Trespassing (Daryl Dixon x OC)

The Run and Go

"You'll have to watch me struggle from several rooms away, but tonight, I need you to stay."

I walked through the woods with no knowledge of how I got there. There were no birds chirping, the leaves didn't crunch beneath my feet. I felt no pain, felt nothing at all. I noticed two walkers up ahead hunched over something on the ground. I began to walk more carefully, not sure what to expect. I didn't have my gun or knife which was rather odd, I typically didn't go anywhere without at least one of them. As I got closer, one of the walkers turned around. It was my dad. I stood there for a moment; shocked, confused, heartbroken. What the hell was he doing out here?

He stumbled upwards to stand, alerting the other walker of my presence. This one also made its way to its feet. Turning around and ambling towards me, this walker was Daryl. Blood covered their mouths, glistening and dripping, standing out against the paleness of their skin. Everything around me seemed to fade, the only thing I could focus on was the two corpses of my father and best friend wanting to feast on me. Dad swooped over to try and grab me, I moved out of his way causing him to fall back down to the ground. Daryl stumbled further towards me, arms out, teeth clicking. I put my hand on his chest, keeping him a safe enough distance from me. I did nothing but stare, my mouth slightly hung open from the shock and confusion. The only two people I had my entire life, gone.

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion and in impeccable silence. His gargling and groaning was muffled, the air surrounding us was beautifully quiet, absorbing every possible sound. Inside, I was panicking, suffocating from the losses in front of me. It took me a moment to realize Daryl's chest left my hand, half his face blown off, his dark red and brown mixed blood now covering my own face. Glenn held me by the shoulders, shaking me somewhat violently, trying to get me to focus on him as he repeated me name...over, and over, and over, and over, and

"Belle." I shot up. I was in the RV covered in a sheer layer of cold sweat, Glenn sitting beside me on the bed. I ran a hand through my hair, a nervous habit I got from my father. "We're here," he said with slight hesitation.

"Where's here?" I questioned, throwing my hair into a messy bun.

"The CDC," he said before pausing. "It was Rick's idea." I nodded. The Center for Disease Control. A cure.

It was a process to get in, and it damn near cost us our lives. I was still in shock-+to say the least--from my dream. If that's really what it was. Maybe a nightmare. The shock caused most of it to pass in a daze. But, there we met Edwin Jenner, a scientist who had been working to find a cure for this virus that plagued the Earth. He let us stay with him, a nice gesture for a nervous man. Something was off about him, though, he knew something he wasn't telling us. Although, that worry was at the back of my mind. I mean, the guy said he had running water.

After many-to-all of us had showered--man, nothing beats an actual, warm shower--we'd all joined together for a well-cooked meal and drinks. I declined the alcohol, having no good past experiences, I wanted nothing to do with it. Carl wanted to try some, and Rick and Lori let him knowing he'd hate it. Hell, even I knew he would. He made a funny face and said he'd never have alcohol again, causing bouts of laughter among the group.

During the night, most of the group grew tired and went off to sleep. Myself, not so much. I found an empty room containing a small couch with a couple chairs on either side, a coffee table sitting in front of them. I sat by one of the edges of the couch, pulling my legs up and letting my bare feet rest on the soft fabric. It had been a while since I felt this comfort and relaxation. It felt like a Saturday morning; the kinds I used to spend with Dad as a kid, watching cartoons and eating breakfast. I wanted that again.