Lilly Watkins has always been the strong one compared to her twin. That doesn't change when the dead start walking. Taking care of her family during the apocalypse, she never relied on anyone else. When she meets Daryl Dixon, a more temperamental pe...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Rick, Daryl, and I are on a run together. Rick is blaring a CD on the radio, windows down, hoping to draw a few of the Walkers away from Alexandria on our way.
He turns onto a street and pulls into the drive of a large red warehouse that says "Sorghum" on the garage door. Daryl and Rick pull up the door, and we all brace for the possibility of Walkers. Inside, to our surprise, is a box truck. Rick pulls up the door.
"Well shit," I mutter, looking at the jackpot we just found ourselves upon.
"Law of averages," Rick says, and Daryl grunts in agreement.
We stop at a gas station. Daryl is fixated on flipping over a vending machine. Rick hooks it up to the hitch of the box truck after neither of them could lift it.
"Rick!" I yell out, spotting a man in a trench coat running up behind him, already pulling my gun out. Daryl reacts just as fast. The man backs up, hands raised.
"Relax, I was just running from the dead."
"How many?" Daryl asks.
"Ten...or so. When it gets to double digits, I start running."
"Where?"
"About half a mile or so. They're headed this way, so you have about eleven or so minutes.
Rick lowers his gun first. "Okay. Thanks for letting us know."
"There's more of them than there is of us. We gotta stick together." He looks pointedly at Daryl, who hasn't lowered his weapon. "Right?"
"Lower it, Daryl," I say lowly. He glances at me before finally doing so.
"Do you have a camp?" he asks, looking at me.
"Nah, don't like that question," I reply. "Do you have a camp?"
He shakes his head. "Nope. Just aside from you guys."
I can tell immediately that he's lying. "Sure. What's your name?"
"Paul Rovia, but people used to call me 'Jesus'." He pulls down his bandana covering his mouth to show a beard resembling Christ's depictions, as well as his long brown hair.
"I'm Rick, this is Daryl and that is Lilly. How many people have you killed?" Rick starts but the man is already taking off.
"Sorry, gotta run. You've got seven minutes."
Daryl looks between the two of us. "What the hell was that?"
"He was clean. His beard was trimmed."
"He didn't have a gun either," Daryl adds.
"He's been tracking us for a while. Maybe we can track him down and bring him back."
"The man calls himself Jesus."
Suddenly, we hear popping in the back of the gas station, and we run towards it. It doesn't quite sound like gunshots, though.
"Rick, it's a distraction!" I yell, realizing it's just firecrackers in a trash can. Rick and I run to the front, realizing he took the keys to the box truck.
I shoot towards the truck, but he's already gone.
We track it, though my faith in finding it is not high. It feels like miles before we stumble upon Jesus changing a flat on the truck.
Rick ushers us through the forest. Daryl sneaks around the truck while the other man is in the back of us. He rushes Jesus, who kicks him directly in the stomach. Rick grabs him, throwing him to the ground. We all point our guns at him.
"Do you even have ammo in those?" he asks us.
Daryl and Rick both shoot a nearby Walker in the head, pointing back down at him.
"You'd really shoot me over a truck?"
"Yeah, and I'd do it again," I tell him. "Give Rick the keys."
We leave him tied up on the edge of the road as we drive off. There's a thump on the roof of the truck.
"That sonofabitch is on the roof!" Daryl mutters, hopping out of the truck.
"Daryl!" Rick and I yell in unison. I hop into the passenger seat, watching the two struggle. Rick keeps his speed, chasing them down. I hop out next to help Daryl. Rick stops, getting out to take care of Walkers. Glad he has that much faith in the two of us.
Jesus jumps into the driver seat. I go to the passenger side, putting him into a headlock, Daryl grabbing his feet. That's when I notice Walkers coming from behind Daryl.
"Duck!" Jesus tells him, pulling out a gun. Daryl listens as shots ring over his head.
"Thanks!" he yells before punching Jesus in the face. The vehicle starts rolling backwards. I grab at the gearshift desperately but the struggle between Daryl and Jesus keeps knocking me back.
"Daryl!"
He rolls out of the truck the same time I do, just before we would've been submerged in the water.
"He's out cold," I tell Rick, kicking at Jesus.
Rick joins us in watching the box trunk sink into the pond.
"I hate the apocalypse," I mutter, wiping my brow.
"This is some bullshit," Daryl mutters. "I'm going to go check out the cars and see if any will run."
"What about the guy?" Rick asks.
"There's a pond and a drownable man. Do the math," I reply, starting to turn away too.
"Did he pull a weapon on you?" he asks me.
"Oh for fucks sake Rick. We cannot bring him back."
"Daryl, a hand?" He looks at my partner, who is already coming to help move Jesus.
We arrive back to Alexandria after sundown. Rick and Daryl bring Jesus to one of the empty homes while I head back to ours, anxious to see my children.
"Cash!" I exclaim, excited to see him still awake at this hour. "Did you miss mommy?"
He coos, burying his face into my chest. "Mama."
"Dada will be home soon." Hopefully. More and more lately, he's been over at Aaron's for guy time to fix up his bike.
About an hour later, Daryl comes home. "We left him water and a note."
"Better person than I'd be."
He smirks. "Ain't I always a better person than you?" he asks cockily.
"I have several instances–"
He pecks me on the lips to shut me up. "Cash asleep?" he asks.
"Yep. Tiff came in a little bit ago from hanging out with Carl."
"They seem a bit close. Do I need to go mess up Carl for being around my daughter?" He grins at me.
"I think Rick would rough you back up."
"Good point."
We sit in silence on the couch. At times like this, I really miss having a television. "I'm going to head to bed."
"Do you need serviced?"
I giggle. "I'm not a car, Dare."
He coughs awkwardly. "Look, you know I'm not good at this."
My hand grasps his. "Come on."
A/N: sorry it took me so long to finish this. Life has been crazy hectic and just hard to get the energy to do so.
