ENDURE.
❝I know how to fight,
and I know how to win. ❞
THE WALKING DEAD.
DARYL DIXON.
BOOK THREE of the LANCASTER SAGA.
[ SEASONS 7 - 9 ]
*****
*I do not own The Walking Dead or any of its characters. I simply write to write. Astrid, any additional...
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[ vii. romeo and juliet ]
november 1st, 2012
➸➸➸
ASTRID DIXON WAS SEARCHING for him.
Though it was entirely impossible, with looting Saviors wreaking havoc through the Alexandria Safe Zone, plundering its once-beautiful homes as if they were already long abandoned. They had taken everything: medicine, clothes, weapons—even their mattresses.
But there was one place still untouched by the savages. The cemetery, on the outskirts of the community. It was here, amidst the freshly turned graves, that Astrid temporarily ceased her search and fell to surrender. She sank to her knees beside Bailey's grave, the only place that still held any meaning.
The tiny grave was isolated, surrounded by empty plots meant for Abraham, Glenn, and Maggie. These empty spaces were more than just a tribute; they were part of a ruse. Maggie was alive, hidden away at the Hilltop to keep her safe. The Saviors needed to believe she was dead, for if Negan discovered the truth, he would hunt her down just as he had Astrid. He would terrorize her. Destroy what little peace she had left.
Astrid could not let that happen. She was willing to bear the pain, the spotlight of a madman, so that her widowed friend would not have to.
Though it had not been a light decision. Well. For those around her, that was.
Rick and Aaron had tried to convince Astrid to stay at the Hilltop Colony, too, but she refused. Alexandria was her home; Hilltop was not, no matter how many assurances Dr. Carson gave her in aiding her through the remainder of her pregnancy. Besides—the thought of living near Gregory, knowing she might finally kill him in a fit of rage, was unbearable. Better to stay in Alexandria, where her anger had a clearer target.
A chill wind cut through the cemetery, stirring her from her thoughts. She stared at the fresh mound of dirt before her, the cold seeping into her bones. But it was nothing compared to the chill that had settled in her heart since Negan's arrival.
"What do I do, Bailey?" Astrid whispered to the earth. "Someone has to end this. We can't let it go. You, Glenn, Abraham—you deserve so much more."
Her words faded into the quiet, the line between reality and fantasy blurring as exhaustion took hold. A part of her almost expected a response, a sign that the world had not completely descended into madness. If Bailey's hand had clawed its way through the earth, declaring she was alive, Astrid might not have been shocked at all.
But Bailey was gone.
With her dying breath, her last concern had been for the child growing inside Astrid, and now, more than ever, Astrid was determined to honor that. Her son would not live in fear, would not know hunger, would not wonder if they would see another day. He would be strong, carrying the fierce blood of the Dixons and the Lancasters. The world would one day fear him, not the other way around.
