Down by the water • TWD

Jinxed.

Then.

The cellblock was noisy with new voices, people shuffling and whispering as they tried to settle into the strange safety of cold concrete walls. Avery lingered in the corner, arms folded tight across her chest, watching strangers file past. Too many faces. Too much change. It didn't feel like home anymore, not really.

She spotted Daryl across the room, hauling an extra blanket toward one of the older women who looked ready to collapse. He didn't say much, just dropped it into her hands with a small nod before stepping away. That was Daryl, all action, no speeches.

When he caught sight of Avery, he gave her that quick half-smile, the one that barely lifted the corner of his mouth but meant more to her than any words. She slipped through the crowd to meet him.

"Ya don't like it, huh?" he asked, his voice low, scratchy from the day's work.

Avery shrugged, eyes flicking back to the new people. "Feels weird. Like the prison's not ours anymore."

Daryl leaned against the wall beside her, crossing his arms. "Ain't 'bout 'ours' and 'theirs' anymore. Just people tryin' to make it."

She sighed, resting her head lightly against his arm. "I know. I just... it was quiet before. Now it's not."

For a moment, he said nothing, just stood solid and steady, letting her lean against him. Then he reached out, ruffling her hair in that awkward way of his that was more tender than he'd ever admit.

"World's never gonna be quiet again," he said. "But ya got me. That ain't changin'."

Avery glanced up at him, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Promise?"

Daryl's eyes softened, and he gave the faintest nod. "Yeah."

Now.

It was getting worse, the sickness. Avery was wrong — it could get worse. Karen and David were killed, burned alive. Somebody killed them just because they were sick. It was starting to become real for Avery, especially since Rick had just come into her cell telling her that all of the kids were going to the office section of the prison. They were quarantining everyone now. It scared the girl more than she'd like to admit. She wasn't looking forward to being stuck in an area with kids she barely knew, barely liked. At least she had Carl. Jackson had been sent to the sick cell block. Avery had been worried about him; she thought it was just allergies. She would still like to think it is.

She scrambled around her cell, packing her bag for quarantine. She packed a few outfits, not knowing how long they would be in there. She stuffed her dog breed book in her backpack, sighing as she knew she hadn't read it in a while. As she grabbed her blanket from her bed, she heard something fall to the floor.

Daryl's bracelet.

She never gave it to him; she must have fallen asleep that night. The girl stood there playing with the strings for a moment, thinking of the familiar bowman. But it wasn't long before she sighed, stuffing it into the back pocket of her jeans. Avery shoved her colored string into the front pocket of her backpack to finish her packing. She was ready, even if she didn't want to be.

Avery lifted her head at the sound of someone clearing their throat on purpose. There he was, the same man she was thinking about just moments earlier.

"All packed?" he asked, scanning the girl to try and see what kind of mood she was in this morning. All Avery did was lift her backpack up, showing him that clearly she was packed. Something about that gesture ticked Daryl off more than he would like. "Don't start with yer' attitude."