Wings

Nothing Gold

"...Nothing gold can stay."
-Robert Frost
__________________________

Daryl

They were up with the barely waking sun to check traps and run a trotline down the river. They'd check it later. Daryl had gotten his bike back and he wanted to spend a little time making sure it was in good condition.

His friend had borrowed a set of waders from Aaron and was waist deep in the water, anchoring the other end of the line. The wind was turning cold and it wouldn't do her any good to get wet.

Still, the sun continued to rise in the sky. They were free of the saviors. The Alexandrians were gaining skills every day. Spencer had even started trailing behind Rosita, now that she and Red were quits. He didn't worry too much about Rosita, and she seemed happy for the attention. Daryl found himself believing that things could work.

They'd only run 10 lines, but that could feed a lot of people, and if they were careful, they could reuse the line. Daryl liked being out like this. Surviving. Making sure others did too. Proving his worth.

"Can I get a hand? It's slippery."

He pulled Remy up fast, spinning her around and going for a choke hold, but before he could get under her chin, she tucked it and got her hand under his arm. His other arm lifted her off the ground so she couldn't push off.

As she struggled against him to gain leverage, she braced her feet against his shins. Then, he felt her other elbow drive hard into his rib. His grip loosened enough that she got her teeth to his arm. She applied very gentle pressure, and he dropped her.

"Yer gettin' quicker," he told her.

"Maybe you're getting slower," she laughed, "how old are you now, anyway?"

"Older'n I thought I'd be."

"Amen to that."

They started back for the walls with the sun shining at their backs. Yeah, Daryl thought, it's shaping up to be a very good day.

—-

Remy

Daryl had peeled off at the gate to look his bike over. The traps hadn't turned up more than a couple of voles, and they decided to release those. Too small too fool with. They had plenty of food from Hilltop and their own stores.

Daryl had told her about the Hilltop. About the livestock and crops. The textiles and blacksmith. It made her think fondly on their time at the prison. Could they recreate that here? The prison colony was heading somewhere good. Until it wasn't. But today was not a day for dwelling on the past.

She was sitting on Rick's lawn, showing the different colored leaves to Judith, who was now more toddler than baby, when she saw Daryl leave with Denise and Rosita. If he was taking Denise out, Remy felt confident that he would let her come on a run soon.

—-

She found him later, alone in the cemetery, filling in the grave. Denise's. He moved mechanically: shovel, swing, shovel, swing.

She walked forward, making noise so he would know she was there. She put her hand on his back between the shoulder blades. Shovel, swing, and finally he froze when her hand made contact. She heard him inhale sharply. When he released the breath, it was shaky.