❝In the ruins of what once was, you are my 𝘀𝗼𝗹𝗮𝗰𝗲.❞
Daryl Dixon has weathered the apocalypse through grit and isolation, a man who aches for love but doesn't know how to ask for it. Then there's her⸻a quiet woman whose heart overflows with lov...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
CHAPTER 5. BUCKET LIST
Gwenn stirred awake.
She gradually opened her eyes, squinting against the intense light that sent jolts of pain through her throbbing head, leaving her feeling both dizzy and out of sorts. She attempted to move, only to find herself bound to a chair, her hands secured tightly behind her. She tugged against the restraints, but the rope only dug deeper, scraping her skin raw. A soft whimper escaped her as panic began to twist in her chest.
"Gwenn?"
At the sound of her twin brother's voice, her ears perked up. "Glenn?"
She blinked hard, trying to clear her vision, but everything remained fuzzy and indistinct. The cluttered storage room seemed to shift before her eyes. It took her a moment to make out Glenn's figure a few feet away, tied to a chair like hers. Everything was a fucking blurry mess.
Glenn looked at her, his eyes wide with concern as he tried to make sense of their situation. "Hey, you alright? They really clobbered you," he asked, his voice filled with worry.
"Fine," she replied simply. The truth was, she felt like she was floating. A painful lump throbbed at the back of her head, and the overhead light felt bright and uncomfortable, making it hard to keep her eyes open.
"Alright, just hang in there. I know they'll come for us. They have to," Glenn said, trying to sound more confident than he felt.
"You really think so?" Gwenn asked quietly.
Glenn paused, searching for the right words. "Yeah. They came back for Merle. They'll come back for us too. Rick will," he said, though it was tough to tell if he was trying to convince her or himself more.
"I'm really worried, Glenn. What if—" Gwenn started, but Glenn quickly interrupted her.
"—they won't hurt us. They just want the bag of guns; they won't hurt us. I won't let them hurt you, Gwenn."
Gwenn squinted at him, a worried line forming between her brows. "What? I'm worried about Loofah. I hope they didn't just leave him there." The words tumbled out.
An overwhelming wave of anxiety crashed over her as she thought of her dog. What if he was still locked up, alone and scared? Tears shimmered in her eyes as she imagined Loofah waiting in that office, whining softly, thinking his mom had abandoned him to starve and die. The image of his sad, trusting eyes made her heart clench painfully. She missed Loofah so much.
Glenn raised an eyebrow at her. "Really? We're kidnapped, and you're more worried about your dog?"
"Yes! He's just a baby—"
"—he's four, Gwenn! That's not a baby."
"He's five! And that's still a baby!"
"Man, I can't believe this," Glenn sighed, clearly exasperated.
