IN WHICH - The last thing that Hope Mikaelson expected when she came out of Malivore was to still be alive, the second last thing she expected was to be disowned by most of her living family, and the final last thing she expected was some ancient be...
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THIRD PERSON POV
CHAPTER 25
The group huddled together in the clearing just off the road, their breaths visible in the cold night air. Vehicles were parked haphazardly, their engines still ticking from the frantic escape. Everyone looked around nervously, scanning the darkness, hoping to see familiar faces emerge. Maggie clung to Glenn, her face pale with fear, while Beth tried to comfort Hershel, who stood silently, gripping his shotgun like a lifeline.
Rick stood in the middle of it all, holding Carl tightly against his chest. The boy trembled, not from the cold but from the weight of everything that had happened. Rick's hand gently ran over Carl's hair, his other arm wrapped protectively around him as he scanned the empty road.
"We'll wait here," Rick said firmly, though his voice was edged with tension. "They'll make it. They're tough—they'll make it."
Lori stood nearby, her hand on her stomach, her face a mask of worry. "Rick, what if they don't? Shane, Daryl, Carol... Hope—"
"They will," Rick cut her off, his tone sharp, almost desperate. His eyes darted back to the road, his jaw clenched tightly. His mind was a whirlwind. Hope. Daryl. The two people he trusted the most were still out there, and the thought of losing either of them was like a knife twisting in his chest. He couldn't let himself believe they were gone. He wouldn't.
Maggie's voice broke the silence. "What if the walkers—"
"They'll be fine!" Rick snapped, louder than he intended. Carl flinched in his arms, and Rick immediately softened his tone. "They'll be fine," he repeated, quieter this time, though his own words sounded hollow to his ears.
A distant rumble broke the uneasy silence. Everyone's heads turned toward the road. The sound grew louder, unmistakable now—the throaty growl of Daryl's motorcycle. Relief surged through the group as the headlight cut through the darkness, but it was short-lived as they realized it wasn't Hope on the back of the bike—it was Carol.
Daryl brought the bike to a screeching halt, dust kicking up around him. Carol slid off quickly, her face pale and drawn. Daryl swung his leg off the bike and stalked toward Rick, his expression a storm of frustration and anguish.
Rick stepped forward, leaving Carl with Lori. "Daryl?" he asked, his voice tight.
"I couldn't find her," Daryl growled, his voice rough with emotion. He ran a hand through his hair, pacing like a caged animal. "I looked everywhere. The walkers were thick, but... she wasn't there. Almost everything on the farm is gone too. The supplies, the containers—just gone. It's like she disappeared into thin air."
Rick's stomach dropped. His hand went to his belt, gripping the handle of his revolver as if grounding himself. "What do you mean, gone?"
"I mean gone!" Daryl snapped, his voice cracking. "Her tracks were everywhere at first—around the walkers, the barn—but then it just... vanished. It doesn't make any damn sense." His voice softened as he added, almost to himself, "She was there. She had to be."
