Trespassing (Daryl Dixon x OC)

Chocolate

"No we're never gonna quit it."

After all the walker fiasco, we've been able to settle back into life in Alexandria. That being said, we were now in need of supplies. Rick, Daryl, and I decided to go out and handle it.

Daryl and I were in a much better place. The past few days have been stressful and both of us handle that shit terribly. I'm honestly quite surprised he allowed me to go with the two of them. I'm sure he's learning how to let me be more independent, not that I ever wasn't.

Talking was minimal between the three of us. Rick seemed to be doing well despite everything. I was glad he could keep his head clear.

We eventually happened upon a truck. While Rick checked for the keys and the gas, Daryl and I opened up the back to see if anything was in it. As the door slid up, my jaw dropped.

"Fuckin' jackpot," I muttered. This thing was loaded. "This enough to hold you over, sheriff?" I jokingly asked as Rick came to stand with me and Daryl. He chuckled at my remark.

"Let's get her home," he said.

Before heading back to Alexandria, we decided to make a quick stop at a gas station, taking a few extra things to bring home. Daryl spotted a tipped-over vending machine, signaling for Rick to help him turn it over. Having no luck, they chained it to the back of the truck to flip it. While examining the contents inside, someone aggressively bumped into Rick.

The three of us drew our guns at the man. He held his hands in the air, both adorning leather gloves. He wore a leather trench coat and blue beanie, a thin piece of cloth acting as a bandanna covering his mouth. He had blond hair that fell to his shoulders.

"Back up," Daryl shouted.

"Keep 'em up," Rick added.

"Whoa," the man said, "easy guys. I was just running from the dead."

"How many?" Daryl asked.

"Ten, maybe more. I'm not risking it. Once it gets to double digits, I start running."

"Where?"

" 'Bout a half a mile back," he informed us. "They're headed this way. You have probably about...eleven minutes."

We stood silent for a minute before Rick gave us the okay that he was most likely telling the truth. I saw honesty in his eyes.

"Thanks for letting us know," Rick muttered.

"Yeah, there's more them than us, right? Gotta stick together." The man lowered his arms before asking, "You got a camp?"

I looked between Daryl and Rick for a moment. I wasn't gonna open my mouth unless I needed to.

"Nah," Daryl answered. "You?"

"No," the mystery man replied. "Sorry for running into you. This is the next world. I hope it's good to you guys."

"I'm Rick," he called as the man started walking away. "This is Daryl and Belle. What's your name?" The man turned and pulled down his bandanna.

"Paul Rovia, but my friends used to call me Jesus. Your pick."

"Said you didn't have a camp. You on your own?" Rick asked.

"Yeah. But, still, best not to try anything."

"Best not to make threats you can't keep, either," Daryl spit. At that, I grabbed his wrist. 

"Chill," I muttered to him.

"Exactly," Jesus agreed before continuing on his way.

Rick tried to get him to join the group but he kept on his own solo path, warning us again about the small herd of walkers headed our way.