Shattered

by PrincessJ

Summary:

It lingered with him as they walked, the sight of her tied to a tree. She was still a her to him, even if she had already turned, she was still a person. He wasn't sure why, usually once someone was dead they were a thing. Daryl had been the one to end it, putting his knife into her forehead. Not before he had seen it though the W carved into her forehead. It was like the others the walkers near the canning factory. Maybe it was the fear she must have felt that made her image stick with him, being chased down and killed that was different you could still try. Dying like that, in utter helplessness, that was something different.

Daryl and Aaron stumble upon on of the wolves victims that day in woods, only this one is still alive.

Notes:

Hello Readers,
I have had this little story on my computer for a while now. I have a rough map of where I want it to be and at least five more chapters already written. I thought the idea of finding one of the wolves victims alive like that would be an interesting thing to explore.

I don't have a beta so if anyone id interested let me know I will love you forever. Your comments and Kudos give me life. Be honest please I love hearing what you guys think.

Chapter 1: Found

It lingered with him as they walked, the sight of her tied to a tree. She was still a her to him, even if she had already turned, she was still a person. He wasn't sure why usually once someone was dead they were a thing. Daryl had been the one to end it, putting his knife into her forehead. Not before he had seen it though the W carved into her forehead. It was like the others the walkers near the canning factory. Maybe it was the fear she must have felt that made her image stick with him, being chased down and killed that was different you could still try. Dying like that, in utter helplessness, that was something different.

They walked on now in silence, looking for the man in the red poncho, or the men who had killed her whatever came first. Daryl wouldn't mind if he found that men that killed her, he would kill them. That was justice now, in the new world an eye for an eye. Aaron struggled with this new world, he could tell. It was savage and dark. It changed because it had too, life behind the walls hadn't changed much, not like this.

The sun was setting low light shining through leaves, the forest had a different sound, different smell. They should be heading back soon, but when Daryl glanced back Aaron was still walking no signs of slowing. They had found the man Morgan, but it wasn't enough for Aaron. He believed that there were good people out here somewhere waiting to come back with them. Daryl wasn't so sure; he has spent a lot of time in this new world.

“Little further,” Daryl muttered. “Then we head back, ain’t seen any sign of people in a while.” His hand reached out moving a branch before it caught him in the face.

Aaron moved closer, “I thought we would see at least someone, one-person, one other person.” Aaron sighed thinking of the man they had found before Morgan; he was a good man he saved them there wasn't a lot of that going on now a days.

“Ain't many left out here, and if they are we may not wanna find them.” He thought about her when he said it, the dead girl tied to the tree with the W carved into her forehead. He heard it just then a thin shrill scream and then stopped. A twig cracked under his foot, turning he pressed his finger to his lips. Aaron was wide eyed, but he stopped moving and listened.

There was a sound again and this time he could hear the direction, off to the left. Choked sobs, mumbled incoherent pleas. He was running then, ducking under branches, jumping over fallen debris on the forest floor. His crossbow was already in his hand, arrow ready. Crashing through the brush he saw them, the man stood in front of her. He was pulling up his pants, and she, she was silent head slumped to the side.

The flying arrow sliced through the air, preaching his head before he even had the chance to turn. Daryl could see the girl now, tied just like the last one red cut down the left of her forehead. The image of the other women flashed in his mind, this is how they leave them. A cold rage boiled inside him, a heavy booted foot kicked the man head in when he closer.

He was already cutting her down when Aaron came up behind him.

“Oh God,” Aaron whispered. He took off the coat he wore and draped in over her limp naked form. “They were just going to...” He trained off turning his head and running his hands over his face as if to calm himself. Daryl only grunted slipping his arms under her head and legs lifting her up.

She was naked, skin marked with dirt and blood. Under it all she may have been a light caramel color, but it was hard to tell. In the dying light the bruising looked like a water color painting, yellows and green, black and purples. Her hair was a matted mess of brown locks, framing a heart-shaped face. She didn't wake when Daryl lifted her, never stirred once. The two men didn't speak only walked in the direction of Alexandria, never once questioning bringing her, there never was a question.

Chapter 2: Darkness

In the darkness they came for her, grasping fingers, hollow eyes. Hungry hands and mouths, seeking her flesh and always finding it. She always fought them, always. Not to fight was to die, and she wasn't ready to die. The scene was always the same, she was always running. She was always in the woods the world seemed to be mad of woods. Voices in the darkness called to her as she ran with promises of safety, but she never stopped.

In the end it never mattered how far she thought she was getting, they would catch her. This must be hell, she thought when she felt the hot breath on her face. This was the compilation of all of her sins, everything she had done to survive this world had created this for her. Fingers dug into her arms faceless shapes holding her still, she twisted, kicked, pitched her body upwards trying to be free. Always fight, she told herself, always.

“Daryl hold her down!” Wait that was different, they never had names before. “I can't get the IV in if she isn't still.” They were never women before; this was a woman's voice. Pandora struggled more, eyes opening seeing nothing but bright blinding lights. Her hell was changing, she thought. The faces of the women she failed to save swam in her vision. They screamed and wailed, mouths filling with blood. She screamed the sound like fire burning inside her, You should have fought harder! She screamed at them trying to free herself from her grasp.

Then a pinprick right in her arm, and everything went still. The faces melted away, their voices dying in the darkness. Ice rushed into her veins, freezing them making it impossible to even lift her fingers. As her vision cleared a face swam there, long dark hair, bright blue eyes. He looked down at her, almost worried? Frightened?
Her mouth opened, but no sound came out.
“Sleep now,” She heard him say. “Just sleep.”

Her mouth opened a closed again, like a fish on land gasping. Pandora wanted to scream at them that she couldn't sleep, not now they were always waiting there in the darkness. It was too late, the man's face faded as the icy water pulling her under, sending her stumbling back into the darkness.

The next time she woke up it was slow her mind waking up piece by piece. Out of old habits, she tensed and released each muscle and old gymnast habit. She opened her eyes now, slowly remembering the bright burning lights. For the first few moments after she opened her eyes she just lay there. Be still, she told herself, be still. In the stillness, she heard her own breathing, slightly erratic little gasps of air. Something else, another breath, this one long deep. Sleeping, someone was sleeping here. Here, where was here she dimly wondered.

Slowly she tried to lift her arms, nothing happened, but something tightened against her wrists. Panic flared for a moment, and she let it come up like a wave crashing over her but like the tide, she waited for it to recede. Her feet were the next thing she tried to move, again nothing just the feeling of being held. Tied, she was tied down. Wiggling her body, she felt the surface under her strong and soft. a bed, she realized with a small content sigh, god how long had it been since she was in a bed.

An image of the apartment building flashed in her mind, the mattresses on the floor in the sleeping room. In a moment she was there again, flipping through the pictures found in the now empty apartments laughing with Lilly. Her heart gave a tight painful squeeze at the memory. Go away, she willed the image, this was not a time for that.
What is this, she thought suddenly when the memory had passed. This is how she will die. Pandora was bound again it must be in a forest, she couldn’t hear it now but this was how they left everyone else why would she be different. Her mind was tricking her she decided, trying to ease the way into death. That was fine, she would rather just float away into memory.

“Hey, ” She jumped head whipping to the side. The calm acceptance of her death shattered.

There he was again, the man with the blue eyes watching her. “We ain't gonna hurt you.” He said hands raised in the air. He didn't move from his chair, but his eyes stayed fixed on her. “I found ya out there, in the woods, I brought ya here.” Again he stopped watching her, but she didn't speak only stared large brown eyes flicking nervously. “You've safe here, we have walls to keep the dead ones out, we tied you down cause you tried to hurt yourself, tried to hurt us.”

She didn't remember that she didn't remember seeing anyone else. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out, only a strangled sob. Tears streamed down her face, it must be a trick, there was no such thing as safe anything the world was over. Chest tightening, she gasped, sucking in air. It never seemed like enough. Panic flared, the old friend. It kept her alive before it would now, she knew it. Still struggling to breathe she pulled at her arms, feeling the material rubbing her skin raw. She tried to keep pulling, but the tightness in her chest continued. The edges of her vision started to blur, choked sobs broke free.

This was worse then the memories she decided in her panic, this trick, this was cruel. Let me die, she wanted to scream. She was finished now, tired her minds tricks ready just to sleep, sleep forever.

Her head turned to him, who would become when the real world came back into view. He never changed though only his eyes panic flickered in them, he jumped up opening the door and sticking his head outside. “Denise!!!” He screamed. The sound rocked her ears, making her close her eyes. Fake, fake, fake she scolded herself. This dream was worse, she preferred the ones where she was running she knew how they ended.

There was a woman in the room now, she touched her hand. “Shhh, shhh” She cooed at her like she was a child crying. “She's having a panic attack,” The women said over her shoulder. The man was there behind them, a small light on behind him outlining his shape. The women was looking at her again. “It's ok. I promise it's ok.”

It was too much, too much noise to much light, too much information. Pandora was slipping away again back into darkness, where she felt safe, where she knew she world she was heading into. The woman touched her arm, her fingers warm on her cold skin. Blinking she turned her head to the side, the women was there the light bounced off the needle in her hand. That was the last thing she remembered before she blacked out again.

Chapter 3: Awake

Notes:

Hello! I am a few days late. I will be trying to update every Sunday. If you guys want longer chapters let me know! I can make them longer I just thought that 1000 to 1300 words would be a nice length. Also still looking for someone to Beta this story if anyone is interested.

For the purpose of this story, the time between Daryl and Aaron coming back and before they go out to deal with the herd is a few weeks.
Thanks for reading comments and Kudos give me life.

Chapter 3
Awake

When Pandora woke the third time, she was ready, and it was different. Taking her time, she opened her eyes, slowly. This is different all of it, if they wanted her dead she would be dead. No one else had ever taken care of her before, she wasn't hurt, she was better even. Pandora tested her fingers, they moved. Her wrist, it moved. She lifted slowly above her head, a deep cut on her forearm had been covered. She started the process of testing her muscles

Slower now she sat up the room shifted and pitched to the side, her eyes closed a few deep breaths later she opened them again. The room was straight again; it was small a door to the right two windows on the adjacent wall. Turning her head to the right she saw another door this one closer to her. It was a room, a nice room. Where, she wondered a house, no how they be so stupid.

Fear bubbled up inside her, pushing past her lips in a little hysterical laugh. She must be dead, or this was some new kind of torment the wolves had thought of for her. Why because she still chooses to fight, she would always fight not fighting meant dying, dying was something she was not ready to do. The feeling of hot bodies pressing against her again, she realized she had closed her eyes opening them the room swam into focus for the third time.

Doors, she told herself she had been looking at the doors. It was so easy to forget what she was doing, so easy to just slip away. Now was not the time, she scolded her wondering thoughts.

A pressing feeling on her bladder made her wonder if one of the doors lead to a washroom. A tug on her arm when she tried to move made her turn. An IV was stuck into her hand the tube leading to a clear bag hanging on a pole to her right. Fuck she thought. The pressure was growing, and her thirst was growing which was not a good combination.

Shutting her eyes, she wrapped shaking fingers around the tube and pulled. It didn't hurt, when she opened her eyes bright red blood leaked from where the needle had come from. The sight of the blood cause the panic to flow up again, she remembered nail marks scratches, visits in the night. Her breathing quickened, blood dripped onto the white sheets she stopped moving.

Pandora’s legs swung over the side of the bed, Go she yelled at her body willing it into motion. The floor pitched rising up to meet her tumbling form. The tears came then, or had they been coming before now she was not sure. Her body lay sideways on the ground pain traveling up her arm, a warm feeling spreading on her skin. Just work! She wanted to scream. Just work! If she couldn't stand she couldn't run, and it always came down to running no matter where she thought she was.

“Shit!” A man's voice cursed slamming the door shut footsteps thudded around the bed. She hadn't even heard anyone come in, but there he was the one with the blue eyes. He stopped there a few feet from her, hands outstretched face a cool controlled calm. “Hey.” He whispered.

Hey, Pandora want to open the box? A voice sneered at her from somewhere in her head, no, no this was not the same man. She was not in that place, she was in another place a different place, with strangers still though everyone was a stranger now.

Pandora sat pushed into the corner of the room, as if is she pressed hard enough the wall would open her up and take her away with it. He looked down at her a ghost of an emotion flashed in his eyes before it was gone.

Getting down into a squat in front of her, he blinked. “Can I see your hand.” He asked keeping his voice low and calm.

Pandora blinked pushing back just a bit more, the panic gripped her. For a moment she couldn't speak, unable to form her quick jumping thoughts into words. The pressure on her bladder was like a lightening bolt through the panic attack getting her brain moving again.

“I have to go to the bathroom.” She whispered. He only nodded moving closer reaching his arms out. This seemed insane, a part of the brain could see that. Asking this man, she knew from nowhere to help her find the bathroom.

“I ain't gonna hurt you.” He said it again, this time, his hands were out palms facing upwards.

She nodded, still crying unable to stop. He leaned holding her arm gently to lift her up. Once standing she swayed, shaking hands gripped his vest to steady herself. He walked slowly, thankfully helping her into the washroom. Once inside they both stopped, clearly no one had thought this through.

Looking up she stood straighter, the room no longer moved, her legs no longer gave in with her weight. They wanted to she could tell, the tiny tremble told her she wouldn't be standing for long.

The man moved her over to the toilet cleared his throat then turned his back to her and left. She stood gripping the toilet before going about her business. When Pandora she finished she just sat there, her shoulders slumped. The room was beautiful looking, the tall glass shower seemed to call her name. Whispered to her with its promise of clean water, warm even. It had to be warm they had lights, lights meant power. Could she manage a shower, even a short one and she wouldn't feel the walking dead anymore.

There was a sharp knock on the door. “You alright?” He called. Daryl, she remembered hearing the name before. Somewhere in the darkness bits of pieces of conversation floated back to her, he was always there. When she didn't answer right away he opened the door stepping inside waiting for hand on the handle.

What did she look like to him, she wondered. What made that look creep onto his face when he saw her. He probably saw someone broken, frightened. She was frightened she knew, somewhere behind everything else she felt that fear, tasted in just in the back of her mouth.

Turning she balled her hands into fists and stood, but the movement was too fast and she was still too unstable on her feet. Cold marble smashed into her knees, her hands barely had time to catch herself before her face make contact with the floor. A sob pushed out of her, darkness threatened.

He was right there, though. Moving faster than she thought he could. Without a word he was lifting her, arm under her legs the other holding her at the waist. Pandora tensed at first a protest bubbling to her lips, panic flaring. The images came again, phantom fingers on her skin. She screamed shoving at him, it was no use her hands hardly brushed him.

He kept moving ignoring her hands trying to bat him away, “Please, please, please.” She managed. Begging, they loved it when she begged it only made them want her more. He stiffened under her moving with more rapid steps, eager to put her down maybe.

Gently he set her down on the bed again, looking down at her as he did so his hands moved the blankets covering her lower half again. Her fingers clung to the smooth fabric of the sheets, hands balling into fists. With his hands off her she could think again, she could remember that there was time before when he didn’t hurt her. But everyone hurts, a voice said slowly was that her own voice, she was unsure now. His chair was there right beside the bed she was in, he lowered himself into it. Reaching over he placed a plate in front of her, it had an assortment of dried fruits and nuts.

Shaking she reached for it, her body wared against her, her stomach demanded it her brain panicked. She chose her stomach, this time, taking small bites chewing until it was paste in her mouth then swallowing. Killing her with poised food would be a waste of food she thought as she finished the plate.

She wasn’t sure how long she ate, but whatever amount of time passed the man, Daryl she reminded herself, watched her in silence. She glanced at him a few times, to make sure he was real. Sometimes she couldn’t tell the difference all her nightmares seemed real too. He was older, or maybe not maybe the world had hardened him. His hair hung long on his head reaching past his ears, his eyes were clear and bright, though. Lights in the fog.

Her hands tightened on the blanket twisting the material in her fingers, the plate was gone now. Had he moved it? Or had she? Why couldn’t she remember that? She looked at him again, her mouth opened again no sound. She waited to take a few slow breaths “Pandora.” She finally said her name feeling thick on her tongue.

He only nodded. “Daryl”

“I remembered you. The first time I woke up, I remember seeing you.” She was talking now the words coming faster, the memories rushing in with them. “You found me.” She was whispering again, the memory of being left out there to die came flashing back. She felt the ropes holding her still, the roughness of the tree against her as she panicked. She could smell the forest, his rotten breath, his hands on her. She had to turn away, her chest felt tight again her breath quickened.

“Ah did.” Leaning forward he put a hand on top of her. “Take a deep breath.” He encouraged. She screamed pulling her hand away from his like he burned her. She tried to breathe, but it was never enough.

Panic and anxiety rose up, she pictured the woods felt the ropes against her skin, felt hot breath on her cheeks. Nails dug into the skin on her arms, the ropes she could feel them if she could only get them off it would be fine. She wasn’t in the room anymore she wasn’t seeing them, she was seeing them yellow teeth and W carved into their skin.

“Fuck” She almost didn't hear it, everything sounded so far away. There was some noise in the room, but she pressed her hands to her ears now. There were other sounds now behind her eyelids the world seemed too loud. She started humming her voice blocking out the other noises. Go away she told herself, just like the other times. Just go away.

Before she knew it Daryl was holding her hands down away from her face, her eyes were open and she was looking at him. Someone was screaming a harsh horrible sound, his mouth opened speaking to her but she couldn’t hear it not over the screaming. She was screaming she realized now, why was she even screaming.

Something moved behind her, but she never turned. The familiar feeling of ice in her veins calmed her down, making everything slow and heavy. She hadn't realized she was struggling against Daryl until the tension was melting away from her. Darkness shrugged up with its fingers clawing ripping at her.

Her hands reached out for him, vision floating in blackness.

Chapter 4: Learning

Notes:

Happy Sunday! Here is chapter number 4. I'm liking the length I think, short and sweet really. I'm trying to be as true to the characters as I can. But if you have suggestions on how I can improve please let me know. This is my first time writing fiction like this, any tip is a good tip!

Learning
Denise sighed tossing the needle in the medical waste bin, a sag to her shoulders. The girl had been there for a week already, most of the time she was sleeping and when she was awake it lasted only fleeting moments before she panicked.

“I can’t keep drugging her,” Denise muttered moving a strand of hair out of her eyes. She placed the used needle in a bin to be cleaned later, waste was not something they did here. “It’s not good for her body.”

The biker sighed settling back down in the lounge chair beside her bed. “Her names Pandora, she told me before she.” He waved his hand and let the sentence die out, not actually commenting on the issue she had just raised. She huffed a sigh and turned towards him.

Denise watched him a moment, then slid into the extra chair at his side. “I can try and help her you know; this is what I did before. I helped people like her.” She remarked rubbing her eyes, trying to push a headache she felt blooming behind her eyes away. Now was not the time for her not to be feeling her best.

“Like her?” His tone was slightly offended, that startled her. The amount of care and concern he had for this women shocked her slightly. She wasn’t someone he had known before, she wasn’t a member of his group he referred to as family, so what was it. Maybe it was how he had found her, he had a hard moral code she had coming to learn. It was unchanging, his concept of right and wrong, fair and unfair.

“People who suffered trauma,” Denise replied slowly taking care with her. “Whatever she went through it was horrible she looks like she has PTSD post traumatic stress syndrome.” There were many signed, Pandora didn’t need to awake for Denise to be able to diagnose her. She had all the classic signs, nightmares, panic attacks, flashbacks it was textbook even.

“You’d do that?” He questioned harshly, bright eyes fixed on her.

“This isn’t something you have to do alone; I want to help her.” The conviction was strong in her voice; she watches Daryl nod slowly. “Go get some sleep I’ll stay with her until she wakes up.”

He only nodded standing he cast one last glance over his shoulder before shutting the door behind him.

Minutes seems to stretch by like hours, just as she eyes started the close her eyes she heard the women stirring.

Like Daryl had described the times before she woke up slowly, controlling every aspect of the process. Denise waited until she watched those deep brown eyes open. There was a moment of confusion on her face when she looked at Denise.

“Hello,” Denise explained softly. “My name is Denise; I am the doctor here I have been helping Daryl take care of you.” Pandora opened her mouth slowly her eyes scanning the room. “Before you say anything,” Denise hurried on her hands up to show that she needed her to stop. “I am going to tell you some things that I need you to remember and then repeat. Nod if you understand me.”

Pandora nodded slowly, Denise watched her closely noting the way her hands clenched and unclenched around the sheets.
“Your name is Pandora. Can you repeat that for me?”

The woman stared at her, eyes scanning Denise’s’ face unsure. Denise felt her heartbeat pick up, but she kept her face calm. Don’t let her see how frightened you are she told herself, you are the doctor now.

Finally, after she took a deep breath she whispered, “My name is Pandora.”

Denise smiled, “This one may be harder if you start to feel like your panicking show me five fingers and we will stop.”

Pandora drew her knees up to her chest but nodded her head, knuckles gripping the sheets tightly. All these things Denise watched closely, her trauma was so fresh flashbacks would be common and frequent.

“You were found by Daryl and Aaron.” Denise watched her closely waiting.

“I was found by Daryl and Aaron.” Her voice was thick, choking almost.

“Pandora, take a deep breath.” The women answered with a few deep breaths eyes wide focused.

“You are safe in Alexandria.”

“I am safe in Alexandria.” She repeated faster this time.

Denise grinned leaning back in her chair, “Good Pandora, that’s so good. Next time you get overwhelmed or feel yourself slipping away you say these out loud ok? Can you tell me all three again?”

She watched Pandora gulp and suck in more air, her hands shook where she held them. “My name is Pandora, I was found by Daryl and Aaron, I am safe in Alexandria.” Something happened then Denise watched slowly, there was something different in her face, something in her eyes. “My name is Pandora, I was found by Daryl and Aaron, I am safe in Alexandria.”

Denise only grinned pushing more strands of hairs from eyes, “That’s really good Pandora, really good.” She couldn’t get but think about how happy Daryl would be to see her up with a coping method to keep her calm. “I’m going to teach you a few more things, but that’s for after ok? Right now is there anything you need?”

“A shower.” She answers came fast Pandora was already getting ready to move throwing the blanket off her legs.

Denise tried not to gap at the state she was in, she hadn’t seen her before this moment. The night Daryl came back with her it was too much chaos, Reg dead Pete dead, she wasn’t ready to be the doctor then. It has been too much then really; it was still too much now if she was honest. But this girl needed her, needed the new doctor Denise and the Psychiatrist Denise. Daryl had taken care of her, cleaning and caring for all of her wounds. She was thankful for that the sight of blood still made her a little bit sick. This was not a normal wound she knew that; this was extreme torture.

“Sure,” Denise remarked after a moment. She was going to move to help her up, but Pandora was already standing to move toward the bathroom door. “I’ll um wait right here, there are new clothes in there. Shout or call me if you need anything.” The awkward feeling was back with Pandora on her feet. She watched the women move into the bathroom shutting the door behind her.

Denise slumped down in the chair again feeling the weight of her exhaustion pulling on her eyelids. Her head turned to the window outside the night was dark and still. Her eyes flickered to the watch on her wrist 11 pm no wonder she was so tired. Behind her, the sound of running water lulled her into a dreamless sleep.

Chapter 5: Staying Awake

Notes:

Happy Sunday everyone. Hope you all enjoyed the weekend! I know I did, actually I did a lot of adulting but it was alright.
Anyway here is the next chapter. We start to see more of Daryl speaking now, so if I am a little OOC I do apologise. Still looking for someone to edit for me if anyone is interested!

The soft click of the door closing behind her triggered the sag in her shoulders. The words that the Doctor has just taught her knocked around in her brain. My name is Pandora, I was found by Daryl and Aaron, I am safe in Alexandria. These are things that no matter what she knew to be true. Right now at least these things were true now, behind these walls she was safe. Every time she repeated the words her hold on the world in front of her seemed a little more solid.

Now with her mantra in her head, she could focus enough to only turn on one set of bathroom lights and head to the shower. Her fingers brushed on the helm of the t-shirt she as wearing, wait for a t-shirt, she wasn’t sure when she had put that one. Under the t-shirt was a pair of gym shorts loose fitting hanging around the poor excuse for her legs. Part of her mind panicked, why couldn’t she remember putting on clothes, that was important.

Everything, since she had woken up the first time, was only bits and pieces, most of it was dreams. She still had a hard time separating what really happened, and what she dreamed about. Fingers and hands in the dark, but also a man with bright blue eyes and a doctor with a kind voice. Which one was true here now, hands clenched tight the panic flared up choking her.

“My name is Pandora, I was found by Daryl and Aaron, I am safe in Alexandria.” It took a few times of her repeating the words before she was able to step into the shower still trembling. With a shaking hand she turned on the water making sure it was slightly above warm, the heat kept her grounded and in control.

The shower was large, three glass paneled walls against a white tile. Her eyes scanned the sides, there hanging on the shower head was a wire shelf filled with anything she might need. It seemed so out of place, the little bottle of shampoo and conditioner, the small bar of soap. Outside the dead were walking but here, here she could smell like warm vanilla sugar.

A content sigh escaped her lips as the little rivulets of water ran down her skin. Pandora avoided the glass, not sure she was ready to look at her own reflection. Instead, she looked down watching the dirty water run down the drain, first a deep red, blood and dirt she guessed, then it changed to a dirty grey colour until it finally ran clean. Again she sighed pressing her back against the glass letting herself sink down onto the warm tile floor.

The water streamed down her face, the moisture weighing her thick wavy hair. Her neck bowed under the weight of it and the steady stream of the water. Knees tucked up her chest she curled into herself. Feeling the water pool in the curves and hollows of her body, it slipped over running down in larger streams. Pandora watched the water running over the multi colours bruising that covered her skin, her stomach turned but she tore her eyes away pressing her face into her knees.

Her mind wondered then a dangerous activity these days, but still, there were a few things she did not quite understand. The water running over her skin helped her understand that this was the real moment, her sitting in the shower anything else was her mind playing tricks. I need to know she told herself. There were too many things she didn’t understand, too many times she was not present in the moment.
She remembers when they tied her to the tree, remember when he raped her again.

The memory threatened to surface, but she moved on cataloguing the event in her mind. Then she was here waking up, screaming pulling out her IV. Pandora remembers hearing Daryl now something she didn’t remember before, but no somewhere in her mind, she heard his horse voice whispering to her in the darkness.
She was there again feeling the hands trying to her down, she remembered the feeling of her hand contacting with flesh, a grunt of pain and the smell of blood.

Then she was pulling at her own skin trying to remove what held her, but she only found skin and kept tearing it bloody. Fingered flicked up to her neck, ah there is was. Lines of skin scratched raw to the point of bleeding, lightly scabbed over now as that was. When did she do that? A few hours ago? Days ago maybe, yes it had to be days.

“Ya tried to hurt ya self, tried to hurt us.” She remembered hearing that too, shame flared up inside her triggering a flow of tears. She had hit him, the man who saved her took care of her, what kind of a person was she. The sobs came them loud and hard, tearing their way through her body. She tried to quiet them, hands pressed tightly over her mouth, they never stopped. Suddenly she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see, couldn’t gain control. It was too much, her body felt raw every nerve on fire.

The shower water was rain suddenly like it had been the day they were all taken. The rain making them slow forcing them to stop, causing them to be found. She tried to stop it, cover her head with her arms, she wanted to tell everyone that they could not stop running. But when she looked up, the room was empty. Her own haunted hollow face staring back at her through the glass, features twisted in agony.

Somewhere to left, she heard footsteps, the door of the shower opened. Then she was standing a large warm towel wrapped around her, her fingers tightened around to try and stop she shaking. Everything seems too loud too bright. Somewhere she heard laughing, a voice telling her this world was for the dead now.

“Pandora, Pandora? Pandora?” She blinked eyes swinging up to meet Daryl’s. His voice centered her, and she nodded. How long had he been calling her she wondered tilting her head to the side? A while she thought, the tears had stopped now, her face still slightly damp. “Ya need your wounds cleaned, can Ah do it or do you want the Doc to do it?”

Wounds? she thought. Yes, she did feel them, stinging in her arm, a tight feeling in her side when she took a breath, other small aches, and pains. She blinked a few more times, trying to form the words. Her brain stopped and started like a car with a bad battery. She raised her hand and touched his leather vest, the towel wasn’t around her anymore. In fact, she was dressed she could feel the materials brushing against her skin lightly.

“Ya want me?” Daryl asked again snapping her back to the present moment. Pandora nodded slowly her hand still tightened around his vest. “Come ‘ere then.” Daryl gently grasped her elbow turning and leading her back to the room. “You gotta sit.” He murmured leading her to the bed and easing her down gently.

Pandora tried to keep track of how many wounds he cleaned and took care of, but her mind wondered again unable to keep a count. She heard him speaking to her as he worked, but her mind couldn’t seem to get the words to make sense. It didn’t matter the warmth of his hands and the numbing of the pain while he worked lulled her into sleep.

Sleep again, her mind raged against it. She had just gotten up, sleep again. Her body fought her harder, though, the pulls of sleep making her limbs heavy. Being crazy sure makes you tired she mused to herself feeling her blinks getting longer and longer. Her head fell forward, damp locks falling over to cover her face.

“Hey, hey.” She heard him say. His fingers touched her hair moving it from her eyes, then she felt him slowly leaning her backwards until she way laying back in the bed. “Alright, sleep then, your all right.” That was the last thing she heard again before she was slipping away into sleep, she didn’t even notice her fingers gripping tightly to his vest.

When she was finally sleeping Daryl moved to sit down, her sleep her fingers loosened on his vest, until it fell at her side. He watched her for a moment sighing, running his hand over his face. She was better, he could tell. She had let him clean her wounds touch her more then she had let anyone touch her since she got here. It was good to see every day a little bit better, but still, he wondered.

He wondered if the torment she had been through would ever really go away. Something like that he shuttered, something like that you didn’t just come back from, not right away. He glanced out the window, the sky was beginning to lighten. He had sent Denise away an hour ago, telling her he had gotten enough sleep already. Slumping down lower in the chair his arms crossed over his chest, might as well try and get some more sleep while he could, maybe he had lied to the Doc a bit he could always use more sleep.

Chapter 6: Chapter Six Safe

Notes:

Happy Sunday! Happy Thanksgiving to all of my Canadian readers, I am posting this while my turkey is in the oven and other good things are cooking!
Here is a new chapter, and guess what?!?! I have a beta reader now! My wonderful cousin has agreed to edit all the new chapters, I'll give out her username as soon as she gets one. I warned her that I'm already ten chapters deep.
So here you go don't forget to comment they legit make me write faster!

Pandora’s life seemed to have boiled down to waking up and falling back asleep. Nothing in between those two moments ever seemed to stick in her memory. This morning, however, was different. For the first time since she had been saved, she awoke to sunlight streaking on the floor of her room.

Blinking rapidly, she turned her head to the window as she tried to listen to the sound floating in. She waited, letting the sounds wash over her before she fully processed them. She noticed immediately that she heard people, living people. Doors somewhere were being opened then closed. Even the sound of a car was audible. Laughter floated towards her making her stiffen. Pandora rolled her body over to face the window, allowing the rays of sunlight to shine on her face. Her body remained like that for some time as she toyed with the idea of getting up and actually looking out the window.

Finally, she decided against it. She wasn’t ready to see what was out there as she had a hard enough time simply dealing with what was in this room. She instead decided that another shower would be nice. Before she arrived at Alexandria, she had long since given up the hope of having a shower, now here she was having a second one. It seemed greedy now that she thought about it. For a moment she stood with her fingers wrapped around the door knob. Was it selfish to want another moment in the warm water? No, she decided she put up with enough so she deserved this.

Since she was alone in her room, this time, Pandora decided to explore the bathroom. For the first time, she turned to look at herself in the mirror. The shock of her own reflection caused her to take a step backwards. The woman that greeted her was not the same one she remembered seeing the last time she looked into a mirror. Her hands crept up to her neck and the scratch marks that were there. Her skin was dull. Old, fading bruises covered the caramel coloured skin of her face. Her neck was covered in long, angry, red scratches. The moment when she caused them flashed in her mind but she immediately pushed the thought away. Her fingers shaking, she ran them through the tangled waves of her hair; the ends were frayed and broken. She then rested her hands around her neck again in an attempt to hide the angry marks she had created. Her eyes were wide and expressed the panic she felt, even now that she was inside a house with people who had been taking care of her.

“My name is Pandora, I was found by Daryl and Aaron, and I am safe in Alexandria.” She said to herself as she turned away from the mirror, moisture collecting in her eyes. Blinking, she redirected her attention to exploring the drawers and their contents.

One drawer was stuffed with clothes that appeared to be new, all around her size. Any type of clothing that she might need was in the drawer: jeans, tights, shirts, etc. Another drawer held personal care items like soap, toothpaste, deodorant, and razors. As she picked up a razor, she smiled and a laugh bubbled up from inside her. Who ever thought that she would be able to shave her legs while the world was ending outside? With the razor in her hands, Pandora turned to the shower.

When she was finished, she felt brand new again, almost. Her legs were shaved, her hair was washed and she even put some product through it. The long sleeve shirt she had picked out was soft and comfortable, nothing too tight as she didn’t want it to rub her skin too much. The black tights clung to her skin and she had thick grey socks pulled up to her ankles to keep her toes warm.

Turning, she stepped out of the bathroom and the door clicked close softly beside her. The room was still empty, a sigh escaped her. How long had she been alone? Every time she had opened her eyes she remembered someone being there.

The sounds from outside the window were still coming into the room and before she knew it, her feet were carrying her towards it. She tugged the blinds open, exposing the entire window. The sight below her caused her to stumble back, fingers fluttering to her neck. There was a neighbourhood, with sidewalks, homes, and gates around front lawns. Wide-eyed, she leaned forward and started watching people walk back and forth on the sidewalk in front of whatever building she was in.

The door opened behind her and she whirled around, meeting the eyes of Daryl.

“What is this place?” She breathed hands still at her neck.

He watched her as he stepped inside the room, setting a plate he was holding on the table beside her bed.
“This is Alexandria,” Daryl muttered sitting down in the chair beside the bed. He moved slowly she noted that every movement seemed calculated.

Pandora was already turning back to the window then, one hand pressing the glass. Someone was walking down the street with a baby stroller while a couple was casually walking down the street with automatic weapons on their backs.

“I must be dreaming then,” She muttered. Her fingers tapped the glass lightly and the red haired man with the gun on his back stopped and turned to look at the source of the sound. His face looked hard and his mouth was surrounded by a red moustache and beard. A squeak escaped her as she stumbled back, hand flying out to close the curtains.

Daryl came up behind her quickly catching her arms as she stumbled. “I’m sorry,” She whispered making no move to move out of his grip as it was warm and grounding. “Someone saw me.” It seemed so silly when she was saying it out loud. Of course, someone saw her; she was standing at a window for god’s sake.

“S’alright, come and eat something.” He said as he stepped back, gesturing to the plate he had brought. She watched him lower himself in a chair before she moved to sit on the bed taking the plate. There was complete silence as she ate. Her gaze flickered up to look at Daryl from time to time, he was always watching her. It wasn’t until she was finished, however, that she spoke to him.

“I don’t think I said thank you.” She whispered, drawing her knees up to her chest and resting her chin on top. She watched him, waiting for a response but he just held her gaze. “So Thank you.” She tried again.

“Couldn’t just leave ya there.” He finally mumbled, suddenly interested in his hands. She titled her head and continued peering at him. He certainly could have just left her there, especially after all the trouble she had caused. She wondered if now he was thinking he would have rather left her. “Wouldn’t have been right.” He added as if he was reading her mind. She suspected that her thoughts must have shown on her face as emotional control was not something she was very skilled at these days.

“Ah saw someone else ,before we found ya there.” Daryl was hunched over now, peering at her through the strands of his long hair.

Pandora knew exactly who he meant: Madison. She had blonde hair, blue eyes, and a thin build. She always cried, never fought back, just always cried. The day she stopped crying was the day they left her there, just like they were going to leave her there.

Pandora’s chest tightened, hands flying to her neck, fingers fluttering over the hollows of her collar bones. Stop. She thought as a scream almost burst out of her. The thin hold she had on the world in front of her started slipping away. A voice in her mind started to whisper the words the doctor had taught her. Shutting her eyes, she repeated them out loud in a breathy whisper.

“My name is Pandora, I was found by Daryl and Aaron, and I am safe in Alexandria. My name is Pandora, I was found by Daryl and Aaron, and I am safe in Alexandria.”

“Ya that’s it,” Daryl was on her bed now, the mattress dipping under his weight.

The mattress reminded her that she was on a bed, in a room, in a house, and behind walls. “My name is Pandora, I was found by Daryl and Aaron and I am safe in Alexandria.” The words were coming out easier now and her breathing was slowing down.

“Look at me,” Daryl’s said in a stern voice. Pandora blinked, then slowly opened her eyes. She saw nothing but calm in the blue eyes that watched her.

“Breathe like me, ready?” Daryl asked. She nodded, watching him and reaching her shaking hands out for him. His grip was warm and solid, again acting as an anchor, keeping her here in the present. Watching Daryl, she matched his breathing. Slow and steady, in and out. Over and over again until she had stopped shaking and the world was back in focus.

How long they sat like that, Daryl sitting in front of her with their hands locked together, she wasn’t sure. He held her just as tightly as she held him, and it was comforting to feel that pressure.

Daryl released one of his hands, turning away from her. The panic spiked again but only for a moment as she realized that he was reaching for a bottle of water to give to her.

“Drink.” He said, letting go of both her hands to open the cap of the bottle. Taking it, she brought it to her lips and took a long deep drink, the water put out the fire in the throat. The bottle was empty when she put it down on the nightstand, leaning over Daryl to do so.

He opened his mouth to speak, the events before her panic attack were looming in the air around them, but she stopped him. Holding her hand up to silence him, she instead laid her hand over his again.

“I want to go outside.” Her voice was tight but it held a conviction she didn’t know she felt before now. The room was too small, the air too stale. It was too much for her as too many things had happened here and she needed to get out.

Daryl watched her with worry flickering in his eyes. After a moment of hesitation, he stood up, offering her his hand to help her up. She took it, allowing him to pull her up from the bed. When he moved to drop his hand she held it tighter. She looked at him, silently pleading for him to not let go.

He nodded as if he understood and started leading her to the door, but when the sounds from the rest of the house floated towards her, the courage she had felt vanished. Oh god, she thought I can’t do this. Looking at Daryl, she noticed that he loomed about a foot over her, forcing him to look down at her.

“Pandora?” Daryl’s voice was low, trying to not to draw attention to them. She blinked; she was standing at the end of the hall now, a set of wooden steps in front of her. Her fingers tightened around his, where did that chunk of time just go? Glancing backwards, she noticed the door to her room was still open at the end of the hallway. They had walked so far without her even noticing, she swore that a moment ago she was standing at her open door.

“Ya ready?” He asked and she shook her head trying to clear it. Letting go of his hand she made her way down the steps, one at a time. That was how she did everything now, just one step at a time.

When she reached the bottom of the steps the smell of disinfectants hit her full in the face. She was standing in a small makeshift hospital it seemed. Behind her rows of beds separated by curtains hanging from the ceiling, it all seemed so odd out of place in a home. Not a home, she reminded herself this was their hospital.

The sound of a conversation floated towards her. The doctor's voices she knew, another woman and a man. Pandora tensed spinning on her heel to go back to the steps, instead, she slammed into Daryl's chest his hands holding the tops of her arms.

“Ya alright?” He asked quietly. She only nodded trying to get herself together. She couldn’t spend the rest of her life in that one room. “Come on then, this way.” She followed his hand gesturing towards the front door across the room from them. A sharp intake a breath and she was moving towards the door again.

She passed the doctor with another woman sitting up on her table. Denise beamed when she saw her, the conversation dying as she walked past.

“Hi,” The women on the bed smiled at her. Pandora only stared unable to make her brain form words.

“Hello,” The man beside her said nodding at her silence. “Select mutism is common with PTSD we understand completely.”

She winced casting a glance at Daryl behind her he placed a warm hand on her back and lead her outside. This man must be some kind of mind reader she thought as he opened the door. Cold air rushed into her face causing her to gasp. Without realising it she was moving to the end of the porch leaning over the railing the cool metal on the skin of her forearms.

“This feels so normal.” She whispered her eyes darting around the street. People passed her some glancing up others too busy to notice her. The air was crisp, not cold but enough to make you more aware, wake you up. It did that for her brought the world into a sharp focus.

Beside her, Daryl was leaning on the poll a cigarette between his lips. She took the moment of clarity to really look at him now. He was about a foot taller then she was small muscles frame, dirty light brown hair hanging in front of his eyes. The clear blue eyes that seemed imprinted in her memories, a light in her panic.

Her gaze shifted again to the people the homes around her. The silence was comforting; He didn’t seem like a big talker which suited her just fine. This seemed like somewhere she would live or would have lived before the world went to shit.

Turning she spotted a chair behind her big and plush. With a content sigh, she lowered herself into it. She wasn’t sure how long she sat there, watching listening but after some time a heavy blanket was placed over her shoulders a mug of hot tea pressed into her hands.

Turning Daryl was beside her holding a mug as well women beside him, older with short grey hair. Pandora flinched fingers gripping the mug tightly. She hadn't even noticed her come up to them, without meeting her eyes she turned her head to the side hiding the unease.

“This is the first time she's been out of that damned room.” Daryl was saying around the cigarette in this mouth. A new one she noted she had been here for a while the sun was already setting in the sky.

“It takes time you know the-”

“Ah know that,” he cut her off “Was just sayin' is all”

The rest of the women's sentence hung unfinished in the air, the trauma. A shiver passed through her, she shut her eyes sipping the warm tea. When she put the mug down on the small table she found the women watching her openly. There was something in her gaze that was unnerving like she was trying to see inside her.

Her eyes cool, critical, at odds with the floral printed sweater and slacks she was wearing. A wolf in sheep’s clothing something in her head whispered. Without a word Pandora stood and let herself back inside ignoring the questions from Daryl outside and Denise inside as she made her way back to her room.

Notes:

So clearly I have had to tweak the events to make room for Pandora in the narrative. I will be trying to stick as close to canon as possible though.

Chapter 7: The Scale

Notes:

Not sure if any of you are confused by the timeline of this story. But this is all happening in the time between the end of season 5 and the beginning of season 6. So for the sake of this story, the time between Reg dying and the walker parade is going to be a few weeks. All the other events in the show are as follows, like the conversation between Rick and Daryl about not looking for more people. Also, in the last chapter the scene where Denise is looking at Tara and the Wolves coming are obviously not the same day. I am re-watching season 6 to prep for writing Pandora into the story which is why this is a little messed up.

Denise found Pandora later sitting on top of the bed with the blanket still wrapped around her shoulders. She shut the door with her foot as she was carrying a steaming bowl on top of a tray. The smell set Pandora’s stomach rumbling, she couldn’t remember how long she had been sitting like this, not that that was anything new.

“I thought you might be hungry.” Denise said as she placed the tray on the table beside Pandora’s bed. Before she had even stepped away, Pandora was setting the tray in her lap, the blanket slipping off her shoulders now forgotten as hot food awaited her. A few moments passed in silence while Denise leaned back in the chair folding her arms over her chest. “I want to work on something else but don’t worry you don’t have to stop eating.” She added quickly with her hands raised in defense.

Pandora gave her a sideways glance, the spoon in her mouth still showing she had no intention of stopping.

“Daryl told me what happened when you two were talking.” Denise said. Pandora’s hands started to shake, causing the hot liquid to spill onto her skin. Pain flared for a moment, but surprisingly the usual noise in her head was quiet.

“I want to teach you something else to help us understand how you feel. It’s a scale alright? All you have to do is hold up fingers, easy right?” asked Denise.

Again, Pandora was caught slightly off guard with the spoon halfway to her open mouth, but she nodded before continuing.
Denise smiled, nodding a few times, “Okay. One finger means you’re feeling good. Two fingers mean you’re feeling some worry, but it is still okay to go on. Three fingers mean you are willing to try, but we should be careful of what we do or say. Four fingers mean we need to change the topic or activity. Five fingers mean we need to stop right now because you think you might have a panic attack.”

Pandora mulled over the words in her head, deciding that what Denise was asking seemed easy enough. Placing the empty bowl back on the tray, she watched Denise with her hands folded in her lap.

“What number are you on?” asked Denise. Pandora held up two fingers. The anxiety was there, it always was, but did not feel too bad right now.
Denise moved on to the next question, “What happened outside?”

The image of the woman’s intense, prying gaze flashed through her mind. “Someone else was outside, talking to Daryl.” Her voice was low, monotone even in an attempt to keep control. “I don’t know her name, but she kept staring at me.”

“Something about her made you uncomfortable?” Denise asked, pushing her glasses up on her face. Pandora nodded, it was the swirl of emotions in the other woman’s eyes. She couldn’t place it at the time, but it seemed like judgment. Judgment for not being strong enough, for being too broken or for needing care when there were other things that needed to be done. Maybe she had been right before to think about wasting a way in bed, what kind of world was this for someone like her, someone so broken.

She didn’t notice that Denise was leaning toward her now with her hand on top of Pandora’s, calling her name. The air seemed tight, like there wasn’t enough of it in the room to fill her lungs. Dimly hearing a question about a number she raised five fingers.

“You’re alright, you’re in Alexandria in your room, and behind the walls you are safe.” Denise’s voice was strong and clear. She pressed something into Pandora’s hands, it was hard and cold, plastic maybe. “Tell me about what you’re holding.” Denise prompted.

Pandora’s brain started and stopped, her fingers running over the object in her hands. “Four legs,” She whispered shakily. “Small tail but it has big ears.”

“Keep your eyes shut, and keep telling me.” Denise prompted again.

It seemed so stupid, but by the time she had figured out it was a plastic elephant, her breathing had come down to a normal rate. When she was asked what number she was on, she held up two fingers and it felt true.

When she opened her eyes, Denise was smiling again, a big goofy looking grin. “You’re doing great.” She told her as she stood up. “Daryl is in the room to the left tonight ok? If you need anything he is right there.”

Then Denise was gone, shutting the door behind her and Pandora was alone again, the plastic elephant still in her hands. Her mind was whirling and she was too antsy to sleep now. The window called to her with the promise of its cool night air against the fire her nerves were causing inside her.

When she tried to open it, it wouldn’t budge. Figures, she thought, can’t have windows that open. The feeling of being trapped crept into her mind, panicking she tried to open the window again but of course nothing happened. Stumbling, she moved to the door, throwing it open. Just the air in the hallway calmed her down, but she needed more.

She flew down the steps, throwing the front door open and gasping, only to be met with the piercing gaze of Daryl who was smoking another cigarette. A hysterical laugh bubbled up inside her escaping through half-open lips, but Daryl only raised an eyebrow at her.

“May I?” She asked, pointing to the pack in the pocket of his vest, ignoring the question in his gaze. Sighing, he handed it over along with a box of matches. Grinning at him, she struck the match and lit the cigarette, immediately inhaling the smoke it created. Turning to look out at the street she realized how dark it was. It must have been late, not that she had any concept of time without clocks.

“Can’t sleep?” He finally asked after a long silence.

“No, and I wanted some air but the window wouldn’t open.” The tang of panic was still there, even under the taste of smoke. She didn’t need to explain that to him, part of her was sure he had guessed anyway. Suddenly the need to speak was overwhelming, words bubbled inside her screaming to be let out.

“I had a place and group before,” she left unsaid what had happened to both. “Our place was nothing like this, it was a campsite all fenced in with a gate. We did what we could, built up the fences, and had people watching. We even had a garden, you know? Just a little bit of stuff.”

She paused. Taking a long, deep drag to let the smoke fill her lungs and remind her of where she was. The words, her new mantra played on a loop in her brain, blocking out anything else. Flicking the ash off the end of the cigarette, she looked back at him standing with his arms over his chest.

“We ain't got no fences, they built a wall though.” His voice was hard, not in a cruel way, just to say that what he knew was fact. Fences stop the dead but not the living. Walls, they could keep the living out. They had climbed right over the fences, come in at night and—the thought slipped away when she felt his hand on her shoulder, the contact grounding her again.
“S’alright?” He questioned eyes boring into her. Giving her shoulder a tight squeeze, he asked, “What number are you on?"

The world was focused again, everything becoming sharp and colored. She rolled her eyes slightly at him, but raised two fingers.
“Doc knows her stuff huh?” He asked.

She nodded, flicking the cigarette onto the ground. She was about to stomp it out when she realized she wasn’t wearing any shoes.
“Oh ya,” Daryl and opened the front door, producing a nice pair of steel-toe boots. “Got you these, some others brought them back from a run.”

“Thank you.” She said as she slipped them on, there was a little bit of wiggle room in the front but other than that they were perfect.

“Listen it’s late, but Doc says that if ya see the wall it might help with the yah know, saying calmly.” He said “staying calm” like it was a place she could visit, like she could go to this place called calm and stay there.

Nevertheless, she nodded, hands balling into fists. Somewhere in her brain, a voice screamed that she was moving too fast. But the idea of seeing the wall was too good to pass up on. Without a verbal answer, she stepped off the porch and waited for him to join her.

They walked in silence as she feared speaking would break the calm that seemed to have surrounded them. The feeling that she needed to share more of her story had passed, Daryl seemed to understand this as well as he didn’t ask any questions.

She bumped right into Daryl’s back, she was so wrapped up in her own train of thought that she hadn’t noticed they reached the wall already.

“Oh,” the sound was more like an exhale of air than an actual word. What stood firm and tall in front of her was like nothing she had seen before. Huge, metal sheets were placed more than eleven feet high, steel poles framing them. She stepped around Daryl and ran her hands over the ridges of the metal. How had they managed to do this with the threat of the dead looming over them she wondered?

“How is this possible?” she breathed, glancing back at him over her shoulder.

He shrugged, “Got it up in the beginning, there’s a quarry down the ways, drew all the walkers in. They ain’t had much trouble.”

It took her a few moments but the end of his sentence finally clicked somewhere in her brain. “Wait. There is a quarry full of the dead?”

He nodded, looking unsure. Pandora held up one finger to show that she was fine. At that, he snorted.

Both of her hands were pressed against the wall now, running over the cool metal. Leaning forward, her head touched it and it made her feel better. Denise was right, the knowledge that this was here made her feel safe again, safer than she had in a long time.

With her head still on the metal, the weariness seemed to be leaching into her bones now. It pulled her down like she was swimming in the ocean during low tide. “Can we go back now?” She asked.

He nodded, holding his hand out for her to take. She did not even hesitate before she took it. Her feet felt heavy, like someone had replaced her blood with cement. She wasn’t sure she would have made it back if Daryl wasn’t pulling her gently by the hand, catching up to walk beside him she leaned her head on his shoulder.

“Thank you,” She whispered sleepily.

Notes:

Thank yo so much for reading! I know this chapter is a little slow it gets better I promise! Also a huge thank you to my Beta reader the lovely Arrlow. Expect updates every Sunday at least for the next month I'm trying to write as much as a can white I have the inspiration.

Chapter 8: Trying

Notes:

Hello! Happy Sunday readers! So tonight is the big night! I'm nervous and excited, I have been watching the marathon of AMC yesterday and today, it's getting me pumped. Anyway here is the new chapter! We are all caught up with the show now so let's get right to it!

It was all she could do to not stop running, stop even for a moment and they’d find you. Somewhere, a voice whispered that they would always find her. The darkness surrounded her, whispering the promises of the pain to come the moment she stopped moving. A scream tore its way from her throat but still she clawed at the hands holding her down. It was too late, the sharp taste of blood in her mouth and the feeling of fingers pulling at the helm of her clothing told her that they had her.

She tried to tell herself it didn’t matter, always fight because not fighting meant death and she was not ready to die. Somewhere from beyond the darkness, a voice called to her with whispers of safe places, walls of people taking care of her, but they couldn’t cut through the panic. The darkness floated around her, forming into hands, grabbing and pulling, and still she screamed.

“Pandora!” someone was screaming her name she felt warm hands on her face and then suddenly, there was blue. Blue eyes, the smell of stale cigarettes and fresh motor oil and she knew she was awake, looking into the concerned face of Daryl.

Part of her mind knew that she was safe with him, safe here, but another part of her mind was still somewhere else stumbling in the darkness.

Light flickers on then and the furniture and walls of her room became illuminated with the burning glow of the bulb from the ceiling. Voices surround her asking questions, barking orders. She heard the sound of glass clinking, and the deafening sound of someone screaming. Where was the screaming coming from? She pressed her hands firmly on her ears to try and stop the sound, making her realize that the screaming was coming from her, a deep sound crawling its way up through her open mouth.

“Look at me!” He said to her. She blinked, trying to focus, look at Daryl she told herself, shut your mouth and look at Daryl. The screaming stopped, only to be replaced with broken sobs. She tried to cover her mouth to stop them, but found his fingers locked tight around her wrists now. He was speaking to her again the words were lost, but the rumble in his chest provided peace from the sounds in her head.

She leaned in pressing her trembling head to his chest, felt him stiffen momentarily and then arms were locked around her, rubbing slow calm circles on her back.
“S'right” he kept telling her softly as he held her.

When she was finally calm, the only thing she felt in the wake of her panic was shame. This is the third night in a row she had woken up screaming, woken up and needed him to hold her down and bring her back from nightmares. Denise kept telling her that talk therapy would help but more and more she was beginning to think that she was beyond that. She felt if she didn’t find a way to live with what happened it would eat her up.

Before she realized it, she was waking up again as she had fallen asleep when Daryl was holding her. Sunlight was streaming from the window and Daryl’s deep breathing was coming from the newly added single bed across the room. Shame flared up again, almost causing the tears that were now pooling in her eyes to run down her cheeks. She shifted one arm to cover her face, she heard him shift as well and peeking from under her arm she realized he was watching her.
She watched him lean back to stretch and run a hand over his eyes to clear away the sleep. Something crossed his face and he opened his mouth slightly as if to speak. She was already slipping out of the bed, opening the bathroom door and letting it close with a click behind her. For a long while she didn’t move, she just stood there pressing herself against the door to listen to the sound of him get up and leave. Only when she was sure that he had gone back to his own room did she turn on the water and step in.

A sigh escaped her lips as the warm water ran over her body. It had been a long week of answering direct questions about the Wolves, an interview with Deanna, therapy, and meeting Rick and answering his questions. It had all sent her spiralling back down, blowing her coping skills out of the water.

When she was washed and dressed she headed right for the kitchen. The hospital kitchen was usually pretty empty as Denise was still living in her own apartment thus not really stocking food here. Daryl had become her makeshift nurse, making sure she was always fed and watered.
With a sigh, she followed the smell of smoke. Outside, she found Daryl on the porch smoking another cigarette, two protein bars and a bottle of water sitting on the table beside him. The moment she closed the door behind her, she was already opening her mouth to apologize but he was handing her a protein bar instead.

“Doc says no therapy today.” The relief in her face made him smile slightly. “Ahm take you out. We are going to the quarry today to go over the plan. Everyone will be there, it’s safe.”

Chewing slowly, she watched him as she mulled over his words. The idea of leaving the safety behind these walls was both thrilling and terrifying. She knew that with him was the safest she felt in a long time, if he was going outside the walls so was she.

“Ok,” Nodding, she finished the rest of the bar slightly dissatisfied as the slight rumble in her stomach was still there. Then, Daryl was nudging another one into her hand. They had developed a non-verbal form of communication. She was not sure when or how it even worked, but they always seemed to be one step ahead of each other. Or he was one step ahead of her at least, always knowing what she wanted or needed before she said anything.

“I gotta go talk to Rick, we leave in an hour.” Daryl had been getting better with leaving her alone now, letting her wander inside the walls herself. She had taken to staying with Abraham while he was on watch.

He was good for both conversation but also provided company for when she just wanted silence. Watching Daryl go, she turned and headed to the tower she knew Abraham would be keeping guard in. Climbing the ladder, she found him sitting on the ground, leaning against the wall.
“Hey, rough night?” He asked. His house was located pretty close to the hospital so recently he had been coming to check in on her. He even spent the night sometimes to give Daryl a break. Pandora guessed he had either heard her, or someone had called him to come over.

She only nodded, crossing her arms and leaning over the edge of the wall. The air was warm, summer still maybe but it was hard to tell. She had stopped keeping track of the days a long time ago and was too frightened to ask if anyone else still knew. The idea of knowing how much time she had lived in this new world was not something she was interested in right now.

“Are you going to the quarry today?” She tried to keep her tone light, causal even. Not that it mattered as Abraham always seemed to have a nose for her bullshit.

“Ya, who’s asking?” His tone was hard, face set in harsh lines under the bushy red beard.

“Daryl is taking me with him.” She whispered, turning her back to him. The tone of his voice was grating her nerves, making her think that maybe he was right and she shouldn’t be going out. Hands tightened into fists over the railing to stop the shaking.

“The hell he is.” Abraham spat, getting to his feet. Leaning over the railing he held his hand over his eyes to shield them from the sun to search the street below them. “Hey Holly!”

Everything seemed too loud and bright again; she turned, not wanting to deal with this right now and made her way back to the ladder.

“Don’t you move!” He snapped, pointing a finger right at her but still keeping his eyes on Holly. “Can you start a bit early? Got something to take care of”

She heard the other women respond with an affirmative from her spot on the ground. A slight tremble had taken up residence in her bones. Blinking, she found Abraham in front of her.
“Let’s go.” He snapped, starting down the ladder knowing that she would follow. When they reached the ground, Holly climbed up after them, nodding hello to them both. When Holly was out of sight, he tried to reach for her arm, but seeing her flinch he stepped back shaking his head and headed walking towards Rick’s place.

Pandora followed a few steps behind him, her frame shook harder with every step. Abraham meant well that was clear, but he also had a habit of setting off her many triggers without really noticing. It wasn’t until this moment that she realized she actually did want to see what was outside the walls. Now that Abraham was going to argue with Daryl she was worried he would change his mind.

When he reached Rick’s house, he didn’t knock she noted but only turned the handle and stepped in. She stepped in behind him, hands flying out to grip his shirt when she realized the room was full of people.
A sharp intake of breath made Daryl glance around Abraham to look at her. He wore his trademark scowl; she wanted to shrink back into herself. There were hands on her suddenly, looking to her right she found Rosita. Who was already pulling her into the corner of the room, away from the prying eyes.

Rick turned at the interruption, when his gaze locked on her, something she couldn’t place flickered in his eyes. Colour rose up into her cheeks; she knew he wasn’t her biggest fan. To him, she was just as bad as the people who were living here, people who shouldn’t be alive now.

“Um everyone be ready to meet back here in an hour.” He finally said after the stretching silence. When the room was clear, he crossed his arms over his chest and cast a glance at her before moving to Abraham.

“You are not taking her out there.” Abraham thundered. “I don’t give a goat’s nut how safe you think it is.”

Rick sighed, Daryl kept his eyes on Pandora while speaking.

“Ahm take her, I can keep her safe. We ain’t doing nothing just looking.”

She must have started shaking again because Rosita held her tighter leaning to ask her what number she was on in a soft whisper. Slowly she raised four shaking fingers. Not speaking, the other woman took her by the shoulders and led her out to the back of the house. Once outside, Pandora lowered herself onto the wooden steps of the deck, Rosita sat beside her.

“Just breathe like me ok?” Rosita said as she squatted in front of Pandora so she could see the rise and fall of her chest. Bits of the voices from inside the house flowed towards her, but she was too far to make out the words.

Rosita chatting beside her as she waited, her voice was calming even if Pandora didn’t catch all of the words she said. After some time, a heavy hand touched her shoulder. She looked up, meeting Daryl’s eyes, he held out a hand to help her up.

“How was she?” She heard him ask Rosita.

“A little shaken up at first, but she calmed down. Just been sitting here listening to me the talk the whole time.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem”

Pandora hadn’t noticed they had left until she was already stepping in to the front door of his house, the one he shared with Rick and the others. Leaning into her field of vision he touched her arms lightly, causing her to focus more.

“Ya can say no, you don’t have to come.”

She was shaking her head no. “I’d like to see out there.” She whispered.

Nodding, he left the room and came back with a black backpack. Moving behind her, he slipped it over her shoulders. She didn’t have to ask what was in it, she was guessing food, water and medical supplies as you could never really be ready for leaving the walls.

“Come on.” He said finally, grabbing his own gear and heading for the door. Watching his back for a moment, she followed him and shut the door behind her when she stepped outside.

He was in the driveway already, clipping his bag to the bike. They had been practicing her riding on the back of his bike but he had only taken her around the outside of the wall, never further than that.

Without a word, she started walking to the front gate as the group was already making their way towards there. Within a moment Daryl was beside her walking his bike.

Rick was talking to the group again, seeing who would ride with whom. When everyone was in cars and ready, Daryl slipped onto the bike. Pandora came up behind him and slid into the seat, arms tightening around his waist.

Before she knew it, they were speeding down the street, weaving around the cars until they were in the front. She didn’t even have time to think about how she was outside the walls right now. The only thing she could do was hold on; her arms were tightening around the hard muscle of his torso. She pressed her head to his back, one ear flat against him. Despite the wind whipping around her arms, she felt a smile tugging on her lips.

The bike always made her feel grounded. The movement and the sound were so clear that they cut through any panic or flashbacks she may have. The movement also lulled her into a calm state; she watched the world flash by around her.

They moved through the route they would be taking, stopping and getting out at every important point. She paid little attention to the path or the instructions. The amount of time Rick said Daryl’s name made her uneasy. He was going to be on that bike alone leading all of those walkers.

It wasn’t until they reached the quarry that she slipped back into the real world. Daryl’s presence was solid beside her, but it didn’t stop the shaking as she heard the noise. All of them together like that created a dull roar in her ears, deafening almost. Rick was standing on the truck bed now, addressing everyone. Abraham stood beside them casting looks down at her then sweeping the area around them.

Even with their firm presence beside her, she found her eyes wandering. Down the quarry was the source of the sound as hundreds of walkers were moving around down there. The sound of them drowned out Rick’s voice, making her unable to follow along. All of those bodies moving around down there, the sound grew as more came, and more of them made more noise.

Her feet carried her forward, closer to the edge. She wasn’t sure what she was looking at but one rock fell away, then two, then three, then too many for her to count. It wasn’t until she felt Daryl stiffen beside her, felt everyone looking in the same direction that she was did she notice that something was wrong. Helplessly, she watched the side of the quarry crumble, watched the truck fall over the edge and the surge of the dead moving.

Panic coated her throat making it hard to breathe. Daryl’s hand was holding her then. Rick was screaming that we were doing this now, and everyone jumped into action. Rick was shouting orders, Abraham shouting back.

He was looking at Daryl then, putting a hand out to touch his shoulder. “Lemme take her in the car.”

Panic was racing through her now, she tugged Daryl’s hand desperately, they needed to move, everyone else was moving, why were they still here?

“Naw I got her, go!” Daryl responded. Abraham was gone then, there wasn’t time to argue now. Before she knew it there was the sound of their old car peeling away, Abraham and Sasha were gone.

Daryl had let go of her hand then to hold her chin, turning it face to him. “Stay right here, right beside me until I say so you understand?”

She nodded, hands tightening into fists at her sides. She stepped behind him, shielded from the view of the walkers where he pointed his crossbow.

“Now!” She heard Rick yell, her eyes were drawn to the sky as flares lit up around them. The herd of walkers turned toward the lights and noise, pushing their way toward her and Daryl. What the hell were they doing? Her mind was screaming. She wanted to run now, but her feet stayed glued to the ground.

Horror rose up inside her as she watched one of the trucks in front of them move to allow the dead to come even closer.

Over his shoulder, Daryl shouted for her to get on the bike. At first she didn’t move, fear stopping her muscles in place. It wasn’t until she heard the bolt come loose from the crossbow did she go running for his bike. Panic clawed at her throat, setting her insides on fire and the edges of her vision darkened. Her truths didn’t work to calm her since one of them was no longer true. She was not safe in Alexandria anymore.

Daryl was in front of her then, “Hold on!” He shouted over the roar of the dead, screams and sounds of trucks. Under her, she felt him revving the engine and it helped to remind her where she was. They were gone then, her arms wrapped tight around him with a herd of walkers on the move behind them.

Chapter 9: Moving

Notes:

Sunday again! Hope everyone is enjoying their weekend! I'm sick so I have been sitting and writing for most of the day. Hope you guys enjoy this chapter, this was going to get very interesting for our poor Pandora.
Anyway thanks for reading, and a huge thank you to my wonderful beta reader!

Moving

It didn’t take long for the panic to become a dull roar in her brain. The moving was slow, with enough space between them and the dead that she could calm down just a little bit. Just enough so that the black spots no longer crowded her vision, so that her arms were not a vice grip around Daryl.

“Pandora!” He shouted over the din of the bike and the dead. “We are gonna lead them down the hill, then Sacha and Abraham will be right there ok?”

She nodded; she felt his heart beating quickly as she pressed her head tighter against him. He was frightened she thought, it wasn’t just her this time. This whole situation was beyond terrifying and he felt it too, his heartbeat couldn’t lie. She was sure though if she could see his face it would be blank, a schooled expression to hide his fear. That was the difference she thought, she couldn’t push her emotions down like he could. She was floating helplessly on top of the sea of her emotions whereas he commanded his.

“S’alright?” Daryl asked her.

“I’m fine.” She responded, though she obviously wasn’t.

Her head rested against the back of his shoulders as she wasn’t calm enough to lean back, not yet.

“We’re at red balloon at the bottom of the hill.” She was close enough to hear Sasha’s voice through the walkie clipped to Daryl’s jacket.

“Alright here comes the parade.” He answered, his voice a calm mask giving no sign of the rapid beat of his heart.

Raising her head up, she tried to look over his shoulder but he was taller than she was so she could only lean out and look around him. She could see the old beat up car parked down by the red balloons. They had made it, which was good. Loosening her grip on Daryl, she turned her head back slightly to glance behind her.

The sight of them made her breath catch, she had never seen so many before and they were all following behind them. One with enough speed could pull her right from the bike; it would be over fast then.

“Hey! Ah-“

“I’m ok,” She cut him off turning back towards him lifting her head off his shoulder a little bit. She leaned back creating some distance between their bodies, in an effort to prove her words. How could he believe she was ok if she was clinging to him like he was her lifeline?

“Don’t do that!” His voice was sharp, the first hint she heard of the panic she felt in his heartbeat. “Ya keep holding on tight.”

“Ok.” Her voice was smaller now right under his ear, her arms tightened around him again, her chest pressing against his firm back. They rode in silence then, not much to talk about. When Sasha and Abraham’s car turned out in front of them, she could see Abraham turning to try and look at them.

Pandora didn’t look in front or behind her again, when she felt Daryl slow her eyes squeezed shut tightly.

“Imma slow down to make the turn, you’re alright ok?” she only nodded, the shaking starting up again. Once she felt the bike turn fully, he was moving fast again to put more distance between them and the dead.

When they got back, she was never going to leave from behind the walls again she decided. What were the odds that this would be the day it gave in? They had been planning for at least two weeks now, and the one day she comes out it all goes to hell. The universe was cruel she decided, it cared nothing for her mental well-being.

The ride was quiet, if it wasn’t for the walkers behind them it would be like any other ride they had taken together. It wasn’t though seeing as a parade of the dead followed them down the road. After a while, she leaned back again putting only inches between their bodies.

“I’m ok Daryl.” She leaned close and half whispered it knowing he would hear it despite the noise.
He gave a quick look back at her his features becoming soft for a moment, but she could see her fear reflected in his eyes. So much so she needed to turn away, unable to bear seeing that.

“Ah’m sorry,” He said slowly. “Ah shouldn’t have brought you, it’s never safe.”

Giving him a tight squeeze she pressed her head to his shoulder again, “I’m ok Daryl this isn’t your fault.” I’m ok had become her new mantra, she figured if she said it enough it might become true. It was slightly shocking how composed she appeared, something about life and death forced her to focus.

Silence stretched between them then, the only sounds came from under the bike and the dead behind them. It wasn’t until the sound of a horn came blaring from the distance did she raise her head up. She was about to ask what was happening, but Daryl was already on the walkie so she waited.

“Rick?”

“I’m here”

“What’s going on back there?”

“Half of them broke off they’re going towards Alexandria.”

There was rush to his voice, running he must be running. Her hands tightened around Daryl’s frame, a slight tremble in her arms. She could taste fear now in the back of her throat. They had lost some of them, half were heading back home. Would they have anything to return to if they survived this?

“Towards you?” Abraham’s voice was sharp.

“We ran ahead, there is a horn or something coming from the east it’s not stopping.”

There was a pause; she could feel Daryl stiffen under her. “I’m gonna gas it up and come back”

“No, you keep going”

“They gonna need our help”

“Gotta keep the herd moving”

“Not if shits going down we don’t.”

“The risk that herd turns around the bad back there gets worse.” Rick was right, she knew that, but Daryl didn’t seem to understand that.

He is pausing, another glance back at her muttering a curse under his breath.

“Daryl?”

“Ya I heard yah.” She picked up on the sharpness in his tone when he spoke.

Pandora waited a moment, letting him calm back down before she spoke.

“This is how we keep them safe; this is how we save our home.” She told him, there was hardness in her voice that she had never heard before. She didn’t feel it as inside she was terrified that they were riding towards her doom. All she needed to do was convince him, convince him she was ok and they could keep going. She knew the concern was for the family he had back home, but also for her the unknown variable no one had factored into this plan.

He didn’t believe her though because the next moment they were riding beside Sasha and Abraham.

“Hey” She winced, watching them roll down the window. “We gone five miles out yet?”

Abraham eyed them through the open window of the passenger side. “Give or take some yardage you got a reason for asking?”

“Next intersection I’m gonna turn around and go back.” Daryl’s voice was loud, carrying over the din of the noise around them. Pandora tightened her arms around him to get his attention.

“What are you doing?!” She hissed at him panicked again. He ignored her struggling so she tried to follow along with the conversation.

“Plan is to go 15 more.”

“Ya I’m gonna change that five is gonna have to work.”

“The magic number is twenty, that’s the mission, that’s making sure they are off munching on racoons the rest of their un-dead lives instead of us.” She felt Abraham’s eyes on her then so she turned her head away to avoid his gaze. If he saw her like this she was almost sure he would get out of the car and drag her inside with him.

“You wanna go we can’t stop you, but without you, they could stop us.” Sasha, always the voice of reason, but she was on the verge of pleading now.

“Naw I got faith in yah.” Then he was turning, speeding forward quickly causing her to slip backwards.

The panic that she had felt before washed away, replaced with white hot anger. He hadn’t even taken her into account. She was here now and did not want to leave. She was part of this and wanted, needed, to see it through. When they were far enough away from the herd she let her arms slip from around his waist.

He snapped his head back to look at her. “Stop the bike Daryl.” Her words had a bite to them that he must have heard because he stopped, his expression guarded.

She was off the bike before he even had the kickstand down. “You didn’t even ask me!” She hissed pacing. “You don’t think I know what the rest of your group thinks of me! Useless, damaged, what is this going to make them think?” She was seething now, anger burning like fire in her veins, breathing ragged.

“They will think it was me that made you turn back, you just left them! Sasha and Abraham needed you.” Didn’t he see what he was doing here? They would never believe him if he said he chose to come back. The blame would fall on her, she would be the one who put their lives in danger.

She didn’t notice the tears until he was standing in front of her, thumbs wiping away the wet tracks on her cheeks.

“Ah have to you have to know that, and Ah can’t leave you with them, do you understand?” She held up her hand to silence him, stepping away.

“Take me back Daryl, I’ll ride with Abraham.”

“Ah can’t do that. They need us back home.”

Despite the rage in her voice a moment ago she felt it all drain from her then. She found herself sitting back on the bike, eyes titled upwards. Daryl stood unmoving, arms crossed over his chest. She couldn’t decipher the emotions she watched playing over his face. Turning away, she wiped her eyes.

“Let’s go Daryl, home, I don’t care.” Turning to the side, eyes still turned upwards. She watched him half turn away when the walkie went off.

“Daryl?” Her heart thudded in her chest as she waited, Rick’s voice was over the line again.

“I’m here.”

“Won’t be long now they are almost here, get them going your way again.”

“Hear that Daryl they will be coming our way.” Sasha’s voice? She struggled to hear it, he was moving further away from her.

“Gun fire coming from back home we gotta sit with it and hope they can handle it. I think they can. We keep going forward for them we can’t turn back because we are afraid”

“We ain’t afraid.” Abraham’s voice now.

“This is for them going back now before it’s done that would be for us. The herd has to be almost here.”

She let Rick’s words wash over her, he is right; going back now is for them. They have to stay and do this for everyone else they left behind. Part of her brain whirled in panic, but somehow the panic was smaller now. Maybe she was too tired, maybe somewhere her brain knew that now was not the time. She was so lost in her own thoughts that she almost didn’t notice them pulling back alongside Abraham. With her head resting on his shoulder again she smiled softly.

“Ahm sorry” He said turning slightly over his shoulder.

“I know Daryl.”

Chapter 10: I see fire

Notes:

So today when coming to post this chapter I realized I never posted last weekend. I had the draft up but did not post, not sure how that happened really. So here is another chapter yay! happy happy! Please let me know what you think so far! As always thank you to my amazing beta reader Arrlow!

They spent the rest of the way in silence, occasionally he looked back to ask if she’ was doing ok. The answer is always yes; maybe if they were somewhere else the answer would be different. Right now, being ok was the only option.

Around them the landscape began to change, the homes they passed before were fewer and fewer. On either side, they were blanketed by thick trees. There were hardly any signs that anyone had been here in a long time, no cars left, no bodies, nothing. She wondered if there had ever even been people here, it didn’t seem like it. There were also no walkers she noted, besides the ones they were leading behind them, she didn’t see anything else.

“Alright.” Sasha’s voice came from the walkie.

“That’s 20?” He asked, relief washed through her.

“It will be, 642 is a mile ahead gotta put some distance between us and them before the turn-off.”

“Alright try to keep up.”

Pandora, who had been sitting up with her hands holding his jacket leaned forward again before she was told. When her frame was pressed against him tightly she felt the bike jerk forward.
Whatever Sasha says next is lost to her, the wind whipping in her ears making her voice too muffled to understand.

The landscape changed again after the turn; looking to the side she sees them entering a small town. Old abandon cars lined the streets around them; here she would see the evidence of people. She had been so distracted by trying to look around she didn’t hear everything fall apart. It wasn’t the whizzing sound that made her jump, or even the blooming warmth she felt now on her right arm. It was the sound of shattering glass from the car that was so clear even with the moaning of the dead behind them.

Before she knew it, they are speeding up again, weaving side to side to avoid the bullets. She wanted to scream, but instead hunched down making herself smaller. Daryl was screaming at her over the noise to stay low. The next turn he took was too sharp though and her body doesn’t move in time, they were both sliding to the floor then, the bike having slipped out from under them.
Pandora’s arm rubs painfully on the side of the road; the pain makes her mind sharper something clicking into place in her head. Daryl hisses her name; she’s turning then and he is in front of her getting the bike back up. She is sliding into her seat with record speed and again they are speeding off.

The bullets don’t stop though; she can feel the displaced air to the right of her, too close for comfort. Hanging on tightly, she bites her lip so hard that her mouth is filled with the coppery taste of her own blood. She can’t see anything as her eyes are shut tightly; she doesn’t know where they are headed, just that they are going.

When Daryl turns she can hear the dead come lurching towards them, she opened her eyes then, too frightened to keep them shut. It’s only when she feels their fingers brush the side of her clothes does she scream. A voice in her head screams at her, head down, arms in tight, don’t let go.

One car crashes behind them, she turns to look, steeling herself. “We still have one behind us!” Her voice is high and tight with panic. She was losing it, her mind tried to count the time between her breaths in order to stave off the panic.

“Hold on!” He’s shouting it now too as he moves the bike from side to side avoiding the flying bullets and hands of the dead. He gives the bike more gas, peeling off down the road in front of them. Once over a hill, he turns to the side with his fingers on his lips, slowly he pulls off into the woods.

Nodding, she keeps her body as still as she can. As quietly as she can she peers to the side, watching the car slowly drive past them.

“Ya alright?” He questions, throwing another look her way. Not trusting the sound of her own voice she only nods hoping he can see it. Once he thinks enough time has passed he starts the bike again, crossing the road and driving into the woods. The path they take is surrounded by burnt blackened trees and the ground is nothing but ash.

When he finally brings the bike to a stop, she feels her muscles give way, and before she knows it she finds herself looking up at the sky. Daryl’s face comes into her field of vision, concern mixed with weariness.

“Ya hurt?” His hands are pulling her to sit up gently. She follows his lead, pulling her body into a sitting position. “Pandora?” He prompts.

He is asking her a question she doesn’t know the answer to; every nerve in her body is on fire. Shutting her eyes, she tries to think passed it and find the places she is hurt, but she can’t, everything is too loud.

“I don’t know.” Her voice is calmer than she feels, maybe she should be worried. Fingers clench and unclench; she feels a stinging in her right arm. “Here, maybe?” She holds her right arm towards him. Gently he peels off her jacket revealing a wound from a bullet that just missed her.

“Shit! Fuck.” He was trying to pull the bag off her back now to get the supplies.

“Daryl stop!” She whispered hoarsely, pushing his hands away. “I won’t die, we don’t have time for this, come on.”

Sitting there for another moment he sighed, running his hands over his face. Beside him, a burnt up walker gave a dull groan. Slowly, he stood then still breathing heavily. She followed him, pulling herself into a standing position. Her legs shook slightly, but she forced herself to move toward Daryl and the bike. Picking up the bike, the two of them started walking beside it.

Pandora glanced around as they moved; the bodies of burnt walkers littered the ground around them. Most of the trees had been burnt black, there was no grass just ground under them that was coated in ash.

“What the hell happened here?” She wondered out loud. Daryl only shrugged.

They walked a while longer until her muscles screamed in protest; she slowed then, her grip on the bike slackening. Her mind wandered drifting in and out; it was almost as if she was watching herself from outside her body. She tried to keep focused by thinking about the pain in her arm, instead of all the noise in her head. Before Daryl noticed, her knees were giving way and she was on the ground with the bike on top of her.

She felt him pull it off and pull her to the side. Above her, the sky was still bright, light filtering in through the burnt branches. I’m lying on the floor she thought, that couldn’t be good. His hands were on her face then forcing her to look at him. “Pandora you stay with me!” His voice was harsh but she could feel the desperation lingering just under his tone.

Large, vacant eyes looked up at him holding his gaze for a few moments until she finally spoke, “I just need a minute.” What had Denise called this, disassociation? Was that a bad thing? She couldn’t remember now. Right now it seemed like a good thing, it seemed like disassociation was keeping her from losing her shit.

He nodded; he leaned over her slightly as he stood up. He tried to call for Sasha and Abraham over the walkie. Pandora felt something warm on her face reaching up she wiped it away only to find her hand comes away with blood.

“Daryl, you’re bleeding.” She noted calmly, turning her head to look at him as another drop of blood hit her cheek.

He looked down at his hand, blood dropped from the inside of his sleeve. Somehow that sent her spinning back down to earth, like someone had picked her up and placed her back in her body. She was standing in front of him before she even realized she had moved, her fingers pulled off the bloody glove and tossed it aside.

“Take off the jacket and let me see.” He did as she asked him, wincing when he slipped it off. Deep cuts littered the outside of his arm, from the fall she guessed. “Here, let me clean it.” She was already getting is backpack off the bike, turning she found him standing right in front of her.

His arm snaked around her waist pulling her closely with his finger over his lips. She held her breath waiting to hear whatever he heard. She didn’t hear anything, but it didn’t matter because he was moving. Before she blinked he was holding his crossbow and the bike was covered.

She walked behind him with her knife held tightly in her hand, all forms of panic gone. This was life or death; she would fight with everything she had or she would die. She followed behind him straining to hear what he had heard.

Suddenly in front of them, there were two women, their hands up in surrender. They were speaking and she leaned forward to hear it but Daryl stepped closer, putting a few feet between them. Before she could try and make out their words her world was spinning.

She heard the crack of the object against her skull after she was already tumbling into the darkness. There wasn’t even any pain when she slipped away. Maybe this is dying. She thought, no wonder people just gave up. If this was dying it was too easy.

The feeling of someone kicking her in the side jolted her out of the darkness. She moved to hide her eyes from the sun only to realize her hands were bound. Panic flared up and she twisted, rubbing the rope against her skin hunching forward. Not tied up, not without the use of her hands. She swore this would never be where she found herself, not again.

“Cut it out!” a voice sneered, kicking her again. This time the foot made contact with the bullet wound in her arm, causing her to scream as pain flared up. “Shut up!” There was a man in front of her now, she tried to look at him but pain blurred her vision. Breath hitched in her lungs, she hunched over gasping and gulping in air.

Daryl lunged forward hearing her scream. The man cocked the gun that was in her face, the world narrowed to only the barrel of it. Everything else seemed to fall away; the world was sharp and focused again.

“Get up both of you, we’re moving.” The gun was trained on her but he spoke to Daryl. “Here’s the deal, neither of you says shit and I won’t kill you.”

Her breath was ragged, fire burning in her lungs. She twisted her hands again, skin cutting open. Blood ran over her wrists, wet and warm. Her body turned to the side, legs crossing to hide herself from them. Her hair tumbled over her face, strands sticking to the wet trails on her cheeks.

“We’re not who you think.” Daryl’s voice was low, controlled, but she knew him enough to hear the rage behind it.

The gun was on him then, “Say something else, go ahead.”

Watching the gun pointed in Daryl’s face, her fear was replaced by a cold rage. I will kill them; the idea was so final in her head that she should have been frightened. She wasn’t though, just comforted in the finality of the decision she had made. She would live through this and then kill them.

The man was pulling her up now, pulling on the rope that bound her hands and shouting at them to follow behind the women. Pain ripped through her arm as she felt fresh blood well up in her sleeve soaking her. The world around her seemed to be moving slowly again, her eyes swept the area as they walked. Daryl was beside her then walking so his arm pressed against hers. She wasn’t sure how long they walked but she was sure it had been a while; her body was beginning to feel it now. Feet and back screaming she needed to stop, but she couldn’t since to stop was to die. A few times she was sure Daryl tried to get her attention, but everything was too much.

It was hard to focus. She was sure they were speaking to each other, to them too maybe? Daryl made no move to answer. She walked along, following the women’s backs, her mind drifting. She was sure they were speaking, but listening to their conversation would require more energy than she had right now.

Suddenly the gun was in Daryl’s face again, fear sliced through her like a knife. She tried to step between them, opening her mouth to say something, but her foot caught a root and she was sent tumbling forward. Without her hands to break the fall, her head connected painfully with the ground, white flashes of light in her vision.

There was more shouting then, the man threatening to shoot Daryl, but she couldn’t get up. Something grabbed the back of her sweater pulling her up; she tumbled forward into Daryl’s chest, the world tilting and shifting. She could hear the curses he whispered, and then he was calling her name. His words were too far away in her mind though despite their closeness. Glancing up, she met his gaze with wide unfocused eyes.

They were moving again now, shoving her and Daryl in front. She moved slower, almost stumbling again when they reached the end of the dense woods. In front of them stood a fenced in a factory of some kind, the dead wandering inside the fences. The few fleeting moments when their captors had their backs turned were bliss to her, she tried to breathe deeply. The pain in her head and arm roped her back down to earth, the pain was an anchor to the world.

A glance at Daryl and she knew what was next, they were going to run the moment they could. He gave her a small nod and she tried to nod back, not sure if it actually looked like one. Everything was still a little blurred. Then she heard their captors say something, the distress in their faces was clear. Something had happened, but she wasn’t able to make out what.

She was being pushed then blinking, Daryl came into focus in front of her mouthing run, and when she didn’t move he shoved her again. Finally, her body sprang into action, the blond woman was on the floor and she was running.

Twigs and branches whipped at her arms and face, but she didn’t stop. Faintly, the sound of the gunfire caused her to slow, but Daryl was right behind her telling her to keep moving. How long they ran she wasn’t sure, the intention was to keep running. The universe had other plans.

Her foot caught on a root again, this time she tucked and rolled. Muscle memory kicked in and Pandora found herself standing upright, stopping just short of a tree. If she hadn’t been on the verge of having a panic attack she would be more impressed. She couldn’t remember the last time she even practiced any of her moves.

She tried to wipe the hair from her face, only to raise her bound hands to eye level. “Daryl.” Voice high, she presented her bound wrists. Blood coated the rope from when she tried to get them off.
He sat her down on a log behind them, working the knot until the rope fell away. Something between a gasp and sob escaped her when the air hit the skin that had been rubbed raw. He watched her, hands on her arms squeezing lightly. Then he was gone, ripping the bag open to try the walkie.

Sitting, she tried to slow her breathing. It was fine now, she tried to tell herself. Her hands were free and no one was waving a gun in her face, they would get home. The groaning of one of the dead reached her after it reached him, when she turned her head Daryl was struggling to get the crossbow out of the bag.

Before she knew it she was on her feet, a knife in her hand, and then it was the head of the walker. Her arm ached, unable to pull the knife from his skull, blade wedged too deep. Both bodies dropped at the same time, she lay panting on her back eyes fixed on the sky above them. Hysterical laughter bubbled up from inside her filling the space around them. Daryl was pulling her up then forcing her to sit up, pressing water into her hands. The dead one lay beside her, the blade gone from its head.

The laughter had stopped when she pressed the bottle to her lips, she passed the bottle back to him to finish. Fingers tugged at her hair hanging around her face, she moved to take the rest of her weapons from the bag. The bag came open and a white cooler sitting upright was exposed, the words insulin written on the top.

“Oh for fuck's sake.” Her foot connected with the cooler knocking it over, but not before Daryl read the words on the front.

Chapter 11: Cracks

Notes:

So Hi! I know I didn't post last weekend and I am very sorry I missed you guys. I had to get a new computer mine finally died. Thank god I have all these chapters saved on my one drive! I do that because I legit write everywhere, on the bus, at work, sometimes in the store.
Anyway here is a new chapter! yay! Let me know what you think! Also, I am currently stuck on chapter 16, so give me some love and maybe my muse will come back!
Happy Sunday!

Without a word to Daryl, Pandora moved to zip the bag up. It took a few tries to get it closed as her hands were shaking violently. It didn’t matter what she saw in that bag, it didn’t matter. It was theirs now, finder’s keepers. The school-ground logic was the only thing that seemed to make sense her.

“Let’s go. Which way do you think the bike is?” Her tone was hard and her back was turned to him. In her head, she kept a running count of the time between breaths. In: 1,2,3,4 out: 1,2,3,4. All she had to do was keep moving and keep breathing, easy right? She didn’t get far before he was tugging the strap of the duffle to stop her.

“Pandora we-”

Snarling, she spun around, her hand shooting out to stop him. “No Daryl!” Her voice teetered on the edge of hysteria, eyes brimming with tears. “I want to go home.”

“That girl could die without those meds.”

“Then she dies.” She was nearly shouting now, the calm she had tried to hold on to was cracking slowly. “They knocked us over the head, tied us up and threatened to kill us. They are not good people.” Tears streaked down her face now, her anxiety and fear building. Hands tightened around the strap of the bag over her shoulder.

Home was beginning to feel like a distant memory. Her wandering blindly into the woods felt too much like before ,before the wolves came. He didn’t know, how could he even understand what she was trying to outrun. How could he know what haunted her in the night, he saw her wake up screaming but he had no idea.

Daryl was standing in front of her now, pulling her his solid, warm frame. “Ah’m gonna get us both home Ah swear it.”

She wanted to believe him, god she wanted to. He had never let her down before but this, this was different. The lack of choice made her skin crawl. What else was she going to do if he went back; she would go with him because she couldn’t be alone might as well lay down and die.

“We go back, trade the bag for whatever else they got and we go.”

A few moments of him holding her solid and present was enough to calm the storm inside her mind even if only for a moment. The thought of her hands tied up still plagued her mind. The idea of being helpless again made her want to put a bullet in their brains. He stepped back then and turned his eyes down, stuffing his hands in his back pockets.

“Ya stay back ok? Ah’m gonna do this and you stay behind me.”

They walked along slowly, more for her. Every step her body screamed in protest, a catalog of injuries was something she would need to do whenever shit stopped hitting the fan. No matter how slow she moved or how often she stopped, Daryl never allowed himself to get too far ahead of her, always looking back and checking that she was still there.

The more they walked, the more the pounding in her head increased. Just let me live to see the walls again. She had never had somewhere to go back to before. Now the promise of being back in Alexandria was like a siren’s song calling to her.

Something caught Daryl’s attention. Stopping, he put his finger to his lips. She stopped as well, her knife held tight in her hand. Peaking around his should she saw them sitting on a burnt fallen log, the blonde girl was leaning on the dark haired one. The sight of the girl pale and shaking didn’t bring any feelings forward from her.

“Drop the gun! Drop it!” Daryl’s was positioned high resting on his shoulder, aimed at the blond man's head. She tried to filter through the bits of conversation in her head, he had a name she knew that. Dwane? No Daniel? No Dwight she was sure he name was Dwight.

The gun in Dwight’s hand lowered, on impulse, she stepped forward. “Give it to me.” Daryl stiffened beside her, but she took the gun checking to see if it was loaded then pointed it at his head.
“What you for got for the duffle? You put us through too much shit just to give it back. Principle of the thing.” Daryl’s words were clipped tone rushed, he hoisted the bag onto his shoulder. Anxiety rode off in his waves, it made her feel uneasy.

Despite his question, the group in front of them remained silent, rage sparked inside her. “What else do you have besides this fucking gun!” She snapped.

“Nothing” The women finally answered, her arms around the younger girl tightening.

“What about that thing you were craving?” Daryl pointed the arrow tip at his pocket, the only place he could he carrying something.

Dwight reached into his pocket pulling out a small object, for a moment he kept his hand closed into a tight fist. Pandora trained the gun on him just in case. The day had been too long and too hard for her to trust anyone. One wrong move and she would put a bullet in his brain, problem solved.

“This? My grandfather taught me-“When he finally uncurled his fingers a small wooden around lay in his palm.

“Don’t care, it'll do.” Snatching it from his hand Daryl turned to her. No further words were needed, she shifted the bag off her should letting it drop to the ground.

“It’s all there, good luck. You’re going to need it.”

They turned together and started moving away from them. A weight eased off her chest as they turned away. It was done, they had done what Daryl wanted to do and now he would take her home.

The calm around them shattered with the sound of branches cracking around them. Daryl was fast, faster than she ever thought she could be. Before she could blink he was pressing her into a tree truck wedging her between the rough bark and his body.

There was the sound of boots and men shouting. The people were talking to them, screaming really. The words of the conversation never quite reached her ears, as hard as she tried to understand what they were saying.

Daryl pressed one of his hands to her mouth, it was then she realized she was hyperventilating. “Focus on me,” he whispered into her ear. “We are going to run, ok?”

The idea of running seemed hilarious right now, they were surrounded. She could see them in front of her creeping through the trees, guns at the ready. Her head turned slightly, these must be the ones from before the men who had shot at them. Something clicked into place a like the last remaining piece of a puzzle. Those men on the road hadn’t been waiting for just anyone, they had been waiting for Dwight and host group, and they had just gotten caught in the crossfire.

Suddenly he was shoving her forward, from the corner of her eye Dwight was trying to pull the blond girl up. Shoving her again Daryl moved backward putting his arm around the blond girl and tugging her forward. The five of them kept moving now together, staying low and quiet. The movement kept her focused, one foot, then another foot, head down, she gave instructions to herself.

Body running on auto pilot, she dashed behind a wall of burnt branches with everyone else. Panic thundered in her ears, she wasn’t going to make it. It was too much, too much running, hiding and almost dying.

The voices around her were but only sounded like background noise to her brain. She curled into herself, knees putting pressure on her chest. One hand rubbed the raw skin at her wrist, the pain it caused helped only slightly. Something told her she should be trying harder to fight the fog to pay attention. But her body moved alone not needing her mind to be present it seemed.

“Hey come on, you got it.” Daryl’s voice snapped her into focus; his hand squeezed hers before letting go.
“What’s wrong with her?” It was the man’s voice again, Dwight. Somewhere she thought she heard someone call him Dwight.

“She’s in shock. No thanks to you.” For the first time, she heard the true anger in his voice. Anger at her she thought. Struggling, she blinked looking up at him, but he wasn’t watching, his face was turned to Dwight.

“Like I said, we didn’t know everyone there.”

No reply from Daryl but they kept moving. Dwight shouted the younger girl’s name, Tina maybe.

Then she was sitting again, Daryl crouched in front of her, wrapping up the wounds on her wrists. He spoke to her slowly but the words never reached her. She tried, though, tried to hear the words and take them in. Her world had become fog.

Her fingers traced the white bandages wrapped around her wrists. It was then she realized he was gone. There was screaming, then some crying. She only turned her head away from it to watch the sunlight streaking through the leaves. Time seemed to pass around her. Unable to keep track of its passing, she drifted away again.

Her body ached, her mind was tired. More and more she thought she was going to die out here. Daryl would make it, he always did, but maybe not this time. Something would happen and she would be given to the trees. He couldn’t save her, he tried so hard. Part of her wondered why, why try?

“Come on Pandora, you gotta get up.” It was Daryl’s hands on her shoulders trying to pull her up. Her body didn’t cooperate though and suddenly she saw the desperation in his eyes. “Come on.”

“I’m tired.” She whispered, turning away from him his hands falling from her shoulders. She was so tired, the weariness had sunk deep into her bones, making a home there.

“Ah know.” That was all he said before pulling her up, ignoring her protests.

The next thing she knew he was talking about a car. She blinked, seeing him pulling the bike from under the branches where he hid it. That moment seemed like it was a lifetime ago already.

“Ah can walk it from here, until we meet with my friends. They have a car you can ride in.” Glancing at her, he jerked his head to the side. “Ya hold on this side, ok?” She only nodded, wrapping her hands around the handlebar of the bike to help him lead it out from the bush.
Something clicked behind her, Daryl swore and spun around pulling the cross bow from his back. She stumbled, the weight of the bike too much for her to hold up alone, it tipped over onto the ground. Turning slowly, she watched them, trying to make sense of what was happening. Helplessly, her mouth opened and closed trying to form words.

Dwight’s eyes snapped to her, “I'm sorry.” He was looking right at her now, rage curled in her stomach. “Give her the crossbow”

“You gonna go back? - You gonna be safe? Ain't nowhere safe no more.” Daryl growled at them.

“Give her the crossbow.” Dwight said again his voice holding an edge. Pandora watched helplessly as he pulled it off his shoulder and handed it over.

Her body was flying into motion before her head knew what was happening. She flew at him, hands raised for the gun. Either she was slow or he was fast or both, but the butt of the gun connected with the side of her head, sending her spinning. Tumbling backward, the ground seemed to rise to meet her. The shock of the landing made her gasp, air rushing from her lungs. Darkness spotted her vision, she tried to blink it away but it only grew.

The last thing she heard was the sound of the bike’s engine moving into the distance, then nothing.

Chapter 12: The Road Home

Notes:

Here we find ourselves again! Thank you guys for keeping and sticking with me! I am having a blast with this actually.
Anyway here is chapter 12, a little late today my BETA reader was late and I was putting up Christmas decorations all day. Still here you go. I'd love some comment love! It keeps me going!

The Road Home

This time she woke gasping, hands flying out in front of her. Struggling to calm her breathing, her eyes closed again. It felt like a marching band was marching around in her brain.

“Fuck.” She mumbled, tongue thick in her mouth. She tried to push herself into a sitting position but a weight pressed down on her.

“Hey ya you need take it real slow.” Daryl’s voice was slow beside her, weary even. Opening her eyes again, she found herself laying half in his lap. She blinked again, eyes focusing on the ceiling above her. She was in a car, maybe a truck, panic rose in her chest when she couldn’t quite figure out where she was.

“Come on up,” Daryl said, his hands were on her shoulders now gently sitting her up. The world tilted around her, eyes shutting again she counted to ten before trying to open them.

“Where are we?” she questioned, shifting her gaze around what she thought was a car. It wasn’t a car, however, but she realized now that they were too high up.

“Ah found a truck, a fuel truck like they used to burn the walkers with. Brought ya here till ya woke up.” His hand was on her face then, moving the hair from her eyes to check her pupils.

She stared back at him imagining what it must have been like to be alone and trying to keep her safe. Guilt filled her then and tears filled her eyes, the pounding in her head made everything worse. “I’m sorry.” She choked on the words, hands fluttering to her mouth.

“Look at me.” She did, eyes traveling up to his face. “None of this is your fault. Look I’m gonna get us back now, we find Sasha and Abraham and we all go home ok.”

Pandora nodded slowly, leaning her head back on the seat. She saw him look at her from the corner of his eye before he turned and started the truck. Shifting over, she checked the locks on the door. Her anxiety made her worry this would be taken from them too. She clicked the lock down, once, twice, three times. Three seemed like enough three seemed like it was locked for sure.

Once on the passenger side again she tried to lean her head against the cool glass. Hot tendrils of pain licked up the back of her neck, making her eyes water. The moment her head touched the glass though every bump they went over caused her head to bounce painfully against it.

“Come'er” Daryl finally said jerking his head. She sighed and slid next to him again. This time she rested her head on his shoulder, it was warm and steady making it much better than the window.

“Do you ever regret bringing me to Alexandria?” she asked suddenly. This whole trip had been a mess really. Part of her knew that if she was someone else it would have been different. If she had been Carol or Michonne it would have been different, they would have actually been a help, not a hindrance.
A scowl appeared on his face when he looked down at her. “Why'd you ask that?”

His tone was sharper than she expected. Still, she laughed bitterly, maybe the head trauma was finally catching up with her.

“Oh please, Daryl I’m a fucking mess.”
“We all are.”

That statement made her pause for a moment to consider. Searching through her memories she found the truth in his words. She could recall seeing the gleam of madness in Rick’s eyes sometimes. Seen Daryl woken up from his own nightmare and witnessed Abraham’s ticks and paranoia.

“I guess,” She answered slowly. “You all just seem so together.” Her gaze turned to watch out the window, they were driving into the town they had been coming through before. She realized she didn’t ask how he was going to find them, it never occurred to her before.

He scoffed, “We had time. Bad shit happened, we dealt with it, there was a break. You didn’t get a break.”
The pounding that seemed to rattle her brain now was a living testament to his statement. She pressed her face harder into his shoulder, unable to answer. The smooth ride in the truck lulled her back into the darkness and sleep claimed her again. It was different this time, though; her sleep was deeper, so deep that not even the nightmares could find her.

“Pandora, look.” Some time later his voice found her, opening her eyes she rubbed away the sleep. Mind still slightly foggy, she turned to follow his finger. Scratched into a metal door was the word Dixon. If she still wasn’t so tired she may have cried with relief.

He stopped the truck putting it into park, after a few horrible moments the door opened. Pandora was out of her seat and flying into Abraham’s arms before she could think about it. The ground pitched and her empty stomach heaved with the sudden movement, but he caught her nonetheless. Strong arms wrapped her into a tight hug as she sobbed helplessly against him.

“Come on kid,” he said patting her head lightly “Let’s go home.”

They were squeezed in a little tight once Sasha and Abraham were inside, but it didn’t matter. The warmth of being pressed against the two of them quickly lulled her back to sleep. A few times she broke through the fog so their conversation floated into her mind.

“Held a gun to our head.”

“We went back for you.”

“Concussion I think.”

The next time she woke, it was because someone was shaking her gently. When she opened her eyes, Abraham’s hard face greeted her.

“Look, alive kid, we got company.” Blinking, she lifted her head from his shoulder and struggled to clear the hair from her eyes. It felt heavy with oil and dirt; she winced thinking about how hard she was going to have to wash it to get it clean again. While her mind wandered she almost forgot the reason she was waking up until she felt Abraham shift beside her.

Men stood in the road before them, all on motorcycles and all holding guns. Dark eyes darted around her, they all only had one gun each, she didn’t even have one anymore. Daryl stopped the truck, gaze flicking to Abraham.

“Why don't you come on out, join us in the road?” The man in the front was speaking to them, leaning casually on the side of his bike.

Slowly, everyone inside the truck moved to get out. Fear pounded through her veins, and her body refused to cooperate, staying glued to the seat.

“Come on now I meant everyone. Even you pretty lady.” Colour drained from her face when she realized he was speaking to her. Daryl tugged at her hand pulling her out gently, she stood beside him feeling exposed. Her brain worked hard to make her body stand still and keep her face as calm as everyone else looked.

“That's great. It's going well right out of the gate. Now, step two, hand over your weapons.”

“Why should we?” Daryl’s answering snarl vibrated through her since she was standing so close to him.
“Well, they're not yours.” The man answered as if they were stupid.

“Whose are they?” Sasha’s voice now. Her mind was doing that thing again, the thing where it shut itself down as protection. She tried to warn Daryl, her hands reached for his squeezing tightly but he didn’t move, not even to look at her.

“Your property now belongs to Negan. And if you can get your hands on a tanker, your people our person wants to know. So let's get those sidearms, shall we? Right now.”

Daryl was reaching behind him to get the gun he had. “Thank you.” The man’s cold glance turned to her then, holding his hand out. She didn’t move as she was unable to process what it was he wanted from her.
“She don’t got one.” Daryl snarled taking a half step towards her.

“Now, now do you think I’d really believe that?” A hand flew out for her, grabbing her wrist and pulling her forward. Pandora screamed as his other hand ran over her body quickly. In a flash she was back with the wolves in a darkened forest, hands bound. The sound of his laughing tuned her into his words. “Hm guess you were right, I wouldn’t give her a gun either, little unstable this one.”

Daryl was in front of her then blocking them from her view, the wings on his vest swam in her tear-filled vision. The world didn’t come back into focus until she realized Daryl wasn’t in front of her anymore. She looked around and realizes he’s being shoved into the back of the truck, she turns trying to follow when a voice stops her.

“Not you Princess, you stay right here with us. Why don’t you go join your friends can’t have you passing out on us?”

Her feet don’t move, though, he said a lot of things but she didn’t understand any of them. Abraham comes to get her though putting a hand around her arm and pulling her to stand beside him. He says something she doesn’t catch but then the man is speaking again.

“You see, usually we introduce ourselves by just popping one of you right off the bat. But you seem like reasonable people. I mean, you're sportin' dress blues, for Christ's sake. And, like I said, we're gonna drive you back to where you were. I mean, do you know how awkward it is carpooling with someone whose friend or friends you've just killed? Oof. But I told you not to ask any questions. And then what does this ginger do? So that's that. I don't want you to get the wrong impression of me.”

The hammer click forces her to look at the gun now.

“Might as well be the Princess here, she looks half dead anyway.”

Pandora cocked her head to the side watching him with detected curiosity. How many times had she been this close to death, it always seemed too easy to her? Why was everyone so scared of it, one bullet and it was over.

“Wait! Wait.”

Sasha says something else, there is more speaking but Pandora doesn’t really hear it she just steps forward towards the raised gun. When the man lowers it her heart flutters: disappointment? Anger? Relief? She wasn’t sure what it was she felt.

Pandora doesn’t hear him decide to put the gun down then pick it back up. The next thing she registers is white hot heat and the feeling of being swept off her feet. Temporarily blinded, her vision was nothing but a sea of white and her ears rang painfully, blocking out the world around her.

She turned to her side feeling the contents of her stomach shift upwards and then she was vomiting onto the road beside her. Colour leeched back into the world then and she could make out the side of the truck. Abraham’s face was suddenly looming over her. Her hands flew out, pushing him away, his mouth was moving she would see that but no sound was coming out.

He stepped back and she pushed herself up watching him, unable to understand what he was saying. The ringing in her ears was fading slowly but not enough for her to make out anything. Not knowing what else to do, she held up three fingers and touched her ears.

Abraham nodded slowly and helped her up and back into the cab of the truck. She was between Daryl and Abraham again.

“She couldn’t hear me.” Abrahams voice now fading back into her hearing.

“She was standing too close to them, walking towards the gun.” Sasha now, she turned her head towards the other women while sticking a finger in her ear to try and clear the last of the ringing.

“Ah,” She muttered covering her ears. “Now you’re all too loud.”

Sasha chuckled at that. “You’re a mess Pandora gotta get the doctor to check you out back home.”
Despite still not being home it was so close she could taste it. Relief washed over her once she was able to hear them again. The rest of the ride was spent in relative silence. She was fine with that; her mind was a mess anyway. She wasn’t even sure she could have joined in on a conversation.

Hours passed the sun set in front of them and Pandora fought to stay awake. Abraham checked in on her from time to time. Shaking her and checking her pupils, each time she waved him away unable to meet his eyes.

“Kid?” He finally asked when her head lulled to the side trying to look away from him.

“Abraham I’m fine.” She muttered. Her head turned towards the window watching the sky darken.

In front of them, the walls of Alexandria appeared. Excitement fluttered inside her, Daryl rolled down the window it was too quiet. Pandora’s head snapped up, turning towards the open window, her hand rested on Daryl’s arm lightly.

“Something isn’t right.” Abraham snarled. The door opened and both he and Sasha stepped out of the truck, guns ready.

Pandora was faster, though; a lifetime of gymnastic training moved her body without her needing to think about it. With one hand she pulled herself to the top of the truck, muscles screamed at the movement but she ignored them.

Being on top of the truck she could stand on the edge of the wall. She could hear the dead before she saw them. Leaning over the edge she saw Maggie on the watch tower. The dead were all around her shaking the frame. Then Glenn was there shouting and drawing the dead away.

“Abraham! Sasha!” Pandora was jumping down then off the top of the wall then landing on her feet on the ground. “Glenn is down there! Help him” Gunfire was heard behind her. They didn’t answer, only rushed past her and within seconds there was the sound of gunfire.

Daryl was in the truck still waiting for the gate to open. When she slipped back into the passenger seat he was glaring at her, rage swirling in his gaze.

“The hell you doin'” he snarled at her, hands white on the wheel.

“I had to see!” she answered hissing at him, eye wide and panicked. “The dead are inside the walls, Daryl.” The fear tasted all too familiar now, the dull pounding that was in her head seemed to understand now was not the time and stepped out of the for front.

“We gon fix it.” He stated, turning his eyes back to the gate.

The sound of Sasha and Abraham shooting down the dead made her smile just a little bit, they would fix it.

When Glenn opened the gate Daryl drove forward, cleared it and it was shut behind him. As soon as he was stopped, she was outside. Dimly, she heard him shouting at her but she ignored it. Her hands gripped the first rung of the laddered on the side of the truck, it slipped slightly slick and wet with the blood now flowing from her wrists. Unthinking and wiped them on her legs and kept climbing upwards.

The dead roamed the streets, some moving towards them, some moving away towards sounds she could faintly hear. Her hands covered her mouth; she was tumbling to the edge of panic now. In that moment she remembered the feeling of burning her skin on the soup and how it had helped with the noise in her brain. With one hand she tightened her grip around the cuts on her wrist wrapped now in blood covered bandages. The pain was like a lightening bolt lighting up the night sky, everything was clearer.
“Abraham!” She hissed once he had helped Maggie and Enid down. “Give me a knife.”

He glared at her but didn’t move. “Please!” She begged. “I need to be able to protect myself.”

Sighing, he handed one over, a big hunting knife. She remembers having one before, where it was now she had no idea. Someone in the cab knocked on the ceiling getting their attention, they were going to start moving. Tucking the knife in her pants she slid back down and into the seat beside Glenn.

They had not really gotten to know each other, but still, she placed a hand on his arm and smiled. “I’m glad you’re ok.”

He only nodded and looked back at Daryl.

“I really hope you have a plan.” She muttered when he started moving. Her fingers rubbed her wrist as she listened to him explain what he was going to do. Her heart hammered in her chest but between the pain and the adrenaline, she didn’t have room for anything else.

Sticking her head out the window she pointed ahead, “Right here Daryl, this spot works.”

He turned the truck around and parked it, jumping out. She didn’t waste time and slipped out after him, shutting the door. Stepping around him she watched him empty the fuel into the lake. The others spread out taking out anything that came too close to Daryl.

Squaring her shoulders, she did the same and started driving her knife into the head of anything that was moving too close to them.

“Bitch nuts!” She heard Abraham scream, her head whipped around to see him barrelling towards her. “Get the hell over here.”

She shook her head and moved beside him, she wouldn’t stop killing the dead she would just do it close to him so he didn’t worry. Daryl came running around the front of the car then grabbing her arm and pulling her with him.

“Come on!” He shouted, “Get in and move it.”

Abraham moved first, sliding into the driver’s seat, the others filed in after him. Helplessly she looked at Daryl still standing beside her.

“Ahm going on the roof, you comin?” She nodded and before he could change his mind she was grabbing and ladder with once hand and vaulting her body onto the top of the truck. She could have sworn she could hear Abraham cursing from the inside.

“Sit!” He told her once he was beside her. For the first time she did, covering her ears with her hands as she watched him point to the rocket launching at the now fuel filled lake.

In a flash, the whole night was lighting up, flames spread from the lake to the river burning a hot path through the air. The dead turned, drawn by the light and the sound. Below them, everyone was out now weapons raised. Daryl was getting down, knife in his hand. He didn’t look back at her either forgetting of letting her make this call for herself.

Something snapped and it was almost like she was outside her body looking down at herself. She was moving before they knew she was moving, knife out taking down as many dead as she could. She felt nothing, no pain, no fear, no panic only a cold rage that grew with every one of the dead she took down. She didn’t stop like the others; she kept going, taking down as many as she could.

She fought until her knees gave in and she hit the ground hard. Blood covered her, some her own from wounds that had opened, some from the dead she took down. Someone was there beside her then, lifting her. She couldn’t see through the blood and sweat in her eyes.

“You did great kid.”

She couldn’t answer; everything she had felt before came back ten-fold, pain screaming in her body. She struggled slightly against the hold of whoever had her, but eventually she gave in and went limp.
She must have blacked out because when she came to again she was laying on a hospital bed, Denise’s face over hers.

“There you are.” She breathed. “Got you all patched up, just rest ok? It’s over you're home.”

Home, she thought as she drifted away again. She was home.

Chapter 13: Different

Notes:

Another week another chapter! I'm still having a lot of fun writing this, most of my inspiration happens at work! Hope you all enjoy, don't forget to drop me a comment!

Chapter 13 Different

A breeze came through the window blowing the heavy wet strands of Pandora’s hair. Pandora didn’t move to shut it or move the hair form her face. She stayed in the chair she had pulled to the window, knees drawn to her chest and a heavy blanket wrapped around her. The heavy feeling the blanket was providing felt almost like a hug, almost like something was wrapping its arms around her and holding her tight.

It had been a week since they had made it back, a week since they had killed hundreds of the dead to take back their home. A week since she had learned that while she was away, the wolves had come. Since then she had not left the room. Not to get food, to see Abraham or Aaron, nothing. Every time someone tried to come in she would promptly lock herself in the bathroom, or slip away into some corner of her mind refusing to speak. Daryl still slept in the room but he was gone all day by the time he was back she was sleeping. Every night he tried to wake her, every time he came back he tried to get her to speak. The only time she opened her mouth and made any sound was to scream at night when the nightmares came.

She had lost count of how many times Denise and others had come in and sat by the bathroom door talking to her. She hadn’t opened the door yet though. Empty plates of food littered the room, clothes piled into corners. She hadn’t cleaned or eaten really, it just kept piling up.

A knock on her door made her turn.

“Pandora, come on it’s me.” Daryl’s voice came from the other side of the door.

She tried to push herself up from the chair to move to the bathroom, but every movement became too hard to complete. Her body felt weak, empty. How long had it been since she had eaten, a day, maybe two, maybe three? She couldn’t remember. She had gotten up not long ago to shower and change. When she walked past the plate of food nothing appealed to her. Lost in her own thoughts she didn’t even hear the click of the door opening.

“Fuck,” There was a whispered curse from Daryl. “Doc come on in, Ahm need you.”

He was in front of her then snapping his fingers in her face. Her hand came up to push his out of the way. Even that took effort as just the act of lifting her hand made her feel weak.

“No, no, you gotta eat or the Doc sticks a needle in you.”

Pandora dimly registered the word needle. It had her reaching for the plate that he put in front of her. She didn’t taste anything just put it in her mouthsz, bite, chew, shallow, and again.

Once again he was reaching for the plate, this time it was because it was empty.

“Did she eat?” Denise was asking from somewhere behind her. “Get her to drink this.”

Daryl was handing her something else now, a tall glass with a straw. The glass was cold, her gaze flickered down. It was filled with a dark brown liquid, her stomach flipped in protest. Nose wrinkled, she tried to hand it back to him.

“Drink it.” His tone left no room for argument; a shaking hand took the glass back from him.

It tasted like chocolate; it was heavy settling into her stomach. Under the glare of Daryl, she finished the drink and handed it back to him. It left an after taste of chemicals that coated her mouth.

“That’s real good.” He was beside her now, looking down at her. “What number are you on?”

It was a question he still asked everyday even when she wasn’t able to give him an answer. Still he waited, Denise was there again too beside her.
“Pandora you have to let us help you.” There was a pleading tone in her voice. How could they even ask her that, helping her would be allowing her to never leave this room again. Outside of this door there were people and people were unpredictable. A sigh escaped her lips and she held up three fingers, the tension was a thrum in her veins.

“I can’t leave here,” She whispered half to herself. “I can’t be out there.” There was the barrel of the gun in her face again, the rope around her wrists. The vision she had put together in her head of the wolves coming right through the gate, right for her. She was rocking back and forth, she felt it, but she couldn’t stop.

“Damn it.” Daryl growled. He sounded farther away now. “Ya gotta give her something to calm her down. It’s been a damn week and she won’t leave here.”
Anger in his voice directed at her. Angry she couldn’t get her shit together long enough to even step outside her goddamn room. Rocking harder, she covered her ears with her hands, unable to bear the sound of his voice.

There was more talking but she couldn’t make it out with her hands firmly in place over her ears. It was better this way anyway, better not to hear them. But when someone pulled her hands down from her ears she jumped and started screaming.

Tara was kneeling down in front of her now, holding her hands down. Denise was beside her hovering.

“Pandora look at me and breathe ok?” Tara was speaking to her now, her voice low and controlled. Pandora only nodded, forcing her breathing to become slow and controlled. She wasn’t sure how much time she spent like that, but it must have been a while.

Denise spoke to her slowly as she breathed, telling her all the things that she knew to be true. Reminding her they fixed the wall, they killed the dead and it was safe again.

“I almost died out there,” She finally whispered her voice was horse from lack of use for so long. “Every time I close my eyes I see either the wolves or the barrel of that gun in my face.” Where ever these words had been locked away they were spilling out now in a panicked wave. “It would have been so easy! All of this would have been over. I’m a burden Denise don’t you see that?! The best survivor and the most valuable person here spend their days taking care of me and for what? I can’t even get my shit together. What could I ever offer this place?”

The room was silent then, but she was moving, pushing past Tara to rush for the bathroom door. Flinging the door open she rushed inside, gasping and sobbing heavily. Something inside her cracked, the wall she had up holding back the days she spent outside the wall shattered like glass.

The door shut behind her; whirling, she saw Daryl moving towards her. Her hands went out to stop him at first but then she found herself clinging to him. He was a life raft, and she had been close to drowning for so long. She sobbed helplessly against his chest, guilt, grief and fear flowing out of her.

He held her tightly though pressing her head into his chest. He whispered to her then, first the usual stuff that she was safe and everything was fine. Then he told her stories, from before his group came here, from even before the world turned to shit. She listened, pressed against him trying to breathe slowly.

“Ah should have never brought you out there.” He whispered when she had finally stopped crying. Calm was settling over her now, calmer than she had felt in a long time. The calm you can only get from emptying an ocean of emotion through tears. “I should have known it wouldn’t be safe.”

She looked at him then, moving a strand of hair from his eyes. “I don’t blame you.” Her voice was a thin whisper, the action of moving her hand made her feel like she had run a marathon. She didn’t really blame him; she blamed herself for not being enough. Not strong enough, not fast enough or not brave enough. She was always falling short of what was needed; this new world wasn’t made for people like her anymore.

Daryl shook his head slowly and leaned back, hand braced against the floor. “You ready to get up?” He asked lightly. She realized then that she was sitting on the floor, in his lap no less. Her face colored as she leaned away from him.

She actually nodded yes, which surprised even herself. She was feeling better now than she had in a long time. Standing, she turned her back to the mirror not ready to face her own reflection. She walked back into the bedroom; everything had been put back in its proper place. The dirty clothes she had lying around were gone, replaced by some new ones folded on the dresser.

All the things she had thrown around during her fits were put back in their place and reorganized. A few protein bars and some new books were on her dresser. The sight made her heart ache, that feeling was quickly replaced by guilt because they were all so selfless.
Her feet found themselves moving back to the big chair in front of the window. Daryl followed pulling up the second one beside her. The room had been set up to house the both of them, it was a little cramped but she never once heard him complain. Two chairs and two beds, he had some things the drawers. Before they had gone out of the walls he hadn’t been staying here as often, after he slept here every night.

“What number are you on?” He asked leaning back against the chair watching her.

She held up three fingers, anxiety buzzing at her nerves. She turned away not wanting to look at him. He seemed to always be able to see right through her, sometimes it was unnerving.

“Ya know Ah ain’t letting you do that again, right?” By that she was guessing he meant her nearly becoming catatonic, because she couldn’t think of anything else she had done. “Gotta ask you something.”

Pandora turns slightly tilting her head to side as a way to show him he can continue. Her mind struggled to pay attention to him, when people were calm and quiet it helped as too much energy made her shut down.

“Ah got a new place just for me little townhouse, Ah want you to come with me.”

The question shocked her slightly, but she couldn’t seem to bring herself to respond. She tucked her legs under her body to keep her body heat in. Turning to him she only managed to raise her eyebrows at him questioning.

“Ya don’t have to answer right now.” He said, back-tracking now, hands raised and watching her cautiously.

She wasn’t going to answer right now anyway; she wasn’t sure that her head would let her get an answer out. Her body was tried more so now with trying to follow this conversation.

She wasn’t sure how much time had passed as they sat in comfortable silence. Her eyes drifted back to the window, everyone around never seemed to stop moving. Everyone was always working, new walls, fixing homes, moving the debris from the tower. Part of her wished they she could be out there with, not that she was sure what she could even do.

She wasn’t sure when it happened; she didn’t even remember shutting her eyes. But then they were opening again, the bright light of the morning sun shining full force on her face. She shifted her bones and joints grinding from stiffness. For a few moments, she sat there stretching out the aches from her arms, lifting them above her head and out in front of her. Legs next, she un-tucked them from her under her, feet hitting the floor softly. Her knees groaned painfully when she tried to move them. With growing realization, she knew she needed to stand to work out the pain in her joints.

Fingers digging into the arm rest on the chair, she pushed hard, lifting her body up from the seat. Her entire body felt like it was full of heavy lead. Licking her lips, she tried to moisten the dryness in her mouth, nothing seemed to work. Fingers gripping the chair she tried to use it to support herself as she moved.

‘Left foot, right foot, left foot right foot.’ She told herself repeatedly as she made her way towards the bathroom door. With every step her sore and stiff body woke up more, every step was easier to take.

The bright lights of the bathroom burned her eyes, flicking all of them off save for one she moved to the shower in the dime light. Naked she took inventory on her injuries

“Afternoon.” Daryl was sitting in her window seat now legs up on the window sill in front of him. Her gaze flickered to the tall glass of liquid beside him. Before she had even crossed the room, he was standing in front of her the glass in his hand.

“Drink.” He told her sternly.

This time she did with little resistance. When she was finished, she set it down on the small table between the chairs. Settling back in the chair she tucked her legs under her again. Daryl was standing behind her now; he draped a heavy quilt on her shoulders. The heavy feeling was a comfort, reminding her to feel her body, to remember where she was.

Time stretched out between them in the comfortable silence. After a while she heard him shift in his chair, she turned slightly to look at him. “Ah need a smoke.” He remarked standing and padding his pockets to look for the pack.

Oh, he was good she thought slowly, he was really good. He knew just what he was doing that glint in his eyes gave him up. Slowly gripping the sides of the chair she hoisted herself up. Her legs were shaky unsteady, weak from lack of food and movement. Still she stretched them, bending on leg straight out in front of her, before stretching it to the ceiling.

If Daryl was impressed he didn’t show it, only turned and made his way out the door without a glance back at her. Pandora followed though each step slow and careful. You can go back inside at any moment she told herself. But inside, she couldn’t smoke, Denise had made that clear to her.

The large sweater she wore allowed her to hide her shaking hands in the too long sleeves. The main floor was empty, save for a room in the back where Carl was still in a coma. She hadn’t heard the whole story, not yet at least but she knew that he had been shot. Everyone had been worried he wouldn’t make it, but she knew somehow she knew he would. These people were different, they always survived.

When she stepped out onto the porch Daryl was already leaning on the railing with a lite cigarette hanging from his lips. He smirked at her and handed her one of her own. The bitter tang of the smoke filled her lung once it was lit. The breath in her lungs was slower now savoring the smoke.

“Well, Well Mr. Dixon has done it.” Aaron appeared on the side walk in front of the house. There was a small finch that she hoped was hiding by the size of her sweater.

Aaron had come by sometimes too, a few times she hadn’t even hidden from him just sat in the big chair and listened. He was different now; she could tell everything that had happened had changed him. As it usually did, the world beyond these walls was cold now. People like Daryl, like Aaron they didn’t exist out there anymore.

“I thought you two might be hungry.” He was placing two plastic containers on the small table between the chairs. She titled her head to peer inside, it looked like pasta. “It’s Eric’s spaghetti, one of Daryl’s favorites.” He added with a wink in her direction.

Beside her, Daryl snorted but said thank you. Aaron was looking at her again, “I’d like to visit tomorrow if you’re up for it.”

Not trusting her voice, she only nodded. It was rewarded by his smile.

Turning to leave, he waved over his shoulder, “I’ll see you tomorrow then Pandora.”

When he was gone they finished smoking in silence, when Daryl finally put his out he jerked his head to the door.

“Come on let’s eat.”

Chapter 14: A new normal

Notes:

Happy Sunday wonderful readers. As you all know we are getting closer and closer to Christmas. I think I will post another chapter next week, then take some time off for the holidays. As always please let me know what you think! I love hearing from you.

The New Normal

Daryl took the food back to the room, setting it on the window sill in front of the big chairs.

“Eat.” He ordered, gesturing toward the food.

With lumbering steps, she slipped her boots off and settled into the chair, pulling the lid off the container. It did smell good; it was still warm as steam tendrils were drifting up. Somewhere in her mind she was sure she felt guilty for making him worried. It was hidden though, hidden behind the increasing paranoia she had been feeling.

Between bites of food, she glanced at Daryl who was plowing through the content of his container. Aaron had been right; this was a dish he liked. She was able to finish half of hers before her stomach began to revolt at the amount of food she was consuming.

Wordlessly, she pushed the rest toward him. He inspected what she had eaten before he finished the rest himself.

When he was finished he turned to her again.

“Gotta see how you’re healing ok?”

Panic flared inside her causing her heart to beat wildly inside her chest. She tucked her hands under her folded legs to hide them, as if it would cause him to forget.

No one had checked her wounds since the day after she had been back. She hadn’t allowed anyone to look at her. The cuts on her wrists were the worst she knew, when she felt too panicked or began to slip away she would rub them raw so the pain grounding her.

Daryl moved toward her, either not noticing her panic or not caring. “Can I?” He questioned, fingers brushing the helm of her shirt.
Numbly, she nodded, keeping her eyes on the window behind him. Slowly, she stood as she slipped the sweater off, leaving her in only a tank top. He lifted that slightly too to peer at the bruising along the right side of her torso. He was gentle, fingers brushing her skin lightly, color rose in her cheek as goose bumps prickled her skin.

“Looks good, it’s healing nicely.” She glanced down before he pulled her shirt down. The skin was a greenish yellow color, the bruising fading from the angry purple it had been.

He checked her arm next; it was scabbing over from the hit she took when they fell off the bike. The sweater was back in her hands now so she slipped it over her head, hands shaking.

He reached for her left hand, she jerked back and stumbled causing her to bump into the bed.

“Pandora Ah ain’t gonna hurt you.” Daryl’s voice was calm as he stepped towards her again. “And Ah ain’t gonna be mad.”

“ I-I-I” Her brain refused to cooperate with her demands of communication. She stammered, unable to get anything out. Tears pooling in her eyes, she held her hands out to him, taking deep shuttering breaths.

Carefully, he un-wrapped the bandages while she watched, unable to look away. An angry red line about an inch thick ringed both her wrists. Panic flared, her breaths coming faster now.

“Hey, hey it’s ok come'ere.” He led her into the bathroom then sitting her down on the toilet. When she blinked again, he was holding a cloth in his hand. “This is going to sting ok?”

She only nodded, avoiding his eyes. When he wiped the wound the stinging cut through her panic and she sucked in a breath, hissing through her teeth.
“Sorry.” He muttered. The apology rang hollow, however, because he didn’t stop but only started on the next wrist.

Pandora bit the inside of her cheek so hard she tasted blood in her mouth. While trying to keep her breathing under control, she didn’t notice that he had finished and was now wrapping her in clean white bandages again.

“All done” He said standing up and running his hand over his face. “I’m gonna go see Rick and Carl.”

He didn’t ask her to come knowing she wouldn’t. Instead they both stood, leaving the bathroom. When she turned toward her bed he caught her arm “Ah’ll be back.”

Without thinking, she stood on her tip toes and kissed his cheek gently before moving to the bed. Sleep was something she could never seem to get enough of these days. Between the nightmares, she was lucky to even be sleeping for a few hours at a time.

As she turned away from the door she heard him leave, heavy foot falls echoing down the hall. Slipping out of her clothes, she tossed them in the hamper. In the dresser, she found a large t-shirt that fell past her knees once it was on. Sliding under the blankets she sighed and under the warmth her eyes grew heavy. The beauty of sleep never lasted though.

In her dream the burnt forest felt so real, the ash coated her lungs as she breathed. Fire burned in her legs as she ran. A voice whispered in her head telling her to keep running, keep running. Just like before, a root caught her foot sending her stumbling down, only she never stopped falling. Darkness filled the space around her as she fell. Her mouth opened, but there seemed to be no air, nothing she could suck in to even scream.

The sensation of hitting the ground jolted her out of sleep. Bolting upwards, her hands clasped over her mouth to stop the scream she was sure was coming. Minutes stretched by as she sat up in the bed gasping for breath. When she was finally calm, her eyes drifted to the side to see that Daryl was gone. His bed looked as if he hadn’t even slept in it.

Panic gripped her again, where was he? He said he was going to be here, he said he would come back. Flying from the bed, she tugged on a pair of jeans she had left on the floor. Before she registered where she was going, she was outside.

The night was cool and calm, blanketing Alexandria in the type of silence that only came from the hours of deep night. Standing at the bottom of the steps, her brain finally caught up with her and she realized she had no idea where she was even going to look.

Turning, she glanced down the street. He usually did watch in the same tower. Her legs found themselves moving in that direction. Rustling could be heard from the top of the lookout, relief filled her. He had to be up there, maybe he got called last minute and couldn’t tell her. She was climbing the ladder now slowly, but when she got to the top she froze.

Staring back at her was a baffled looking Michonne. The next breath she took was more like a gasp.

“I-I-I was l-l-looking for Daryl.” She stammered hands closing into fists at her sides. Panic raged inside her, if he wasn’t here she didn’t know where he was.
“Hey, hey it’s ok.” Michonne was beside her then, hands on her shoulders. Pandora flinched but the woman didn’t pay it any mind and just let her hands fall away. “He’s at my house watching Judith. Let me take you.”

Numbly, she could only nod and follow the other woman down the ladder. Pandora hadn’t seen the other woman much since everything had happened. She knew that her and Rick took turns sitting with the unconscious Carl, as well as taking care of Judith.

“Pandora? This way.” Michonne was moving down a darkened street to their right. Pandora followed behind her closely, realizing then that she couldn’t remember where the house was. The house that Daryl had once shared with Rick and them, he had moved somewhere else. He had told her that just the other day; he had gotten his own place, a place he wanted her to come to.

She was standing then at the steps to the front door, Michonne opened it glancing back at her. Pandora climbed the stairs, stepping into the front of the home. Glancing around, she saw him lying on the sofa with his arm over his eyes. His boots off, forgotten on the floor. He stirred as she stepped forward, the floor squeaking under her feet.

Opening one eye he looked up from under his arm, face still heavy with sleep. “Pandora? Wh-” He didn’t get to finish because she was flying at him, throwing herself on top of him where he lay. She tried not to cry, biting down on the inside of her cheek to stop the sounds.

“Hey, hey.” He cooed at her, sitting up and pulling her up with him so that she was sitting in his lap with her legs hanging off the edge of the sofa. Her arms were in a vice grip around his neck, frame shaking against him.

Somewhere, she knew this level of panic was completely uncalled for, but her terror was never logical. Heart pounding, tears leaking form her eyes, she stayed like that for a while, her face hidden against his chest.

“I woke up,” She stammered. “You weren’t there.”

At first he didn’t answer, only held her by the shoulders and pushed her away slightly so he could look at her.

“Ah told you Ah would come back.” His voice was a low rumble against her.

“You could have gone outside the walls, and then anything could have happened.”

Pandora watched the hard lines of his face soften slightly when she finished speaking, she had to look away. His eyes seemed too bright in the darkness of the room.

“Sorry,” He was pulling her close again, into a tight hug. “Ah should have come and told you first.”

Pandora nodded leaning away from him, she slid off his lap, face feeling hot. She knew she was being stupid, but right now with the tang of panic in her mouth she couldn’t bring herself to say it out loud.

It was only when she had calmed down that she realized Michonne was gone, and it was just the two of them. Well the two of them and Judith, her gaze shifted to the tiny picture on the monitor. The little girl was still sleeping peacefully, not even moving at all the sounds downstairs.

It was odd to see a baby right now, to think that someone thought it was a good idea to bring a baby into a world like this. Judith seemed almost two years old now which means she was born before they had this place. She remembered Daryl telling her about the prison they had lost, the perfect place.

“Looks like yer stuck till Michonne comes back.” He muttered leaning back on the sofa, he tucked his hands behind his head and sighed. “Ahm sorry I didn’t tell yah where Ah was going.”

Pulling her knees to her chest, she sighed resting her chin top of them, “Sorry I freaked the fuck out.” She whispered, worried that being too loud would wake up the baby.

“Ain’t your fault.” He answered shaking his head slightly. One arm covering his eyes now. She turned her head to the side and watched him.
“Why do you care so much?” She asked, she had asked him this before, but now he asked her to live with him. He had taken the full weight of helping her through the recovery, if they could even call it a recovery.

“Cause there were still people out there people worth saving,” He said peering at her from under his arm. “I know that yer worth saving.”

“Maybe I was before, not now, not anymore.” Her voice was soft, holding no real emotion in it, just fact.

“Yah can come back. Everyone can come back.”

Pandora still watched him, tears blurring her vision. She blinked them away before they fell. She wondered what it was that he thought he saw in her. But that was for another day she guessed, he was good that was all the reason she needed right now. He was one of the few good men standing in a sea of shit.
“Before all of this,” She gestured with her hands to the room around her. “I was a gymnast; I went to the Olympics and everything. I even won a gold medal.” She remembered that she wore it all the time; even after the world went to shit she kept it with her. She had left it behind when they left the apartment building, in the bag in her room.

There hadn’t been time to get it, not when the dead had cracked the glass and started to pour inside. She remembered how naked she felt without the cold weight of it around her neck. The sound of Daryl clearing his throat next to her triggered her back to reality.

“I thought training was hard but I never imagined how hard it could get.” She muttered. Her knees were still pulled up to her chest, arms wrapped around them. She had thought that getting up at the crack of dawn and training until she was bleeding was hard, but this new world, this was hard.

“Where did ya go? To get the medal.” He didn’t comment on the last things she had said, no he steered her away from that onto something different.

“Brazil, Rio Olympics.” She smiled now, remembering the feeling of being there, of being a part of something so big. When she looked at Daryl again he was watching her openly, an odd expression on his face. The smile slipped from her face, her eyes brows shooting up into her forehead. “What?” She asked, suddenly self-conscious.

“Nothin’ never seen ya smile before.”

That statement made her laugh suddenly, a harsh unused sound. She found herself smiling again, watching him, “You’re a good man Daryl Dixon.”
The side of his mouth curved up in a tiny smile and he turned away, pulling a blanket off the side of sofa. Tossing it toward her he slid toward the end of the sofa.

“Oh no, I’m done with sleeping.” She murmured, shaking her head from side to side.

He only shrugged, pulling the blanket over himself instead, feet resting on the table in front of him.

“Ah’ll sleep then.”

Turning his head to the side and closing his eyes he did just that. She watched him for a while until the sound of his breathing was slow and steady. Then she got up and moved to the kitchen, the feeling of hunger tugged at her.

The home looked lived in, bottles on the counter, some plates still in the sink. She would guess cleaning was not the first thing on their mind right now. She stepped up to the sink, turning on the water and getting to work. It didn’t take long until the kitchen was clean again and Pandora was peeking in the fridge.
“Not much in there.” The voice behind her made her jump, fingers tightening on the handle of the fridge. It took a few moments of deep breathing before she was able to close the door and face Rick. He stood leaning against the island, new containers of food were sitting in front of him that had not been there before.

“S-s-sorry,” The word was strained, her head roared as her nerves were making her shake. “I was just looking for something to eat.”

Rick gestured to the food in front of him, “Here, help yourself.”

She moved to gather two plates and forks. Opening both containers, she made two plates. One container was a type of fried rice, the other corned beef. Sliding the plate over to Rick, she took her own. Sitting on the chair at the island, she made sure to put a healthy amount of distance between them. She was uneasy and he made her more uneasy, all of this was a dangerous slope.

“You did this?” His chin jerked to the stack of clean dishes drying on the counter.

Pandora only nodded, shoving a forkful of food into her mouth. She glanced outside quickly, the sky was beginning to lighten meaning it must be close to sun rise.

“Thank you.” He said, nodding and going back to his food.

They ate in silence for a while, both of them fixing their gaze to the plates in front of them. The fork in her hand clattered against the plate when she took more food, her hands unable to keep steady right now.

“You helped us take this place back; this is your home now too. I know I didn’t make it seem like that before” Pandora looked down at her hands tightened into fists on either side of her plate. The memories of that night threatened to surface, the feeling of being covered in warm blood, the bodies piling up around them.

“Sorry,” He said, hands in the air. “Daryl told me not to, sometimes I forget.” He was moving then, standing in front of her. Startled, she jumped backward, the chair clattering to the floor.

She turned, picking the chair up and standing behind it. Her hands tightened on the wooden back. Her brain struggled to make coherent thoughts, Rick was watching her closely. He had stepped back now, putting more space between them.

“S-sorry,” She whispered. “I had to help, you need this place.” Her voice was hardly above a whisper but he seemed to hear it.

“So do you.” He replied.

Daryl appeared in the opening to the living room then, his hand rubbing his eyes. “S’lright?”

Pandora nodded, turning she put a plate together for him, setting in on the counter beside her. A ploy she was sure that he saw right through, having him close made her feel calm. Stiffly, she slipped back into the chair she was in before, Daryl slipped into the one beside her and Rick was already sitting down.
“How’s Carl?” Daryl asked around the food in his mouth. The tension felt like it was leaking out of her, having him carry the weight of a conversation was much better. She went back to eating her food as well, glancing at them through the strands of hair that had fallen over her eyes.

Rick’s sigh was audible, filled with all the pain of almost losing someone, “No change, he could wake up any day now though.”

“He will.” Pandora was speaking before she knew what she was even saying. “He survives, just like all of you.”

The two men seemed to have been stunned into silence; they both looked at her slightly opened mouth. She returned to eating, trying not to feel uncomfortable under their gazes.

Chapter 15: Run

Notes:

Happy New Year everyone! Is has been a few weeks since I posted I know! The holidays were crazy, my first week back at work was crazy. Starting now we are back to regular Sunday updates. Well I will try my best for Sunday updates, sometimes life has different things in mind.
Anyway here is the next chapter. Please let me know what you think I love all kinds of comments! Even the ones about my grammar! Though my Beta reader was not as pleased.
Happy Sunday.

Chapter 15 Run
The afternoon found her back in her room in the infirmary. Legs crossed, she sat in the center of the bed, scanning the room around her. This had been her room since she had gotten here, this was all she knew. Close to the doctor, close to Daryl. By choice she noted, he wasn’t living here before but had moved in because of her.
Guilt creeped into her veins then, solid and slow. She had changed his entire life; he had molded himself around her and her care. Sighing, she stood to empty the drawers and stack her things on top of the dresser. She would go she decided, it wasn’t a big deal. It shouldn’t be a big deal, even though the idea of leaving this room caused her worry. For Daryl, she would move into his new place because he shouldn’t have to live between two places.
There was a knock on her door when she was almost done gathering the things in the bathroom. Sighing, she set the plastic bag with her stuff on the dresser and went to open it.
“Hi,” the doctor said as she stepped inside and sat in one of the chairs next to the dresser. “Are you ready?” She questioned, raising her eye brows.
Heavily, Pandora plopped herself down on the bed. She had been feeling good today, despite not really sleeping. She had left her room, gone all the way to Rick’s and even ate with him, sort of. There was no conversation on her part but he didn’t seem to mind. She had made a big choice to move, to become a bigger part of the community. Despite the low-level thrum of anxiety she was feeling, this was the best she had felt in a long time.
She would stay busy; she decided being busy didn’t leave her much time to think and if she didn’t think she would be fine.
“Pandora?”
Right, Denise was still there waiting to get her therapy started; wanting to dig deep into her trauma and talk about it. The heavy feeling was back again.
“Are you ready?” Denise asked again, she opened the notebook she had been making notes in. “I wanted to talk about what happened before you came here if you’re feeling up for it.”
“No.” Her tone was sharper then she had meant, but the idea of talking about the noise in her head was creating more noise in her head. “I don’t want to talk today. It's not helping.”
Denise only leaned back, arms crossing over her chest. “Why do you think that?”
Pandora scoffed, tossing a strand of hair from her face with a shaking hand. Anxiety flared up, getting ready to choke off her thoughts. Her skin was tingling like someone was running their hands over her arms. She rubbed her arms hard until the feeling of the phantom touches was replaced by the heat from her own hands.
“I’m still the same mess I was when I got here. Nightmares every night, can’t hold a fucking conversation.” Every word became angrier, volume increasing as she spoke. Her eyes met Denise’s who sat back, face calm. “Talking isn’t helping.” It wasn’t, not to her at least, not when she went to sleep every night remembering something new.
“I’m not sure you remember what you were like when you came here.” The other women noted casually.
Denise was right; she wasn’t sure what she had been like. Even now, no one told her. But the wary glances and tight muscles of some of the people who passed her was hint enough. She had been violent, that much she gathered as she needed drugs to keep her calm and safe.
Anger boiled inside her now, though, anger that she wasn’t as strong as everyone else. That she couldn’t shove it down and move past it. She knew she wasn’t angry with Denise, none of this was her fault. The anger took on a life of its own, finding new trains of thought to burn through.
“It doesn’t matter.” She snapped. “I’m done talking. I want to forget.”
“Forgetting isn’t going to help you heal,” Denise said, leaning forward now. “What you went through was horrible, and if you leave it bottled up it may get worse.”
Pandora was standing now, hands balled into fists and shaking at her sides. “I don’t care!” She was screaming now. The anger was burning white hot. Anger at her situation, anger at what happened to her. “I don’t want to remember anymore. I do that enough at night. Every time I close my fucking eyes I’m back there. Being raped over and over again, while watching everyone I love die. I’m done.”
“Pandora. You need to sit and take some deep breaths okay? You need to be calm. We- “
Whatever Denise said next was lost in the roar of rage in her brain. She had to get out, she had to move. Anywhere was better than here, anywhere Denise wasn’t was perfect. She suddenly couldn’t stand to be in the same room as her and her never ending questions.
Dimly, she felt Denise reach for her arm. It was then that she realized she was standing at the door. Her body moved of its own accord these days. Shoving the other woman’s hand off her arm, she was flying out the door. Down the steps, outside the house.
Her lungs burned as she ran, it had been so long since she had pushed herself like this. She could feel the eyes of others on her as she moved down the street, almost hear the whispers as she passed. She imagined what they said, whispering about her weakness or about how dangerous she was.
She didn’t even know where she was going; she just knew that she needed to move and be out of that fucking room. Whatever rational part of her brain she had left was being over shadowed by anger. The sound of the wheels of the front gate opening caught her attention. Stopping, she turned toward it as someone was coming inside, and Sasha was leaving for tower duty. She was running again, this time for the gate, skirting around Sasha as she tried to reach for her. Then she was outside the walls.
Someone was screaming her name, Sasha maybe. Or Daryl, maybe Denise had woken him up. That thought only made her run faster.
She ran until she couldn’t hear them calling her anymore. She ran down the street, around the corner and into a small cluster of homes. She had kept moving until nothing around her reminded her of Alexandria.
Only when every breath burned her lungs, did she finally stop. Allowing herself a single moment to close her eyes and catch her breath she stood unmoving. When the intake of air no longer set her lung on fire she opened her eyes again, taking a slow calculated inventory of her surroundings. Ahead of her was an apartment building low rise, three floors maybe. The rest of the street was scattered with old cars and garbage. Another apartment building stood to the left of the first, looted homes and shops filling up the rest of the space.
Everything around her was quiet, almost unsettling so. A few bodies lay around her but she paid them no mind. Turning to look back the way she came, she wiped the sweat soaked hair from her face. All she could see was the homes, the walls of Alexandria were nowhere in sight. Nothing around her reminded her of Alexandria nothing looking like the small cluster of buildings she had seen so many times on the other side of the walls. Hadn’t that been the point, though? To move until there was nothing familiar until nothing reminded her of reliving her trauma.
It was then her brain finally caught up with her. It’s only answer was a long scream of anger inside her head. What the fuck was she doing. She had run, saw an open gate and ran. Like a child thinking, she would outrun her monsters. Her fingers brushed across the knife at her belt, well at least she had that. Sinking down onto the ground, she let herself process for a moment. She had run, outside the walls where there were people, bad fucking people.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” She slammed her head down on her knees. She let herself slip into the blind panic for a moment, it would be easier once that was over with. No, something in her brain screamed, sitting in the middle of the street was not the place to freak out.
Ok, she thought, finally controlling her breathing, focus you can do this. All she had to do was turn around and go back. Right? She couldn’t have run for that long. Could she? The walls were huge, she would get close enough and then see the walls, and it would be fine.
Finally, she stood, brushing the dirt from the road off her jeans. Her hands had a light tremble, not that it was anything new. A hair tie rested on her wrist so she gathered the heavy strands of her hair and piled them on top of her head. Wouldn’t want it getting in her face, she needed to be able to see.
“Daryl is going to kill me.” She muttered, starting her walk back home. A groan drifted toward her. Great, of course, the dead would find her. “It’s fine I can do this.” She told herself. Reaching out, she gripped the knife in her hand keeping It out in front of her. It was not the first time she had killed one, it would not be the last. Something in her memory there was the sound of her Fathers voice, his slow patient instruction reminding her to always go for the brain.
The dead thing came stumbling toward her. Raising its head, it snapped its rotting teeth. It was a grotesque sight, to say the least, the skin of its torso was almost gone and whatever was left held small bits of branches. As she drew closer, her breath stuck inside her chest. On whatever skin was left on its forehead, a W was carved. She knew him, she had seen that face when he was alive.
Images threatened her, almost spilling over into the present moment. Images of him when he was alive, smiling eyes alight with madness. Gasping, she started to move backwards, hand fluttering to her throat. She almost turned to run, almost, but it would still be coming, it was still coming now.
The rage she had felt before burned through her again. Blood pounded in her head, rushing forward she plunged the knife into his skull. The body dropped down, hitting the floor with a hard thud. A steel toe boot came down on its head, she stomped and stomped until she saw bits of brain and bone. The anger was gone by then, slipping away once she had turned his head into paste.
Taking a breath, she wiped her hand across her face. Blood was now mixed with the tears she didn’t know she had been shedding. Her eyes travelled downward, her shirt and jeans were slightly splattered in blood. Her boots were the worst, covered almost completely in blood and brain matter. It didn’t matter, she told herself they were just things. No, they weren’t and she knew that. The good stuff was hard to come by these days. Here she was pounding in a skull for no reason other than her own rage.
As she cleaned her knife, the tears were coming again. At this point, she wasn’t even sure what she was crying about. Was it how stupid she was being or the shame of what she had done? It could be a many number of things her damaged brain was trying to focus on really, best not to attempt to discover the source of the tears rather let them run their course.
The breaths that she had been counting and controlling were now coming in short, quick gasps. Her heart pounded painfully in her chest, pain shooting outward into her chest. She was having a panic attack. Part of her could recognise that now. Pandora struggled to move again. To her right, there was an empty car. Shaking fingers yanked the handle open and her body tumbled inside, shutting the door.
Struggling to breathe, she gripped her arms tightly, nails biting into her skin. Rocking back and forth slightly, she rode the wave of panic. It wasn’t until the car door was ripped open that her vision cleared and she sprang back to the world.
Hands were on her, pulling her out of the car. Screaming and flaying, she pushed backwards, her head connected painfully with the side of the car door. Sparks flashed in her vision, blurring the face of whoever held her.
“Ah, bitch nuts.” A voice growled. Arms tightened around her. “Come on kid breathe, it’s me, it’s Abraham.”
Abraham? She thought. The sparks cleared and the world shifted back into focus. He was looking down at her, shock on his face. She tried to breathe deeper, but everything still seemed too much. With every breath, a sob joined it. After a few moments of trying to breathe, she was aware that he was speaking again. Not to her, she noted. She blinked past the tears, they were alone. When her eyes travelled down his arm she saw the walkie.
Her breathing was easier now Abraham’s presence easing the panic. He would take her back now, he had been outside the walls enough that it would take no time to get back there.
“You good kid?” he asked, watching her again.
She nodded slowly, still trembling, she gripped his arm tightly. He started walking slowly now, she tried to follow but everything seemed harder again. Her brain misfired and her legs tangled with each other. She felt herself being lifted, she stiffened against Abraham’s hold on her but didn’t move. She was tired again and walking seemed to take too much energy, thus the discomfort of physical contact took a back seat. The dread of facing Daryl and Denise made her feel even more tired.
“Ya found her?!” The voice on the walkie was alert but panicked, it made her flinch and bury her head into Abraham’s chest.
“I got her, heading back now.”
They walked for some time, only when she saw the new watch tower did she realise she couldn’t go inside, not yet.
“Abraham,” She whispered. “Can you put me down.”
He looked down at her then, eyebrows raised. “You gonna run off again?”
She shook her head as he watched her but decided to put her down gently. Her breath whooshed out of her.
“I can’t go back yet.” Her voice was hardly above a whisper but he heard it. “I can’t-can’t face him.” She was shaking her head now, hair flying wildly around her.
He sighed, scratching his beard, “I can’t leave you out here. If you don’t come I gotta take you.”
Understanding his meaning she nodded, walking to the gate herself. Fine, she would go. Staying out would probably only make him angrier anyway. Squaring her shoulders, she stepped through the now open gate, she could at least come back walking on her own two feet. Her walk back into the infirmary was slow, she tried to think about how she was going to explain this to Daryl.
As she got closer, a few of the residents of Alexandria gaped at her openly. Right, she was covered in blood. She found herself standing on the stairs looking at the shut door. Her hand found the railing to pull herself upward, when she reached the door she turned to wave at Abraham and mouth thank you.
The infirmary was mostly silent, Denise seemed to be gone and the only sound she heard was footsteps upstairs. Not normal footsteps, but the sound of someone pacing. When she reached the top of the steps she turned to her room, she knew that was where Daryl was going to be.
She reached out, turning the handle to open the door. She opened it only a crack to slip in. Her hands stayed on the knob hidden behind her back as she pushed the door shut.
The moment the door was shut; Daryl whirled on her, face bright red with anger.
“The hell were you thinking!” He roared, stepping into her personal space. “Ya just run! After everything ya seen outside the walls! Ya, take off! Ya didn’t even have a goddamn gun.”
Pandora flinched, turning her head to the side to avoid the hot anger of his voice. Her whole body tensed, she tried to push herself further into the door, but he closed the space between them standing impossibly close.
“What were yah thinking!” He was still dangerously close to her, shouting into the bubble of her personal space.
She gasped, hand flying out and palms pressing on his chest to try to push him away. “Daryl! Stop!” She shoved at him, fear raced through her tears pooling in her eyes. Images of fingers stroking her chin, hands sliding up her legs played on a loop in her brain.
As if he could see that, something changed in his face, his hands moved to his chest palms facing outwards as a sign of peace. Pandora sobbed, her hands pressing over her mouth to stop the sound. She was shaking, she had never seen him so angry before.
“Ahm sorry!” His hands were raised in front of him, stepping backwards to put a few feet between them.
Shaking her head, she turned away to face the door, her forehead pressing to the wood. Her hands were held into fists at her sides, nails biting into the soft flesh. Silence blanketed the room, neither of them knowing what to say.
He would never hurt her; she knew that after everything they had been through together. Seeing him like that brought back every memory she had worked so hard to cope with. Without a word, she headed for the bathroom, clicking the lock shut behind her.
Back pressed against the door, she slid down to the floor, drawing her knees to her chest. She could hear Daryl on the other side of the door as his boots shuffled against the carpet. She could almost picture him pressing his hand to the door. There was the sound of him trying to turn the handle, she had locked it for a reason. He would panic she knew, locking doors was something they agreed she wouldn’t do as it wasn’t safe. The feeling of shutting the door on him felt like she was shutting the door on all the memories that had surfaced.
A quiet moment was all she needed, just a moment to sort out everything in her brain. Behind her, the knob jiggled again. Once, then twice, before going still. The sound of heavy footsteps started moving away from the door.
Sighing, Pandora reached down; unlacing the boots she was wearing and pulling them off her feet. The smell was beginning to fill the bathroom. The idea of that smell ruining one of her favourite rooms caused her to stand and begin moving. First, she turned the water on in the tub and made sure it was scolding hot before she took a cloth to the boot to try to get the mess off. It took a while, but finally, they were clean and the only smell was the light scent of the body soap she had used to wash them.
“Now I smell.” She muttered to herself. Whatever she was wearing went right into the tub which she had again filled with warm water.
Next, she got into the shower, the warm water running over her felt as close to God as she was ever going to get. It released the tension in her muscles almost instantly. Between the shampoo and conditioner, she wondered if Daryl was still waiting in the room. Part of her wished he was, she was calm enough now that despite his outburst, she wanted to apologise.
Rinsing her hair one last time, she shut the water off and dried herself off. Only when she was standing naked in the bathroom did she remember all her clothes were outside from when she was packing her things to move. A moment without clothes allowed her to inspect her ever healing body.
Her fingers traced the pink scar on her right arm; she didn’t even remember how it happened. Higher on her right arm was the bullet wound from their time on the road. Her fingers traced it slightly, it was still tender and scabbed over but healing nicely. Denise did great work she had to admit, all the other scratches and bruising she had gotten in those days were slowly healing. Her skin was littered with small cuts and greenish yellow bruising, but everything seemed to be disappearing slowly.
Turning away, she wrapped the towel tightly around herself. The lock on the door clicked when she released it. Peeking her head out the door, she scanned the room. Perfect, it was empty. In a dash, she locked the bedroom door, no need to give anyone more of a scare.
Once dressed, everything felt more normal again, so normal that her stomach decided to remind her that she was hungry. With shaking hands, she pulled her wet hair into a messy bun on the top of her head, the weight of it feeling too much like hands around her neck.
Like a robot, she delivered instructions to herself. Walk to the door, open it, error, unlock it first, open it, go into the hallway, down the steps, into the kitchen, and open the fridge. When she opened the fridge, she brushed a note on the plate sitting in the fridge.
‘Pandora- Thought you might be hungry. At Ricks’
After everything that had happened, his first thought was still to care for her. It brought a sick feeling of guilt to her mouth. She should still be mad at him from before but she didn’t find that anger inside her. The words on the note sank in her gut, the random assortment of nuts, dried fruit and stale chips joined it, sinking like a stone to the bottom of her stomach.

Chapter 16: Forward

Notes:

Sunday bloody Sunday. Here we are again new chapter at hand! I am going to back catching up with the show soon, if anyone is a little ooc I do apologize no one is perfect.
Leave me some love!!

In her room, two ideas battled in her mind: go find Daryl to talk it through or go to bed. Her eyes drifted to the bed as it whispered promises of warmth and sleep. Sleep, that seemed to be all she did these days. She was perpetually tired these days. With the note still in her hand, she opened the top drawer of her night stand slipped it in. A bottle of pills caught her attention, so she reached out for it, turning it over in her hands.

Sleeping pills, they were the deciding factor. Dreams could not reach her through the haze of a drug-induced sleep. She takes two from the bottle, swallowing them dry. She put the bottle back where she found it, slipping off her pants, only leaving the oversized t-shirt on.

The covers were soft and cool once she slipped under them. A sigh escaped her; yes this was a better idea, better than facing whatever was waiting for her outside of this room. Blankets pulled up to her chin and legs tucked into her stomach, she let the pills drag her down into sleep.

Her dreams differed from they had been before. Where there was once terror, there was now a jumble of images from her time in Alexandria. Abraham on the guard tower asking her what she wanted but she didnt understand what he meant. The dream shifted then showing her and Daryl sitting on watch at night. She leaned her head on his shoulder creating a warm feeling in her chest. The images changed, and the wolves were inside the walls killing everyone. She didn’t run though and there was a knife in her hand now. Anyone that came towards her died until the bodies piled up around her like a wall and she stood unmoving covered in warm sticky blood. The dream Pandora laughed, fingers dipping into the gore that remained of her attackers and spreading it over her face.

Then she was being shaken awake, a faint voice calling to her.

“Pandora? Pandora?”

Her eyes were heavy, the fog of the drugs trying to keep her under but she forced them open. In the darkness, Daryl was sitting on her bed. In the faint light she tell his hair mussed from sleep. She wrapped her heavy limbs around his middle; eyes slipping closed again as she let her face rest against him. With her cheek against his side, she whispered the details of her dream. She swore she heard him laugh or as close as he came to laughing.

“Ok, ok back to sleep then.” He tried to untangle himself from her frame but she didn’t allow it.

“Stay, I’m sorry.” Refusing to let go, she allowed her fingers to wiggle hoping she would catch the blanket. His sigh vibrated through her, his fingers lifted the blanket with ease, slipping inside of it. She was conscious of his warmth against her tension slipping away. It was a tight fit, but as fucked up as it was she needed that closeness. Somewhere in her brain the wrongness of this should register, but her comfort was more important than what is deemed acceptable.

Before she slipped away again, she could feel him throw his arm over her and she pressed herself closer to his warmth before she drifted back to sleep. This time, no dreams found her.

Sunlight streamed over her, pushing past the cracks of her eye lids. Turning over, she tried to hide her face as her body collided with something solid and warm. A flush crept up her neck and face. That’s right; Daryl was in her bed because she had asked him to stay. The part of her that would have normally cared must still be sleeping because she pressed herself closer, using his chest to hide the sun from her eyes.

“Mornin'” His voice still laced with sleep made her jump. Shifting she threw an arm over her eyes, in an attempt to block out the sun. “Hi.” The word was a jumbled mess. Her mouth felt like she had stuffed it with cotton balls and they had sucked up all the moisture. She was heavy and out of sorts, it would be the last damn time she took those pills.

“Hungry?” Daryl asked, propping himself up on his elbow running his hand over his face.
She nodded, peering at him from under her arm. “I’m sorry.” She whispered, fingers tangling in the materiel of his shirt. This should be weird, she thought. They were laying in a tiny single bed together after they had fought. But, it wasn’t weird. She must be more fucked up then she thought.

“Hey,” his tone was sharp. “Ahm sorry, Ah would never hurt you.”

Pandora only nodded because she knew it was true. Wasn’t it clear she had forgiven him? They were in the same bed for Christ sake. She didn’t want to move right now as everything was fine, more than fine even. When she left this room that when everything would turn to shit.

“Come on,” Daryl was moving now, getting out of the bed. She reached her hand over the warm space he left behind. Repositioning her arm, she watched him pull on a t-shirt and sweat pants. A flush crept up her neck at the sight of him. More fucked up then I thought the voice in her head scolded her.

“Ahm make us something.” He was gone then, shutting the door behind him.

Hands scrubbed over her face. Again, the thought of leaving the sheltered pile of blankets on the bed was not appealing. She stayed where she was for a few long seconds, pulling the blankets over her head. She knew she would have to get up. Either on her own or Daryl would come drag her out of bed. That would be bad seeing as she wasn’t even wearing pants. Mumbling curses, she dragged herself from the bed. Pulling on a pair of leggings, she had grown to hate jeans as there wasn’t enough freedom of movement. Her eyes travelled down to her top, a big old t-shirt. She stripped it off, it caught a little on the wrapping still on her wrist but she paid it no mind. With a sports bra on, she tossed on a tank top and t-shirt over it with a light sweater, the end of the world was all about layering.

When she eventually stepped out into the hallway, other voices drifted up to her. Shutting her eyes, she listened. She could pick out Michonne, Rick and Daryl’s rasp was the last thing she heard. It took several deep breaths before she could command her legs to walk down the steps.
Once she was standing in the kitchen, Michonne was handing her a steaming bowl of oatmeal with pears sitting on top. The other woman didn’t speak, only nodded at Pandora in passing before moving down the hall to the room where the rest of the voices were coming from.

She could just take this bowl and go back to her room. That would be the best idea, all that human interaction didn’t seem like something she felt like doing besides there was the fact she was just terrible at it. In her hands her breakfast was cooling. With a sigh, she headed towards the room in the back.

Inside the barely lit bedroom, she stood at the door. The conversation died away and everyone turned to look at her. Her trembling hands tightened around the bowl, trying to stop her shaking. Daryl was beside her then, his hand on her lower back guiding her to the only empty chair in the room. She guessed that was where he had been sitting. Around her the conversation picked up again, with a spoon of oatmeal in her mouth she allowed her eyes the time to wander.

Carl was supported by a throne of pillows, his lower body covered by thick blankets. His eyes held a bright vacancy, she had come to in her own gaze from time to time. Rick was sitting at his son’s side, eating and talking in a low tone. Michonne sat in the corner of the room feeding a babbling Judith on her knee. Before she had come here, she was sure she would never see a baby again well, not a baby alive at least. But here was Judith, a bright and happy baby girl, a reminder of everything they fought for and the promise of what could happen behind these walls.

“You’re eating remember?” Daryl’s voice close in her ear, she flinched slightly but nodded. Glancing up at him, she took another spoonful and ate it, he held her gaze for a few moments. She discerned what he was asking before he even said anything, she held up two fingers. She felt fine; the everyday low level anxiety was there, but it always was. Being in a room with all these people made it seem louder, but she needed to do this for her own sake.

The bowl in her hands was empty before she even realized it. Daryl was taking if from her, placing it on the little table beside Carl’s bed. Something about that didn’t seem to sit right with her, to leave that dirty bowl in someone else’s space. Sometimes her mind went to places, and she was not sure how it got there, but right now it felt that her dirty bowl was invading his space.

Standing, she tucked her hair behind her ear and drifted around the room, collecting the dirty dishes. The image of her coming out of the bathroom after a panic attack to a clean room burned in her brain, seeing the organization in the room had helped calm the chaos raging inside her. She would do the same for him. When she reached around Rick to take his bowl he stopped talking and their eyes locked, he only nodded.

Preserving it as a good sign she left the room, put everything in the sink and washed it.
“Why are you doing that?” Michonne asked as she entered the kitchen, Judith bouncing in her arms smiling away. Pandora looked up only for a quick moment before she was glancing back down, her hair coming out from behind her ears to hide her eyes.

“Sometimes when things are organized, it helps me stay calm. I wanted to do the same for Carl.” She wasn’t sure any of that made sense to anyone but her. Watching the suds rinse off the bowl in her hand she almost forgot that there was another person in the room. When she looked up, Michonne was still there, holding the now silent Judith in her arms.

“Thank you.” Michonne said before she turned away taking Judith outside.
Pandora titled her head to the side slightly to watch her go. Thank you, hm. It was a phrase she hadn’t heard in a long time. The cool feeling on her fingers reminded her that the water was still on. Reaching out turning the tap off, but nothing happened. Still she stood, waiting, waiting for what? She didn’t even know. Head turned to the side, her eyes drifted to the pile of now clean dishes resting on the towel beside the sink. She should put them away she thought if she had any idea where everything went.

“Pandora?” She turned, eyes focusing again.

“Sorry,” She whispered. “I was cleaning the dishes.”

Daryl had an odd expression on his face she couldn’t quite place in a category of emotions. He was standing in front of her, arms crossed over his chest peering at her.

“Are we leaving?” We, she couldn’t help but notice she was not sure where he ended and she began.

“Do you want to leave?” He asked, raising his eyebrow at her.

For a moment she was not sure what to say, did she want to leave? What did she want? Was she even in a place to decide what she really wanted? The questions overwhelmed her but the feeling of Daryl’s hand on her arm forced her to stop.

“I want to stay.” She answered. Eyes pulling up to meet his gaze again, she wanted to stay to feel like she was a part of something and not just someone passes through

He nodded, taking her elbow and leading her back into the room. She settled back into the chair she had left a few moments ago. Daryl stood behind her, leaning on the back of the chair.

Rick eyes them, holding her gaze for a few long heart beats before turning his eyes on Daryl.
“We should go out soon, look for supplies and for people.”

Under her the chair groaned as Daryl shifts his weight. She didn’t turn to look at him, eyes fixed on Carl. The boy in the bed blinked, he still had the same faraway stare she had seen in her own eyes too many times in the mirror. She reached for him laying her hand on top of his own. Turning he looked at her, in his gaze he seemed more present. She tried to smile, tried to speak the message that whatever was going on inside his head was all right.

Maybe some of her silent words reached him because he smiled at her and tightened his grip around her fingers. Then he started to blink eyes looking heavy, his head slip to the side. Standing, she cupped the side of his head his touch light as she laid him down against the pillows. He opened his eyes again slowly the moment she lay his head down, but she only pressed her fingers to her lips, the other hand pulling the blankets over him.

Around her, she hadn’t noticed that both Rick and Daryl were studying her. A hot flush swept up her neck and cheeks and she opened her mouth in an attempt to form words but in that moment her ability to speak seemed to escape her. Rick raised his hand to silence her, putting an end to her struggle.

“It’s ok, thank you.” Rick was whispering now, fearing to wake his sleeping son.

There was something in the expression on his face, something almost broken. Pandora had to turn away, unable to process that with the man she knew Rick was. Behind her, she felt Daryl shift. Head backward to look at him, their eyes locked and he nodded.

She stepped out of the room with Daryl at her heels. Once in the small hallway, she closed the door softly behind her. Shifting to the side, she found Daryl standing against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. She was turning now, standing at the bottom of the stairs.

“Before everything…” She waved her hand in the air letting the rest of the sentence fall away. “I was packing my stuff to move into your new place. If you still want me to. If not, that’s fine too. I could ask someone else” she was babbling, words slipping out of her mouth quicker than she could catch them.

When she looked up at him, the edge of his mouth turned up in a slight smile. That was a smile, she was almost sure of it, but it was hard to tell with him. The master of the scowl.

“Com’on then before tower duty.” He was moving up the steps ahead of her now, not turning to see if she was coming.

She was coming; it was her idea after all. The moment she was in the room and she saw him place her neatly folded pile of clothes into laundry baskets doubt curled inside of her stomach. This room had been the only place she had felt safe for a long time.

Her fingers curled against the door handle as she closed it behind her. The steady thrum of panic she usually felt rose like a wave to greet her.

‘It’s not like your leaving the walls.’ She told herself. Nodding to herself, she counted each breath as she moved around the room to help Daryl with her things.

“Pandora?” The sound of her of name and the concern on the edge of Daryl’s voice made her jump, the bottle of lotion she was holding went tumbling to the floor.

When she turned, Daryl was looking at her with the bottle already in his hand. Sometimes that happened, sometimes her body moved too slow and the surrounding time moved too quick, she missed things.

“You don’t have to do this.” Daryl muttered caution in her tone. There he was again, all-knowing, somehow always knowing what was going on in her head.

“No,” She said with a sharp shake of her head, “I want to do this. I’m tired of feeling like a patient or a visitor, I want—” The words died on her lips because she wasn’t really sure what she wanted or didn’t know how to explain it to him. Part of her was terrified of leaving this room yet part of her was ready. She needed to return to some kind of normal.

“Ya want a place, a place that is just yours.”

Pandora nodded, feeling the tears pooling in her vision. What was she even crying about? Angry with herself, she rubbed at her eyes, “Come on, I want to see my room.”

Daryl chuckled at that, putting adding the lotion to all her other bathroom stuff. “I ain’t done shit to the place. Just moved in”

Throwing the last of her clothes from the dresser into the basket before lifting it she said “Well then Mr. Dixon, I guess we are going to have to decorate.”

Chapter 17: Control

Notes:

Hello! I am day late this week. *gasp* I also didn't post last week sorry! I hope you guys watched last nights episode! It was so good! Well here is my next chapter, enjoy!

Chapter 17

“Before you came here where were you?” Denise leaned back in her chair, pen posed for notes.

Pandora sat on the sofa across from her with her legs crossed and the heavy knitted blanket over her shoulders. The pressure around her shoulders and back felt like a hug. It kept her focused and reminded her where she was as they talked. Daryl slipped it over her when he left for a run with Rick, telling her he would be back.

“Before it all happened, my family was in our RV. We drove from California to Washington so I could compete in a competition there.” She remembered the hushed whispers of conversation between everyone in the arena. People were whispering of a sickness, people dying and hospitals closing. “When the final day of competing ended we all sat in the RV and my parents talked about what to do. My Dad used to be in the army, he had contacts that were still active. They told him to stay away from populated areas.”

She licked her lips, trying to follow the train of thought without getting pulled under by the memories. When her gaze flicked up to Denise, she could see the woman about to open her mouth. Beating her to the punch, Pandora held up three fingers.  The last few days had been alright, good even. After her outburst, it had been hard for Daryl and Abraham to let her out of their sight. After a few days of proving she was of sound mind and body, and extra therapy at Daryl’s request, she had been allowed more time to herself.

Aaron came through on his promise to come and visit her, bringing food and some new books. They spent the time on the front porch of her townhouse as he had complained about wasting the day inside but she guessed he had other reasons.  Getting out of the house was still a challenge. She mostly went out in the early morning and evening, when she had the street mostly to herself.

“Pandora?” Denise’s voice brought her back into the room. Pandora tightened the blanket around her, balling it up so more of it was resting on her shoulders, causing a heavier pressure.

"My family had a cottage near Bombay Hook, the Wildlife Refuge. We went to the store to pick up things we thought we would need and headed towards the cottage. We- uh- we didn’t make it.”

She pictured the sight of the blocked roads and military personal redirecting them, it was so clear that she was almost sure she was there. A shrug of her shoulders allowed her to feel the pressure, reminding her of where she was. It was an anchor pulling her down to the present, keeping her from drifting away as she often did.

“The army redirected us to an apartment building that they were holding but once we got there they never came back. We stayed there for a long time, a month maybe? It’s hard to remember. One day, a whole herd of the dead came through. They took out the fences and the windows on the lower levels. We ran. My Dad he…” She paused, struggling to find the right words. “We were all my Dad ever had, my Mom, my sister and I. He made sure we got out; everyone else was by themselves. Some of them found us after since we set a meeting place if that ever happened to the apartment building. We were on the road for a while.”

The sentence died off there, falling away as the memory played in her mind like a movie. The road had been the hardest, never feeling safe, no idea of where they were going. They had learned the heard lessons then on the road. They learned that people were the enemy now too. She killed her first man on the road, he tried to steal from them. It had cemented the us vs them her Father had been trying to teach them. It's you first, it's always you first.

“Did you stay on the road for long?” Denise was there again. Right, she was here in the room, not out there. Not with her Dad pointing a gun at the dead coming towards her, trying to get them in the head.

“Um,” Pandora struggled to find the word, struggled to keep her calm. Her hands coil into fists before she has time to stop them. Her nails bite into the soft skin of her palms; the pain is sharp and draws her attention back into the room. What did Denise just ask? Her mind was fighting against her, becoming slow again and struggling to keep up with the world around her.

“What number are you on?”

That reaches her somehow, that question always finds its way through her brain fog. It's painful to uncurl her hands but she can hold up four. She is not sure what is triggering her this time, maybe it was the thought of being on the road or the movie playing in her brain that wouldn't shut off. Air tightens in her lungs and her fingers are flying up to her chest as if it would help her breathe better. There is no room around her anymore, she isn’t here she isn't anywhere.

“Pandora, take a deep breath and listen to my voice.”
The doctor's voice brings her face back into focus.

“Start at your toes.”

That’s right, her toes. With her eyes shut, she tries to block out the images of the road. Her toes curl in her socks once she tightens the muscles and relaxes them a few times. She continued the process up her body. By the time she had gone through her whole body she felt the calm settling over her, her breathing coming slower and more controlled.

When she opened her eyes again Denise was sitting back in her chair with her arms crossed over her chest. The smile on her face filled Pandora’s chest with warmth.

“I did it.” Pandora said. Denise was nodding with the smile still in her lips.

“Do you know what triggered it?” Denise asked. Now that her mind was clear of the panic again, she could go back and look at the moments before.

“The road, that feeling of not being safe or having anywhere to go.” Even speaking the words out loud now she could taste the slight tinge of panic.

“But you know you have a place now, and you’re safe, right?” Denise started writing in the notebook again. The rest of the session moved along without the appearance of another panic attack, to which she was grateful. The session lasted only a little longer after that. She made it to the part in her story before the wolves took her. She couldn’t go past that, not today, she was too tired now.
When it was over, she found herself sitting in the guard tower at the gate. She sat facing the road. Rosita was on duty, not that it mattered since she would have been up here no matter who was keeping watch. Pandora didn’t speak, eyes fixed on the furthest point she could see.

“They will be back before dark, that’s what he said right?”

“Ya” The word came out sharper then she intended it to. With her eyes shut, she counted down from ten before she opened them again. “Sorry.” The runs always made her nervous, she knew what the world was like on the other side of the wall, and it was not pretty.
“Rosita?” A longer silence filled the space between them then. It had given her mind a chance to work through the tangled cluster of thoughts. Somewhere in that tangle of information, she found the question she wanted to ask the other woman. “Will you teach me how to fight?"

The only sound she heard was Rosita sputtering and coughing, something that sounded almost like a laugh.

“Fuck no.”

“What?” Her tone was sharp again because the rejection stung. She had thought this would be a great idea; both Daryl and Abraham would be more comfortable if they knew she was learning to take of herself. Wasn’t that what they were always worried about, making sure she was safe? This way she could keep herself safe instead.

“No way am I doing something like that before I ask Daryl.”  

A soft sigh escaped Pandora’s lips as she rolled her head in a circle, the joints of her neck cracked. She felt like the child of overbearing parents. Yes, her decision-making skills have not exactly been up to par for the last little while, but she had gone above and beyond since then to prove herself. She had worked twice as hard to bounce back from her misadventures on the other side of the walls.  

“Just let him know, we can start tomorrow morning.” Rosita said suddenly.

A wide grin broke over Pandora’s face as she leant her head backwards to grin at the other woman upside down. Rosita was smiling too, a small one, hidden inside one of her trademark scowls.

More time passed between them in silence as around them the darkness grew and settled over the homes. Still, Pandora watched and watched. He was coming back, that she knew for sure. It was just a matter of when he was coming back. She would be here, she would wait, then the moment she saw the car she would open the gates. Thinking about the gates made her think about being outside of them.
Tomorrow part of her therapy would be to walk ten steps outside of the gate. She had to prove she could do it, to face her fear as Denise put it. That would be better once she knew how to protect herself. She decided once Rosita taught her, she wouldn’t be frightened to go outside anymore.

  “Pandora?” The tone is Rosita’s voice was something she had become used to hearing. It was the tone everyone seemed to use if they had to say her name more than once. To be fair, if they didn’t touch her before speaking to her, she was bound not to hear them.

“Sorry?” The word was said as a question even though she was sure Rosita already knew Pandora hadn’t heard a word of what the other woman said.

“I said my shift is over, do you want me to take you home?”

Home. The word knocked around in her brain. Home was something she had here now. Home was a townhouse at the end of the row, with a big worn out sofa in the living room, and a room that was just her own. It was too quiet there when she was alone.

“No, I want to wait.”

The other woman's sigh seemed to be all around her in the night, but she didn’t argue. Pandora was about to say something, her slow moving brain was trying to put together a sentence. Then something flickered down the road, she was standing now with Rosita somewhere behind her. She said something Pandora didn’t quite catch, it didn’t matter though as her hands were gripping the railing, and she was hoisting herself up on it. Then she was walking on top of the wall, she could see the car heading towards them.

“It’s them.” A breath she didn’t know she was holding rushed out of her along with those words. Not even checking to see if Rosita had heard her, Pandora was scaling down the metal frame of the wall. She stepped in front of whoever was on gate duty and opened the gate to let them in.

The car crept past her, both windows down. Daryl was leaning out the passenger side, he only nodded at her. She nodded back, not a word was needed between them most of the time. With the gate shut, she followed the car to the storage house. Once they were both outside, she found herself beside them taking boxes of goods inside to be sorted in the morning.

With the car empty, Rick turned ready to head back home. He walked past them with a gruff “Night” directed to them both and a light touch on Pandora’s shoulder.

She didn’t flinch and schooled her expression to one of blankness. It was another part of her therapy, accepting touch. Well, touch from anyone who wasn’t in her inner circle. That meant people she hardly knew around town had been placing light touches on her for the last few days. The touch that landed on her shoulder now was one she was all too comfortable with.

Daryl stood behind her, arms covered in dirt, hair plastered to his face with sweat. He began easing her forward towards their shared house.

“What’s that?” She asked pointing to the black bag on his back.

At first he made some noncommittal noise and shrugged, then he muttered “Stuff.”

“Never would have guessed,” She shot back, turning the handle to head inside. “You better get in that shower Dixon, you look gross.”

“Yes ma’am.” Was the reply that drifted down over the sound of his heavy boots heading up the stairs.

In the living room the sofa called her name. It whispered the promise of soft cushions and warm, oversized blankets. Her feet found themselves moving there. The heavy knit blanket was there, draped over the sofa. Had she left it behind? That seemed troubling to her, she couldn’t remember what had happened between therapy and waiting at the tower. There was an entire day between those two events but her mind was empty. A chunk of missing time was something that would usually send her spiralling down into a panic, so she shut it away. 

She used the technique Denise had taught her. She imagined worrying about lost time as a scene in the movie which she paused before locking away it away. She eased down on the sofa and brought the blanket back over her shoulders, the heavy weight on her frame allowed the tension to release. She eased back and sunk into the cushions, letting her eyes fall closed.  Before she knew it Daryl was beside her, pushing a bowl of steaming soup into her hands.

“Ahm guessing you ain't been eating.” He commented, spooning soup into his mouth.

“Not true,” She answered, taking a spoonful. “I had breakfast with Denise before therapy.” Her tone was smug and without thinking, she turned to the side and stuck her tongue out at him. Something flickered in his face, an emotion she wasn’t quite able to catch before it disappeared, but the edge of his lip turned up in a very Daryl Dixon smile. Or what you could call a smile when talking about Daryl.

Silence settled over them while they ate and when she was finished she collected both of their dishes to put them in the sink. When she turned to get the pot from the stove, Daryl was already handing it to her.

She sighed, “I’m in the house, what could happen?” Some days the hovering was stifling, like the air on a hot summer day pressing down around her. Sometimes she loved him for it, loved the constant presence and the calm he seemed to bring to her usual chaos. On a good day like today though, she felt like she was being smothered. He didn’t answer her though, only turned and headed back towards the living room.

When she finished, she headed out to join him, not quite ready to be alone just yet. She found him sitting on the sofa, legs outstretched on the table in front of him, an open book in his hands. Settling down beside him, she pulled the heavy knitted blanket over her legs and closed the gap until she was pressed against his side. He stiffened, but only a fraction. Trying to hide it, he shut the book, leaning over to pull the bag he had before off the floor.

“Here, got ya some stuff while we were out there.”

He placed the bag in her lap, watching her from the corner of his eye.

A grin spread over her face, her fingers couldn’t seem to move fast enough as she pulled the zipper open. Inside was an assortment of random objects. The first thing her fingers found must be one of the biggest. She pulled out a heavy book of poetry, recent works or as recent as things get these days. In her chest, something is tight, her heart maybe? Her Dad used to read poems to her growing up; for a jarhead, he had the soul of an artist. Setting the book in her lap, her fingers ran over the cover letting her mind read the words a few times before moving to pull the next thing from the bag. Another book, despite the title she finds a small laugh bubbling up from her chest. In her hands, she is holding “The Rape Recovery Handbook.” She wasn't upset or offended, in fact, she is feeling quite proud. If Daryl didn’t think she was getting stronger every day, he would not have risked a book like this. Her fingers brushed the cover of this book too; “Rape Recovery” was what she was going through right now.

Her body pressed tighter against him now, the warm feeling blooming inside her chest. “Thank you.” The words were hardly above a whisper, but she knows he can hear her.

“There's more,” Daryl is reaching over her now, his hand disappearing inside the black bag. When he pulls it out, he is holding a gold chain securely in his palm.

“It made me think of your gold medal.”

Her fingers brushed the metal in his hand for a moment and they lingered there, enjoying the warmth of his skin. Then, with slow moving fingers she lifted the necklace from his hand, it was still warm. It reminded her of the gold medal too, lighter, but the way the dim light bounced off it, made her picture her old medal. She could feel the way that it hung heavy on her chest, thick ribbon band around her neck. Unclipping the clasp at the back, she handed it to Daryl without a word. He moved to drop it over her head, closing the clasp.

The metal felt cool against her skin as the heat it had absorbed from Daryl’s hand had all seeped out. When she moved to touch where it hung on her neck her fingers came away damp. It was then she realised that she was crying. How long she had been crying, she was not sure, but then she felt a heavy warm hand on her shoulder. Her gaze drifted up slowly to meet the eyes of Daryl looking down at her, letting her breath out, she sagged against him. The tears had stopped now so they both lay tucked into each other on the small sofa.

“Thank you,” She whispered, face hidden against his shoulder.

She was answered with a hum that vibrated in her chest.

“Thank you for everything, for now and from before.” He only hummed again and stood up; he held a hand out to pull her up as well, “Come’on now.” He whispered, bringing her up the steps and into the hall. For a heartbeat, Daryl stood in the hall, half torn between his room and her room. Deciding on her room, he turned to pull her inside.  

Pandora sighed, running her hands over her face as she moved towards the bed. He was right behind her, doing what? She wasn't sure as she didn’t want to turn to look. Peeling off the layers of clothes, she changed into loose fitting shorts and a tank top. There was no shame in changing in front of him; he had seen her naked more times than she even knew.
 
When she turned around, Daryl had already pulled the blankets off the bed so she could slip inside. The sheets were cool against her skin, refreshing even. He sat beside her over the blankets, back resting on the head board and arms folded over his chest.

"How was your run?" She asked, turning to face him with one arm tucked under her pillow.

He began to tell her how the day had panned out, what they had found and what they hadn't. Somewhere in his retelling of the day’s events, she found herself drifting off into sleep.  

Chapter 18: Stronger

Notes:

Yay here I am again with a new chapter! I'm really loving writing this. Recovery is never a straight an narrow path that's important to understand with Pandora's story. As always please let me know what you think!

Pre-dawn light found Pandora on the front porch with one of Daryl’s cigarettes between her lips. Her brain decided that she ought to be up before the sun had risen. She tried to count how many hours she'd slept. The small number pissed her off too much though, so she stopped, resigning herself to the fact she may need to nap later. It wasn’t like she needed to do anything around here. The sun peaked over the sky and the darkness became less and less. The surrounding stillness was making her nervous, the quick drumming of her fingers against her leg seemed out of place. Turning, she moved to make her way to a tower that had the best view of the sunrise. This wasn’t the first time she was awake before the sun. What was the point of being awake at this horrible hour if she didn’t take the time to enjoy the sunrise? The cigarette was already finished when she made it to the wall. Not bothering with the guard tower itself, she climbed the wall. Muscles in her arms and legs screamed in protest as she climbed, but it pumped adrenaline through her and that made it worthwhile. Once at the top, she balanced on the small beam that was there. She stood there observing the brightness of the morning sun filling the sky.

“New day,” she thought to herself. “It will be a good fucking day.” Positive affirmations were the key to happiness, or so her therapist told her daily. It had been hard at first to talk to Denise again once she had found out what had happened. Denise had tried to help one of the hurt wolves who came to take this place, Morgan had asked her to help him. Carol had found him, they fought, he escaped with Denise as a hostage, in the end Carol had killed him. There was a part of her that had been trying to get the other women alone trying to say thank you where no one else would overhear, but there was always something. At first when Daryl told her then had been nothing but white hot anger. But Denise was a doctor not just her doctor but a doctor for everyone, they took an oath to protect all life. Denise hadn’t known either, how could she knew who that man was. She never talked about their faces, no one would know he had been the one to take her that day the one who had started everything.

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” a voice from the ground asked her. With a fleeting look behind her, she spotted Abraham on the ground with a cigar in his mouth and rifle slung over his shoulder.

“Sleep is for the mentally stable.” Pandora shot back, moving to lower herself to the ground. When there was two feet between her the ground, she jumped. She touched down on the ground with her feet together and arms out to the side, her body a flawless straight line. A grin found its way to her lips, “I still got it.”
He only scoffed and rolled his eyes. He was one of the few people who appreciated that she could joke about how fucked up she was. Humor helped her deal, can't cry every day.

“Come on kid, let me walk you home.”

He was already moving though, just expecting her to follow. Which she did, but that was not the point.

“I asked Rosita to teach me how to protect myself.” She blurted as they walked.

“Thought you could shoot?”

“I can, but who would give me a gun?” Someone waved at them as they passed so Abraham returned the gesture. “I need hand to hand training.”

“Not a bad idea kid.”

“I have those sometimes.”

He snorted a laugh and patted her on the back. “See you later, kid.”

Right, she blinked, this was her front door. With a slight wiggle of her fingers, she turned to head up the steps.

Daryl was already moving around in the kitchen completely dressed when she stepped inside, door clicking shut behind her. He turned around with two steaming bowls of oatmeal in his hands, the top held this sprinkled trail mix. Gliding towards him, she took the bowl he offered. It was tasty despite being mildly stale.

“Sleep?” Daryl questioned, spoon dipping back into the bowl.

Pandora only shrugged, “Enough I guess.” She answered, shoving more food into her mouth. She wanted to spill out everything, tell him right there and then that she would learn to fight wither he wanted her to or not. Something about the way he was looking at her, however, made her insides tight.

“I talked to Rosita today,” She said, lips curling around the spoon to lick it clean. “I asked her to teach me how to protect myself.”

“Ya sure about that?” he questioned, eyeing her cooly.

“I need to know how to protect myself, it will help.” Help with not feeling so helpless, so weak. That part would be left unsaid.

“Yah asking me?” He raised an eyebrow at her, half of his lip turned up modestly in a kind of smile.

“Maybe.” She mumbled, taking the now empty bowl from him and putting it in the sink.

Turning the water on, the warmth of it seeping into her bones. She was always cold these days, a deep chill in her bones to keep her company.

“Sure. If it’ll help, anything.” Inside her chest her heart did a thing, tripping and jumping all over itself.

Moving away from the sink, she dried her hands and towards him casually. Arms snaked around his middle and against her he stiffened, but didn’t move. She didn’t give in though, she knew in a moment she would feel him loosen against her. Ah, there.

“Thank you.” His silence stretched over them, filling the small kitchen.

When she stepped back he appeared taken aback, face knotted in confusion. She started to put more distance between them because he was moving towards the door.

“ Heading out with Rick again,” He's not looking at her though, he is pulling the strap of his bag over his shoulder and running his fingers through his hair. “Be back later tonight. Wait up?”

She is standing wordlessly, arms folding over her abruptly cold mid-section. There is a catch in his voice at the end as if he is not sure if she would, in fact, wait up. “Sure.”

Then he's gone, and she's left standing in the now silent house. The silence that hung around the surrounding space clawed at her skin, she moved again. Out of the house, down the steps. To her left, Daryl stood with Denise beside the car they were taking, a paper passed between their hands. Pandora turned away, leaving him to go as there was no need to say goodbye again. Goodbyes made her kind of sick these days, anyway.

She had eyes only for Rosita, it was time to get started. Pandora stood on the front porch of the house research shared with Abraham and Eugine. What was the polite thing to do? She stopped, fingers drumming on her chin. Right, knock. Someone may be sleeping, Abraham may be sleeping. He did just work, didn’t he? She had just seen him, that was today, wasn’t it? She was fuzzy again, but she knocked almost silently. A voice called out to her from inside telling her to come in. She did then, turning the handle and shutting the door behind her with a click.

Rosita stood in the kitchen at the frying pan.

“Eggs?” She asked, looking over her shoulder. Pandora sniffed the air and drifted towards the other woman at the stove.

“Please.” She whispered gathering a plate from the cupboard. She had just eaten a moment ago, but who would be capable of turning down eggs? It took a few tries to find the right drawer, but she did and took out enough for everyone. She heard movement upstairs, two sets of foot steps.

“Didn’t I already take you home?” Abraham slid onto the stool at the island, Pandora sliding down next to him.

“Ya but I wandered off, that happens sometimes.” Pandora only shrugged, Rosita slid some of the eggs on her plate before serving Abraham. She watched as Rosita made up the rest of her plate, with some beans and hash.

Rosita made up her own plate and took her position, standing on the other side of the island leaning on her elbows as she ate.
“Eat it all up kids, eggs are scarce these days.”

The comment was double edged. Sure the eggs were scarce, but Pandora also had a habit of drifting away for an entire day and not eating. Her eyes wandered back down to the plate in front of her, her serving was small, for that she was grateful. Minutes passed in silence as they ate together but eventually she broke it, “I talked to Daryl this morning he is ok with you teaching me.”

Rosita smiled at her from across the island, a dark glint in her eyes, “Well, then we start as soon as you're finished.”

“Im gonna hit the hay, you ladies have fun.”

As he left, Eugine was stepping into the kitchen taking the now empty plates and washing them without asking. Finishing her last few bites off her plate, she placed it on the dirty pile, “Thank you.”

“Not a problem. I overheard that your training starts today, good luck.”

She would need all the luck she could get.

The found a sunny spot of grass just behind the soar panels, away from the busy day-to-day activities of Alexandria. This way no one could see them. While Pandora didn’t think it mattered right now when Rosita kicked her ass she might be more grateful for it.

They sparred until the sun was hanging high in the sky and they both lay in the grass covered in sweat and panting. Pandora was consumed by the sort of tired she hadn't felt since her misadventures on the other side of the wall. It was a good tired, however, the kind of tired that proved that you did work. Muscles that went unused for years screamed at her in protest to being treated so violently, she ignored them, instead basking in the speed of her racing heart. There were a few hiccups sure, like when Rosita managed to get her on her back and hold her down. When they stopped, she had time to chase away the panic attack that threatened to ruin their day. Rosita never stopped the lesson though, she let herself calm down and then they were right back at it. No one else will stop attacking you because you're having a panic attack! The phrase had been repeated a few times throughout their session.

“You didn’t do half bad,” Rosita commented, turning her head to glance at her. The other woman's eyes were hidden by sweat covered strands of hair.

“I was a gymnast before, went to the Olympics and everything. I guess some things never leave you.” She stretched her arms out in front of her and savoured the tightness. “Tomorrow?”

Rosita only flashed her a grin, wide and full of teeth. Pandora laughed.

“Ask me that again when you get up in the morning.” Rosita was already standing though, stretching out her limbs and brushing the dirt from her pants. “Im gonna head home, you ok?”

“Ya,” Pandora muttered, tilting her chin up to get more sun. “I think I’ll stay here for a while.”

The other woman was gone then, the sound of her steps fading away. She ran through the day's lesson in her head, trying to commit every small bit of detail to memory. She would do more of these lessons every day until no one could lay an unwanted hand on her again. Drifting around her were the sounds of Alexandria: people walking, talking, doors opening and closing.

She closed her eyes letting the tension burn away by the light of the sun. She must have fallen asleep in that time because there was a hand on her shoulder and she was screaming.

“Pandora! Pandora! It’s ok, it’s just me! It’s Denise.”

It was just Denise she realized when she calmed down enough to look.

“Fuck. Mentally unstable, remember?” Shaking hands pulled the hair from her face while she sat up. Everything ached, even her fingers. How her fingers ached she would not ask.

“Did you forget?” Denise asked sitting beside her now, legs crossed.

“Forget?” Confusion burned in her brain.

“About your session today?” Denise asked.

Right, therapy every day, the new deal she agreed to since she had gone beyond the walls a while back.

“Can we skip today Doc?” The was a hopefulness in her question, but the moment she glanced at Denise’s face the answer was clear.

“Listen,” The woman's features softened a fraction. “You do the exercise we planned, ten steps outside the gate and then we're finished.”
Alright ten steps outside, no problem. She had been out there before, twice in fact. She was standing now, fear coiling in her gut, but she pushed it down.
They walked together in silence, she hadn't even noticed she had reached the gate until she walked right into it. Denise was beside her then, turning to Spencer at the guard tower. Dimly, Pandora could hear her explaining what they were doing there, working through her fear, blah blah blah. She wasn’t sure this would help, but it got Daryl off her back, got Abraham off her back and would get her the rest of the day off.

Holly was standing beside her now, pushing the gate open, “Ill be right here ok? Holding it open for you.”

Pandora only managed a weak smile before she moved. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten. At ten she stopped to force her eyes to focus and drink in every detail she could. If anything happened again, she would recognize how to get back here, she would remember what everything looked like down to the last tree. When she thought the image was painted in her head she turned back, letting her feet carry her back behind the shield of the walls.

Denise was there now, hands on her shoulder pulling her into a quick, tight hug, she didn’t even have time to panic as it was over so quickly.
“You did great! Come on let’s eat something.” Denise was leading her back now to the medical house she shared with Tara next to the medical building.
She didn’t even have to ask as she realized where they were heading. Best to keep an eye on her anyway, she thought. When she was alone for too long she did things, stupid things like lay in the sun for hours and forget to eat.

“Have a shower then come down for dinner.”

Pandora blinked, shit, they had already gone inside as she was being pushed towards the steps.

The rest of the evening was nice. Tara had gotten Pandora knit blanket from her house and wrapped it around her as they sat in the living room. Being friends with your Doctor had its perks, Denise and Tara knew exactly how to handle her. And by handling her, Pandora could sit in the corner, knees to her chest, drifting in and out of a conversation she was never actually a part of.

When the sun eventually set, an itch settled into her bones, she was normally watching for him by now. Perched on the watchtower with whoever else was there, waiting for the headlights on the darkened road.

“Pandora?” God damn it, she hated that tone.

But she smiled and mumbled a sorry under her breath, eyes on Tara.

Tara only smiled though handing her an extra blanket and nodding. “Probably a good time to head out there, anyway.”

Pandora smiled, uncurling herself from the sofa and moving toward the door. “Thank you for everything, good night.”

The walk to the guard tower was quick, it became colder without the heat from the sun but nothing too unbearable. The platform was clear, whoever should have been up here was not. Leaning over the railing, she spotted someone down by the gate. When the guy turned to look up at her, she only waved. She received a nod in return, words and strangers didn’t mix.

Her normal place when she was here was right at the front, leaning against the front railing where she was able see clearly. It was dark, but the passage of time was something that was still a struggle for her.

So when the headlights appeared in the distance there was no way to be sure how long she had been watching for. The pain that Rosita promised crept up on her while she stood unmoving. The trip down the ladder was not as easy as it was the night before. By the time she made it to where they left the car, it was empty.

Arms wrapped tightly around her middle, she followed the sounds. She found Daryl and Rick at Denise's door, a limp body held between them.
“Daryl?”

His head snapped back eyes meeting hers, “Don’t move.”

Although her blood boiled at the command, she did as she was told and didn’t move from her spot outside the medical building. Panic rushed through her, they found a man. What kind of man, they can't just bring people from outside. This was her home, their home, you can't just come in here.
A pounding started to appear behind her eyes, a tightness coiling inside her gut. A deep panic that seems to root itself in her bones. She would follow she decided, whatever they knew she would know too. She wouldn’t allow herself to be in the dark.

When Daryl and Rick came back out she was trailing behind them. Daryl meets her eyes, her gaze cool, daring him to question her presence. He dosesn't though, only keeps hauling the unconscious man towards the basement cell. When they get to the door, Rick gives her a pointed glance, and she stays put again panic making her sharp and focused.

Time time seems to tick by, and every moment they don’t come out she panics more. She is stepping inside before she can stop herself, hissing out a breath when she bumps into Rick.

He puts his hands on her shoulders to stop her from falling but she pushes them away shaking. “You are taking forever.” She hisses stepping around him to steal a glance at the man. A hand on her upper arm stops her from stepping forward, but she leans around him.

The man on the floor was young-ish, older than she was, but younger than Daryl maybe. The lower half of his face was covered in a thick, well-trimmed beard, his hair clean and most of his frame was covered by a long trench coat. They had bound his hands and feet, a plate of Carols cookies sat near his head.

“Hey! He gets cookies.” She tried to make light, tried to ease the panic gripping her chest at the sight of a man who should not be there.
The firm hand on her arm was back again, this time she let him pull until they are standing at the front door of the basement cell. They spoke in causal voices, but she didn’t understand them. They are only words floating around in her brain.

“Pandora?” It was that tone again, the one everyone used when they had to call her name more than once. Where had she even gone this time? Daryl’s face was suddenly square in her field of vision. Startled, her hands flew up to touch his shoulders.

“Sorry,” She whispered, fingers sliding over the leather vest he wore. “What?”

“Ah gotta stay till someone else comes.” He was lowering his body, sitting on the floor, back resting on the wall.

She tilted her head to the side. He always said I, like there was still just an I. Like everything she had worked so hard to gain wasn’t tied to him. It was we now, she thought mildly, it would always be we. She was sinking down beside him now, body pressed tight against his side to leech some of the warmth he always radiated.

“Tell me?”

And he did.

Notes:

*sigh* I always imagine Daryl feeling warm all the time lol!

Chapter 19: Stranger

Notes:

Hey! Almost didn't make it to post this tonight, just got back from seeing Logan. Seriously everyone go watch that movie, it was legit so amazing! Anyway watching the new episode of TWD right now as I type so far so far. Can't wait until I finally catch up with the show, as the pace I'm moving though it wont be any time soon lol! This chapter is a bit of filler so bear with me!

“Well” She huffed, head tilting back to stare up at the stars above them “That was quite the adventure.”

He scoffed, rolling his eyes, “Damn pain in my ass was what it was.”

“Hey.”

A man she didn’t know stood on the other side of the railing looking at them. A slight stiffness crept into her muscles but she worked to control herself to ease out the tension. She told herself that he lived here, he was from Alexandria so he wasn’t a stranger.

“I’ll take over watching the door.”

“Bout time” Daryl rumbled, annoyed. She wondered if he was annoyed because he hated waiting or because he didn’t like keeping her out so late. She hadn’t minded the time, it wasn’t like she would be sleeping. They had the chance to talk more, catch up on each other’s day. He had been going out to look for food and supplies almost every day for the last few weeks. It had left little time for them to spend together, it had also left her trying to fill her days without him.

Turning, she was about to say thank you to the man but Daryl had other ideas. He was already pulling her up and collecting the blanket off the floor where it fell. The inside of her head became jumbled again as she hadn’t been given the time to work out her next move before she was being pulled away.

The house they shared was only a short walk from where they held the man, but the entire walk Daryl pulled her along with him. As if he wasn’t there she wouldn’t make it on her own. It seemed like she blinked and suddenly found herself standing in their kitchen, Daryl rummaging in the fridge.

“Guess someone came by.” He muttered, pulling a plate of cookies from the fridge.

“Oh, hey.” Moving around him to snatch one off the plate. They were good, sweet, chewy and a little nutty too. “How does Carol do this?” She asks, mouth still full of cookie. He only shakes his head reaching to take one too. In two bites, he’s done and reaching for a second.

At first, her relationship with Carol had been rocky at best, but the weeks that she had spent here the other woman had slowly made herself a common presence in Pandora’s life. When she made it back from their adventure on the other side of the wall she heard about how Carol had saved their home. Almost by herself, she had killed every wolf that had tried to take this place. That was what had cemented their relationship and ultimately what helped finally pull her out of her depression.

“The plus side of the end of the world,” She says reaching into the now open fridge grabbing water for them both. “Is that cookies are dinner.” The end of the sentence was punctuated with a wide yawn. She covered her mouth but Daryl had sharp eyes.

“Come on bed, ain’t like you get alota sleep, anyway.” He muttered.

He moved around the kitchen putting the bottles away and the cookies back in the fridge. It looked so domestic, despite the dirty clothes and crossbow strapped to his back he looked at home. When he finished, he headed to the stairs. He didn’t need to look back to check if she was following, she was always following.

Her night-time ritual had been designed by the doc. Hot bath, clean clothes, and a book. When she was in bed with a book, Daryl stood in the door after she had worked through a few pages.

“Me and Rick are going out again tomorrow.” His frame leaned against the door, arms crossed over his chest. His face appeared closed off, more so than usual. But he almost looked like he was waiting for something, for her? For what? Should she ask him to stay? If she did, would he?

‘I could ask him’ she thought ‘If I asked, he would stay.’ She was sure of that, he had a habit of giving into any of her requests. That was selfish though, keeping him here would only help her but if he went out on a run that would help everyone.

“Ok.” The word came out slowly, drawn out carefully. “I’ll wait.”

Daryl only nodded, turning to disappear down the darkened hall way.

Confused, she set the book down and started pulling blankets over herself as she lowered down into the bed.

Sleep came quickly, and it was mostly peaceful. Sometime in the night the dreams started. She stood in the empty streets of Alexandria. Empty? That wasn’t right. It shouldn’t be empty. She tried to turn but her movements were slow, like she was moving in water. Everything around her seemed to have a grey tint. There was no sound, even her footsteps made no sound as she wandered down the streets. Stopping, she tried to snap her fingers but again, nothing.

“Pandora!”

It was his voice, she would know it anywhere even with the hint of panic it had that she rarely heard from him. It ripped through the silence making it seem overbearingly loud.

“Daryl!” She called back.

In the middle of the empty street she screamed for him. She ran now, struggling to go faster but she pushed harder. But their house was empty, Rick’s house was empty, the medical house was empty. Everywhere she looked was empty.

“Daryl!” She screamed his name until her voice was raw. She ran and ran but at every turn there was nothing, yet Daryl never stopped calling for her.

“Pandora! The gate!”

God damn it. She was running again, this time towards the gate. It wasn’t open, of course it wasn’t, even in her dreams she wasn’t that stupid. But she must be because his voice was coming from beyond that gate she was sure of it. She started opening the gate a few inches to slip through to the other side. She could hear his voice still, so she followed.

“Pandora!”

That scream turned into something different, somehow becoming even louder making the world of Alexandria shatter like glass. Hands were on her then, a scream ripping its way through her chest. When her eyes snapped open, Daryl loomed over her. Instinct kicked in and her hands started flying out to push him away. He was faster though, catching her by the wrists.

“It’s me ok!”

“Fuck” she muttered. Turning away, wrist slipping from his grasp to cover her eyes. She felt the wetness then, the trail of tears that must have been flowing while she dreamed. “I’m sorry, shit sorry.”

The mattress dipped under his weight, she couldn’t see him but she could feel the warmth of his body. Her eyes shut for a moment, the images of the dream flashed behind her eyelids. Her fingers pressed against her eyes until bright lights appeared instead of the images.

“Hey, hey,” He pulled her hands away from her eyes. “Nightmare? Yah been screaming my name.”

She blinked away the tiny lights in her eyes, pulling herself upright. “I dreamt you went missing, outside the walls.”

“Ah ain’t though.” He whispered, a warm hand settling on her arm. “Yah want to-”

“Stay?” She cut him off, shifting to one side of the bed to make room. He was probably about to ask if she wanted to get up since most of the time she did, unable to get back to sleep after a nightmare. He says nothing else, only slips in under the blankets. The mattress dips down more and she moves just a hair to put a line of space between them before she falls asleep again.

The next time she wakes up it’s because Daryl is shaking her again, but the panic in his voice is just as real as it had been in the dream. She comes out of sleep quick, hands reaching out to make sure he was real.

“Get up, Pandora comm’on, that motherfucker got out.” He is already getting dressed, pulling his vest on while jamming his foot into boots.
She moves slower, but at least she’s moving. There is a pair of tights on the bed already, he must have gotten them out for her. How long had he been trying to wake her up? She slipped the tights on while he tossed a green sweater at her. Pulling it over her head, she pulled the too long sleeves into her palms. The sweater was at least a size too big, but that was how she liked it. Tight material on her upper body made her uncomfortable, it made her more aware of the fact that she had become mostly bones and muscle, no fat to speak of.

She must have been taking too long because he appeared in the door way of her room, full scowl in place.

“Com’on I ain’t leaving you here with that asshole out there.” He moved then out of the room, heavy steps sounding down the stairs.

In a few seconds, she dressed, belt around her waist and knife slipped inside its case. She ran right behind him down the stairs only to find him already at the front door waiting. The moment he saw her, he was moving again, and again she followed. Down the street this time, to Rick’s she realized, as they headed towards the end of the street.

Daryl flung the front door open rushing inside, she followed again until she ran right into his outstretched arm. Eyes travelling upwards to meet with his hard face, finger pressed to his lips for her silence. The arm that stopped her drifted for the gun behind his back, “Stay here.” He whispered before heading up the stairs.

The panic is there inside her, thick and hot, it jumbles her thoughts. So much so that she doesn’t notice Glenn, Abraham, and Maggie slipping up behind him. What she hears is the clicks of each of their guns, it seems so loud that she has to cover her ears. The body moves on its own sometimes, like now when she finds herself pressed to the side of the stairs out of sight.

She doesn’t hear them talking, doesn’t hear them descending the stairs. Doesn’t see the man being lead to the living room between them. It took Daryl pulling her hands down from her ears to snap her back into the present moment.

“Ya alright?” Worried blue eyes flicking over her face.

“Fine.” The word came out strained, clipped and tight at the end. He knew she was lying, but he only nodded.

“Asshole wants to talk.” He jerked his head towards the living room.

Her gaze travelled over to where he was, awake and free. He sat at the head of the table, the others fanned out around him, two chairs on either side left empty. For who, she wondered, head tilting to the side in question. That question was answered a moment later when Rick and Michonne came down taking the chairs.

She didn’t think, just moved into the dining room to stand just behind the man named Jesus. He glanced behind her and the intensity of his blue eyes startled her. He fit the nickname Jesus she thought in the pounding seconds they locked eyes, with his long straight hair and bread he could indeed be the son of God returned. Then he smiled at her and involuntarily she stepped back, hitting the solid frame of Daryl standing just behind her.

“Ya sure?” His voice low, lips almost right against her ear when he spoke, she only nodded.

Having all the information was better than having no information, or getting an edited second hand version of it. She needed to see the threat, needed to know what they are up against. Others had a habit of sugar coating information for her, jumping over key details in fear of triggering her. She would stay listen to what he had to say, show him she was indeed a member of this community.

Gaze travelling around the room she noticed how everyone tried to look calm. Rick leaning an arm on the table facing Jesus, Carl sitting as his position almost a mirror image of father, Glenn leaning back, Abraham behind him with his arms crossed. What she didn’t miss were the guns sitting on the table, one in front of each of them all pointed at Jesus. For the first time since she had been here the full realization of how dangerous they were hit her full in the chest. These people were killers, they would kill not only the dead, but the living, any living who dared to threaten them.

“So, how’d you get out?” Rick asked.

Jesus only shrugged, “One guard can’t cover two exits and third floor windows. Knots untie and locks get picked. Entropy comes from order, right?”
“Right.” Daryl almost snarls the word at him, she steps closer attempting to offer comfort for his rage.

“I checked out your arsenal. I haven’t seen anything like that in a long time. You’re well-equipped, but your provisions are low. Very low for the people you have. 54, right?”

The words speared her brain, sending her heart skipping into a panicked beat. He had been sneaking around all night, checking out how they lived and counting their people. Counting their people, had he gone inside the homes or looked in the windows? Reaching out her fingers, she found Daryl and started to grip his hand painfully tight. His gaze flicked to her for a fraction of a second, and it seemed like he understood the panic. His returning grip was just as tight, pulling her even closer to him.

“More than that.” Maggie snapped.

“Well, I appreciate the cookie. My compliments to the chef.” He turned then, eyes locking with her again for the second time.

Seconds ticked by, but she didn’t flinch, eyes glued to him. He smiled, she didn’t return it, only gave him an icy stare in return. In her head, she hoped she was fooling him, hoped the cold eyes would mask the slight tremble in her frame and the fact that her hand gripped Daryl’s.

“Yeah, she ain’t here.” Daryl snapped, drawing Jesus’ attention away from her.

Pandora sagged when the pressure of his stare was gone.

“Look, we got off to a bad start. But we’re on the same side—the living side. You and Rick had every reason to leave me out there but you didn’t. I’m from a place like this one. Part of my job is searching out other settlements to trade with. I took your truck because my community needs things, and both of you looked like trouble.”

She scoffed, he wasn’t wrong, they were trouble.

“I was wrong. You’re good people and this is a good place. I think our communities may be able to help each other.”

Communities. The word rattled around in her head. A community meant more people, people living together, being safe. Behind walls maybe, it must be behind walls, how else were they going to be safe. Do they have as many people as we do? Maybe they had been together form the start, that still happened sometimes.

The rest of the conversation became lost on her as she tried to work out the idea of more places just like this one. Around her, their lips still moved, but she didn't understand them.

It wasn’t until Daryl was in front of her again that she realized the meeting had ended.

“Pandora?”

“Huh?”

Her eyes focused again, the room was empty except for Jesus and Rick leaning over a map and speaking in low tones.

“Let me take you home ok? Before we go” He had his hand on her arm now, about to take her from the room.

“Wait what?”

“Ahm leaving soon, gotta pack the RV.”

“I don’t understand.”

Daryl’s eyes flickered over her face realizing that she hadn’t heard everything.

“We’re going to see this place; the place Jesus came from. Wanna see what it's all about.”

“Are you fucking crazy?!” She hissed. Louder than she thought, she guessed, because Jesus and Rick turned to stare at them.

“We gonna be just fine, we gonna go look then come right back. Ah’ll be home tomorrow.”

She didn’t argue, only turned to storm from the room. She could have sworn she heard Jesus say something about women, but she moved too fast to be sure.
Back in the house, she raged, pacing her room in quick, angry strides. What the fuck were they thinking? They were going to follow a man who stole from them, who broke out and snuck around their home at night. Panic and anger flared then, shoving her hand into her mouth, she screamed into it. It helped, the pain from biting down on her hand let her let go of some of her rage.

When she had calmed down enough, her small frame moved with a new sense of purpose. Closet first for the black bag, dresser next for an extra change of clothes, bedside table then for her emergency bottle of anxiety pills and some proteins bars. Once the bag was packed, she headed downstairs. Like fucking hell she would let him go alone. Stupid idea anyway, albeit hers was even stupider. But that didn’t matter right now.

Side stepping around the chair at her window, she looked out, making sure to only pull the curtain aside enough for her to see outside. The last thing she needed would be for someone to find her. When the coast was clear, she slipped out the door. Better to go through the backyards as it was the best way to make sure no one saw her. Hopping the fences easily, a small, twisted part of her had to admit it was also kind of fun. As long as she didn’t think about the end result, just about the process of getting there she would be fine. Once she got to the house at the end of block voices floated out to her, she had made it to Rick’s house.

“Back at the house Ah think, she’s pretty pissed.” Daryl's voice. She crept between the two houses, leaning around to see the layout of activity in front of her.

“Do you blame her? Look at what happened the last time you said it was safe.” Denise now, somewhere from the front of the house.

"Ah know that. Ah asked Carol to go check on her in case she doesn't wanna see me."

She could see Denise standing behind Daryl who appeared to be working on the RV. A sigh escaped her, that would be perfect for hiding. She tuned out the rest of their conversation, only focusing on watching the bodies mulling around the RV. After a few minutes, she had it, the perfect opportunity. Abraham turned to go inside, Maggie and Glenn following behind him. She bolted then, easing the door open and slipping inside. The inside is empty of people for the moment, just some bags and guns. Running for the bathroom she slips inside and shuts the door behind her.

In that moment, hidden behind the closed door of the bathroom the realization of what she had done hit her. She had put herself inside the vehicle they were going to take outside of the walls. Even after everything that had happened, some part of her fucked up brain thought this was a good idea.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit” She whispered, feeling the air getting tighter in her chest. “Count” she told herself. She tried counting each breath as she took it. She could stay in here as long as no one needed the bathroom. She could hide here the whole time and slip back inside her house once they came back. Which would be tomorrow, she remembers Daryl saying that, she could be stuck in here until tomorrow?

“Let’s chew up some asphalt!” Abraham’s command made her jump.

She tried to fumble with the handle on the door to get out. This had been a stupid idea, she would get out right now. Once she was out of this bathroom, she would leave the RV, explain everything to Daryl and it would be fine. With her new plan, shaking fingers tried to open the handle, once, twice, but nothing happened. The door didn’t open, and under her, the RV lurched into motion. A sick feeling grew in the pit of her stomach, panic ran through her. Easing herself down onto the toilet, she tried to breathe through the panic.

There had been no way to know how long she had been trapped when she had finally calmed down enough to try getting out again. This time, the door flew open, slamming into the wall on the other side. When she peeked her head out, all eyes turned to her. Heat curled up her neck, tears blurring her vision.
“Mother dick!” Abraham’s voice broke the ticking silence inside. Running a hand over his face, “Might as well come out kid, can’t do anything now.”
“What's going on?” Rick’s voice came from the front of the RV.

“God damn stole away.” Abraham muttered, sitting back down in the little chair.

Daryl is in front of her now, both hands on her arms pulling her out of the bathroom. She didn't struggle just let him pull her into the back of the RV.

“What were yah thinking?”

Chapter 20: Stole Away

Notes:

Chapter 20!! I feel like this is kind of a mile stone for me. I wrote 20 Chapters, I have never stuck with writing anything this long you. I have a bunch of started works but nothing has become what this had become. I am still having fun writing, and my BETA is still having fun I think! Big thanks to her for putting up with me for this long your the best!
As a side note can I take a moment to talk about how much I love this chapter? I really do love it. I love all the difference sides of Pandora we get to see here, there is a darkness that we haven't really seen before. In this chapter we get some flashes of it, but it will come into play as her story progresses.

Check me out on tumblr too I would love to connect with you http://mytinykisses.tumblr.com/

The scene outside the windows quickly turned into tree lined country roads. Pandora sat unmoving, knees drawn up to her chest. She tries to avoid looking out the window while also trying not to glance at Daryl. He was propped up on his elbows with his gaze locked on her hers, unmoving. Trying to find anywhere else to look besides at him or the window was getting uncomfortable. With every passing second of silence, her shoulders sagged a little more as she felt the weight of his gaze. The silence stretched a few more heartbeats before she couldn’t stand it anymore.

“I get that this was probably the stupidest thing I’ve ever done.” She whispered, fingers pressed hard to her temples to clear a headache blooming behind her eyes.

The pressure didn’t last long before she could feel a force pulling her arms down. With a blink, she opened her eyes and found Daryl’s crystal blue ones. She blinked again, but he was still there looking down at her. With the pressure of his hands around her wrists she found everything around her becoming sharper.

“I didn’t…” The sentence died as her thoughts were unable to come forward. “I couldn’t..” Frustrated, she tore her wrists away from him, scrubbing her hands over her face. After a few deep breaths she looked up at him, trying to start again.

“I was scared I guess, after my dream. I was scared that if you went outside those gates that you wouldn’t come back. I wanted to see it for myself too, see these other people to make sure they were what Jesus said, just people.” The words tumbled out now, rolling off her tongue with a speed she didn’t know she had. “I get it, it makes no sense, at the time it made perfect sense and now? Here I am, terrified again.”

She needed to catch her breath after she finished her explanation. While she tried to suck more air into her lungs, more was being pushed out of her again. Daryl came close now and put his arms around her to press her into the hard muscle of his chest.

She was shocked into stiffness. He never reached for her, he didn’t back away when she reached out for him, but this was different. After the initial shock she melted into him, bones turning to jelly.

“I’m sorry,” She muttered, face pressed against him and arms snaking around his waist. He surrounded her, his frame folding around her until she all but disappeared. “I know, I was so fucking stupid.”

“Ahm always gonna come back.” His voice rumbled from his chest, vibrating through her.

Some rational part of her knew there was no way he could make this promise to her. It didn’t matter though, not right now. Not when she was pressed tight against the only thing that felt like safety since this whole thing started. In this moment, his promise was everything.

Behind them, someone cleared their throat. Going stiff for a second she breathed in deep, taking note of his scent before peaking around him.
Rick stood behind them, one hand shoved in the pocket of his jeans.

“Everything all right?”

“Yah.” Daryl was letting her go now, body tensing as he put space between them. One hand remained firm on the small of her back acting as a grounding point. How odd they must appear to everyone. Her: not even a full person as she was all skin, bones and jagged edges. A fraction of what she used to be. Then Daryl: strong, silent, and still very closed off despite the time he had spent with the group. She wondered if any of his family ever thought they would see this side of him, a person who cared so deeply.

The thoughts drifted away the moment she remembered Rick standing there.

“I didn’t mean to get in the way, I mean I won’t get in the way. You won’t even notice I’m here if that’s ok,” She was blabbing again. “I mean I won’t leave the RV if you don’t want me to. I mean if you don’t think it’s a good idea for me to leave the RV.”

She watched him run a hand over his chin, then he got down on one knee in front of her. For the first time, she didn’t flinch or shift away, just sat watching him.

“Alexandria is your place too Pandora, you belong here as much as anyone.” His hand left a slight touch on her knee. “You have every right to see this place.”

She nodded, locks of hair swimming in her watery gaze. Rick gave her knee another squeeze before leaving them alone again. A few seconds passed against in silence, she tried to rub the wetness from her eyes. It was stupid to be so unsettled by words. Those words coming from Rick carried a weight to them, a weight that settled deep in her bones.

“Looks like we’re stopping, wanna get some air?” Daryl was leaning back on the bed again, propped up on his elbows. He must have moved when Rick had spoken to her, she really needed to pay more attention.

Her head turned as she glanced out the window. He was right, everyone was outside now to look around, check nearby cars and stretch their legs. She could do that. Everyone was outside, what could happen in the center of this group?

“Sure.” Her voice wasn’t as strong as she would have liked it to be, but she still stood and headed towards the door.

When she stood on the road outside the RV, the slamming of the door startled her. Her head jerked around and she caught Daryl’s eyes as he stepped out behind her. Right, she was fine. The group stood around her with Glenn and Maggie at the front of the RV speaking in low tones. Abraham puffing on a cigar next to Jesus who was obviously trying to start a conversation.

Pandora stepped away from them, titling her head upward to feel the sun on her face. Despite the cool start to the day, the sun was out and warming everything up . The light eased the darkness behind her eyelids and she smiled despite herself. She was outside the walls, but she felt wonderful. The fear was somewhere there like it always was, but it was under control. She wasn't sure what it was really, the knife at her hip or maybe the lesson from Rosita. Not that it mattered, whatever it was, she would take it.

The surrounding area was new, she had never been here before and the need to know her surroundings ate at her. She headed for the ladder, hand tightening around the rung just above her head. It took little effort for her to pull herself up one handed, she was too light which should alarm her. Another time, she told herself, continuing the climb up to the roof on the RV. Fields stretched the length of her vision, as far as she could see was nothing but fields and the odd house some distance away.

“See anything interesting?”

The force at which her head snapped back made her neck ache. On the ladder stood the man Jesus, he was half way up already, and she hadn’t heard him. The shock of seeing him made her stumble backward, catching on some raised bit of the roof.

“Hey,” He raised his hands in the air, face becoming alarmed. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“What the fuck.” Daryl’s deep growl came from the ground. “Get down.”

Jesus disappeared from her sight. She pictured Daryl ripping him off the ladder, pitching the other man to the floor. That picture of violence in her head made her stomach turn. She worried about the new man oddly enough. Rushing to the side of the roof, she got down on her knees to peer over the side. Daryl was standing in front of Jesus, finger digging into the other man’s chest but their voices were too low for her to hear. Jesus had his hands up like he did when she had seen him.

She was down the ladder in three steps, sliding up beside Daryl to put her hand on his arm. He jerked his head to the side scowling at her.
“It’s fine,” she wanted to say and it was fine because Jesus didn’t know her. She didn’t though, only turned to Jesus. Chin lifting, she met his bright blue eyes, “I was looking for your home, maybe you're lying.” Wherever this courage came from, she couldn’t say, but there she was speaking to a stranger.

“I can’t wait to show it to you.” The smile never flickered from his face, it become stronger, like a light turning all the way on. It unsettled her, and because of it she turned and headed back inside the RV. Everyone else followed only moments later.

She was sitting near the back of the RV, closer to the bedroom. Daryl was beside her, half turned to gaze out the window. Ahead of them, Abraham and Glenn were leaning towards each other speaking in hushed tones. A yawn slipped through her parted lips but she ignored it and got up instead to peer out the window in the back of the RV. She would not sleep in here to spare everyone the sight of her waking up screaming.

As she watched the trees pass them by, more and more little buildings seemed to spring up. It was with her face pressed to the glass trying to read the writing on the buildings that she felt them slow down. She peeked into the hallway to see everyone watching the front of the RV.

Silently, she slipped up beside Daryl who had moved to the middle of the RV, “What is it?”

“Some of Jesus’ people, I think.” He muttered.

Moving back to the window, she eyes the wreck now beside them. A car is turned on its side as the dead had caught under the wheels.

“That’s sad."

“What?”

She turned to examine Daryl who was eyeing her with the oddest expression on his face.

Her own expression reflected her confusion. “Look at the wreck, they are dead so we should keep moving.”

Clearly no one heard her or no one thought she was right because the door was opening and Jesus was the first outside. Despite the voice in her head screaming at her to lock the door behind them she followed them out.

By the time she stepped outside, Rick was holding a gun to Jesus' head. This seemed to be the only interaction the two had.

“If this is a trick, it won’t end well for you.” Rick cocked the pistol he held at Jesus’ head.

“My people are in trouble. They don't- we don’t have a lot of fighters.”

He is frantic now, she could see it. The panicked dart of his eyes, his erratic movements. Gaze flickered to the car, it was empty aside from the old walkers. She slunk beside Daryl, a light touch on his arm caused him to look over. He jerked his head to the side for her to follow him.

“I know how this looks I’ll play it out. Can I borrow a gun?” Jesus leaned in towards Rick nervously smoothing his jacket.

“No.”

Rick’s tone was so harsh that even Pandora stiffened, he wasn’t even talking to her.

Daryl was leaning over the car, eyes on the ground. Beside her, the dead woman stuck in the tire groaned and tried to reach out for her. She shoved the small knife from her belt in her head, the action was second nature to her.

“Hey! We got tracks here.”

She takes a second to notice Daryl had stepped away from her toward the front of the car. He was pointing towards the ground. The group followed his lead, while she trailed a few steps behind. Across the small intersection was a building. Pandora stood behind Maggie and Michonne, eyes wandering to try to figure out what the building was. An office maybe, not that it mattered but it gave her something to do.

The sharp sound of Rick banging on the door turned her attention back to them.

“They gotta be in there.” Jesus said with his eyes fixed on Rick.

“We moving in or what?” She glanced at Abraham who had his hand on his gun, pacing. He reminded her of a caged animal, something deadly pacing a cage just waiting for the wrong person to stick their hand inside.

“How do we know this ain't firecrackers in a trash can?” Daryl was pacing in and out of her line of sight, anxiety rolled off him in waves. For a moment she considered offering him some of the Xanax she had tucked in her bag, but decided against it.

"You don’t."

“We’ll get your people. You’re staying here with one of us.” Rick faced the group, his eyes scanned over everyone.

She knew she wasn’t even an option, so it didn’t matter who stayed. It would be her and someone else, no one would trust him alone with just Pandora to keep watch. Her gaze started to wander again to the surrounding buildings. There was a barn down the road, maybe they would look inside after to see what they could take. Daryl was beside her then, interrupting her train of thought.

“Ahm going in, you stay with Maggie ok?” His hand was on her arm, fingers gripping into the soft skin and causing a sharp focus.

“Ya ya I’ll stay.” She whispered, keeping her voice low. From the corner of her eye she could see Rick tying Jesus’ hands behind his back. He was turning to Maggie now.

“You hear me whistle, shoot him.”

“I will” Maggie shifts her weight from one foot to the other, raising her gun to point at his back.

Pandora moves towards the door as everyone gets ready. Daryl is holding the door open, he will be the last one in. Her fingers brush his arm as Glenn moves past him.

“Be safe.” She tells him, voice pitched low for only him to hear.

“Ain’t nothing gonna happen, Ah’ll be back.” Then the door is closing, and he turns to cast one more glance her way before disappearing down the hallway.

“Come’ere” It’s Maggie calling her. Maybe a whole minute past with her standing in front of the door staring. Turning, Maggie jerked her head to the side raising her eyebrows when Pandora didn’t move right away. With a glance towards the door one more time, she moved to stand beside Maggie.
“You ok?” Maggie asked her hand lowering the gun only a fraction.

“I’ll be fine as soon as they come out.” The answer came out quick, with a sharp edge. She recognized it right away in her own voice. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for it to come out like that.” Her hands shook as she ran her fingers through her hair. There was a building panic inside her now and with every heartbeat it grew.

“I know, you’re worried about Daryl. I’m worried about Glenn.” The other woman shrugged. There is something in her voice that Pandora can’t quite put her finger on. Maggie worried about Glenn because she loved him, she worried about Daryl because? Well because she loved him too. That was really what it comes down too, she loved him because of how amazing he was. He had saved her, how could she not love him for that?

“You are all good people for doing this, for helping my people.”

Pandora jumped, she had forgotten he was there again. How could one man wearing so much clothes make himself so quiet all the damn time?

“I thought they were all dead.” Pandora noted offhandedly, something about him made him easy to talk to. “I would have left.”

Jesus only smiled at her though, “Good thing you weren’t driving then.”

Her eyes narrowed at him, his calmness was grating her nerves. She turned to Maggie who still had her gun trained on Jesus.

“I’m going to go on the roof ok?”

“Ya go keep an eye out. You have a gun?” Maggie was reaching behind her like she already knew the answer, Pandora shook her head anyway. “Here take this one.” In the other woman's hand was a small six chamber gun.

Seconds ticked by before she reached out to take it, fingers closing on the handle.

“Thank you.”

Then she turned back towards the RV, climbing onto the roof. They should put a chair on the roof for her or something with all the time she seemed to spend up here. A quick scan of the surrounding area showed nothing, but it loosened the tension she had been holding in her shoulders. Turning to the side facing the office building she sunk down to the floor, legs hanging off the side. She turned the gun over and over in her hand watching the sun catch the side of the bright metal.

No one had given her a gun before, maybe it was the Doctor’s orders or maybe it was Daryl's idea, she wasn't sure. As dark thoughts curled and took form in her head, it didn't take long for her wonder why. It would take two seconds, three maybe and she would be dead. A bullet to the side of her head would end everything. It was a sick thought and somewhere in her head she knew it. But still, there was a rush of relief that came with the thought of being dead. No more panic, nightmares, anxiety, flashbacks. Popping open the chamber she counted the bullets inside, six, the chamber was full. Would Daryl miss her? Maybe, but he would forget soon. There were too many other things that would clamor for his attention.
Snapping the chamber shut, she rested it on her legs. It was always an option. She could end it all whenever she wanted. Today though, today was a good day despite everything that had happened, she was under control.

The wait was nothing to her, every day for the last several days she had been waiting for him. This was shorter. There was a flicker of movement on the glass. Shoving the gun in her waist band she stood, shielding her eyes to see, it was them it had to be them. Not bothering with the ladder, she jumped from the roof, small sparks of pain shot through her foot but it didn't stop her from running.

Rick and Michonne came out first, two others she didn’t know followed behind. She ignored them as she darted past. Daryl was behind the strangers, she flew at him. He must have expected something like that because his feet were planted and his frame unmoving even with the force of her weight.

“See? Easy.” His voice was low in her ear and she shivered, pressing herself tighter to him. Long moments ticked by in silence until he let her go, jerking his head toward the RV and everyone else already moving in that direction. “Come’on time to hit the road.”

When they reached the door, everyone was already inside. Stepping up the stairs, she stood frozen in the doorway. The people they had found were inside too, some in the front and some in the back.

“Pandora? Come on kid.” Abraham was calling her inside, they were the last ones to get on. But her brain froze, stuck on the faces of the strangers in this closed space with her.

“Ya got this, Ah got you.” Daryl’s voice behind her jump-started her into motion. Before she knew it, she was all the way in the back of the RV, hidden from the eyes of those she didn’t know.

From where she stood at the window, she watched the world pass by. Her hands were tight in fists at her sides. Strangers were still a sore spot for her these days. Take people she doesn’t know plus a small enclosed space and you have the recipe for a Pandora style panic-attack.

Beside her, Daryl kept stealing glances in her direction. “What number?” He kept his voice low, but she was sure she saw the one who was a doctor glance at her.

“Somewhere between a three and freaking the fuck out.” She tried to laugh, but it sounded more like a panicked hiccup. Her hand shot over her mouth to stifle the sound.

“Yah all right, we'll be outta here soon. Dump these people back where they came from.” He was moving closer now, the solid feeling of him helping her keep a hold on the fragile calmness she had left. Shifting, she moved so she was between him and the window, he didn’t move away and let her slip in the space there.

They stood not talking for awhile, just watching. When they stopped moving the jolt of it caught her off guard. Daryl was faster than she was though, catching her arm and keeping her upright and balanced.

From the front of the RV the conversation floated towards them.

“Come’on seems like we’re here.”

They waited until everyone else had left before they made their way outside to join them. When she pushed the door open, she stopped, furrowing her brows peering at the ground. The ground in front of her was a sea of wet, brown mud.

“These are my good boots.” She muttered under her breath. She could have sworn she heard Daryl chuckle behind her. Still, she didn’t move.

“Come on kid, don’t got all day.” Abraham was holding out his arms, lip upturned in a small smile.

Despite the situation she currently found herself in, she grinned at him and jumped right at him. He caught her with no problems, shifting her so she was on his back instead. Unable to stop herself, she laughed trying to picture what they looked like to everyone else. The new people all turned to watch them, not even trying to hide their stares.

“These are my good boots.” She announced as they passed them. Under her, Abraham laughed. He took wide steps to clear the muddy ground before he set her down on the grass.

In front of her was a huge wall made of logs, maybe, she would need to be closer to see. Still, it was impressive as it was so high, it reminded her of home.

“That’s us. That’s the Hilltop.”

She followed behind them now, everyone putting guns back in belts or over their shoulders. more relaxed now. Pandora followed beside Daryl, silence stretching over the group. They left the RV then meeting up with a road, but as she walked for longer the path under her turned to mud.

“Great,” she muttered looking down at her now mud covered boots. “This place better be amazing cause it’s ruining my boots.” Daryl only shook his head looking amused.

They didn't walk for long and soon she was staring up at what must be their gate. A stream of sunlight cut through the clouds then right into her eyes, raising her hand over her face she tried to make out the two figures on top of the gate.

“Stop right there!” The voice came from somewhere above them, the gate maybe. She couldn’t see as the sun filled her gaze with nothing but blinding light. Around her, she could hear the sounds of guns cocking and feet moving.

“You gonna make us?” Daryl asked, tone clipped with anger.

“Jesus what the hell is this?”

A man spoke from the top of the gate. She shifted, taking the small gun Maggie had given her and following suit by pointing the barrel at the men she saw standing with the spears. Around the handle, her hands shook as she tried to make sure it was aimed the right way. In front of them, Jesus held his hands up, calm compared to the fighting stance of the rest of her group.

Her group, she had thought it so casually now. When had that happened? When did they become her group? Was it before, when she had fought alongside them for the home they all so desperately needed, or some time before that? She wasn’t sure, but when she turned the word over in her brain, it felt right.

The train of thought she had just followed was all consuming, so much so that it made her miss whatever Jesus had said. He was turning now, speaking to them, but he was looking at her.

“Sorry about these guys.” He tried to smile, but it faltered. His gaze shifted away then moving between Rick and Daryl. “they get antsy standing up there all day doing nothing.”

“They give up their weapons, then we’ll open the gates.”

Panicked, she looked at Daryl. There was way no they would give up their weapons. She wouldn’t and if it meant that she was staying outside, then she was staying outside. She would walk back to the RV and wait there, no one was taking her knife or her newly acquired gun.

“Why don’t ya come down here and get’em?” His reply answered her unspoken question, a tiny bit her tension released from her shoulders.
Someone else was stepping forward and getting too close so she side stepped away, putting herself to Daryl’s left this time. Glancing over, she recognized the man who was a doctor, she hadn’t taken the time to learn his name.

“Gentlemen look, we vouch for these people alright? They saved us out there.”

Fear crept up her back then, sharp claws digging into her spine. Shifting closer to Daryl, she tried to breathe through it, but it was choking. This would end badly, she knew it. They should go, just turn around and leave. They didn’t need these new people.

“Daryl, let’s go.” The whisper was meant only for him but Jesus turned his head in her direction and she felt herself shrinking under his gaze.
“Lower the spears.” His voice held a sharper edge now.

Rick was stepping up to Jesus, “Look I’m not taking any chances, tell your guy Gregory to come out here.”

‘No,’ she wanted to scream. ‘We turn around and we go back forget about this place and these people.’

“Daryl.” She whispered again, trying to get his attention but when he didn’t turn, she touched his arm.

Turning, he switched to holding the gun with one hand and with his free hand he reached for her, pulling her even closer. “Ah got you.” Then he was holding the gun up again, hand gone from her arm.

The hard look in his eyes quelled the fear, but only a fraction, causing the demon she pictures to skitter down her spine.
Jesus was talking to Rick now, loud enough for only her group to hear.

“No, don’t you see what just happened? I’m letting you keep your guns. Look we ran out of ammo months ago. I like you people, I trust you. Trust us.”

A fleeting glance behind Rick and Jesus she noticed everyone but herself and Daryl was lowering their weapons. Rather than follow suit, she increased her grip, knuckles turning white with the force of it.

“Open the gates Cal.”

For a moment, with her heart hammering in her chest, she thinks they are all about to die. She pictures the gates opening and a flood of armed men and women rushing out to greet them. It doesn’t happen though, her group and the new people walk right past her.

“Pandora, come on you can lower the gun now.” Daryl was beside her, his hands around her wrist pulling her arms down. “Where did you get that thing anyway?”

Unlocking her joints, she tucked it back into the belt she was wearing, “Maggie gave it to me.”

He says nothing else, only turns and follows the group inside with her right behind him.

Chapter 21: Hilltop

Notes:

Sunday! Currently watching TWD super excited for this week. Here is her is the new chapter. I think this is one of my favorites actually, I love seeing Pandora out of her element watching how she copes with new situations. Hope you guys like it!

Pandora would be lying if she said her breath didn’t catch just a bit when the gates finally opened and they began to walk inside. Slowing her pace as she gaped around her, she slipped to a place in the back of the group. The small space was filled to the brim with activity. A woman fed a few chickens in a small pen and small raised boxes of different vegetables were spread out everywhere. A few smaller trailers littered the space to her left. In one, a man stood in front of a burning hot fireplace and some distance away half finished wood working projects littered a table. At the back there was a collection of small metal trailers with a few people mulling around outside them.

It was a tiny village, all centered around the grandest house she had ever seen. Ahead of her, the group kept walking. Jogging to catch up, she became aware of eyes on her.

“There was a material yard for a power company near by, that’s how we put up the walls. A lot of people came from a Federal emergency management agency camp trailers came with them.” Jesus walked backwards in front of them now, gesturing to the section of metal trailers.

“How did people find out about this place?” The awe that Pandora felt was clearly reflected in Michonne’s face as she asked.

Jesus smiled, gesturing to the house in front of them, “That’s called Barrington House. The family that owned it gave it to the state in the 30s. The state turned it into a history museum. Every elementary school for 50 miles used to come here for field trips.”

They had stopped now while Jesus continued to talk, she tuned him out though, needing the time to sort through her own head. The house drew her attention again as it is grand, three stories and each wall is full of windows. At the top is a small look-out area, just the sight of it made her heart beat faster. She had to get up there had to see the view.

When she started moving again Daryl reached for her elbow pulling her beside him. “Come’on.” He grunted, heading up the steps. She allowed herself to be tugged along while still trying to drink everything in.

The inside of the house was perfect, just like she pictured an old house like this should look. There was even a wooden table in the center of a carpet in the main room. The whole picture of the place made her laugh softly to herself. She drifted around the room as the drone of Jesus’ voice continued in the background of her hearing. Moving deeper into the room, she found herself next to Daryl. She always seemed to end up next to him.

Her fingers brushed along his arm, it is sticky with sweat. “They have a sitting room.” She pitched her voice low for only him to catch. With a small giggle again, she let her fingers fall from his arm to run them along the chair next to him.

The door behind her opened and a man stepped out dressed in a gray suit. “Jesus! You’re back. With guests.”

The laugher died on her lips as she slipped away from him, sliding back behind Daryl. Her heart beat wildly inside her chest, she tried to reason with herself. It was a closed door, most closed doors had people behind them. This was a new place, everyone was a stranger, so logically a stranger might come from behind a closed door. The rational train of thought, however, did nothing for the hammering in her chest.

“Everyone, this is Gregory.” Jesus announced. “He keeps the trains running on time around here.”

“I’m the boss.” Gregory said with a smile.

Something dark lurked beneath his smile, it made her stomach turn. Uncomfortable, she shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

Rick stepped forward, his gun held in his arms like a small child, “Well I’m Rick we have a community--”

“Why don’t y’all go get cleaned up, hmm?” He cut Rick off, waving a hand at him.

Her gaze moved to Daryl as he stood unnaturally still. She watched him watch the world around him, he focused on the man in front of them named Gregory.

“We’re fine.” The open, friendly face Rick had worn a moment ago slipped away, replaced with a hard look she had come to recognize.

Pandora pictures this scene exploding into violence at any second. Her fingers drumming on the handle of her knife just in case.

“Jesus will show you where you can get washed up. Then, come back down here when you’re ready.” Gregory stepped out of the doorway then leaning in close to Rick with a stage whisper he said, “It’s hard to keep this place clean.”

Pandora didn’t hear Rick’s answer, in fact she didn’t hear much of anything beyond the blood pounding in her ears. In the span of time it took her to control her rage, they had started moving. Daryl was behind her, pushing her up the steps behind Glenn.

Once upstairs, Jesus turned to them to gesture to two open doors on the right, “I have this room empty right now and the bathroom is across the hall.”

Everyone moved toward the room but she hung back, running her hand over the banister. Daryl stepped beside her, leaning over the railing on his elbows.

“Daryl?” Jesus was standing to Daryl’s right, a small smile on his lips. “If you two would come with me I have another room, you can use your own bathroom too.” Jesus winked at her but she lowered her eyes, her throat going dry.

She followed Daryl though, not looking up until she heard the sound of the door click. Only then did she drop her shoulders and head towards the bed in the room. Tossing the bag to the floor, she lays back on the bed, making sure to spread out and rub as much of herself as she can on the crisp, white bed.
“Yah ok?” Daryl questioned from where he leaned against the door.

Propped up on her elbows, she grinned at him, “It's hard to keep this place clean you know.” The question easily sidestepped as she wasn’t okay. She found herself somewhere between a functioning person and a panic attack.

Daryl only shook his head, “Go clean up. Ah’ll wait.” He stood by the window now, always on high alert.

Letting out a sigh, she got up from the bed and headed into the bathroom. Freshly showered, she was back in the room minutes later, Daryl passing her without a word. Standing at the window, she finger combed her damp hair as she had just given it a quick wash in shower. That slime ball did say clean up, so she had taken full advantage.

Below her, people went about their usual tasks of feeding the animals and washing clothes. Behind her, the bathroom door clicked open so she turned, eyes running over the length of him.

“You clean up pretty good.” She said, glancing back out the window.

“Yah ok?” He asked, standing beside her, not touching but close enough that the heat rolled off him in waves. She tried not to roll her eyes, he wouldn’t let her go without an answer.

“I think I am a steady three right now.” She finished working through her damp hair, wiping her hands on the tank top she had on under her sweater. “This is a lot of new shit, but I’m holding it together.”

He only nodded, “Ready?”

Breathing deep, she tried to fill her lungs with as much air as she could with her fists clenching and unclenching slowly at her sides.

“If it’s too much yah tell me, and we leave.”

She nodded again, turning and heading towards the door. They were in the main room again, only this time it was empty. Well, mostly empty as she realized Abraham sat back in one of the uncomfortable looking chairs. She had no plans to sit here with him so they could stare at each other until the rest of the group came down.

She turned to head down the long hallway, Daryl caught her arm as he walked past her. “Stay close.”

Nodding, she slipped past to explore the back of the house. The hallway she wandered down opened into a formal dining room. To the left and right there was only more doors, more bedrooms she guessed but she didn’t try to to go in and find out. This was as far as she could go without opening any doors.

“Pandora?”

A voice behind her made her jump, nails digging into her soft palms. She turned slowly from the window she had been looking out to see Jesus at the end of the hall. He kept a good bit of distance between them to which she was grateful.

“Is here ok?” he asked, after he had taken a few steps closer to her.

With a glare at him she nodded, crossing her arms around her middle as she was suddenly feeling too exposed. She was making strides every day with her group but strangers were a different story. Right now, her home was damn far away.

“I never formally introduced myself to you, I’m Paul or Jesus.” His smile lit up. “and you are Pandora. I heard Daryl say your name before. Anything you need, please just ask.”

In her mind’s eye, she pictured the lookout she had seen from outside. Anxiety rattled her brain. Sucking in a breath, she dug her fingers hard into her side before she could answer.

“The lookout. I’d like to see that.” She tried to pitch her voice louder to make sure he could hear her beyond the distance.
Her answer came in his smile which almost impossibly got bigger.

“I can show it to you. Right now, even.”

She counted the seconds between her breaths again before she tried to answer. When she opened her mouth, nothing came out. Heat crept up her neck, flooding her face. She had been doing so fucking well but with a few words from Jesus she was tripping over herself, unable to pull herself together long enough to even string a sentence together.
She turned away for a second, facing the window again and counting backwards from 20 before she turned back.

“I would like to see it, with Daryl.”

When she turned back, Jesus was still smiling. He had stepped to the side, making room in the hallway for her to pass. Pandora stepped away from the window, heading back to the front room where she had left Daryl. He stood in the front room looking out the window. Standing behind him, she touched his arm lightly and he turned, glancing at her over his shoulder.

“Ya?”

“Jesus said he would take me up to see the lookout. Come with me?”

A deep scowl appeared on his face that he aimed at Jesus, she guessed he had followed behind her.

“Ya talked to him?” Daryl asked, turning his face back to her.

Her fingers dug into the soft skin of her palms again. Blinking, she whispered, “Does one sentence count?”

He scoffed, “Alright let’s go.”

Jesus lead them to the back of the house, off the kitchen there was a door with a set of stairs.

“It’s up this way,” He said, heading up before them. “Steps are a little narrow, so be careful.”
Daryl slipped in between her and Jesus leaving her to follow behind them. In front of her Daryl’s shoulders were a tight line, tension radiated off of him. Daryl didn’t like this man, Pandora knew the story of how Jesus tried to steal their truck. Part of her knew it wasn’t just that, he protected her. She wanted to say she didn’t need it, but who was she kidding really. A month ago, she refused to leave her room as she was suffering a second mental break in a few short months.

The steps opened to a small room, the surrounding walls were nothing but clear panes of window glass. Gasping, she shoved past the two men. Pressing her hands to the glass, she peered at the surrounding area. The view stretched out for miles and miles, she could see the RV down the road and further down the barn and the office building they had been at before.

“This is amazing.” She breathed, her face pressed so close to the glass that her breath fogged it.

“Like I said, perfect for security.”

She stepped away from the window, moving to circle the room to get the view from every side. She hadn’t really paid attention to where they were standing and while she moved around the room, she knocked right into Jesus. He reached out and put a hand on her arm to keep her from tripping over her own feet.
The instant his hand touched her arm she went stiff, eyes darting up to his face. For a second, he wasn’t Jesus anymore, he was someone else with a face hidden in deep, swirling shadows. The air was sucked from her lungs, sucked from the whole room, it left her gasping. Shaking, her legs threatened to give out. Daryl moved fast though, pulling her away from him.
“Hey Pandora, you are right here, with me, okay?”

Daryl’s hand were on her upper arms, grip tightening slightly with every word. Through the panic, the pressure was grounding, re-focusing her.

Struggling to breathe, she shut her eyes and started repeating her long forgotten facts. Moments ticked by, the only sound her rapid breathing. When she was finally able to open her eyes, Daryl still held her eyes. Behind him, Jesus had stayed but turned his back to them, giving them as much space as possible in the small room.

“We should, um, get back down to the rest of your group.” He said, not turning to look at them. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

He was gone then, heading down the narrow stairs. Daryl stayed behind her this time and put a hand on her lower back as she walked. Jesus hadn’t waited for them, only went into the main room again. From where they stood, she could see the front room had filled with her group again.

In the corner, Maggie was speaking in low, hushed tones with Rick. The others moved about, clearly agitated and tense. Jesus had joined Maggie and Rick now. She watched him sigh, running his hand over his face.

Daryl lead her into the back of the small sitting room then he left, leaving her to join Rick and Maggie. Eyes wandering around the room, a stiff-backed pink chair caught her attention. It didn’t look welcoming per se, but nothing really did in that place. Pandora sunk down into it, pulling her knees up to her chest. She rested her chin in the space between her knees, still drying locks of hair covering her face.

Had she tumbled into a panic attack, no, but she isn’t in the same frame of mind she had been an hour or so before. The grip she had on the world around her was a shaky hold right now, and she wasn’t sure how to make it more solid. Not in this place that wasn’t her own. In Alexandria, she could see Denise or working out always helped her stay present. Here, her support system was missing, she could already sense herself slipping away slowly.

Oddly, the one who seemed to notice was Jesus. She would catch him casting glances her way, his face a mix of worry and regret. He didn’t stop though, didn’t halt the conversation they were having, none of which she understood.

Reaching down, she ran her fingers over the black bag she had come with. Someone had pushed it under the chair she was in. Had that happened now while she had been sitting here? Probably not, but not like she would have noticed someone putting it there. Taking it from the floor, she hugged it tightly to her chest.

“I will talk to him and we will work this out. Circumstances change.” Jesus was speaking to the group. The context of the conversation went over her head, but suddenly she could feel the tension in the room and it was just another thing she couldn’t handle.

So, she stood with the bag still held tight to her chest moving back to the front room where she could slip out the front door. The porch of the house was large enough that she could find a small corner to sit in away from the eyes of the people here. The air had become a little cooler now, but she didn’t notice, really. Everything was too loud, too tense, to hard right now. When she shifted her weight the little bottle of pills in her bag jingled. Her hand was digging in the back before she could make even some coherent thoughts about why this might be a bad idea. It didn’t matter, in Alexandria meds were a last resort here fuck it.

It took a few tries to get the bottle open with the force at which her hands shook. When it finally open, she popped a little half pill into her mouth and swallowed it dry. It didn’t seem fast enough though the world around her still seemed to move too fast. Everything swam in her vision. The breath in her lungs burned she tried to open her mouth wider, but it didn’t seem to help. Minutes of struggling to breath past and she was left with the feeling that she was floating. It was a nice feeling every emotion from before was water, but she floated above everything.

In front of her the gates opened a small group came rushing in. a small group rushed through four of them, no three maybe. Now everything seemed to slow. Except the moment one of them rushed past her then the world moved too fast. No that one wasn’t part of their group she didn’t think. In the next moment the huge doors swung open, Jesus and Gregory in the lead her group following close behind them.

Getting to her feet she followed them their faces hard with tension. It was so thick she could almost taste it, but it seemed so far away from her that the only reason she only followed due to a dull sense of curiosity.

“Nathan, what happened to everyone else? Where’s Tim and Marsha?”

The man Gregory stood at the front with Jesus.

“They’re dead.”

Dead the word knocked around in her brain, for some reason thoughts just slipping away. She tried to grab them, she did but it was like holding onto water. God damn why didn’t she take these things more often. Sliding up between Daryl and Abraham, fingers brushed his arm lingering longer than she usually did. The heat of his skin felt so nice she looped her arm with his leaning on his arm.

The man moved closer to Gregory now he was saying something but she couldn’t quite make it out. She tried to step closer, but she had looped her arm with Daryl and the moment she moved to step away he pulled her back to his side. Every muscle in his body felt pulled tight, she was about to ask him what was wrong then in front of her the world exploded into chaos.

“Get off me! I had to!” The man lay on the ground now Rick pressing his weight on top of him, the blade still in his hand she could see it.

Around her everything seemed slow, but the kind of slow that happened when you were really paying attention. Rick lay on the floor now with the man under him one hand around his neck the other hitting him. Someone else pulled Rick off, Abraham bolted from her side forever blood thirsty.

She watched the man in red get the upper hand Abraham on the ground. When he wrapped his hands around Abrahams neck, she flew at them. Daryl tried to hold her back she was almost sure, but she danced out of his grip. She wasn’t really thinking about anything, not what she was doing or what she was going to do when she got there she was just getting there.
The force at which she kicked the man with surprised her. Under her steel toed boots, she heard the crunch of his ribs. He crumpled to the ground a guttural scream. Daryl’s beside her then gun out pointed at the screaming man.

“I don’t think he is getting up” She muttered wiping her hair from her eyes.

“Shit.” He was pacing in front of her now, but he wasn’t watching her his eyes are fixed on Rick and his struggle .

Turning as well she watched them, when she finally focused on Rick he lay on the ground covered in blood and the man lay above him dead.

This is bad, she thought to herself. The man on the ground was gasping trying to form a sentence, he did say something but she kicked him again another hard one to the same spot. Daryl pulled her away then, for a moment it was still too still.
Movement exploded again someone had hit Rick, Michonne wasted no time laying her out on the ground. Everyone had guns out now, she should get her gun. For once her hands held it steady, and the gun’s weight was comfortable in her hands. She aimed for the man with spear he looked like he was coming towards them.

“Drop it!” He screamed was he talking to her? Did he see her?
It didn’t matter really because Rick was already moving. “I don’t think I will.”

Jesus slipped into her vision hands up like always trying to be the calm one. Looking around she appeared to be the most calm, not a single shake or tremor to be seen.

“Ethan was our friend, but let’s not pretend he was anything more then a coward who attacked us. He did this, and these people stopped him.”

“What can I do?”

“Put the gun away. You’ve done enough.” There was a pause when Jesus made the request but Rick did lower his gun. “You have to know that things aren’t as simple as they might seem. Just give me some time,"

As she watched them titling her head to the side, she felt hands on her. Blinking she turned her head slowly Daryl took the gun from her hand moving to tuck in into his waistband.

“Hey that’s mine, put it back.” She turned lifting her sweater to show him the back of pants where she had been keeping it.
“No, what the hell did you do?” Hands on her shoulders he turned her around he locked his gaze eyes burning into her.

Uncomprehending she stared back at him, “He was hurting Abraham so I stopped him.”

“That aint what I mean, what happened?”

“Oh,” She grinned at him. Reaching over she pulled the gun free of his waist slipping in back into the spot on the small of her back. “I took a Xanax half of one actually but I feel better.”
“Shit, not a good fucking time.”

“Would you rather I was a basket case?” Pandora asked some of her anxiety trying to push through her wonderful drug haze. She didn’t get the chance to say anything else because he was dragging her back into the big house with the rest of the group. From the corner of her eye she watched Glenn toss her black bag at Daryl, he caught it one handed keeping the other hand on her lower back.

Once inside he leads her to a smaller room an office, maybe. Her haze getting stronger without something to focus on. Daryl lead her to the sofa in the center of the room. Knees tucked under her she watched the others the room. It was a lot of waiting, they were waiting to hear about the leader here Gregory. He had been stabbed she remembered seeing that now, remembered hearing the sound of the knife sliding into his gut. Shifting she tried to get comfortable on the sofa, but it was terrible. Hard, stiff and cold. She tried to find a way to be comfortable, legs tucked under her leaning back, knees pulled up to her chest chin resting on them, nothing.
Around her everyone paced small nervous movements. A sigh escaped her followed by a heavy blink. Heaving a sigh she got up and headed to where Daryl stood silent by the window.

“Ya alright?” He asked glancing down at her.

“Tired.” She managed tongue feeling too big for her mouth. The movements of her body were slow now everything seemed to take more concentration. He must have caught on because he was moving her back to the stiff backed sofa again. “No,” she tried to struggle against him. “It not comfy.”

He wasn’t listening though because he pulled her down alongside him.

“Oh better..” she murmured slipping down next to him. Laying down she rested her head on his leg. He didn’t move only stretched out more, under her head she could feel the tightness in his muscles. He was still on edge everyone was, she would be too if she wasn’t high on Xanax.

“Don’t sleep.” He told her looking down.

In return he got a sloppy grin and no real answer. She could have sworn she heard him muttering something about the “fucking drugs.”

This was much better Daryl’s heat melted away any lingering tension in her muscles.

“Kids ok?” Somewhere Abraham’s voice found her.

“Had those fucking pills from the Doc in her bag.”

“The Xanax?”

“Ya took half.”

Abraham didn’t say anything else, or he did maybe and she had fallen asleep. It didn’t quite feel like sleeping though, the sounds of the room still found their way to her but they seemed far away. On top of her someone draped something heavy, trapping the minimal amount of heat she produced. Under her Daryl sat unnaturally still, there was no way a man should be so still. Any longer though and that stillness would have her slipping right into sleep. There was still so much to know, did she really come all this way only to fall asleep before the end of the day?

Shifting she managed to pull herself into a sitting position, she still leaned heavily on Daryl more so for her own selfish reasons.

“Hey.” His voice was low.

“Hi.” The word is slow detached. “Can’t sleep here, not yet.”

He only sighed the sound shaking through her waking her up even more. It didn’t take long before a restlessness was creeping into her bones. It took more effect that she would have thought to get up from the small sofa, but when she did she wondered to the window. In front of the house that woman was leaning over the dead body, she hadn’t stopped crying. She had been there since everyone had come inside. Daryl materialized beside her one hand moving to rest the small of her back. Every day the small touches became their new normal, a brush of her fingers, his hand on her lower back. She toed a line with him, every day navigating the fine lines of their relationship.

Behind them the door opened and shut when Jesus came in, “Dr. Carson was able to patch Gregory up. He’s in pain but he’ll live.”

Daryl had turned leaving on a bookshelf Watching Jesus opposites him. She had turned with him tucking herself half under his warm arm.

“So, what now?” Michonne asking from her seat in one of the stiff-backed chairs.

“Things like that don’t usually happen here, but, uh, it's settled.” Jesus glanced at Rick first, them Daryl before finally moving to her.

“We heard the name Negan?” Rick said from his causal position against the desk. “A while back Daryl, Pandora and Abraham had a run in with his men. Who is he?”

“Negan is the head of a group of people he calls the Saviours. As soon as the walls were built, the Saviours showed up.” She felt Daryl move and shift then he was gone leaning back on the window alone watching Daryl pace in and out of her vision.
“They meet with Gregory on behalf of their boss. They made a lot of demands, even more threats. And He killed one of us Rory. He was 16 years old. They beat him to death right in front of us. Said we needed to understand right off the bat. Gregory’s not exactly good at confrontation. He is not the lead I would have chosen but he made this place what it is, and the people like him.”

Maggie sighed hands stuffed in her pockets, “He made the deal.”

“Half of everything,” Jesus confirmed what everyone seemed to be already thinking. “Our supplies, our crops, our livestock, it all goes to the Saviors.”

“And what do you get in return?” Glenn asked like he thought there was going to be an answer that would make it ok.

“They don’t attack this place they don’t kill us.”

Daryl had found his way back to her back to the window she leaned on. She moved making room for him to lean on the bookshelf again.

“What not just kill them?” The deep vibration of his question had her wrapping her hand around his arm holding tightly.

“Most of the people don’t even know how to fight. Even if we had ammo” In front of her Jesus moved close to them, arms folded over his chest.

Rick seemed to un-phased by the story he was hearing. “Well, how many people does Negan have?”

“We don’t know.” Jesus shrugged. “We’ve seen groups as big as 20.”

He had lifted his arm resting it on her shoulders now pulling her closer. “Now, hold up. So they show up they kill a kid, and you give them half of everything?” He is holding onto her tightly as if somehow that would give him the answer he needed to hear. “These dicks just got a good story. The bogeyman he ain’t shit.”
Daryl was right, and she knew it this man who ever he was he was nothing but a story. They had taken out his men before without a problem. They had been right under his noses.

“A month ago, we took his guys out PDQ. Left them in pieces and puddles.”

Daryl is letting her go now she and she curls against the bookcase huddling into the warmth he had left behind. Counting her breaths she closed her eyes, focusing on the sound of his voice.

“You know, we’ll do it. If we go get your man back kill Negan, take out his boys, will you hook us up? We want food medicine and one of them cows.”

The sentence came out so fast, he was chopping at the bite to get it out.

Rick only shrugged looking as calm as ever, “Confrontation never been something we’ve had trouble with.”

Turning she swept the hair from her eyes blinking the face of Jesus flashed in her vision. She watched him open mouth glancing to each them before finally saying, “I’ll take it to Gregory.”

Jesus left them then, and she found her way back into Daryl’s arms heavy head resting on his chest. The rest of the group moved around, she felt him nod his head but he didn’t move. She wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but she only thing she heard was his soft heart beat against her ear. After some time, the door opened and someone came in, she didn’t need to look to know it was Jesus. He headed straight for the back door, on the back porch she heard their voices but couldn’t make out what they were saying.

Daryl tried to shake her gently, “Hey wanna sit?” He was already moving through towards the little sofa. He eased her down next to him keeping an arm around her. She wasn’t sure why he had even asked her because they were already sitting now.

“I’m fine, I’m fine I just need a minute.” Her voice was half hidden behind his vest. What she need a minute for she wasn’t even sure, how she would feel better after a minute she didn’t know either. It had just seemed like the right thing she say, she was sure Daryl wasn’t even listening to her though.

Maggie had come back then, and the rest of the group following her inside. Daryl didn’t move sitting on the small sofa with her frame still curled into him. They talked for some time planning the details of the deal, how often they would come and get half the food. Half would come with them right now to ensure everyone was on the same page. Bit of the conversation registered with her, but it wasn’t important to her she didn’t waste must energy on it.

Every once in awhile, Daryl would shift his arm tightened around her as he spoke. Her brain would tune into his voice then.

“Every two weeks is good we ain’t greedy.”

A few murmurs of agreement from the group.

“It’s till we get on our feet, then we trade other things. Once the Saviours are gone, we work out a new deal.”

Saviours gone, those words stuck in her head. The images of the men on the bikes, the guns in her face, the heat of the explosion on her skin. Even as she pictured it they disappeared, leaving her with an emptiness in her chest. Like whatever energy she had left was fleeting at best.

Once the planning was finished everyone was move again.
“I’ll get the RV. Stay.”

Under her he shifted only a bit, then he went still again his arm still around her.

“Hey, hey, hey gotta get up now going home. Ahm gonna take you home.”

Around her the world pitched and shifted, under her feet the ground of suddenly solid. Eyelids heavy she struggled to keep them open. With the fleeting moments, she was able to see the darkening sky above her.

“Even Negan didn’t get this much up front.”

Daryl was passing Jesus now as he walked them to the RV and the other man walked away from it. Rick was stopping now speaking to the man she hurt from before.

“We’re gonna get Craig back. The only way to get Craig back is to bring them Gregory’s head.”

“How?” The man was speaking again, the one she kicked.

She didn’t know his name hadn’t heard it said yet. Daryl had stopped listening, she had pulled herself up straighter eyes open half hidden behind heavy locks of hair.

“We need to know what you know about Negan’s compound. We need your help.” A paused Rick put his hand on the man's shoulder “We need you to come.”

A sigh and a glance in her direction, “Yeah okay.”

Moving again, up the steps inside the trailer. Daryl half carried half dragged her to the bed hiding in the back. Carefully he lay her down taking her boots up and allowing her to curl up against the pillows. Beside her the mattress dipped down with his weight. He moved close to her, she closed the distance rolling on her side towards him like a moth drawn to the flame.

“Ahm taking you home. Just like Ah said.”
Blinking a few times she watched Jesus enter, then Michonne behind him soon they were moving and the motion of the tires under her lulled her to sleep.

Notes:

Well there is it! If you liked it let me know I love to hear from you. Also check me out on Tumblr at http://mytinykisses.tumblr.com/

Chapter 22: Change in the air

Notes:

Had to take a longer break this time. My wonderful Beta reader is taking two weeks off, she will be back next weekend though. So my wonderful Fiancée offered to edit this chapter for me. That's exciting because she actually isn't even reading this story ( *gasp* I know) So here you go expect the next time to be on time. Promise.

They drove right through the night, everyone taking turns. There was some shifting movements under her at one point. She shut her eyes tightly, refusing to move when she felt it, fearing this was a dream inside another dream type thing.  She shifted slightly, the warm solid mass under her leaving, head being lifted into the air.

“Thank ya.”

The voice came from somewhere around her, in front of her maybe but still she refused to open her eyes. This could be a nightmare- they had looked like this before. She would open her eyes and it would be the wolves camp and they would have their hands on her. Involuntarily, her body stiffened.

“No problem, she slept the whole time.”

The air around her was cold, hold on her head not as strong as before. Then a new mass was under her, warm, solid, and smelling familiar.  

“Ya, well thank ya.” It was Daryl, now he was moving under her shifting his weight.

Blinking she shifted trying to sit up, he was faster though and stronger using his arm to pull her back down. With his feet he kicked the covers down under them, she allowed him to pull the covers over her.

“Ahm tired… if you’re still high yah need to sleep it off too.”

“Daryl?”, she whispered shifting on her side to entangle herself with him.

“Sleep.”

And she did.

She found herself awake in the middle of the deep night. Beside her Daryl still slept, breathing deep and even. Extracting herself from the bed proved to be harder than she thought. Some time in the night she had wrapped herself around him, left hand tucked into the small space between his back and the mattress.

Relaxing she let herself ease back into the mattress, maybe she should stay. It was nice here, warm, safe, the same. Her and Daryl sleeping this way was something that always happened. She watched the rapid movement of his eye under his lids as she continue to lay beside him.

A noise from the front of the RV drew her attention. Someone was awake and driving, obviously. Holding her breath, she pulled her hand out from under him trying to move as little as possible. Breath still held she waited counting to ten in her head. When she was sure he wasn’t moving she slipped away from the bed.

Around her everyone else was sleeping, save for Abraham who was leaning back eyes watching the darkness outside. he paid her no mind unmoving as she passed him. In the passenger seat she heard someone shift, Rick poked his head around.

“Taking the bed,” he whispered patting her gently on the shoulder.

As he passed her she slipped into the seat he had just left pulling her knees up into her chest. It wasn’t until she turned that she realized it was Jesus in the driver’s seat. In that split second she wished she could crawl back into the bed with Daryl and go back to sleep. It was too late for that, Rick had already claimed the spot she left open, which left her here with Jesus.

“Hey,” Jesus glanced over at her.

Pandora glanced at him from the corner of eye. How long had it been since her Xanax? Eight hours maybe? Average run time was 11 maybe 12 since she didn’t take them often. Throwing her caution to the wind she decided to give this conversation a try.

“Hi,” it came out easier than she thought it would, so easy that in fact she shocked even herself.

“Can’t sleep?” he asked casually.

A sigh escaped her, nerves bubbling up again she tried to push them down. Nails bite into the soft flesh of her hands, the pain sending little lightening bolts up her arms. It cleared the fog of the nerves for a second.

“I don’t sleep,” she answered opening and closing her fingers again letting them bite deeper into her flesh.

“Ah, a common problem these days.”

Turning her head to the side she watched him openly, like it was a common problem to wake up screaming from nightmares remembering the men who raped you, remembering the men who tried to kill you. She considered leaving now, remembering her people skills were not up to par these days.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, I’m a basket case in case you haven’t noticed.”

He didn’t answer, only kept steering them on the road home. The time passed in silence from then on, occasionally she would glance over at him. He didn’t try to talk to her again, it made her feel uncomfortable. The long stretching of silence from a man who almost never stopped talking.

“Thank you for showing me the look out,” she blurted. Her head rested on the tops of her knees watching him. Breaking the awkward silence was easier than she thought, the nerves of starting a conversation creeping up on her again. “Sorry I freaked the fuck out. I’m not good with strangers, or touching, or anything different really.”

“I hope I won’t be a stranger for much longer.”

Despite herself she laughed the small sound trickling its way past her part lips. With her fingers, she tried to clear some of the hair from her eyes suddenly needing a clear picture of his face for memory. Head lifted she stared at him, really stared at him. He was clean shaven, beard trimmed clean. His eyes gained the most attention, they were bright and soft. Something about these eyes seemed untouched by any of this ugliness in their new world.

The rest of the drive was spent in silence, sunlight breaking through the cloud cover. After an unknown amount of time Rick appeared behind her again. This time Jesus pulled over the RV allowing a washroom break and for Rick to take the wheel.

When they stopped, she slipped out with everyone else. Heading deeper into the woods to relieve the growing pressure on her bladder. When she was finished, she made her way back to the RV. Everyone was outside snacking on some of the fruit that had made it back with them.

Daryl was leaning on the side of the RV, cigarette hanging from his lips, two apples in one hand. As she stepped closer to him he tossed one of the apples at her, she caught it no problem.  Slipping up beside him the apple was gone in under five minutes, passing her a second one before she could even ask. The second one she took longer to eat, savoring it, it had been a long time since she put anything fresh in her mouth.

“Ya got something right here.”

Fingers touched her chin wiping away the thin line of juice making its way down her face. Opening her eyes Daryl was standing in front of her wiping his finger on the rag he always seemed to carry. Heat coiled deep in her belly as she held his gaze for a few heart beats.

“Thanks,” turning away she tossed the apple in the grass on the other side of the road. Around her everyone appeared to be getting ready to load back onto the RV. Glancing at Daryl she slipped back inside before everyone, taking her place at the back. It was going to be another long day, she could feel it deep in her bones, best to have some time alone. No one followed her back there, everyone even Daryl giving her space.

Settling herself down on the floor, she curled her knees to her chest listening to the conversations around her. The ride back to Alexandria was rather quick, before long they were pulling through the gate, Sasha greeting them, asking if they had found food.

Somewhere she heard Rick calling for a meeting in the church. She tried to stay and listen but Daryl was pulling her along back to the house. Passing them she heard running footsteps.

“Oh, thank god she’s with you, let me get the door.” It was Carol’s voice coming from somewhere ahead of them.

Only then did she realize her eyes were closed frame leaning heavily on Daryl as she walked. When did that happen, wasn’t she awake just moments ago? Somehow now everything was heavy as if she had weight strapped to her ankles and wrists.

“Thanks, drugs making her sleep.”

Pandora wasn’t sure if he was right, the meds had been taken hours ago, yesterday even if her count was right. This was a different kind of tired, the kind that came from a day that was too long. Everything around her seemed to be slowing down again, and she struggled to get her limbs to obey her.

Before she knew it, she was laying down in her bed hands pulling at her boots. The blankets were pulled over her, pants still on, but hands pulled at her heavy sweater and t-shirt. She was left curled under the blankets in her jeans and a tank top. Dimly she heard the tail end of a conversation between Daryl and Carol.

“The meeting is about this deal we made.”  

“So, you’re going?”

“Yah, she’ll sleep.”

“I’ll come check on her after.”

They had stopped talking now but she was aware of them watching her as she drifted off into sleep.

The next time she opened her eyes the bright midday sun was streaming into her room. Every muscle in her body ached, she must have been tired, she couldn’t even remember the last time she slept like that. Slowly she stretched herself out getting a range of movement back in all her limbs. Pulling herself from the bed she stripped off the jeans and replaced them with sweatpants, and a loose t-shirt over her tank.

 

In the bathroom the harsh light made her like one of the dead herself. Purple bruises marked the space under her eyes. Her face was still hollow but she had put on more weight in the last few weeks. She looked tired, sleep didn’t always equal rest these days. Sighing, she tugged a hair tie off her wrist to pull her hair from her eyes.

In the kitchen she found Carol standing at her stove stirring something in a pot. Under her the floor squeaked as she stepped, Carol turned.

“Oh hi,” Carol glanced over her shoulder. “I wasn’t sure how long you would sleep for.”

For a split second she thought about turning around and heading back to her room. The guilt curled inside her gut, Carol was supposed to check in on her. She would have come to her house and found her missing. What might that have been like? Did she look for her, she wondered, turn Alexandria upside down in her search? She hadn’t even thought about Carol for one second, hadn’t thought about the people here who would have been keeping an eye on her. It was that train of thought that made her continue her walk into the kitchen.

Slipping into the stool beside the island she folded her arms resting them against the counter, watching, “How long?”

“Five hours maybe,” Carol answered spooning some soup into a bowl, placing it in front of her, and another for herself sitting across the island from the young woman. A few long moments of silence ticked by, as they both ate. “We’ll have to fight.”

“We always have to fight,” Pandora answered spooning some food into her mouth. “That’s just the way that it is now.”

It was the same with her still, every day she fought and again every night. Some nights when she woke up screaming covered in sweat she was sure she would be fighting her entire life. When Pandora looked up something flashed across Carol’s face, a pained look.

“I never thanked you for before, for saving this place.” A change in subject seemed like the right thing to do here. There was something about the talk of fighting that created a far off look in Carol’s eyes. Pandora looked away, she was not a fan of seeing some of her own traits reflected so clearly in others.

“I know Morgan tried to save one of them,” she was tripping over her thoughts now, thinking about them inside the walls always did that too her.  She had been holding this in for so long though, since Daryl had told her what Carol had done. No one else knew, he stressed that she had told him in confidence, and he had trusted Pandora with that secret. They had never had a moment alone to speak about it, until now.

“Daryl told me you killed him, that you knew he was a monster.” He was a monster she knew it, he was the monster who haunted her dreams almost every night. The monster who sometimes appeared to her in the daytime, his face replacing the faces of her friends. Voice nothing but a thin whisper now she went on. “He was a monster, Carol.”

She choked on the last word the woman’s name slipping from her mouth along with a quiet sob. Maybe she was still tired, maybe she had been holding this thank you in for too long. Maybe she would never know, sometimes the tears just came uninvited.

Had she ever really cried over what had happened to her? Sure, she had panicked, had flash backs, got lost in the memories when triggered but had she ever cried for what she had lost at their hands? She couldn’t be quite sure, but she was sure as hell crying now. Crying for everything that had been taken from her, the parts of herself she was sure she was never going to get back. Crying for the woman she had been before all this happened.

Carol was in front of her then, arms around her holding Pandora tight to her chest. At first the pressure made her stiffen, but Carol rubbed slow circles on her back making calming sounds.

“We protect our own Pandora, you are family.”

That only made her cry harder, salty tears soaking the Carol’s floral shirt. She didn’t seem to mind though, she held her even tighter still. It didn’t take long before the well of tears she had dried up. Still even after a few dry sobs spilled out, Carol held onto her. It wasn’t until her breathing had somewhat returned to normal that she let her go.

With her hands gripping her shoulders Carol pulled away, piercing blue eyes locked with her own.

“You understand why you can’t tell anyone about that?”

Pandora nodded. It had been hard to look at Denise the same way at first she began to think. She had tried to understand what would make Denise save someone like him, someone who had done that to her. Denise was a doctor though, she had to help everyone, even a monster like him.

“I won’t say anything.” She whispered.

“Good girl.” Carol was turning then collecting the empty bowl and cleaning the rest of the dishes she had made.

Pandora sat watching her, trying to take the image of the woman she saw here in the kitchen and imagine the woman who had dressed like a wolf and killed all of them. The two didn’t seem to match at all. The Carol in front of her humming and washing dishes in a floral print shirt didn’t seem like the woman who welded a knife with the skill to match Daryl.

When Carol was finished washing, Pandora slipped off her stool to dry and put them away. Together the kitchen was clean in no time.

“I should get going, get some things ready before tomorrow.”

“It’s tomorrow?” Pandora asked hands tightening into fists at her sides.

“Ya we leave in the morning.”

Nodding, Carol dried her hands on the dish towel before returning it. “He’s with Rick and everyone else, and the guy they brought back, Andy. They’re meeting in the new house on the next street.” Before Carol opened the front door, she turned again, “Do you need anything else before I go?”

“No, thank you for the soup.”

Nodding, the other women left shutting the door behind her. For a few long heartbeats she didn’t move, just stood there. Tomorrow, they were all leaving tomorrow. Fear crawled up inside her, making a home deep in her belly. A slight tremor ran up her arms, she was scared. No, that wasn’t the right word to describe the current storm in her head, she was terrified. She had seen Negan’s men, they were dangerous, they were cruel.

‘This group is dangerous; your people are dangerous,’ she thought to herself dimly.  Stepping towards the front window she looked outside, the sun was still high mid to late afternoon maybe, she really should get a watch.

Suddenly feeling the dirt of the day on her she headed for the shower and a fresh pair of clothes. Maybe it would help any panic she felt creeping up on her now. The bathroom was her favorite place, the only real place she always felt grounded.  In the bathroom she left the door unlocked, Daryl was sometimes known to panic when he didn’t see her the moment he stepped inside. Sometimes he would pop his head in the bathroom to make sure she was there.

Under the hot water of the shower everything relaxed, tension bleeding from inside her muscles washing down the drain with the water.  She took her time now in here, knowing his meeting would take long. Fingers working the shampoo through heavy brown locks, the act made her arms tired. Since she had come here her hair had grown out down to her mid back in loose waves. It was a very impractical length, but she wasn’t sure anyone here knew how to cut hair.  

When she had conditioned and rinsed her hair she stood in front of the mirror naked. Her frame was a sad thin skeleton of what she once remembered. The bruising and damage from her recent adventures were all but faded, leaving her caramel skin almost unmarked.  Dressed now in black tights and a long sleeved pink V-neck she made her way back into the bathroom to work on the mess that was her hair. In the mirror the changes in her face were always clear, she had rounded out, bags under her eyes slowly fading. The marks on her neck had healed some time ago, leaving no trace they were ever there.

In the living room she debated going out to find him. She was sure he would come back, he had to sleep at some point. Waiting she decided would be best, besides she wondered if Andy was still bitter about the kick to his ribs.

Curling up on the sofa she pulled the knit blanket over her legs and picked up the rape recovery book she had been reading. While she read, the sky changed colours outside going from blue to orange and deep purple with the setting of the sun. Four chapters later, the front door opened and the heavy foot falls gave way to who it was before he spoke.

“Pandora?” he stepped into the living room stopping at the door when he saw her.

“Hey,” closing the book she set it back on the small table in front of her. “Carol left you some soup in the fridge.”

Grunting something he turned, going to the kitchen she guessed. When he came back he held the plastic container and a spoon. Thankful he had taken off his boots before settling down on the couch beside her. Tucking her legs under herself she watched him, under five minutes the soup was gone and he was putting the now empty container back on the table.

“You good?” he asked leaning against the back of the sofa peering at her from the corner of his eyes.

“Ya, Carol was really nice.”

“Ya like her now?”

Sighing, Pandora shifted, balling the blanket up in her hands. “I didn’t really not like her, she was just I don’t know. It’s different now that I know her.”

Nodding, Daryl rubbed his hands over his face, closing his eyes for a long minute.

“She said you’re leaving tomorrow.”

At first the statement was met with silence, then he opened his eyes to look right at her.

“Yah, you comin’?”

Despite herself she laughed closing the distance between them curling next to him.

“I think I have had my share of adventure this week,” she muttered resting her head on his arm. Under her he shifted lifting his arm so that she was resting against his side, arm around her shoulders.

“Aight.”

They stayed like that for a while, Pandora tucked into his side leeching the warmth from his skin. It was so comfortable, he always had that effect on her. The stillness that always seemed to surround him made her feel calm.

“Ah should get some sleep before tomorrow.”

“I just got up. I wanted to go say goodbye to Tara.”

He chuckled before lifting himself from the sofa. “Stay up then, go see em.”

“Yes sir.” She laughed saluting him as he headed up to his room. When he disappeared from her sight she got up and headed towards Denise’s house.

Outside the front porch light was still on but the inside appeared dark. Pausing for a second she tried to peek inside, but she couldn’t see anything. Finally, she knocked gently, if they were awake they would hear it, if not it wouldn’t wake them.

The door opened just as she was about to turn away. Denise was there smiling like always.

“Everything ok?” she asked pushing her glasses up on the bridge of her nose.

“Ya I just wanted to say goodbye to Tara.”

The smile grew wider and Denise stepped aside letting her step in. Tara was in the living room laying back on the couch feet up on the coffee table.    

“Hey Pandora, we were just about to watch a movie, want to join us?” Tara moved the blankets that were resting on the space of the sofa beside her.

Unmoving in the opening of the room Pandora shook her head. “No, it’s ok, I just wanted to wish you luck.”

Denise came up behind her placing a bowl of popcorn and a mug of steaming hot chocolate in her hands.

“At least finish that before you go,” passing her Denise settled into the spot beside Tara throwing a blanket over their legs.

Brown eyes flickered down to the food in her hands, it would be such a shame to let it all go to waste. With slow movement, she slid down onto the sofa tucking her legs under her as she took a sip of the steaming mug. Warm chocolate liquid filled her mouth, eyes closing she savored it. Beside her she heard Tara chuckle lightly, opening one eye Pandora glared at her.

“What, no shame, hot chocolate is a premium item these days,” Tara said, the chuckle still clear in her voice. “Go ahead Denise we’re ready.”

“What are we watching?” Pandora asked in between mouthfuls of buttery popcorn.

“The first Avengers movie, newest one we have.”

Notes:

So what did you think? Let me know in the comments!

Chapter 23: The Domino Effect

Notes:

Surprise Monday post yo! Still reeling from the season finale over here don't know about you guys. I also realized I am a full season behind with this story and I want to catch up, so basically I'll be writing forever lol. Which I don't mind because I'm having a blast.
Trigger warning for this chapter for sure. Pandora dreams about her attackers things get a little detailed. You have been warned. Id love to hear what you think send me some love!

 

If she was honest with herself, the movie was too much for her. When they were midway through, all the different characters and action had made it too hard for her to concentrate. The bright lights, loud sounds and screaming was too much, it caused a pounding behind her eyes. So, she had spent most of the evening nursing her hot chocolate and trying to look like she was paying attention.

As the final credits rolled across the screen, Pandora hauled herself up and collected the dirty dishes to take them to the sink. Movement was better as it dulled the pounding in her skull and helped her concentrate. In the middle of washing, Denise appeared on the opposite side of the counter, leaning on her elbows watching her.

“Did you like the movie?” She asked, her tone causal and brows raised.

Pandora placed the last bowl into the drying rack and wiped her hands on the tea towel. “Ya, I thought it was good.” The lie was easy, easier than it should be considering this was her doctor she was talking to.

“I love Peggy, what about you? Bucky more your type?” A half smile played on Denise’s lips.

A hot flush crept up Pandora’s neck, making its way up to her face. She opened her mouth fully planning on having something to say but there was nothing. She couldn’t even picture the characters Denise had been talking about. She had been caught, anyone else would have let it slide but something in Denise’s face said she knew more than Pandora wished she did.

“You couldn’t watch it, could you?” Denise asked, the smile slipping from her face.

“No,” The one word answer came after a long pause. “I don’t know, it was hurting my eyes and my brain.”

“You may have a concussion; the effects can last a long time. Since we don’t watch many movies around here, it wasn’t noticeable.”

Pandora only sighed, rubbing her hands over eyes. Her hands shook as she pulled the hair from her eyes. She hated admitting that the film had been too much for her. It had left her with the same feeling she got in the real life sometimes when everything is too loud or too fast. She was tired of this, she just wanted to be better. Whatever the fuck better even looked like at this point. It was always something new, whether it be a physical injury or an emotional one.

Denise had slipped up beside her now to put a comforting hand on her shoulder, “Pandora, it’s ok you are doing great.”

Pandora only nodded, biting the inside of her cheek hard. Were all her emotions too plain on her face? Or was everyone here a mind reader? The room was too small, and she was done talking about how well she appeared to be. Turning, she withdrew back into the living room where Tara was still spread out on the sofa. Plopping herself down beside her, Pandora wrapped her arms around Tara’s shoulders to trap her in a bone crushing hug.

“Come back in one piece ok?” Pandora whispered, pressing her face into the hollow of the other woman’s neck.

Tara only laughed, wrapping her arms around her and matching the pressure of her hug. “Promise you watch out for my girl ok?”

Over the months, she had grown close to Tara as her easy-going personality and charm always seemed to have a calming effect on her. A few times she had been the only one who had been calm enough to help Pandora breathe through her panic attacks. In the days leading up to Tara leaving for the two-week run, Pandora had become increasingly stressed. She knew what was outside the walls, it was dangerous; everything that wasn’t within these walls was dangerous. Two people did not seem like enough to stay safe out there.

After a few silent moments of hugging, they separated.

“I’m coming back Pandora, I’m leaving something important behind.” Pandora watched Tara gaze over her shoulder.

Turning, she followed Tara’s gaze to Denise putting away the dishes in the kitchen. A small smile tugged at her lips, they were so perfect together. The way that Tara looked at Denise was something that wasn’t seen often these days.  

With a sigh, she hoisted herself up from the sofa, smoothing down her shirt, “I should go, Daryl might be worried.”

Tara turned back to her smiling, “I’ll see you in two weeks Pandora.”

Heading towards the door, Pandora found Denise already waiting for her holding it open. “Come and find me tomorrow afternoon, we will have a session.”

Pandora nodded and squeezed the others woman’s arm before turning and heading down the street. The moment the sound of the door clicked behind her she stopped mid step, titling her head up and breathing in deep and taking a lungful of the cool night air. Exhaustion pulled at the edges of her brain, thoughts becoming a slow jumbled mess. She would sleep tonight, but for how long? That was for the universe to decide.

At the end of the street near her house, the sounds of raised voices drew her attention so she moved in that direction.  Passing Rick’s house, all the lights were out and no sound was coming from inside. Beside Rick’s house was the one that Carol and Sasha shared, it was also silent but the front light was on. This struck her as odd, who was walking around out here in the middle of the night?

The answer to the question of who was yelling was answered when Abraham stormed out of his house. Before he closed the door, sounds of Rosita’s harsh raised voice drifted out into the night. She paused as she was mid-step, openly gaping at him.

“Abraham?” Her voice was quiet, as if being too loud could wake everyone.

He stopped just as he was halfway up the stairs to Sasha’s house with his hand reaching out to touch the door knob, “Go home kid,” he grunted before disappearing inside.

She didn’t right away, for a while she stood there trying to understand what might have happened. The cold, gruff tone of his voice was not one usually directed at her. All she had was snippets of information, not enough to form a whole picture. Maybe they got into a fight, Abraham and Rosita, she knew it happened sometimes, but why leave? And why to Sasha’s and not to Rick’s or to their house instead? She wanted to ask, wanted to knock on the door and demand an answer because unknowns did not sit well with her. Frustrated, she turned tugging tired legs up the front steps.  

Before she even opened the front door, she slipped her boots off and left them outside. No need to wake Daryl up with the sound of her heavy foot falls. Carefully, she opened the door only a crack, slipping inside a gap just wide enough to fit her frame. Hand on the door knob, she eased it open and closed it softly hearing the click behind her.

“You see him?"

Pandora jumped, hands fluttering up to her mouth to cut-off the sound of surprise. Blinking, she could see Daryl at the window dimly outlined by the light outside.  

“See who?”

“Abraham.” He said, rubbing his hand over his mouth before turning back to the window. She slipped up beside him, tucking her frame next to him.

“Ya, what happened?” She whispered, squinting her eyes to peer out into the dimly lit street.

“I dunno, shit ain’t settled.” Blue eyes glanced down at her, holding her eyes for a few seconds. “Come on, come to bed.”

“No.” She was cold suddenly, all too aware of what was waiting for her behind her closed lids. Despite the ache of exhaustion she was suddenly too scared to sleep. Nerves were strung up tight, she knew that alone with her thoughts was no place to be. She wondered if he could see it since after all this time he could read her like a book. He could read her better now with every day that passed, not that she was ever good at keeping her thoughts off her face.

“Come with me then,” When he looked down at her something flitted across his face, caution? Worry? She thought about arguing with him but the idea of his warm bed was a nice one. She hated sleeping alone, as fucked up as that was, alone in her bed everything seemed worse.

Daryl tugged her up the stairs, pulling her in the direction of his room. The sheets and blankets were already ruffed, he had already been in bed but the shouting must have woken him. Easing her down to sit on the edge, he started helping her out of her boots and sweater. The bed was still warm as she slipped under the covers and Daryl slipped in beside her. She turned, facing him.

Their eyes locked then, she felt the heat of his gaze mixing with the heat creeping up her neck. She could have sworn she saw him inch closer to her. Reaching out, she lay her open palm on his chest, his heartbeat steady under her hand. Staring down at her hand, the moment shattered and he turned to lay on his back, tucking his hands under his head. The silence stretched out around them, she thought he was falling asleep.

“Yah can come, stay in the RV to keep watch.” His voice was pitched low, cutting through the surrounding stillness.

In the darkness, she tried to make out the expression on his face to try to read the meaning in his words. But he had titled his face up, hiding it deeper in shadow.

“What if something happens?”

“Ah deal with it,” His answer was quick, as if it was so obvious that she shouldn’t even need to ask. “Ah don’t like leaving ya behind.”

Smiling into the darkness, she slipped up beside him, resting her head on his chest. “I’m working really hard at taking care of myself, but I always appreciate your concern.”

 His sigh vibrated deep in her bones, “Aight go to sleep then before Ah kick you outta my bed.”

Again, she smiled, making no move to answer she shut her eyes and started drifting off to sleep.

In the darkness of her dreams, her panic caught up with her, choking off her air and making it hard to think. At first, she was sure she was running since she felt it so clearly. Wind whipping past her face, bits of twigs and branches scratching her skin and sticking in her hair.

Then the scene was gone and there were hands on her legs, dirty fingers leaving streaks on her inner thighs. She tried to scream, but the darkness swallowed it. That didn’t stop her from trying to scream, legs kicking hard and connecting with soft flesh. Under her, she could feel the forest floor, pine needles and twigs digging into her skin. It was so real, everything felt so real, maybe this was real and everything else was the dream. It didn’t matter though since she fought like always. Pitching her body upwards, she kicked again, sending the form on top of her flying off, but there was more. There was always more. Hands holding her legs down now as she struggled, fingers pressed between her legs, blunt edges forcing themselves into her. Something snapped in her head and the scream she finally let out ripped past whatever had been holding her silent. Around her, the scream seemed to shatter the surrounding images, causing the scene of the dream to change.

It was dark and warmer now than it had been, but when she blinked she could see only darkness. A quick jerk of her legs proved that she was free to move them, but something held her arms pinned down over her head. Still screaming, she tried to pull away and tried to slip her wrists free from their hold.  

“Please, please, please.” She begged hysterically, shoving at the figure looming over her in the shadows. Pitching her small frame upwards, she tried to wiggle free to push against the hands on her wrists.

“Pandora! Pandora!” The figure above her called her name over and over. She didn’t stop though, couldn’t stop because if she stopped fighting that was the end. “It’s me! Pandora! It’s Daryl!”

He was shouting now, trying to make himself heard over her screaming. In a flash, he was off of her, light filling every dark corner of the room. The second the weight lifted, she was running or trying to run. The sheet caught on her foot, twisting it and sending her down to the floor face first.  It didn’t stop her frantic movements, pulling the blanket along with her, she tucked herself into a corner of the room.  Sobs shuttered through her, choking and gasping she pulled her knees to her chest.

In the light, everything made sense. In the light, she was in Alexandria in Daryl’s room with him trying to calm her down. In the light, she could understand the difference between her dreams and her reality, but in the dark, it had all been the same.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Her new mantra choked its way out through sobs.

The front door banged open, “Daryl?!” Rick’s shout from downstairs was laced with alarm.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry” Pandora continued to sob in the corner attempting to curl into herself.

“Fuck,” She had shut her eyes, but she listened to Daryl moving away from her and heading out of the room. “It’s aight, Pandora had a nightmare.”

Rick said something she didn’t catch next, Daryl replied but, again she didn’t hear it. The sound of her own sobbing filled the surrounding space. She twisted her fingers deep inside her wet locks, tugging until it hurt.  

Every day had been different, even better but every night seemed worse. She had nightmares all the time, but when she woke up and they were over she knew where she was. This time was different. She hadn’t known Daryl, he had worn the face of her rapists. A shudder ripped through her and she dug her nails into the sides of her legs, struggling for a sense of calm. It didn’t come. Instead, she sat curled into a ball in the corner until the sobs had died down.

“Bad one, like when Ah first found her.”

“Want me to get the Doc?”

“Naw Ah got it, thanks.”

“I can stay for a while if you need a hand.”

“Naw it's ok man get some sleep.” 

The rest of the conversation moved out of her range of hearing. How long she had stayed there, she wasn’t sure as she was lost somewhere in the tangled thoughts of her brain. She breathed in deeply, counting to five with each breath in and out. Daryl’s heavy foot falls sounded in the room again. Stiffening, she forced her eyes open to look at him.

“Hey,” He eased down in front of her, kneeling with his palms out in front of him. “Lemme help you up.”

He reached for her then, grip tight on her shoulder to pull her into a standing position before lowering her back down onto the side of the bed. Every nerve on fire, limbs refusing to respond to even her most basic command. She tried to get her legs to move, tried to lift them up onto the bed, but as she stared down at them they didn’t move.

“Pan?” Daryl’s voice sounded out, cutting through her fog.

When she looked up, he was standing in front of her holding a mug of steaming liquid.

“Here, drink.”

He held the mug out in front of her, blinking, she lifted her hands to take it. Finally, they answered her demand for movement this time. It smelled like green tea and she really did want it, but trying to get her hands to work with her brain past holding the mug wasn’t really happening.

Daryl must have noticed her struggle because he reached over and took it from her, placing it on the small table beside the bed. Wistfully, she eyed the warm drink missing the solid warmth in her hands.

Glancing up at him, she noticed the fleck of dried blood under his nose. Now her hands moved of their own accord, reaching out to wipe the dried bit away, thumb tracing his chin. His mouth was moving she was sure of it, but nothing seemed to reach her ears. Head titled to the side, she watched him talk to try to make out the words.

“Daryl,” She whispered, tears pooling in her vision again creating warm hot tracks down her cheeks. “I’m sorry.”

His eyes were hard then, mouth drawn into a thin line. In the next moment, he was on the bed beside her, pulling her into him in a tight hold. For a second, her whole body went stiff with the contact, but it was Daryl and in the light, he no longer wore the faces of rapists.

“Ain’t your fault ya know that, Ah know that.” His words reached her now, pressure from the hug grounded her, keeping her present.

“I saw them, it was you but I saw them.”

“Ah know.”

He didn’t let her go and she didn’t mind either as she was still on edge. He kept talking to her though most of it she didn’t comprehend it all, she let the rumble of his voice calm her down. What calm even looked like after something like that she wasn’t sure, she would settle with just not crying.

When her tears stopped, the sun was peeking through the clouds outside. It was morning. They had sat like that for the rest of the night. Her curled into his side with his arms around her. Her mind still wandered, somewhat in quick flashes with images from the nightmares playing behind her eyes. The pressure and warmth of Daryl beside her reminded her where she was. She turned her head to glance out the window, morning light was streaking the sky above them.

“Yah wanna talk?” He muttered into the side of her head. He must have taken her movement as an indication that she was ready for conversation.  

Against him, she shook her head as she was unable to find the right words, instead absently playing with the helm of his shirt. Everything was still too jumbled, still too fresh. She wasn’t ready to tell him about the nightmares, tell him how real it felt.

“Yah gonna try to sleep again?”

His question was met with another shake of her head, he sighed, arms tightening around her for a moment. Downstairs, the front door opened and someone started stepping inside.

“Daryl? Pandora?” Carol’s voice floated up from the main level of the house.

His grip relaxed, arms falling away as he stood leaving her sitting alone in the bed. Hearing him descend the stairs, she silently moved to the door. Had everyone in Alexandria heard her screaming last night? Her answer came in the hushed voices from her kitchen.

“Did you sleep?”

There is the sound of movement in the kitchen, the opening of drawers, the sound of plates. Pandora slipped behind the door, peering out of the crack but she couldn’t make them out. Their voices did reach her from where she hid though, despite being tucked away.

“Some, yah, been up since she got up.”

“It was bad?”

His sigh sounded all the way upstairs, heavy and tired. She imagined him running his hands over his face, his classic gesture.

“Bad like before, when Ah first brought her here. She wasn’t really awake, thought I was them. Got me good in the face.”

“Let me take a look.”

There was the sounds of bodies moving, fabric against skin, shoes against the floor. Closing her eyes, she tried to picture what they were doing. They were quiet now though, conversation dying away as Carol inspected his face she guessed. She pictures Carol cleaning the rest of the dried blood from Daryl’s face.

“What are you going to do?”

“Bout what?”

“About today, are you going to go or stay back?”

Her heart tightened painfully in her chest, she longed to ask him to stay. Call it selfish, she didn’t give a shit; she wanted him here with her. Out there, out there was dangerous. Rationally, she knew it was for the greater good. These men, these saviours were dangerous, she had seen it first hand as they almost killed her. Still, she struggled with the idea of letting him go out there after them. She struggled with anyone leaving these walls, be it Daryl, Tara, or Rick.  

“Naw Ah gotta go, gotta see this through.”

Her shoulders slumped slightly. She turned, heading out of the room into the hallway she looked over the railing catching Daryl’s eyes. His gaze stopped her, freezing her in the spot for a few long seconds. He was sitting on the stool, Carol at the sink rinsing a cloth. He opened his mouth like he was about to speak, but she turned away to head for the bathroom, shutting the door.

Back pressed against the door, she allowed herself a moment to mourn the death of her fantasy of him staying behind. Then, she was moving slow, lumbering steps to the shower in hopes of washing any traces of her nightmares away.

The mirror over the sink caught her eye as she passed, turning, she stared at her reflection. Light purple bruising marked the space under her eyes, the whites of her eyes were blood shot. Reaching out, she lay her hand against the cold glass of the mirror. Once she had been a pretty young woman with a full life and a bright future, and now what was she? A hollow shell of her former self, maybe not even a shell, she didn’t even resemble anything she used to be.

‘More sleep would help.’ She thought, leaning into her reflection. Her skin was a paler wash then usual. She ran her fingers over her reflection before letting them fall away.

“Shower.” She told herself out-loud, like delivering the instructions would help. It did a little as she was on auto pilot moving through her shower. The water didn’t quite bring the sense of calm she was looking for. It only served as a reminder of her nightmares, each drop of water like fingers against her skin. She rushed out, grateful for it to be over.

The towel she found was huge, falling all the way down past her knees. It was a good thing because the moment she stepped out of the washroom, Daryl was there, leaning against the door with his arms crossed over his chest. Stopping, she turned, eyes on the floor and fingers a death grip on the towel.

“Carol brought food, come eat before Ah go.”

Nodding, she rushed off to her room shutting the door behind her. They would have to talk about last night at some point. Thinking about it made her want to curl back underneath the blanket. Her nightmares hadn’t been that bad in a long time, not since the first month. She had been here for almost six now if she was counting right, it should be better by now.

It would come up in therapy she thought as she pulled a pair of leggings from her drawer. Dressed, she tied her hair in a thick braid that hung dripping down her back. She didn’t bother with the mirror as she turned to leave, hating her reflection these days anyway.

In the kitchen, Daryl sat at the island with two steaming plates. Sliding onto the stool beside him, she picked up the fork and began eating, couldn’t talk if your mouth was full. Daryl followed suit and for a few minutes they ate together in silence.

“When do you leave?”

“Soon” He answered, taking her now empty plate to the sink.

 She had eaten fast, it had been a long time since she had something that good. Mixed fresh veggies with eggs, Carol must have brought it over when she had been here before.

“About last night,” She muttered, a few strands of hair escaped her braid falling over her eyes.

“Go see the Doc ok?” He was beside her then, a heavy hand falling on her shoulder.

Reaching up, she placed her hand over his, resting her head against his arm. Hot tears pooled in her eyes threatening to spill over onto her cheeks. A slight tremble had made its home in her shoulders.

Daryl must have felt it too, leaning over, he wrapped both arms around her now. She eased her head back on his shoulder as the tears came spilling down her cheeks onto her shirt. Everything was too much. Too new, too many people for her to cope with. Her world was changing too fast, and she was left running to catch up.

“Ahm coming back, right? I always do.”

It was suddenly so clear it shocked her, “This is going to change everything.” The words were whispered, voice pitched low.

Daryl only chuckled, holding her just a bit tighter, “This ain’t gonna change shit, you’ll see.”

She lay both her hands over his, turning to hide her face in his vest. They stayed like that until a knock on the door came, startling them both and shocking them away from each other.  

“Daryl?” Rick’s voice sounded from the other side of the front door.

“Yah come on in.” Daryl was moving away from her before Rick stepped in. He moved around the house then, collecting his bow from the living room and gun from where he left it on the coffee table. Hurrying, she wiped the wet tracks off her cheeks with the back of her hand. Not that it mattered, everyone here knew she was a fucking mess at the best of times.

Rick stepped in the front hallway ready to go, “We’re moving out, you ready?”

“Yah man, let’s go.”

Pandora stood, pushing the stool back in. Rick stepped into the kitchen eyeing her.

“Rick?” She asked, titling her head to the side and eyeing him right back.

“Ya?”

“Thank you for coming to check on me last night.” Her fingers were in her hair again, twisting the loose strands.

“It’s what we do.” He answered, a hint of a smile on his lips.

His smile was like an infection as she smiled back him, a small one, but it was there tugging at her lips.

“Come back in one piece.”

Rick laughed, “We always do.”

She stood on the front porch, cigarette hanging from her lips to watch them pile into different cars. That feeling of hopelessness stayed with her though, dread curling in the pit of her stomach. Daryl cast one more look at her before getting into a car with Carol.

Turning away, she put the cigarette out and went to find Denise. 

Notes:

Phew that was a long one! As always thanks to my Beta reader for putting up with me. Seriously she is amazing guys!!!

Chapter 24: Returned

Notes:

Heyyyy Maybe two weeks is my new thing? I was writing a chapter a week but now I'm slowing down a bit. I still have a few more chapters ready to go but still I'm closing in on myself! Here is our next instalment in our story. Hope you enjoy. As always let me know what you think. Find me on tumblr at http://mytinykisses.tumblr.com/

Chapter 24

Denise was in medical like always, but the moment Pandora stepped through the door they continued into a more private room. Denise sat down in the plusher of the two chairs while Pandora lowered herself into the other one. This room felt warmer than the one they had just been in, Pandora found herself uncoiling some of her tight muscles.

“I’m sure everyone heard me lose my shit last.” Pandore commented off handedly fingers twisting in her loose waves.

Denise only opened her little notebook and got out her pen, “Why don’t you tell me what happened?”

Pandora shifted, tucking her legs under herself and hands curling around themselves in worried motions. “I woke up from a nightmare, only I didn’t know I was awake so I thought Daryl…” She stopped, letting the end of the sentence fall away. “I thought he was them…”
She kept her eyes down though, unable to meet the eyes of the other woman. Her nails bit into the soft flesh of her palms, tiny lightning bolts of pain keeping her grounded.  Saying those words out loud were a trigger, in her mind’s eye she could see the woods now. She remembered how hard she had fought against him having no idea who he was.

 

“Pandora? You’ve been stressed these days, huh?”
Pandora only nodded, tucking the loose bits of hair behind her ears. Stressed didn’t begin to describe it really. The two-week run Tara was leaving on had been planned for a while and the anxiety had gone up every day. The trip to Hilltop had been what started her on this slope.

“Pandora things change sometimes, it’s a part of life.”
Denise’s voice stopped the train of thought before she got too deep into it. The other woman was leaning forward, elbows resting on her knees. Pandora wasn’t even sure what to say to her, she couldn’t explain what she was feeling inside right now. How does someone put that feeling of dread into words. She felt as if she was standing right on the edge of some new discovery some new event and she was terrified. That sounded crazy though, crazier than she usually sounded.

“I just know what’s out there” She whispered. “It’s not safe whenever anyone leaves, it bothers me.”

Denise nodded, pen scratching against paper. “How could you feel better?”
Pandora thought about it, how could she feel better? Her mind wandered back to the training with Rosita that had helped her feel more in control.  Then the feeling of the gun in her hands, the cold metal against her fingertips.

“Defending myself, or knowing how to. That helps.”

“Good then we will get you to do more of that.” The Doctor’s smile was somewhat dazzling.

They talked for a while longer, Denise explaining that generalized anxiety was very common in individuals with PTSD. They talked about the scale system that had fallen to the side in the last few weeks or so. How she needed to start using it again to help everyone understand what she was going through.

When they were finished, Pandora headed back to the house but she didn’t plan to be there for long. Bounding up to her room, she changed into something she could work out in. It was a nice day, better to spend it outside getting a workout than inside worrying about when they would come back. Hair pulled up into a tight bun she went back outside in black tights and a green t-shirt hanging loose around her frame. Denise had said if it makes her feel better to do it, this would make her feel better. Pandora was almost sure Denise hadn't meant for her to work out right now, but she didn't care.

She started with a run around Alexandria, the burning in her lungs was becoming an old friend now. It only pushed her to go faster to see how far she could make it before she needed to stop. This time, her need to stop came after a lot longer but it had her bending over and holding her sides, struggling to pull in enough breath.

“Pandora?”

A voice had her raising arms from where they were still wrapped around her middle. Carl stood in front of her, Judith in the stroller in front of him.

“Hey Carl, Judith!” She was still gasping slightly, breathing a little ragged.

“Are you ok?” He was watching her with a hesitant expression on his face.

“Ya, I was running. Stopped to catch my breath.”

She smiled at him, leaning down to pat Judith on the head the little girl cooed at her, reaching chubby fingers out towards her.

Glancing up at Carl, she flashed him a half smile Judith still holding a death grip on her fingers. “I have to keep busy.” She volunteered offhandedly.

The boy only nodded, eyes locked on hers. He understood, she wasn’t sure how, but something in her eyes told her he knew what she was talking about.

“Anyway, I’ll see you later ok?”

She was gone then, pulling her finger from Judith and heading back down the street at a jog. She didn’t stop though, in their small private yard she worked the rest of her body. Push ups, squats, lunges, she did every exercise she could think of until she found herself dry heaving into the dying grass.

Rolling over onto her side, she lay panting in the grass with her eyes closed. Everything burned, everything ached. It didn’t matter though, every day was better and every day she could do more to push herself further. Whatever happened in her nightmares would never be her reality again.

She lay there until her muscles began to cramp from lack of use and her stomach screamed out for something to eat. Only then did she peel herself up from the ground and head back inside. Above her the sky was beginning to go dark.

In the kitchen, she found herself looking through the cupboard. There wasn’t much in there, she really needed to make a trip to the pantry and pick something up. She found a box of Kraft dinner and some tuna in the cupboards, she decided that they were going to have to do.

When her steaming, hot bowl of Kraft dinner was made she turned in a circle around the kitchen. Right, she was alone tonight. For a second she wasn’t sure what to do with herself. The smell of the food and the growling in her stomach reminded her that she needed to eat.

Body sinking into the sofa, she ate by the light of the small side table lamp. It was unsettling being in the house alone. Everyone she would have gone to for company was gone. She tried thinking of who hadn’t gone, she knew Carl and Judith were a few houses down from her but that was it, the rest of her group was gone off on the same mission.

Washing the dishes, she looked outside. It was dark now, she had spent more time than she thought working out in the backyard.

“Tomorrow,” She said out loud to herself. “They will be back tomorrow.”

Alone with nothing else to do, she found herself in the bathroom shower, the water working to ease out the tightness in her muscles. Out, dried and dressed in a tank top and shorts, she slipped into bed hoping her mind and body were too tired to dream.

When she stirs, light streams into her room cutting through the darkness behind her lids. She knew that she had been right. She raises her arms over her head working out the knots that formed overnight. It was nice to get up and feel like she had rested for once. Rolling onto her side, she peered out the window to listen to the sounds of the morning.

The growling in her stomach was what finally forced her out of bed. Now that she didn’t spend so much time in her own head, her body was rather demanding. She found getting dressed hard, pulling on her pants was a nightmare with the tightness in her legs. She slipped a deep blue tank top over her sports bar, a t-shirt over that and a zip-up on top of that. She found herself wearing more clothes than she usually did as it stopped anyone from looking at her thin frame for too long.

When she headed into the kitchen, she ran the plan of the day over in her head. She had planned it beforehand as it helped her stay calm. She would eat first, clean up after, then sit at the watch tower until they all came back. It may seem like that second part was the hardest, the waiting, but it was what she needed to do first that proved to be the hardest. The watch tower called to her almost louder than the need for food called to her.

Standing in the kitchen, she had made the perfect choice: eating on the run. With two protein bars, an apple and a few peaches shoved in a bag on her back, she headed for her favorite place to watch. It was always the guard tower right at the gate where she liked to go. When she got  there, Holly was standing watch with a gun over her shoulder.

They nodded a good morning to each other as she climbed over the railing of the lookout and went to sit on the wall itself. Flipping the bag over to the front of her chest, she pulled out her on-the-run breakfast and dug in. At least when they came back she would be able to say she had done a great job at taking care of herself.

Hours passed, she was sure of it as the sun had moved to a mid-way point in the sky before she saw the first car. Shielding her eyes from the sun, she tried to see what was making all the noise. Behind the line of returning vehicles she saw the source of the sound, Daryl bringing up the rear on his bike.

She was down off the wall in seconds. This time, she went right off the front by tucking and rolling to land on her feet on the outside of the wall. The bag had moved back to her back now and she was running for him. She caught a few looks from the people in the car but no one stopped her, they knew better then that.

The moment he saw her he stopped, putting his feet down and leaning the bike on the kick stand. He was stopped and she was slipping up on the back of the bike with her frame pressed to him tightly.

“Take me for a ride?” She whispered in his ear, wrapping her arms around his middle.

He didn’t answer, only kicked the kick-stand up and started the bike again. He turned around, leaving the line of cars entering Alexandra behind them. The speed picked up around them and the once nicely formed trees were now green blurs moving past her. Her arms tightened around him as the speed increased. She didn’t even have time to wonder where he might be taking her, they were just gone. Ripping past homes until there was almost nothing but forest around them.

After what felt like a long time, she felt the rumble of the bike slow under her and before she knew it, they were stopped and he was helping her off the bike. Her arms were tight around him the second her feet touched the ground. He held her back just as tightly, if not tighter. She could swear she felt a slight shake in his shoulders as he pressed himself against her.

“It’s over?” She questioned, leaning her head back enough to speak. It didn’t last long as he was holding her close again.

“Yah it’s done.”

Despite the warmth that being enclosed in his arms provided, she pulled away to put her hands on his upper arms and look at him. There was something wrong, something different on his face. She was frantic for a second, eyes searching him for a sign of anything she might have missed.

“What happened?” Voice pitched high with panic, she ran her arms over his arms and chest. “Were you bit? Was someone hurt?”

“No, no.” His hands found her wrists, stopping the exploration she was taking of his body. “Nothing like that, Pan.”

“Then what?”

He made a noise somewhere between a sigh and a grunt before reaching into his back pocket for his pack of cigarettes. Sticking two in his mouth, he lit them both, handing the second one to her without asking. Taking a long drag, she watched him ease himself down onto the grass at the side of the road. Shifting her weight from one foot to the other, she finally joined him on the ground.

Low-level anxiety thrummed through her now, they were outside just sitting in the open. Flicking the end of her cigarette, her other hand ran over the handle on her knife that now never left her belt.

“We got in, cleared it out, no one got hurt,” Daryl muttered, eyes staring off into the distance. “We were about to head home then some asshole tried to get away on my fucking bike. Ah stopped him, then someone called on the radio he had.”

Pandora glanced over at him from the corner of her eye, she could see the torment on his face. Daryl usually wasn’t so easy to read, but today he was an open book.

“They had Carol and Maggie, some other assholes had found them before we got back.”

Understanding dawned on her then, they had taken Carol, that was why he was so worked up. In the last few days, there had been something different about Carol. She had become withdrawn, stopping by from time to time with food but never staying long. Leaning over, she flicked the ash off the end of her cigarette and rested her head on his shoulder. Her head was met with tightly coiled muscles ready to spring.

“They left a trail, Ah found them but by the time we got there Maggie and Carol had killed them all.” He stopped then to flick the cigarette across the road, a slight tremble in his fingers. “Its changing her, this world.”

Sighing, she pressed herself closer to him snaking her arm around his waist. She knew what he was talking about, she had seen something different in Carol’s eyes too. When they had talked a few days ago in the kitchen she had seen that far away look in Carol’s eyes.

“Ya, I’ve seen it.” She finally answered, head still pressed against him.

“Ah don’t know what to say to her, how to help.” His arm came around her then, warmth rolling off him in waves.

Pandora took a few seconds to enjoy the moment between them before answering. With a deep breath she said “Maybe she needs time, this world is hard.”

“She knows that!” He snapped and shut his eyes then, pinching the bridge of his nose hard.

“You can’t save everyone.” She whispered.

Beside her, Daryl only grunted and shifted just out of her view. Then he produced two more cigarettes and lit them, he was handing her one before she could say anything. They finished them together, each taking long, slow drags.

Pandora tilted her head up to stare at the mid-afternoon sky. It was warmer than she thought it was going to be as the sun was shining down and warming her skin. She was outside the walls. The excitement in seeing Daryl and the panic in thinking someone had been hurt hadn’t allowed her time to panic about where she was. Oddly, the memories of her morning workouts and training with Rosita gave her a measure of comfort.

“What number?” His voice was gruff, emotions thinly controlled.

“Two.” The number gives her a pause, she can’t remember the last time she had felt a two. Not outside of the walls that was for sure, but now sitting here, she felt nothing but calm.

Daryl’s answer was more of a sound rather than a word, but she didn’t mind since she knew what he meant. They sat there for a long time, silence stretching out around them. He still felt so stiff against her, she wanted to soften it so she tried to press herself closer. He was unresponsive and made no move to soften his edges.

“What else?” She asked, fingers tapping his arm lightly. At first it didn’t seem like he heard her but when her nails brushed the exposed skin of his wrist she watched him turn. His face was hard, mouth pressed into a thin line and eyes fixing on hers. Something shifted deep in her gut uncoiling and taking root somewhere inside her. Her fingers drew circles on the little patch of exposed skin she had found on his wrist.

“Yah would’ve been in the RV.” His voice was low as he said this. “When those motherfuckers rolled up on them you would have been in there, because Ah asked you to. They would have got yah, because of me.”

The revelation turned around in her brain, she tried to picture what might have happened then, tried to picture herself there. She couldn’t though, every time she tried, images of her waiting in Alexandria cut through. Sighing, she flicked her cigarette away since it had gone out a long time ago.

“I wasn’t there,” Sitting on her knees now she went behind him to put her head lightly on his shoulder blade. “I was waiting as safe as I could be inside the walls.” Turning her head, she pressed her lips against his vest, breathing in the deep scent of him: smoke, motor oil and blood. “You can’t blame yourself for something that didn’t even happen.”

“Ah was just thinking is all, it would have been mah fault.”

Unsure of how to answer him, she settled for tightening her arms around him. He reached up, placing his big hands over hers and sighed. She was warm again, not just on the outside from the heat that always seemed to come from within him but inside herself. A feeling bloomed in her chest as she lay her head to the side, ear pressed against his shoulder to listen to his heartbeat. It was while she was counting to the rhythm of his beat that he spoke.

“We should go back, don’t want the others to worry.”

Sighing, she knew he was right.  This moment seemed to perfect to end it she longed to stay right here. But, she thought about Carol, thought about the battles Carol was having in her head, and felt bad for keeping Daryl from her. Letting her arms fall away, she paused for a moment before she stood and started heading towards where they had left the bike. With her small frame and keen sense of balance she could get onto the back seat without the bike so much as quivering.

Daryl eyed her through the tiny slits of his eyes then got into the front seat and started it. Her fingers moved over the cool leather of the seat under her, she really had grown to like the rides they had begun taking again. Never too far, just a few minutes outside the gate and coming back. When he lost the bike, she had been in no shape to leave the walls but now everything was better.

Now, the feeling of the wind whipping past her was grounding. It was reminding her that she was here in this moment, rather than stuck in the past. As they rolled past the gates into Alexandria, Pandora leaned over Daryl’s shoulder to whisper in his ear.

“Go check on Carol, I’ll make dinner.”  She hopped off the bike before he could answer and headed right to the pantry. Despite all the time she had spent here, she had only come in a handful of times as all her neighbors were good at making sure they both stayed fed.

The door was open and Olivia was standing inside counting the new stuff they had brought in.

“Grab a basket and take what you need, you’re long overdue for a trip!”

Pandora only nodded, grabbing a basket and beginning to wander through the shelves. When she was done, she had some powdered milk, a box of cereal, trail mix, packages of miso soup and a handful of fresh veggies. As she was in the last aisle debating over an item, Olivia steps into her space.

“Come back whenever you need anything else ok?”

Pandora only nodded, slipping the box of granola bars in her basket before heading out.

It took no time to unload the stuff she had just gotten as they had a pretty bare kitchen. She went to work right away on dinner, heating the soup and starting the veggies. By the time Daryl came home, the big pot of vegetable miso soup was ready to eat. Not speaking, he lowered himself into one of the stools across from the stove.

Pandora already had a full bowl in hand by the time he was done getting comfortable. Taking her own bowl, she sat beside him.

“Hi,” She whispered around the spoon in the mouth.

Daryl hunched over the bowl and looked up at her with his spoon halfway to his mouth. She couldn’t help but smile at him and the sweet tired lines of his face. Still grinning, she went back to her own bowl. Two spoonfuls later he spoke to her.

“Ah checked on her.”

“And?”

“She says she’s alright.”

But he knows that she isn’t, that part is left hanging unsaid between them. Shifting, she keeps her eyes down on the bowl. She had seen Carol’s face when they had come back, she knew the other woman wasn’t okay. For now, that conversation took a backseat as they ate with their eyes down on their bowls.

“I’m glad you’re all back safe.” She finally whispered, spoon hitting the now empty bowl in front of her.

That got his attention. Looking up, the edge of his mouth turned up in a small smile. “Ah always come back.”

She took his bowl and her own to the sink. He was beside her though, pushing her to the side and turning the water on himself to wash the dishes.

“You don’t have to I can do it.”

“Nah Ahm good. Go to the sofa.”

Doing as she was told, she curled under the heavy blanket in the corner of the couch. In the kitchen, she heard him turning off the water and then he was sitting down beside her. His arm bumped her shoulder and she flinched slightly. He was so in tune with her that he was turning right away, pulling up her sleeve to check the area he had just hit. Along the top of her arm ran a dark purple bruise.

“The hell is this?” His voice had a sharp edge.

Shrugging him off her, she pulled her sleeve back down, “I was working out it must have happened then. Doc said if it helps, I should do it.” She stretched her arm out in front of her to tighten her fingers into a fist. “Being strong helps me feel better.”

He snorts, but starts to tell her more about the day then. About the things they had found in the base and how they were going to use it. They had quite a few guns so they would get added to the store they had now, the food would be taken into the pantry and used for everyone. Some time during his story she felt herself drifting off.

The next thing she remembered, she was being lifted gently and placed under warm covers. Blinking, she tried to clear the sleep from her eyes to see where she was.

“Go to sleep.” Someone is surrounding her, Daryl, his smell in the sheets and the warmth coming from his body. With a long deep sigh, she curls closer to him and drifts away.

Chapter 25: On the Mend

 

The next morning found them both in a tangle of limbs and sheets. Every moment, waking or sleeping, she found herself seeking his warmth. The sunlight started shining right into her eyes, leaving her sighing and turning deeper into his chest. She liked to pretend she didn’t know what she was doing, like maybe if he thought she was still sleeping he wouldn't mind her curling into him. He didn’t seem to mind at all, beside her he was still breathing deep and even.

Somewhere in the back of her mind she wandered where the line was drawn in their odd relationship. She slept in his bed, so what restrictions there were, if any, was unclear. She fit right into him with her tiny frame tucked under his arm. Her head rested on the mattress, inches from his chest. Fingers clutched the blanket over her, pulling it tighter against her frame. Her muscles screamed in protest at even the slightest movement she made.  The motion brought her fingers dangerously close to his chest, one inch closer and she would have brushed him. Hard muscle against the cool tips of her fingers. She considered it, if only for a second, she wondered what he would do. Slowly, her fingers crept towards him, but she stopped just short of his chest.

Since her face was so close she picked up the change in his breathing that meant he was already awake. Blinking a few times, she opened her eyes but refused to move. She was too warm, too relaxed and too interested by the thoughts of running her hands along his chest. The night had passed with no episodes, no waking up screaming, nothing. There had been flashes of nightmares, but they had easily slipped away. Daryl moved beside her so she pulled the covers over her head, turning away from him and curling back into a ball.

“Mornin’” His deep rumble found her where she was hiding under blankets.

“No.” She mumbled. Every part of her body hurt, even her toes. How they hurt, she had no idea, but they did. Maybe she had overdone it the other day, maybe she was dying. Dying sounded like it might be possible from the sheer amount of pain she was in.

“Yah ain’t hungry?” He asked. The mattress dipped under his movement and she took the chance to peek out from under the blanket only to see him turning from his side to his back.

“No.” It was a lie. She was sure he heard it in her voice, but the thought of getting out of this bed, even to eat was too painful.

“You sure?”

“Everything hurts.” She whined into the darkness that she had created under his blankets. Body twisting, she felt the tightness in her legs and back.

Downstairs, a pounding on the door had her poking her head out from under the blankets again. Beside her, Daryl got up and got dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt before he moved to find out who was there. Pandora refused to move, besides it was probably for him anyway. Pulling the blankets back over her head, she hunkered back down into the warm darkness.

“Rosita hey,” That surprised her, so she eased herself out from under the blankets to stand at the open door.  The top floor had a small space that was open to below from the bedroom so you could look right down at the front entrance.

“I’m here for Pandora.” Rosita was moving now, Pandora watched her coming to the bottom of the steps. She tried to step back into the bedroom, but she was too slow. “I can see you there, let’s go.”

Pandora stepped out of the doorway dressed in a pair of shorts and tank top, “I haven’t eaten yet.”

“Whose fault is that?” The smaller woman snapped, hand on her hip. Her tone was light, but there was some underlying tension in her voice. “Eat and meet me by the solar panels in a half-hour.”

Turning to Daryl, Rosita flashed him a wicked smile, “I’ll turn her into a fighter yet.” With that, she left, shutting the door with a little more force than Pandora deemed necessary.

“Fuck.” Pandora muttered under her breath as she lumbered back to her own room to get dressed. Standing at her dresser, she tried to find something that she could wear to get her ass kicked. There was no doubt in her mind that she was going to get her ass handed to her. Whatever happened last night had Rosita on edge, no way Pandora was getting off easy today.

She finally found of pair of green fitted pants, a type of spandex material she was almost surel. She found a long-sleeved shirt too, one that would cover the darkening bruise on her upper arm from the other day. Finally, she pulled a brush through her hair, collecting it all into a bun on the top of her head. Every movement was painful, every lift of her arm and motion of her leg sent tugging pains through her.

Down in the kitchen Daryl was frying some eggs in a pan, two plates piled with mixed veggies on the counter was waiting for her when she came down. Pandora didn’t sit, fearing she might not get up again. Instead, she tried to stretch out her muscles while she waited. Reaching down, she touched her toes and started wiggling them in the process.

“You know,” She commented to his turned back, lunging deep in a warrior stretch in the kitchen. “If you didn’t think it was a good idea for me to train today you could say so.”

At the stove Daryl laughed, shaking his head, “Naw you did this to yourself, you live with it.”

“Fine,” She huffed, reaching up and stretching her arms above her head. With every stretch, the pain lessened so she pushed herself to stretch a little harder. “If I die today, I hope you feel really bad.”

Another snort as he slid an egg onto one of the plates before handing it to her, “Shut up and eat.”

Groaning, she ate standing, downing the bottle of water he put in front of her. It was good, she mused, wondering if he made this hash on his own too. Though she doubted it. Just because he could hunt like no one else in Alexandria, cooking was not his strength. Finishing, she moved to the sink to get started cleaning up. He was already done just as quickly, side-stepping around her to get in front of the sink.

“Go on, Ah’ll wash up.” He looked at her through the strands of hair in his eyes. “Ride with me later?”

“Sure, if I’m not dead.” She replied, giving his arm a light squeeze. She would be lying if she said she hadn’t thought of leaning over and placing a kiss on his cheek, just to show him how glad she was he came back. The moment played behind her eyes too. How she would slide up beside him, palm flat on his chest and pressing a kiss to his cheek. In the next heartbeat the moment was gone and she was back standing there in the kitchen, unmoving. Daryl cleared his throat, drawing her attention back up to his face which was what got her moving again out the door.

Rosita was waiting just where she said she would be waiting, by the solar panels. On the ground in front of her, two long knives lay in the grass. When Pandora saw them, she stopped. Weapons training was not something she thought would be happening.

“Um, knives?” She asked, touching the one closest to her with the toe of her shoe. Wolves always had knives, little knives for leaving tiny cuts on flesh and big ones for killing. A phantom blade ran itself along her hip bone, she shivered. Shaking fingers brushed the spot, feeling for the scar that she was sure still lingered there.

“You want to stop feeling like a victim, you learn how to fight.”

That made Pandora stiffen slightly. Weapons were something she had already had some experience with. Being in the army, her Dad had always made sure that they could shoot so her aim was great. When shit hit the fan, he had given them knives. She could see it now, almost like she was there: her dad banging against the car to draw the dead, calling out instructions as she and her sister chopped through rotted skulls.

What would he think if he could see her now, broken and unwilling to even step outside most of the time . Would he think she was weak? Would he scoff and tell her to get a grip? Part of her imagined he would. She imagined he would sit her down and tell her that enough was enough, if she didn’t take control now then she was better off walking into the woods. Harsh love was always his thing.

“Pandora?” Rosita was in front of her, snapping her fingers in fine tuned impatience. “You keep zoning out like that you’re gonna end up dead.”

Rolling her eyes, Pandora jumped at the other woman, catching her off guard and knocking her feet out from under her. Rosita lay on her back whooping with laugher. The morning continued a little different, she didn’t get the upper hand on Rosita often. Her body screamed at her with every movement which Rosita noticed, but refused to slow her pace. A few times Pandora came out ahead, using her agility to get out of holds and locks. They had worked with the weapons too, but Pandora wasn’t bad with weapons, hand to hand was her problem.

By the end of the session they both lay in the soft grass gasping for air. Blood from her nose was drying under the sun, she hadn’t been fast enough when Rosita had delivered a punch. She hadn’t minded the pain in her face as it was blocking out the pain in the rest of her body, so that was good.

“You got better already.” Rosita commented, turning her head to the side to look at her.

“That’s good, at least one thing is getting better.” Her arm covered her eyes now, shielding them from the rays of the sun. It was warmer now, sun tickling the patches of exposed skin.

“I heard about the other night.”

Pandora laughed suddenly then, stopping to groan and hold her sides from the pain that laughing caused. “You heard about it, or you heard me?” She finally said when she had recovered enough to speak.

Rosita only sighed before standing, “I guess we heard each other.”

The tone in her voice made Pandora scramble up from the ground to catch her before she left. She was a little too slow because Rosita already had her back to her.

“Rosita!” She called, straining forward to catch the other woman’s wrist. “If you ever want to talk, I’m here.”

For a second, she was sure she was going to get a snarky remark in return so she steeled herself against it. Instead, she watched as Rosita’s face softened slightly. Her heart did an odd tap dance at seeing that moment of vulnerability.

“Thank you,” Rosita responded. Pandora watched her turn to leave but she stopped. “Listen, the same goes for you alright? Why don’t you come over for dinner?”

The offer shocked her into a moment of silence. Everyone here had accepted her as part of the group, albeit some slower than others. Before, not many of them felt like her friends but now it was changing.

“I’d like that,” Pandora answered with a smile. “That is, if I haven’t died from the pain.”

Rosita laughed, turning to leave. Pandora watched her go, stretching out the last few knots from her muscles. When Rosita’s form had faded around the corner, Pandora began moving. Her steps were slower of course, muscles reminding her that they were indeed in pain. Each step was slower and slower, the constant movement had loosened them when she had been training, but now they were beginning to tighten all over again. Reaching the end of her street, she had to stop to rest against another house.

“Fuck.” She muttered. Moving her hands, she tried to rub out some of the stiffness in her thighs. Under her skin, the muscles were pulled tight, coiled like snakes.

“Pandora? Everything ok?”

Glancing up, she found her eyes meeting the concerned face of Morgan. Instantly, she went stiff, blood in her veins turning ice-cold. She hadn’t interacted much with this man, he was too vocal about not needing to kill for her liking. She still hadn’t forgotten what he had done, what he tried to do. Her hands stopped mid-rub, peeling away from her sore legs and curling into fists.

“Fine.” She bit off the end of the word, straightening up to leave. Rage bubbled under the surface, she couldn’t do this, not with this man. Not with her nightmares so fresh in her mind, images still burning behind her eyes.

“Pandora wait.” She was already half turned away from him when he said this.

Blinking, she looked at him, brown eyes meeting her own. She didn’t want to stand here with him. She knew what he was, this man Morgan was not one of them. He didn’t belong here. He had tried to save a wolf, tried to save a man who had helped take almost everything from her.

“Morgan,” Her voice was a deep growl now, a habit she was picking up from Daryl. “Don’t.”

“Pandora, please.” He stepped towards her, she was quick though, putting up her hands and taking two steps back. Her brain screamed for more distance between them. He didn’t stop speaking though, only raised his hands as a sign of peace. “You have to understand, we don’t have to kill. There are other choices.”

“No there aren’t!” She nearly screamed. “You kill monsters like him, Morgan! You don’t keep them as pets!”

“I was a monster once. I had blood on my hands, as did Rick and Daryl.”

“No!” She tried to remember to be calm, tried to breathe through the rage but it was all-encompassing. He didn’t get to say his name, didn’t get to act like Daryl was anything like him. Her mind’s eye flashed with his face, a W carved into his forehead and rotten toothed smile. Phantom fingers tickled up her arms, causing her to try and shake them away. “You don’t understand Morgan! And if you stopped preaching for one fucking second you would. A man like him doesn’t deserve to live.” She was screaming at him now, unable to stop herself. Still, he stood there unmoving, watching her.

She couldn’t take it, couldn’t stand that look on his fucking face. Like he knew something she didn’t. He didn’t know shit, not about this, not about her. The steps she took back to her house were quick, fueled by her rage. In front of her, the door swung open with a bang racing past Rick and Daryl in their kitchen, she headed for her room.

Dimly, she thought she heard someone call her name, but she didn’t stop until the door to her room was slamming shut behind her. Spinning around, she reached for a pillow, holding to tight to her face she screamed into it. Sometimes that was the only way she felt like she could get her anger under control. The scream tore through her until her throat and chest burned with the force of it. Finished, she pulled the pillow from her face to gasp for air.

“Pan?” Daryl’s voice came from the other side of the door, laced slightly with worry.

“I’m fine!” Her answering shout was too loud, too rushed to make it believable. The door knob moved slightly as if he was laying his hand on it. “I’m going to shower.” That was better, calmer and more controlled. Breathe in two, breathe out two, the voice in her head calmly delivered the instructions. She gave no time for him to change his mind about coming in as she was in the bathroom locking the door behind her.

In the mirror, her eyes were wide and her face flushed with rage. She pulled the hair tie from the end of her hair, undoing the bun and running her fingers through the tangled waves. Rage still coiled deep in her gut but she tried to ignore it. Instead, she focused on the burning pain in her muscles, tensing and releasing them group by group. Everything hurt but it was kind of a dull pain now, it meant she was getting used to it.

Stepping into the shower, the water was hotter than it should be. But the scalding heat kept her grounded, shocking her body into the present moment. The fight with Morgan had shaken the deep calm she tried to keep. The man infuriated her to no end with his ‘every life is precious’ bullshit. It was just that, bullshit. Some lives were worth saving, but the number got smaller and smaller as the days went buy.

By the time Pandora was dressed, the rage had simmered down to a mild annoyance. The annoyance was low enough for her to be able to function. Back in her room, there was a tug and tightness in her muscles with every movement. Turning, she rummaged through her nightstand to find a long forgotten bottle of painkillers. Popping it open, she swallowed them dry and for a brief moment she thought about laying in her bed until the pills kicked in.

The sound of footsteps downstairs were a reminder that Daryl must be waiting around for her. Standing in the middle of her room, she heaved a sigh before heading for the door. The second she opened the door, the sound of the footsteps stopped.

“Pan?” His voice floated up from the kitchen where he must have been pacing.

“Coming.” Unable to help herself, she picked up the pace towards him. Despite the stiffness in her body, she was in the kitchen before she knew it. He wasn’t a monster, how could anyone look at him and say he had once been a monster?

The kitchen was empty though, and she found him lounging on the sofa in the living room. He was spread out feet on the table in front of him trying, and failing to look calm. Turning, their eyes made contact and for a second she stopped, frozen in her spot by his gaze. Heat travelled up her neck, she could feel the redness in her cheeks.  

“Yah alright?” Daryl asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

With the moment shattered she lowered herself down onto the sofa beside him, she curled into herself, pulling her knees up to her chest. The action stretched out her muscles, easing some of the cramping she was feeling. He was a furnace like always, heat leaching into her muscles softening them.  She craved it, craved his warmth like a good drug.

“I ran into Morgan on the way home.” The sentence was quite void of emotion and she took a small moment to be proud of herself for that. Beside her, he stiffened, “He isn’t dead, so that’s a good thing.”

His chuckle vibrated through her, and she smiled, leaning her head onto his shoulder now. Her stomach twisted in knots, unease deep in her bones.  

“Are we still going for a ride?”

“Yah want to?”

“Yes please.” For once she was eager to take a ride outside the walls. She could really use the time to clear her head. Wind rushing past her always seemed to wipe her mind clear of any lingering thoughts. It had been some time since Daryl had the bike taken, and she had to admit that she missed the rides they would take.

“Alright, get ready then meet me outside.” Daryl was up then, heading for the front door.

Pandora knew that he wouldn’t wait long so she left, scrambling from the couch to her room, savouring the pain-free movements she was able to make. In her room, she grabbed a light jacket for herself, rushing into Daryl’s rooms and getting a jacket for him as well.

In his room, she stopped for a moment to look around at his bedroom. Dirty clothes littered almost every corner of the room. She made a mental note that she needed to get some of their clothes washed as she headed out to the meet him outside.

Clearly, she had taken too long because when she stepped out into the street, Daryl was already out in the road, bike idling under him. A wide grin spread over her face as she slipped onto the seat beside him without waiting  to make sure she was holding on, they took off.

 

Chapter 26: Quiet Days

Notes:

Happy Tuesday. This weekend was a little crazy for me, this week is also crazy but that's besides the point. Here is a new chapter for all you lovely people! There wont be an undated until next weekend. I know this one is short but hopefully it will tie you all over until then!

Quiet days

“I don’t miss traffic.”

“Ah don’t miss daylight savings time.”

That sent Pandora into a fit of whooping laughter, arms wrapped around her stomach as she struggled to breathe. Tears pooled in her eyes, streaming down her cheeks. They had ridden for about half an hour, picking a clearing in the woods surrounding their home. Daryl had found them a spot up on a small hill with a good view of the surrounding space.  

“Any time yah wanna stop laughing” Daryl grumbled beside her, hands running over his face knees drawn to his chest arms resting on them.

“I’m sorry,” She wheezed attempting to control her laughter.  “It's just so…” The sentence died away as she began laughing again. The picture of him setting his clocks back and swearing in the morning when he got up too late or too early was hilarious.

“Ah could give you something to laugh about.”

Tears in her vision, she turned to him not sure what he meant until he exploded into action. His fingers found her sides, getting just the right spot to leave her gasping and breathless. Reaching up, she tried to push his hands away, but he was stronger than she was. Rolling to the side, she put enough distance between them that his hands slipped away from her for a second. He followed her though until she found herself laying on her back laughing, looking up into his laughing face.

His smile was bright, brighter than she had seen in a long time. His frame loomed over her, hands at her sides to pin her in the same spot. He was kneeling over her now, arms and legs pinning her in place and chest directly over her.  Heat rose in her face, a warmth making its home in her chest as she looked him at. He was still laughing, his much deeper than her high pitched laughter.

Slowly, the sounds coming from both of them died away, and they were left staring at each other in the growing silence. Under him, her body moved on her own accord, hand lifting to cup his cheek then moving to run her fingers along the stubble of his beard. Above her, Daryl was frozen, lips parted slightly as he gazed down at her.

“You could use a shave.” She whispered, her voice pitched in a low, breathy whisper. Her eyes never left his as she watched him process her words. Her thumb ran in small circles over his jaw.

A sigh pushed past his lips and he closed his eyes leaning into her hand gently. Slowly, he lowered himself closer to her to lean into her hand as his eyes closed. He was just inches away from her face. Her hand slipped away from his face, tangling in his hair. Heat pooled in her chest then with his face so close to her, all other thoughts melted like liquid. His scent was the same as always: smoke, grease and earth. It reminded her of home.

“Daryl.” Pandora wasn’t even sure why she was saying his name. Daryl lifted himself up, slightly red-faced and locked eyes with her. Breath catching in her chest, she blinked and opened her mouth but no sound came out. In his eyes, she could watch the growing storm cloud the clear blue. In her chest, her heart pounded. Fear and desire mingled equally inside her but the desire was to kiss him, to taste him only for a moment was strong. Fear was there as well, fear that the moment they crossed that line she would find herself stumbling back into a flashback.

Behind them somewhere a branch snapped, the sound of the undead floated towards them. Just like that, the moment was gone as the real-world around them called for attention. Daryl is moving before she can, lifting himself off her and heading for the tree line behind them.

Titling her head back, she watched him as a dead thing stumbled towards him. He was fast though, knife out and in its skull before she even had her breathing under control. Bitterness rolled up inside her. Fuck this world, stealing every moment of happiness they managed to find. Rolling her head back to the sky she sighed, trying to make shapes out of the clouds above her. She waited for some time taking big, deep breaths. When Daryl finally came back he didn’t come back beside her, only stood over her.  

“Come’on.” His tone was off, a certain distance she had never heard directed at her. He still reached out for her though, pulling her up by the upper arms until she was standing. Though she stood so close to him, she couldn’t be further away as the gap opened wider and wider between them.

The rest of the ride back was spent in silence, each of them too caught up in their own thoughts. Images of his face being so close and so relaxed floated in her mind’s eye. She craved his closeness because since he was real, he reminded her that she was real too. They rolled into the gates still in silence, her clinging tightly to him from behind. They stopped in the driveway and she slipped off the back, head tilted upwards to the sun. The sound of the garage door opening triggered a sag in her shoulders.

When he came outside, she was standing in the driveway with her eyes still on the setting sun. He was slipping beside her then, bumping her lightly on the shoulder. It was an uneasy gesture, an attempt at lightness that fell flat. A sigh escaped her, she wanted the awkwardness that surrounded them to disappear already. But the moments of unfinished actions between them were weighing on her shoulders. Her spine was bent with every touch of his fingers, every word whispered right in her ear.

“Dinner?” He asked, breaking the silence.

“Rosita invited me over to her place.” She hadn’t told him before, hadn’t brought it up. But now standing next to him in the driveway, hands shoved into her pockets, she thought that dinner with Rosita was a bad idea.  She wanted nothing more than to eat something Carol had left in the fridge and curl up on the sofa with him. Instead, she glanced at him from the side, trying to look calm.

Beside her Daryl give a light shrug, “Guess Ah’ll see you later.”

She didn’t answer right away, only stood stiff, leaning against him slightly. “Ya.” She breathed out the word. Turning, she made a move to leave but stopped to place a kiss on his cheek. The stubble of his beard tickled her lips. Not giving him the time to respond, she bounded down the driveway toward Rosita’s house.

When she knocked on the door, Rosita’s voice carried out from the inside telling her to come in. She slipped inside. The house was strong with the scent of whatever dish Rosita was cooking, something richly seasoned judging by the smell of it.  Once inside, Eugene sitting at the dining room table caught her attention. Eugene sat in the middle of the table, the entire surface covered with different maps and scraps of paper. He chewed a pencil between his teeth whispering and mumbling softly to himself.

She slowed as she moved past him, trying to make out the scribbled notes. In front of him was a map of Washington covered in little circles and notes. Stopping at the side of the table, she leaned down to trace her finger along the highway that lead to the outskirts of the city.

“There was a base right here.” She muttered, reaching for a pen. Gaze flickered across the streets she made sure she was right before circling the area with a delicate pen stroke. “It's hidden some kind of lab I think, but there might be something left.”

“Oh,” Eugene was writing on another piece of paper now. “That would need to be a whole new trip.” Muttering to himself, eyes glued to the scraps of paper around him.

“Don’t mind him,” Rosita poked her head in from the kitchen. “We can eat in the living room.”

Pandora only nodded, following the other woman into the kitchen. The meal was already laid out on the island: a bowl of roasted veggies, and a plate of what looked like patties. Beside the food, three plates sat along the island, buffet style seats all lined up. Pandora slipped into an empty seat as Rosita fixed her a plate of food. Holding a plate for each of them in her hands, the other woman walked towards the living room.

Pandora slipped off the bar stool to follow behind into the living room. Once on the sofa, Rosita placed the plate in her lap. A few moments of silence passed between them as they ate, Pandora didn’t break it until she was half way through the meal when the silence was too much for her to bear.

“How are you?” Pandora asked in a low tone, slow and careful. She eyed Rosita from the side of her vision trying to predict the other woman’s reaction.

Rosita only laughed, rolling her eyes slightly, “I’m single.”

Pandora put another forkful of food into her mouth, chewing slowly while she processed her answer. Rosita’s words had a bitter edge to them, a bite under the laughter.  “I’m sorry.” Was the only thing she could come up with now. Her mind drifted now to think about how long Rosita and Abraham had been together, all they had seen and done for it just to be over like that. The end of their relationship was another change to add her ever growing list, it made her uneasy.  

Rosita sighed, tucking some of her hair behind her eyes but kept eating her food instead of answering. After they had finished, Pandora cleaned up. Cooking was not really her thing but cleaning up, she was all over that. With the kitchen cleaned, she went back to sit in the living room, tucking her knees to her chest as she watched Rosita.

“How are you doing?” Rosita asked finally.

A sigh escaped her, fingers running through the loose waves hanging around her face. The image of her and Daryl on the hill flashed in her mind and the carefree mood that she hardly saw from him. The memory brought back the sensation of his face being so close to hers, their lips almost touching. Absently, her finger ran across her lower lip trying to picture what he might have tasted like.

“Oh, girl what’s that look?” Rosita jabbed her in the side, breaking her out of her moment of thought.

“Nothing,” She muttered, her hands fell away to rest limp in her lap. “I went out for a ride with Daryl before, my head is still there.”

Rosita gave her a long, lingering look that Pandora tried to ignore, choosing to pick at the skin of her fingers instead. They chatted for a while longer, Pandora curled on the sofa while Rosita stretched out her legs on the coffee table in front of her. They talked about life, about what would happen now and what the future would look like. It wasn’t until the goose bumps began to appear on her arms as the cool breeze came in through the open window that she thought maybe it was time to go.

“It’s late.” Pandora finally whispered after they had lapsed into silence.

“You want me to walk you?”

Rosita was getting up now, flicking the lights on in the room and moving to tidy the things they left out of place. Pandora watched her from where she now stood in the open-door way. Long seconds passed of her blinking slowly at Rosita.

“No,” She muttered finally. “I’m ok.”

Turning, she wrapped her arms around Rosita to give her a tight hug before moving towards the door. Passing Eugene, she only nodded, twisting the knob on the front door so she could slip outside.

Once outside though she moved into the middle of the street and tilted her face up towards the sky. The cool night air tickled her face, blowing strands of her hair around. Long minutes ticked by with her standing outside, filling her lungs with the cool night air. She had a habit of letting her mind slip away.

“Pandora? Kid?”

Abraham’s figure was silhouetted by the one light. The smoke from the cigar he was smoking twisted and curled into the darkness. From the corner of her eye she could make out his hunched frame and a large gun resting between his bent knees. Behind him a light was on in his house, a small outlined frame moving around inside.

“Abraham?”

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

She shrugged instead of giving a real answer, allowing her legs to carry her beside him. She eased her way down onto the step, knee bumping his causally. Beside her, he shifted to reach into the pockets on the vest he wore, coming out with a slightly crumpled pack of cigarettes. Despite herself, she reached for them, rushing to pull one out and place it between her lips.

“Here,” He was holding out a match now. Moving forward, she breathed in deep as Abraham moved to put out the match. “Thought you might want to have your own pack.”

Silently, she nodded. Taking another long, deep drag, the smoke filled her lungs simultaneously filling her with the deep calm it always brought with it.

“Thank you.” She whispered when she flicked the growing ash off the end.

“What are you doing out so late?”

“I was coming back from Rosita’s. I wanted a moment to myself.”

Beside her, Abraham nodded. Sometimes he was the most aware of her needs, giving her more space than most. She had heard him from time to time exchanging heated words with Daryl over how he treated her. Now he watched her, she could sense his eyes on her. Glancing to the side, she met his eyes, gaze heavy.

“Are you happy?” She asked, taking another deep drag. She should be upset with him, should be mad that he had broken Rosita’s heart. He was changing things, things that should never be changed. But there was something different in his eyes and the set of his shoulders that made her need to ask, need to know.

His laughing was the first answer she got, it shook the surrounding silence.

“Ah, you would be the one to wonder that wouldn’t you?” He finally said when the laughter had died away. “I am.”

She turned his answer around in her head, flipping it over and examining it slowly. Change was something she worked actively against, but if he was happy who was she to call it wrong? Still, she couldn’t help but picture the bitterness of Rosita earlier in the evening. The cold hardness in her eyes when Pandora asked how she was doing. Silence lapsed between them again, the smoke had gone out some time ago and now with her hands free she found her twisting them around each other.

“Kid?”

“That’s good that you're happy, you deserve to be.” She stood up then, stretching out her cramping legs. “I should get back it’s late.”

She didn’t give him the opportunity to offer to walk her home, instead she strode down the street in the direction of her house.

It was dark and eerily silent inside, Daryl must have gone to bed hours ago. She hadn’t turned on a single light, fearing even the smallest one would wake him. Instead, she placed her hands on the walls to guide her. When she stopped outside Daryl’s room, she listened to the sound of his deep rhythmic breathing that told her he had been sleeping for a while. There was a tug deep in her stomach that tried to pull her to the bed with him. She longed for it like a deep ache in her bones. She headed for her own room instead, a shower would make everything right again.

When she was finished, however, she stood in her dark room missing that sense of calm she usually felt. Hair dripping wet and dressed in shorts and a tank top, the idea of her own bed was suddenly so fucking stupid, why would she sleep alone? She didn’t need the light or her fingers to find her way into Daryl’s room. Instead, she just found her way into his room by memory alone.

Standing over his bed, she watched him for a moment. In sleep, years melted from his face. The lines etched deep in his expressions when he was awake melted away. He was all the more handsome while he slept, second only to when he smiled. Leaning down she brushed his hair from his eyes, “Daryl.” She whispered, trying to be as quiet as possible so that she didn’t startle him. He jolted awake still, hand gripping her wrist. He was more stable than she was though and the moment his eyes were open, he knew it was her. They didn’t need words now, he just pulled her into him, shifting to make room in the bed.

“Are you sure?” She whispered, slipping into bed with him. She didn’t turn away this time, she kept her face to him only inches away. Cold fingers found his warm chest resting lightly against the thin material of his shirt.

He leaned down to pull the blankets over them and drape an arm heavily over her. “Always.” He whispered, pulling her tighter towards him, his hot breath tickling her cheek.

 

 

Notes:

Remember leave me some love!!!

Chapter 27: Routine

Notes:

Hello! Did you miss me?? I missed you, I really did! Sorry for the long wait for the first time since I started this fic I have writers block. I'm totally stuck on the next chapter so bare with me I promise I am not giving up, too much good stuff is happening here.

 

The days that followed fell into a pattern for Pandora. Mornings were spent working out, then training with Rosita. Pandora spent her afternoons in therapy, the rest of her hours were spent wandering around inside. That only lasted a day or two before she began to get bored. A feeling that she was sure she was never going to feel again with the current state of the world. From her usual spot on top of the wall, she would watch Daryl and Rick leave Alexandria day after day. A small feeling tugged at her deep in her bones, she wanted to go out with them.

One night she confessed to Daryl that she wanted to test her growing skills and go on a short run. At first, she had been met with Daryl’s stoic silence as he stared at her openly. Panicking, she was about to be turned down before she had even begun so she rushed to list reasons she should come with them. She decided to play on his pride by reminding him that he could protect her. Only after she offered to let him watch her training with Rosita did he say he would consider it. After watching one session he agreed, Pandora hadn’t been able to hide her smile all day.

Everything seemed to settle into a kind of normal. Life within the walls moved along like always. With the fear of Negan  removed everyone was at ease. Plans for the community grew every day.  Maggie fixed her garden, insisting they needed to begin growing their own food. Everyday Pandora watched her out there with a few of the others. She wanted to help a time or two she tried, only ending up more a hindrance then anything. So it was back to watching the work get done.  One day after training with Rosita and therapy with Denise, Pandora found herself standing at the gates of Alexandria doing a weapons check.  Above her, the sun beat down, warming the small patches of exposed skin on her face and neck. It was a good day to head out, warm, but not too warm. Not a cloud in sight in the sky above them. This would be the third time she left Alexandria it was easier, every time she killed a walker herself it was as if something snapped back into place.

“Knives,” She muttered, fingers skimming over the two she kept at her belt. One of them a large hunting knife, handle made of polished, dark wood. The second one was smaller, all compact and sharp, cool edges. With them firm in place, she leaned down to check on the one she stashed between her boot and sock. “Gun. Check” That was also in a holder on her belt, extra ammo tucked into the pocket of her cargo pants.

Daryl had been insistent that she should have as many weapons as she could carry. She would probably have more if it was up to him, but she had to put her foot down at some point. She had argued that more than four weapons was overkill, they argued until Rick stepped in and silenced them with a stern glare. He agreed with Pandora, she could just tell by the look on his face.

“Get in.” Turning sharply, the car rolled up behind her. Daryl was leaning on the passenger door window, cigarette already lit between his fingers.

Pandora blinked, eyes sliding to the empty back seat. Of course they would make her sit in the back. Holding back a sigh she slipped in, wishing Daryl would at least slide back and join her. Instead, they were off with a CD playing and a lit cigarette passing back and forth. Sagging against the seat, she blew the smoke out the window, watching it twist and curl in the air and blow past their car.

“Where are we going this time?” She asked, leaning forward into the gap between the two front seats. A few strands of hair caught in her eyelashes. She had been sensible enough to pull it all back into a tight braid, but these days her hair seemed to have a mind of its own.

“Ain’t far, little building we saw coming back one time.” Daryl answered, turning his head to the side to glance at her.

“Why would one building have anything we might need?”

It was Rick’s turn to answer then without turning his eyes from the road. “It looked all locked up, hoping something good might be left inside.”

She nodded before remembering that he hadn’t turned to look at her so she answered with a dismissive, “Cool”

She was excited about this run, the two she went on before were uneventful. Nothing too far nothing too dangerous, they just been checking the homes and buildings around Alexandria. Today was different, they were going out further than they usually did.

Daryl had been right, the drive was short. Along the way, they passed trees with their tops reaching out, hungry for sunlight.  Leaning out the window, she longed to get out and climb them to see how far she could get and find out what she could see from up there. She always had an affinity for heights, up on the high bars in her training gym was where she felt the safest.

Before long they were stopping. The building in front of them was part of a larger strip mall. A fence encircled the entire building, Pandora assumed none of the stores had gotten a chance to open to the public. Everything within the fence seemed to be intact, it didn’t look like anyone had even tried to camp out inside.

The second Rick and Daryl opened their doors, she was out as well. Since she was faster and lighter on her feet, she was at the fence before them, fingers gripping the chain-link fence.  

“Yah ready?” Daryl came up beside her, his knife was already out, gripped tightly in his right hand. One glance back at him told her that his body was an outline of tight lines. He was stressed, but he was always stressed when he took her out of the walls. Fuck she was stressed too, but Daryl was here and whenever he was, she was safe.

Nodding, she took her own knife out, tapping on the fence to use the sound to draw out any walkers that might be around. For a few long seconds, nothing happened. Pandora knocked again, walking the line of the fence. Behind her she could hear Daryl’s heavy footsteps, he never let her get too far away from him.

“Guess it’s clear to go in?” She never turned to look at him, her eyes stayed focused on the strip mall in front of them. Nothing seemed to move, it was almost too still for her liking. She felt him though, barely a breath away from her. If she leaned back slightly, she would be pressed against his chest.

“Guess so.” Daryl muttered, arms crossed tightly over his chest. She glanced at him then, seeing the sharp movement of his eyes as he scanned the area in front of them. He was so much closer to her these days, the distance that he kept from others didn’t exist when it came to her.

“Incoming!” Rick’s voice broke them out of their silent moment of calculation. Rick was beside them now, in front of them a few of the dead lumbered through the overgrown grass.

They must have been close by, drawn in by the noise she had made. Better to get rid of them now anyway. Blood pounded in her veins, despite her present company, the tang of fear lingered in her mouth. She knew she would be fine, she had been training for this situation. Kill the dead and stay alive, easy.  Shifting, she tried to see around Rick and Daryl’s shoulders, but both men were standing shoulder to shoulder to box her in with the fence at her back. The fear simmered down now, replaced by a bubbling annoyance at being treated like a child.

“No guns, keep it quiet.” Rick instructed, voice void of emotion.

Pandora titled her head to the side wondering who the fuck he was talking to, couldn’t be her since clearly neither of them would even let her get anywhere near the walkers. Turning, there was a gap between Daryl’s back and the fence. Without a second thought, she slipped through to stand shoulder to shoulder with him.

She was sure she heard Daryl’s neck crack with the speed that he turned to glare at her. Pandora ignored him though. In front of her, a walker moved. His steps lumbering and heavy. He only had one arm she noted. Good, only one hand she would have to worry about. She really tried not to look too hard at them and remember that once they were human. They hardly looked human now though, jaw hanging loose and flesh and muscle rotted away. Pandora was quick though, plunging her knife into its skull. The bone was rotted away so she hardly used any force before it was just a limp body.

Somewhere beside her she was sure she could hear someone shouting, but she couldn’t understand what they were saying over the blood pounding in her ears. She plunged forward again, taking two steps towards another walker. With more force this time she plunged her knife into its skull, aiming for the temple like Rosita had taught her. She needed to jerk harder this time though, throwing more of her body weight into the movement. She took a second longer to pull the knife free this time, the lifeless body was already falling past her when she finally yanked her knife from its skull.

A third one was lumbering towards her now as well. Her gaze flickered to the side, catching Daryl’s figure. They had almost cleared the lot of them she noted, maybe three or four more but it was hard to tell. Blinking again, her gaze snapped back to the third walker that was still coming.

“Oh shit.” She said panicked before raising her knife again, the walker was dangerously close to her this time. This one was huge, skin stretched over bulging, swollen flesh. With both arms intact, it reached for her. She was faster though, ducking under its grip while slamming her knife up from his jaw to his brain. It took a frightening amount of strength to get it that far and once the body went limp above her, its weight came crashing down.

The last bit of air she had stored in her lungs was forced out by the weight as a thin scream. The dead walker landed on her with a thud, the weight and the smell reminded her of them. Reminded her of hands reaching in the dark, always hungry for her flesh. She tried to fight, pitching her body and kicking her legs.

Wet, thick blood flowed from the wound, coating her face and chest. As quickly as it happened, it was over and she was free, frame pitching up into empty air. Hands were on her then, pulling her up to her knees.

“Pandora, Pandora! Ah got ya!” Daryl was whispering in her ear now, lips so close that they brushed against her skin, sending shivers through her.

Yes, yes she was no longer trapped. Daryl had done something, removed the weight from her. The fight seemed to rush out of her then, leaving her empty and tired. Her frame now sagged forward into his arms, head pressed against the smooth muscle of his chest. Every breath she took was easier now, the air smelled clean but filled with Daryl’s scent.

Blinking, she sucked in a few deep breaths before she pulled away to look at him. “Fuck, I'm so sorry.” Tears made dirty streaks on her face as she looked at him. Shame burned white and hot inside her, she had been working so hard and in one moment she was tumbling into a flashback.

“It's ok, Ah got you it's ok.” His voice was a deep rumble against her chest. She leaned back into him then and he wrapped his arms around her tightly. “Lemme clean you up.” He muttered as he began to wipe the blood away the best he could with his rag.

They stayed like this for a few moments with Rick pacing in and out of her vision. He turned away from them after a while, working on the lock on the gate. Pandora was the first to stand, pulling her jacket tighter around her, arms crossed tightly over her chest. She wiped the wet tracks off her face with her sleeves, trying not to glance down at her blood stained clothes.

“Let’s go then.” She whispered, leaning down and offering her hand to Daryl to get up. He took her outstretched hand, causing a jolt to run right through her. A tremble had made its home in her bones but she tried to steel herself against it. Daryl must have felt something too as he leaned harder into her.

The sound of the fence being pushed out of the way called her back to the present moment. Rick was waiting at the opening with the knife she had left in the walker held out in his right hand. She took it without thinking, putting in back in its holder at her belt. She held the handle tightly gripped in her belt. She breathed slow and deep, counting each breath she took. She took a mental inventory of everything around her to stay focused, these days she found herself thankful for therapy.

The building in front of her was small, four stores in total. One of them looked like it was a variety store, that would be the most helpful for them. Pandora wandered up to the door, banging the end of her knife on the glass in case anything was inside. Nothing moved, but Rick came up beside her and put a hand on her shoulder. He didnt say anything but she just knew. Stepping back, she allowed Rick and Daryl to be the first ones in. Minutes ticked by until she heard the muffled cry of an all clear from somewhere in the back of the store.

Pandora turned to head inside,leaving the door open behind her. It was Rick who must have called the all clear because Daryl stood in the front waiting. As she stepped up beside him, his hand reached out to give her a light squeeze on her arm. A sigh escaped her as she allowed the momentary pressure to ground her, taking the moment to calm herself further. He did that for her brought her a calm she never quite found on her own.

“Ah’ll go left, you go right.” He said finally, letting his hand fall from her arm.

Silent, she nodded, turning to the right side of the store. Fingers idly ran along the dust covered sleeves. This place had been almost ready to open she noted offhandedly. Items lined the shelves in neat little rows, fronts facing out, covered in a layer of dust. The first set of shelves she found was filled with bathroom essentials. Shampoo, conditioner, body wash, hair ties. Pandora grabbed the hair ties, stuffing them into her pocket, could never have too many of those.

Stepping back, she stared at the contents of the shelves. Everything seemed important to her. Shit, couldn’t they use more toothpaste? More shampoo? Or rope, that was always good to have around. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea for her to come, how did they make this choice, how did they pick what to bring back?

“What’s important?” She asked, turning in the general direction she assumed Daryl was. She was wrong, however, because the moment she turned her head there he was right behind her, so close that she bumped into his chest. “Oh shit, Daryl!” She turned, hands on his chest as if she would push him away, but she only let them rest there.

“Food and medicine are always the most important,” Daryl reached around her, pulling a bottle of shampoo off the shelf. “This is important too, all the time you spend in that damn shower.”

Pandora laughed, grabbing the bottle from his hand. With her free hand, she reached up to tug on one of his greasy locks.

“You need this more than me Dixon. Showers are good, try it some time”

He snorted a laugh, grabbing another bottle of conditioner from behind her and throwing it into a box by his feet. He must have put it there because she hadn’t noticed it before. It was empty save for the one bottle he just tossed inside.

“Fill this box with all that bathroom shit we need. We got the food and other shit.”

Daryl turned and moved back to his end of the store, she noticed that he had more boxes by his feet. That seemed like something she should have thought of, instead she had gone off to la la land walking through the aisles. With a shake of her head, she tried to focus and started clearing all the personal hygiene items off the shelf.  She added some baby items for good measure with Judith and Maggie’s baby on the way, who knew when they would find stuff like this again.

The next aisle seemed to be filled with a bunch of random stuff like tape measures, ropes, gel pens and notebooks. She grabbed some of the colouring books, the end of the world was boring sometimes. First aid stuff was in the next aisle and it was still stocked, Pandora found another box and filled it with everything on the shelf.

When she cleared out everything on her side, she hauled her boxes to the front of the store. She knew better than to load the car herself, Rick and Daryl would probably freak out if she went outside alone. Though she wanted to as the small store was beginning to get stuffy. Hot, unmoving air was causing her hair to stick to the back of her neck. She longed for a breeze from outside. Sighing. she turned away from the door and headed over to Daryl’s side of the store.

To her right, the rack of magazines caught her eye. Reading material was always something she needed more of, but her eyes were drawn up to a cover from a sports magazine. There she was, bright smile shining out from the glossy front page. Gasping, she leaned forward, fingers brushing the picture of her face. She remembered this day, remembered how excited her Mother and sister had been about the whole thing. The whole day she spent trying on different outfits, getting her makeup done. The attention had been what she remembered the most, how she had basked in the praise and adoring looks. She worked hard to be where she was every complament was hard eraned with with blood.

Now the world stopped around her, this version of herself had died. She was no longer the happy young woman. She was nothing like that now. Reaching out with shaking fingers, she took it and started flipping it open to the first page of her interview, it was a four-page spread. She didn’t read it though, not needing the reminder, she just looked over the pictures.

“Find anything good?” Daryl was beside her now, peering over her shoulder at what she was holding.

“That’s my parents.” She whispered, fingers skimming over the glossy picture of her family.  There she was squished between her parents who were grinning stupidly. “I had just won my Olympic qualifying competition. They were so happy.”

“Yah look happy.” He leaned further over her shoulder, fingers brushing the picture of her family.

“I was.” Sighing, she snapped it shut, not ready to keep reading; this was not the place. Daryl took the magazine from her hands, gently rolling it up and slipping it in his back pocket.

“Ah wanna see it later.” He muttered. “Come’on let's load the car.”

Pandora turned back towards the door, Rick was already there with a box in his arms. She slipped up beside him, picking herself and following him out. They had gotten a lot of good stuff from here, boxes of food, personal care items, and some more medical supplies.

Rick must have pulled the car inside the fence because there it was, doors and trunk open ready to get loaded. Rick was already shoving stuff into the trunk, she just brought the boxes, leaving them beside him to figure out how to get it all inside. When her and Daryl had brought all the boxes out, he took her to check the next building.

“Looks like a book store,” Leaning into the window, she cupped her hands around her eyes trying to make out what might be inside. “Maybe, doors are locked though.”

“Watch out.” Daryl slipped up beside her, his right hand wrapped with his red rag.

Before Pandora could even blink, he was slamming his hand through the glass of the window. The shattering sound made her jump.  She took a step back to avoid the glass that fell towards her. Nerves still on the raw side caused the sound to bounce around, echoing in her head.

“Some warning would have been nice.” She muttered, peering around his shoulder while he worked to undo the lock.

“How else did yah think Ah was going to get in?”

Rolling her eyes, she stepped past him, holding the door open to the small store. Immediately, her breath was taken away by the inside. This store had also been ready to open its doors before the world went to hell. One side was lined with books of all sizes, dust collecting on the spines. The wall in the back was filled with rows and rows of CDs, more music than she had ever seen. The floor was littered with radios, CD players, record players and wireless speakers. On the opposite side, there was racks of books, band gear, t-shirts and sweaters. The rest of the room was filled with other random things like action figures, bags, decor.

“Holy shit,” Pandora whispered, stepped inside. She went right to the music, fingers clearing the dust from the covers. Walking down the shelf she found what she had been looking for, Sleeping at Last albums. Unconsciously, she picked up all of them before realizing that she had nothing to put the five CDs in.

When she turned, Daryl was behind her holding a backpack with the zipper already pulled open. Grinning at him, she put them inside but when she tried to take the bag, he stopped her, holding it firmly in his hands.

“Ah’ll hold it in case you want more,” Reaching inside, he pulled out a black t-shirt to hand to her. “Thought you would want to change, found yah this.” Holding it out in front of himself, he unfolded it so she could see. It was all black, the neckline dipped down into a V and the front was decorated with a golden owl.

Pandora glanced down at herself, in the excitement of the new store she hadn’t remembered that she was covered in blood. Looking down, she was reminded of the sticky feeling of the material.

“Oh, right.” She tried not to remember where the blood came from. The faster she got it off, the better. In seconds, the jacket and t-shirt she had been wearing were on the floor in front of her, leaving her standing in front of Daryl in her tank top.

Unphased he handed her the t-shirt, slipping it on she found that the size was perfect. It clung to her frame more than what she usually wore, but it was new so she didn’t really mind. Turning, she spun for Daryl who hadn’t taken his eyes off her as she changed.

“Looks good.” He muttered, eyes fixed on her from under strands of his hair.

She laughed, suddenly feeling light, happy even. Closing the distance between them she reached out, brushing the hair that always seemed to cover his bright blue eyes.

“How you can see me with all that hair in your eyes I will never know.” She whispered.

She held her hands there with his hair pulled back out of the way, they locked eyes again. There was something strange in his face, a flickering torrent of emotions. She wondered if her own face looked the same, wondered if he could see the train of thought running through her mind. She longed to taste his lips to see if he tasted anything like she imagined he would. It could be so quick, just a flash of a moment of their lips touching. Her mouth was bone dry suddenly, all the moisture sucked away. She licked her lips, never breaking his gaze.

“Ah always see you.” He reached for her then, fingers against her chin tilting her face up just a fraction.

Her breath was stuck then, lodged somewhere in her throat refusing to move. Heat rose in her face, white and hot as his finger ran lightly against her bottom lip. How could a man who could be so gruff, so violent, keep his touch so light? He barely brushed her skin, tickling her with light pressure. Body working on instinct alone, she leaned into him as if he had his own gravity and it called only to her. The space between them slipped away until she was close enough to feel his breath on her face, one more movement and their lips would touch.

A car door slammed behind them, vibrating in the stillness of the room. That was all it took to send him jumping away from her, for the inches between them to become feet. Daryl turned from her then to grab another bag and continue the search for anything of use, leaving Pandora standing alone with her hands hanging limp at her sides. Tears stung her vision, the knowledge of another unfinished action weighing her down, bowing her spine.

Wiping angrily at her eyes, she spun on her heel to collect clothing items and a few pairs of shoes, shoving them into a bag from the rack. His rejection stung her more than she thought it would. He’d jumped away from her like, got close but not too close. Unless she had misunderstood that was the case with her sometimes, emotions were not her strong point. That thought quieted her storm of emotions, to place the blame on herself was easier.

“Pan?” His voice broke her out of her daze. Blinking, she realized that she was standing there staring at the books.

“Coming,” Pandora picked more things off the shelf, filling a second bag she had grabbed. There was quite a collection of graphic novels as well, she grabbed some to give to Carl. This place had been a good score. Moving towards the front door, she found herself back at the clothes. She couldn’t help but picture Daryl in some of the band shirts. She decided it would be a way to say she was sorry for advancing on him. Picking a few, she packed them away in her second bag.

Outside, they were waiting for her. Rick and Daryl were leaning against the car which was packed to the brim. Even the back seat was pilled high with boxes, leaving her standing there wondering where she was going sit. Brown eyes flickered to a box in the back where a small camping radio sat, it looked like it had solar charging panels on top. Daryl must have gotten it for her, she forgot to think about how she would play all her new CDs.

“Here lemme take it.” Daryl was slipping up beside her, slipping the bags from her arm. Watching him open the back door she wondered where he was going to even fit her stuff. Somehow, he found a way to pile it on top, blocking the view of the back window.

“Where am I going to fit?” She questioned, peering through the backseat window. There was definitely no room for her back there.

Rick chuckled a bit, opening the driver’s door for himself, “Gonna have to squeeze up here with us. I wasn’t expecting this much stuff.”

Anxiety rolled in her belly, but she couldn’t argue since she couldn’t just stay behind. Another day, she wouldn’t have blinked at the forced closeness, it was always fine. After just now, she was not so sure. Did he want to be that close to her?

None of her inner thoughts mattered because Daryl was already opening the passenger door for her. Sighing, she slipped in, pressing herself as far into the middle console as she could. Daryl followed behind her but he didn’t try to put space between them. Instead, he put his arm around her, shifting her frame so that one leg was draped over his. This only made her even more confused, but his body pressed against hers always had the same calming effect on her. Despite the unfinished moment before, she found herself uncoiling her tight muscles and curling up against him.

The ride back was fast and to be fair she wasn’t sure she was relieved. Michonne was on gate duty, waving as they pulled in past her. They went right to the pantry and Olivia came out to greet them. She had her clipboard ready, writing down everything that passed her. She didn’t hand over her two bags though, those she brought with her into the house.

Back in her room, she put all the clothes away, hiding his gifts within her own. She rushed back out to help them unload the rest of the car. Pandora spent a few moments talking with Olivia who filled another basket for her to take back home. She sighed, shifting the basket in her arms as she turned to leave. The car was gone already, parked back outside. Rick disappearing the moment the work was finished. She passed the rest of the silent homes of her group. At the end of the row, her house had a light on inside.

For a moment, she considered not going inside, going to Rosita’s instead, or Abraham’s. The thought of being alone with Daryl was suddenly too much for her. She had gone over that moment in the store more times than she would like to count. She must have been misreading him, must have been confused about something she had seen on his face. He wasn’t thinking the same things she was and that was fine, or it would be fine in a few days.

Pandora had the basket though and some things needed to be in the fridge. The rational part of her mind won out as she headed towards the door. Slipping in the front door, she brought her basket to the kitchen to start loading what she had been given into the fridge. Daryl stood over the stove, tossing a pan of veggies and whole black beans into a pan.

Glancing over his shoulder he said, “Go put that away and come back, the food is almost ready.”

She did as she was told, putting her empty basket into the pantry. There was already two bowls of food in his hands when she finished. He gestured to the drinks, and she picked them up to bring into the living room.

On the sofa, she curled up to him, leaving almost no space between them. He was like the sun, she couldn’t help get pulled into him. For a long while they ate in silence, it was so normal that it made her heart ache. It wasn’t until they were both half way through their bowls that he started to speak.

“Yah did good today.”

Pandora only scoffed, rolling her eyes and picturing herself ripping off the blood-stained clothes with him watching. Remembering the way she panicked with the dead on top of her, she hadn’t even thought about saving herself. Willfully she ignored the moment of closeness, they both danced around it.

“I lost my shit. Again.” She mumbled, spooning more food into her mouth so she couldn’t talk.

He moved in closer to her then, pressing himself right onto her. Her body responded like it always did, folding up into all the spaces he left for her. His fingers found the bare skin of her arm, rubbing small circles while drinking the rest of the soup.

Pandora spooned the last of it into her mouth before setting the bowl down on the table in front of her. His frame was resting tightly against her, she loved the feeling the warmth and pressure of him. It was easy to forget all their half finished moments when they were like this.

“Yah didn’t lose it though. Yah held your shit together all damn day till now.” He was leaning down to her lips, tickling her ears as he spoke. “How do you feel?”

A shiver ran through her, starting at her ear and racing down to her toes. Sighing, she half-turned and took his bowl, placing it next to her own on the table. Then, she was moving into him, making more room for herself. Lifting his arms, she wrapped them around herself as she tucked herself into his side.

Beside her he only chuckled, “That good huh.” He didn’t move though, only tightened his arm around her. “It's been a long day. Yah gonna sleep soon?”

Pandora rolled her neck, hearing the cracks and pops from the joints. “I should shower first.” She was sure there was still blood in her hair somewhere despite the braid she had bound it in.

“Your room or mine?” Daryl asked, arms dropping from around her as he stood.

“Mine, but you need to shower first, my bed is clean.”

“Cause yah don’t spend any time in there.”

“Whatever Dixon I call dibs, but you’re right after me.” Pandora was standing too then, padding him lightly on the shoulder as she passed heading up the stairs towards the bathroom.

 

Notes:

So what did you think? Give me some love maybe it will help get the juices flowing a little faster!

Chapter 28: Beginning

Notes:

I'm back!! I am so so so so sorry for leaving for so long. Life got crazy. I got married! which is amazing but a lot of planning and time went into that. I also had some hard core writers block for the longest time. I did think about breaking this up into two chapters but since I have been gone for so long have a super long chapter to keep you all happy!
As always thank you to my wonderful Beta reader! Who put up with me stressing for this chapter for ever.

 

Another week of their new life passed. Pandora joined Daryl on small runs every day and every time she went out, it was better. They never had a repeat of her episode in the strip mall. Instead, she trained harder. Pandora explained what happened to Rosita who had then changed how they trained. They worked on building and strengthening her muscles so that she could take down the harder walkers. Life around them continued on as usual though, every day looking much like the last one. Pandora just continued to get stronger and go to therapy every day.

That day held most of the same morning training with Rosita, therapy with Denise and then nothing. In the end of her day when she usually did nothing, she found herself outside with Daryl who was going over the bike.

Dressed in dark jeans and a long-sleeved sweater she lounged on the steps behind him. The sun was still high in the sky; it wasn’t even noon yet. Therapy had been shorter than usual as Denise’s mind had been elsewhere and Pandora was longing to be out in the sun since the warmth was so fleeting these days.

“You never looked in there before?” Pandora asked as she pulled her hair into a tight braid. She pulled her hair a bit too tight, but the pain that sent little shocks through her scalp only served to sharpen her focus.

“Naw, never thought about it.” Daryl mumbled, pulling the little sack out from under the bike.

Pandora only nodded, watching him take the little carved figure from the bag. It was Dwight’s, she remembered that now. Daryl had taken it from him when they gave the bag back. He had forgotten she was even there, she could tell by the way his face fell. Teeth bit nervously into the skin of her lip as she stepped back, slipping into the shadow of the porch. She didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to talk to him right now. She wanted to hold him, fold him up in her arms and tell him it was going to be ok. She knew the battle he was having within himself. He saved those people, and they almost killed them. Almost killed her that was what he worried about. It should upset her that he cared more for her life than his own, but didn’t it go both ways? She didn’t even need to ask that of herself if it was her life or his she would pick him.

Pandora almost wrapped her arms around him until Carol started coming up from down the street. Despite herself and the relationship they had formed, Pandora found the slightest stiffness in her muscles. Carol had been off in the time since they had been back. Pandora had seen the distant look in her eyes that she often saw in the mirror, it was unsettling.

“Didn’t even notice. You got your bike back.”

That was an odd thing to say since they had been back for weeks now. Not that Carol had been present really, wandering Alexandria like a ghost. That was something she expected from herself, not from Carol considering how strong she was.

“Yeah.” His voice was low, Pandora strained to hear it from where she sat, ever the silent observer.

Breathing deeply, she slipped up behind him, knees bumping in his back. She reached her hand out to his shoulder lightly, she felt him shift and relax under her touch. Touching between had increased in the last week or so, the contact calmed her down. Pandora was surprised to learn it did the same for Daryl.

“You got another one of those?” He asked, pointing at the lit cigarette in Carol’s hand.

Carol shifted, fishing a pack out of her pocket. She pulled one out handing it to him and one to Pandora. They shared a brief nod as Carol handed her the lighter, Pandora took a deep drag, lighting it before handing it back.

“Those people you met, the ones in the burnt forest, they took it from you?” Carol turned to Daryl, eyes fixed on him.

The ash at the end of her cigarette reminded her of the burnt forest, of waking up with her hands bound, of the panic tightly coiled in her belly. In her mouth, Pandora could taste the burnt air of the forest. In the briefest moment when she closed her eyes the images of her capture with the gun in her face played behind her eyelids. Her fingers tightened around his shoulder and instantly his hand was on hers, fingers tangling in her own as he answered with another

“Yeah.”

“You saved them, right?” Carol asked.

Pandora had to close her eyes. When she did, the moment of Dwight’s betrayal started playing behind her eyelids. Her grip on Daryl tightened, but he didn’t seem to mind, tightening his grip on her the same way.

“Sorry.” Carol’s voice sounds small in her ears. “It’s who you are. We’re still stuck with that.”

Daryl rubs circles on the back of her hand, “No, we ain’t. I should’ve killed em, for what they did to us, to her.” His head jerked towards her. She tried not to look right at him, hiding her eyes under strands of hair. She obviously failed as his eyes pull her in, their gaze is locked now, and her stomach is doing tiny flips when he finally turns away. They lasp into silence. Why did Carol care what Daryl had done to the man, Dwight.  Daryl should have killed them, she should have killed them. You don’t get to live when you do things like that, you just don’t. If she saw them again she would kill them that was something she knew for sure.

The silence started to get tense around them before Carol stood up, placing the pack from her pocket on the step beside him.

“Hey,” Daryl called her back. “The ones that took you and Maggie, what’d they do to you?”

Pandora stiffened at his tone, but doesn’t say anything. Her eyes travel to Carol’s face, what she sees there is broken. Carol hangs onto her composure, but just barely, Pandora can tell.

“To us? They didn’t do anything.” Carol turns away, but Pandora catches a flash of emotions across her face.

As Carol leaves, Pandora stands up from her seat, flicking the butt of her cigarette on the grass in front of them. Pandora slips into the seat beside Daryl, pressing herself a bit tighter to him. Daryl puts his arms around her shoulders, tucking her frame under his shoulder.  

“We should go for a ride.”

Pandora nods, “Yes please.” The words come out as a breathy whisper.

He lets her go to heads for the bike, kicking up the stand and starting it. Moving to the end of the driveway, she tipped her face upwards, letting the few rays of sun warm her skin. Letting her eyes fall shut she stood still for a few seconds until the rumble of Daryl’s bike floated towards her. Opening her eyes, she looked at him on the road. He sat under the bike holding it up with his weight, he was watching her too. Blinking, she jogged down the rest of the way to slip on the seat of the bike behind him.

They drove for a while, just enjoying the wind and the silence. She wondered what Daryl was thinking about, Carol, probably. He worried about her almost as much as he worried about Pandora. They had been part of their group from the beginning from what she understood, Daryl had met her on the road in Atlanta. They had a deeper relationship, something born from hard times and a sameness in them. She would be lying if she said the ease of their relationship didn’t bother her.

 When they finally stopped, the silence still stretched between them. Daryl pulled the bike off the road and onto the soft grass. Trees stretched out around them for miles, tops reaching up to the sun. He pulled a water bottle from the bag on the bike, handing it to her before easing down onto the grass.

“Thanks for taking me.” Pandora whispered, handing the bottle back to him. She sat next to him, fingers skimming the grass under her. From the corner of her eye she watched him put the bottle in the little bag on the bike.

“Anything for you.” The answer comes so quickly she almost isn’t sure he had heard what she said. But no, she said thank you, and he said he would do anything for her. It shouldn’t surprise her, really.

She leaned against him, fingers curling in the hem of his shirt. He wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin on the top of her head. They stay like that for a while, pressed tightly together in their silence.

“Ready?” Daryl finally asks as sound starts to float towards them. The sound of the dead she’s almost sure.

“Ya” Pandora stood, brushing off the back of her pants while she waited for him. She found herself watching him as he got onto the bike, bringing it roaring to life under him. She could tell he was still lost somewhere in his own thoughts as there was a faraway look in his eyes. She didn’t comment on it though, only slipped up behind him to wrap her arms tightly around his middle.

They were rolling through the gates in no time and around them Alexandria was bustling with early evening activity. As they pulled into the driveway, Rick appeared on the sidewalk.

Daryl only nodded at him before rolling into the garage. Once they parked the bike, they left together to meet Rick who was still waiting at their driveway.

“Dinner at my place tonight?” Rick asked, hand in his pocket  as he glanced at Daryl.

Pandora found herself smiling, “I would love to.”

To her right, Daryl chuckled and bumped her shoulder lightly, “Guess we’re coming over.”

Rick nodded, a small smile tugging his lips as well, “See you in an hour.”

Pandora turned, dashing inside and up the stairs. She needed to shower and change before they headed over as she hadn’t showered after her training. It didn’t really bother her when she was just hanging around, but now that she was going to dinner, she couldn’t go like this.

“Where ya going?” Daryl called out to her from the front door.

“Shower!” She answered, throwing him a glance over her shoulder. “You can go after me!”

“Ah don’t need to shower.”

Stopping mid-way up the stairs she turned, eyebrows raised and head tilting to the side in question. “Really?”

“What?” He looked truly puzzled in that moment, and she couldn’t help but laugh.

“Shower Daryl, then put on clean clothes I washed a bunch of your stuff.”

“Yah didn’t seem to mind a second ago.” He mumbled, heading for the living room.

Her shower took no time; she had left her outfit in the bathroom so she could change before she came out. Pandora had found a pair of light jeans and one of the new shirts she had gotten from the store in the strip mall. In her room, she combed her hair out, styling it with some no frizz cream she had found that day as well. Perks of going out on the runs was that she got first dibs on all the good stuff.

Her reflection looked better than it had in weeks. The bags under her eyes had disappeared, leaving nothing but unmarked, caramel skin. Her face had filled in more, taking on more of the round shape she had before all of this started. She looked more like herself, more like the pictures of her face in the magazine they now kept in their living room. Her outside was a little more reflective of how she was feeling inside.

“Pandora? You ready or what?” Daryl’s voice called up to her from somewhere on the main floor.

Sighing, she ran her fingers through her hair again before leaving.

“Ya, ya I’m coming.” She muttered, stepping from the bathroom door.

At the bottom of the stairs she stopped, breath stuck in her throat as she took in the sight of him. He was already standing at the door dressed in dark jeans and one of the new t-shirts she had picked up for him. Of course, he had put his vest on over it, but she knew he hardly ever took that off. The t-shirt though fit his frame, perfectly hugging him a little more snuggly than his usual outfits did, and she had no problem with that. He was looking down, eyes fixed on the nervous tap of his foot so he didn’t seem to notice her staring. It wasn’t until she cleared her throat that he finally looked up at her.

“What?” He asked, pushing some of the hair from his eyes. “Got shit on my face?”

“No, no.” The words caught in her mouth, tripping over each other to get out. “You look great.”

He flushed, turning away from her to open the front door, “Let’s go.”

She wandered out first, using the sounds of the party to guide her to Rick’s house. When she stepped inside, everyone was already there, everyone expect Rosita. Pandora noticed her absence right away, it tugged at her chest, causing her fingers to curl into fists. Rosita should be here, this was her family, she belonged with them.

She forced herself to look around though, making a mental note to visit Rosita tomorrow. In the living room Michonne bounced Judith on her hip, laughing with Glenn and Maggie. Carol was in the kitchen with Rick, doing what? Pandora couldn’t be sure. The rest of the space in the living room was taken up by Abraham sitting next to Sasha, Carl opposite them and Morgan speaking in hushed low tones toward the back of the room with Father Gabriel.  

The whole scene was so normal, despite the fact that she found herself frozen in the front entry way, unable to make her body move forward. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to be there because she really did. She felt stuck, like entering a scene where she didn’t quite belong, or hearing a conversation that was a little too personal.

Behind her the door opened again, the hand on her made her jump despite the lightness of it.

“Pandora? Going in?” Denise was behind her, fingers lightly brushing her arm. “What number are you feeling?”

Pandora was so caught up in trying to think about what number she’s on and why that she doesn’t even notice Denise leading her gently into the room.

“I’m a three.” Pandora finally answered when she had been moved to the living room. Daryl was beside her then, a beer in one hand, the other hand moving to cup her elbow.

“You good?” He asked, leaning down gently towards her ear.

“She’s a three.” Denise answered for her when her own silence had gone on for too long. The Doctor was gone then, moving into the kitchen to call a greeting to Rick.

Blinking Pandora looked up at Daryl, “I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong.”

“S’alright come sit.” He was moving her again like Denise had, with a gentle hand on her elbow.

Once she was in the living room, Daryl found her a space on the sofa beside Abraham. Beside her, Abraham didn’t turn to speak to her as he was wrapped up in his conversation with Sasha, but patted her leg gently in a way of acknowledgement.  The moment she sat down, Michonne was passing Judith into her arms. The presence of the little girl always had a grounding effect on her.

In her lap, Judith cooed, reaching her chubby hands up for Pandora’s loose curls.

“Hey little lady, what are you doing?” Pandora whispered, taking her hand and covering it in tiny kisses. Judith smiled at her blue eyes bright under wisps of blond hair.

“Hey little ass kicker.” Daryl’s deep drawl rumbled from beside her. He sat on the arm of the sofa, reaching down to ruffle her hair. “This little girl is one of the best things left in this fucking world.” He mumbled, stroking her head gently.

Pandora couldn’t help but turn her head up, locking eyes with him. His face became redder and as he takes a sip of beer, he uses the chance to break eye contact with her.

The evening was great, as the conversation swells around the table Pandora listens calmly, leaning gently into Daryl’s arm. She joins in sometimes as well, adding a comment or laughing at a joke. With every passing moment she feels more at ease.

After dinner, the cooling night air finds Pandora and Daryl outside, lounging on the porch to smoke. Daryl was sitting on the railing, leaning on the post with Pandora standing behind him, half-hidden in the shadow. Every puff from the cigarette shone dim light on her face. The evening had been nice but as always, anxiety gets the best of her, causing her to need a space to think and cool back down. Blinking, she watches the walls in the distance, almost sure she can make out the figure on top pacing.

Was something out there? A mass moving in the darkness causing the guard to become uneasy. Despite herself, she pictures wolves scaling the walls and pouring in like ants to swarm over their home. Part of her knows she is being irrational, but panic claws up her chest. Her mind drifts too much, so she doesn’t know her cigarette is out until its burning her fingers. Hissing, she tosses it away, popping the two burnt fingers into her mouth.

“Did yah have fun?” Daryl asked her as he started getting up to take her by the arm and pull her to lean on the wall. The doomsday scenario that was playing out in her head was gone, the brush of his fingers on her arm chased it away.

It’s dark around them now and Daryl has pulled her more into the darkness. He has his back resting on the wall of the house, his arms around her as Pandora had tucked herself into his chest. It’s the grounding she is always craving, the heat of his skin and firm pressure of his arms reminded her to stay at the moment. He must read her mind.

“Ya thanks for bringing me.” She replied.

“You said you were going before Ah did.” Daryl said.

Pandora only laughed, turning her head to press her cheek against his chest, his grip on her tightened a fraction and she sagged against the pressure. Her eyelids were beginning to feel heavy, blinks becoming longer and slower.

“Yah ready to head home?” He asked finally, she wondered if he could see her face from this angle. Maybe he was just a mind reader, he always seemed to know what she was thinking.

“Ya I guess, I’m kind of tired.” She responded.

“Come on then, let’s say bye.” Daryl said as he started to move her again, letting his arms fall away and slipping out from behind her. Pandora stifled a sigh, would have been better just to slip away right now. The noise of the house was beginning to wear her down. She didn’t say anything though, only stepped back inside behind him.

“Daryl! Come here. Look what we found.” Rick is leaning out into the living room from the kitchen, holding a bottle in his hand.

“Gonna head home.” Daryl said as he still moved towards him though, Pandora slipping up beside him to follow, his ever silent shadow.

In the kitchen everyone is gathered, Rick had shot glasses lined up and a bottle of tequila in his hand.

“One for the road?” Rick asks, holding an empty glass.

Daryl is looking at her now, running his hand over the stubble on his chin. Pandora doesn’t speak, only nods to tell him that it’s fine.

Pandora is watching Rick fill all the little glasses, she counts everyone around the counter then the glasses, noticing that there isn’t one for her. Again, she glances up around the counter as Abraham meets her eyes, a grin splits his face.

“Missing one for the kid.” He tells Rick, patting her on the shoulder.

Pandora grins at him taking an empty glass and holding it out for Rick to fill. She watches him look to Daryl first and sees a silent conversation playing between them. She is sure someone is about to comment on how the mentally unstable woman suffering from PTSD probably shouldn’t drink, but no one does. Daryl only sighs and waves his hand for Rick to pour it.

Everyone grabs their glass, she admits to only herself that her hand shakes ever so slightly when she reaches for hers. What could one shot even do to her though? She doesn’t give herself much time to think about it, just opens her mouth and drinks.

The shot burns like fire all the way down and by the time it reaches her stomach, she is sputtering and coughing, doubled over with her hands wrapped around her middle. Around her laughter erupts, Abraham’s deep laugh vibrates around her as he pats her on her back gently.

“You’re alright kid, just take a deep breath.”

The fire subsides enough for her to stand up straight without coughing. The liquid is still there though, turning her belly into a fire pit. Daryl is at her side then, pushing a glass of water into her hand. She takes it, using small sips to calm the burning.

Around her everyone is mulling about again, conversation swelling around her. Blinking past the tears in her vision, she wipes her eyes and sets the glass on the counter. Daryl is at her side like always. As she moves her eyes to look at his the expression on his face shocks her. He looks amused, lips upturned into a small smile. She would have assumed he would be pissed, pissed that she had taken the drink in the first place and that she clearly couldn’t handle it. Instead, there was a lightness in his eyes that she hadn’t seen since that day in the clearing when he had come back from dealing with the Saviours.

“Now I think I’m ready to go.” She says, laughing, which is surprising to her. Turning to look at the rest of the group she takes a minute to catch up, wavering on her feet. After so long with not drinking, a shot was probably not the best idea she had ever had.

“Too late now.” She says out loud before stopping herself.

“What?” Daryl asks, leaning into her to hold her elbow firmly.

“Nothing, nothing.” Waving, she called out her goodbye, voice carrying over the din of conversation. A few people looked up, surprised maybe to hear her so loudly. Maybe drinking was a good thing.

Daryl started pulling her away which she was grateful for. Her limbs were beginning to feel too light, jerking too far with every movement she was trying to make. They were home in no time.

“Come’on, bed.” Daryl said as he was pulling the front door shut behind him. Sleep was the last thing she wanted to do though. He was already moving though, heading for their bedrooms.

“No, come on” Pandora’s plea was a long whine as she grabbed for him, stopping his movement towards the stairs. He stopped even though she was sure that she wasn’t holding hard enough to actually stop him.

He does stop though, turning to watch her from under a few strands of hair. “What do yah want then?”

His question is more loaded than he knows, or maybe he does because he is looking at her with a look that she is sure can look right into her soul. Swallowing hard, she tenses, fingers digging into the hard flesh of his arm.

“To look at the stars.” She says finally, not sure how else she could prolong the evening.

Daryl doesn’t answer, only removes her fingers from his arm to take her hand, leading her towards the back door. Pandora followed, hand gripping his. The alcohol inside her was making her feel light and happy.

When they step outside her hand slips from his, bouncing down the back steps to the small patch of grass that was their backyard. They didn’t have much green space, their small townhouse was directly in front of the wall. It was small, but lended itself to privacy, something they both held as a high priority.  Collapsing down onto the soft grass she spread out her arms around her. The grass felt cool and damp underneath her outstretched fingers. Her breath escaped her in a deep sigh and beside her she could hear Daryl lowering himself onto the ground beside her. He didn’t lay down, she noted, turning her head to the side.

“This is what yah wanted?” He asked, turning towards her with his eyebrows raised.

“Yes,” her answer was came quickly. Turning, she looked up at the clear sky. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, the stars shone with a brightness she was sure wasn’t there before the world ended. “I feel good, I’m not ready to end the day yet.”

His chuckle was soft beside her, but he didn’t say anything.

Minutes ticked by in silence, finally Pandora pulled herself up to sit beside him and press her frame against his.

“I can’t believe one shot is my limit.” She muttered, rubbing at her eyes, everything seemed to feel different. She wasn’t even sure how to put it into words.

“Can’t believe Ah let you take even one shot.” He muttered, shaking his head.

“I have to live sometimes you know,” Grinning, she turned her face up to him and lifted his arm to tuck herself under it. He moved, shifting to make room her tucked in beside him.

“Besides life has been pretty boring these days you have to admit.” She said.

“Ah like boring, it’s safe.” Daryl answered, he shifted a fraction until her head was tucked into his chest. The change in position triggered a sag in her frame, every muscle relaxing at once in his arms.

They sat in silence for a while, every so often Daryl would shift beside her.

“Are you comfortable?” She asked him

Daryl shifted again, this time he rested his head against hers, “Yah this is nice.” He pulled her tighter again, arm draped heavily over her shoulders. She felt him move his other hand, so it rested on her tight as he drew tiny circles on the material of her jeans. Shutting her eyes she tried to imagine he was drawing pictures on her.

This was almost too good, there was part of her that was waiting for the other shoe to drop: for the dead to come streaming over the walls, or the wolves with their blades and carved foreheads. Under her skin her muscles grew tight at the thought of something shattering their moment.

It was almost too much for her to believe that she would be allowed something like this. After all that she had done, all the people she killed and all the ones she left behind. But here she was, safe and happy, held tightly in Daryl’s arms.

The heat that gathered under his hand spread slowly outward to every inch of her skin, pulling her back to the present moment. She had never been one for drugs or alcohol but with him she could understand addiction. She needed him, needed to be close to him, to touch him because it kept her grounded. Without him, her skin itched, her mind was unable to focus, it was an addiction.  Moving  her head, she stared at him, or tried to. The sun had long set, leaving his face hidden in shadow. She could see him though, his face burned into her memory after so long. Pandora didn’t even really notice that they were moving until his breath, warm and soft, tickled her face. Pandora could make him out now that he was closer to her, the storm in her eyes reflected in his own. Fingers reaching for him, she brushed her thumb along his chin.

They moved together then, neither one of them taking the lead over the other, both in sync. The kiss was soft, like everything was with Daryl. With his lips pressed lightly against her own, she sighed against him. It wasn’t fireworks or lights, it was a slow burning in the pit of her stomach. A dull heat pooling and spreading like water. Every nerve buzzed, her fingers burying themselves in the strands of hair at the base of his neck, trying to pull him tighter. Pressing herself tighter to him, she tried to deepen the kiss, mouth opening just a fraction. He stopped her then, hands firm on her shoulders pushing her away.

Pandora found herself gasping in the absence of his lips. Her other hand which had found its way to his chest fell away into the space between them. She could taste him still, feel the presence of his lips on her own. Fire coiled tight in her belly, nerves sparking with electricity.

He had stopped her, meaning she had done something wrong. In her veins, her blood sung, she longed for a moment to just be that close again. Daryl was sliding away from her though, so she moved as well, forcing herself away from him. Shame flared suddenly, hot and bright inside her, her brain skipped over and over like a bad battery.

Suddenly she was picturing a new life, different from the one they had now. Where the lines of their relationship were drawn deep in the ground. She pictured nights alone in her own bed, waking from nightmares without his arms to bring her back. It scared her, stealing the breath right from her lungs and leaving her gasping.

“I, I, I, I.” She couldn’t form a sentence, couldn’t fit the words to say what she needed. Her hand shot up, tracing the shape of her lips, feeling where his has touched her own. “I’m sorry.” She whispered, lowering her head, hair falling over her eyes.

Slipping out from under his arm, Pandora put more space between them. Beside her Daryl was still stiff, and she was moving, turning and getting ready to stand. It had happened again, just like in the store she had gotten too caught up at the moment. Space, some space would help. She felt him touching her before she saw it, his hand clasped around her wrist freezing her in place half standing.

“Don’t” He whispered. With a tug she was beside him again, tumbling into his lap. Hands moved then, hers and his. He brushed her chin, fingers moving to curl in her hair. Her breath escaped in a quiet sigh. She had almost forgotten what had happened a moment ago when he pushed her away. Her head leaning back, relaxing into him. “Don’t go.” Daryl’s whisper is barely audible. He’s tilting his head towards her now, lips leaving tiny kisses along her chin. “Ah didn’t mean that. Had to be sure.”

She isn’t really sure what he means by that, but she isn’t sure she cares either. His lips trail down her neck, each kiss leaving a tiny fire behind in its place. Her body is limp and boneless in his arms, “Daryl.” She whispers his name like a prayer, not sure what she is even praying for. She reached out for him again, fingers trailing down his cheek. Shifting, she tangles them in his hair as he leans his face in kissing her. He doesn’t shy away this time, instead gives into the moment, mouth pressing firmly down on her own.

Her lips open just a fraction to let her tongue dart out and taste him. He tastes just like she thought he would: cigarette smoke, tequila and home. He opens his mouth to her then, her tongue brushing his teeth causing him to make a sound into her mouth. She can feel a groan in the pit of her stomach. In that moment she knew this would change everything. Now that she had him like this, she was never going to be happy with anything else. There was no way they could go back to before, quick touches and stolen moments. When she breaks away from him she’s gasping, needing the fresh air.

Leaning forward their foreheads touch, faces impossibly close. This seemed so important, this one moment, she wants to stay here for a while. She wants to commit everything to memory, every detail: the grin on his face, the light in his eyes. It’s important she knows, because moments like this one don’t come often. She doesn’t speak, but her hands never stop moving, they are trailing his jaw, twisting his hair between her fingers. His hands are moving too, rubbing lazy circles on the small of her back where he held her in place in his lap.

Above them, the sky opens up and rain drops began falling. It’s nice, the cool water putting out the fire that is her skin.

Daryl is grinning down at her, wide smile splitting his face. He looks years younger with that smile, she wants to see him like this always. His lips are moving, she is sure he is speaking to her, but the words never reach her. Until she hears, “Time for bed.” That had her nodding in agreement, she wants nothing more than him in the dark. She doesn’t seem to notice the rain around her, water seeping into the layers of her clothes.

He is lifting her then, supporting almost all her weight as they move back inside. Before she knows it they are in her room and he is pulling the sheets down before leaning down to take his boots off. It was hard to remember what had happened between outside and here. Especially when he was pulling off his vest with the shirt following it not long after. She imagined how warm he must be and her fingers began to work again to pull off her own clothes. It takes her a few tries to work the button on her jeans, mind distracted by this new place she finds herself in. Getting ready for bed this time is different, the humming in her blood sets it apart and the eagerness to be closer to him is stronger than usual. She slipped under the covers in boy shorts and a tank top. He joined her, dipping the mattress under his weight.

Silence stretched around them as they laid in the dark. Pandora found herself uneasy, suddenly not sure of what to do next. Different things to say whirled around in her head, thoughts like tiny flies she couldn’t pin down. It was disturbing not to know where to go next, what to do with this new information she had been given. Like always, Daryl knew. She felt him shift to close the space between them until she could feel his warmth.

“S'lright?” His voice carried over to her in the darkness.

She tried to open her mouth and speak, she really did, but emotions rolled inside her, shutting her throat. Instead, she closed her eyes and took a long, deep breath to let her body do the speaking for her. Blankets pulled up to her chin, she slipped up to him, frame tangling with his own. Her free arm wrapped around his chest pressing tight to his side. The feeling was different, she had to admit. This new place they both found themselves in was somewhere she never thought she would be again. Yet there it was, the blooming warmth in her chest spreading from her core and out to her limbs.

Beside her Daryl shifted, pulling her closer to him. His movements were softer than usual as if he was frightened that he would break her if he moved too quickly or held too tightly. Tight was what she needed though, tight was safe, tight was grounded. So she tried to show him without telling him, pressing herself even tighter into him. He knew what she needed, he always did and when he tightened his arms she sighed, letting her eyes slip closed.

Daryl’s hand found the small of her back, rubbing slow, deliberate circles there. It sent shivers through her, a buzzing electricity running a current under her skin. It felt good, it felt normal, like this was how it was supposed to be. There was a rightness about this moment, how long had she waited to have him like this? It was hard to even remember when the gratitude at being saved turned into something else, but it had.

Without opening her eyes, she sighed, “Sleep.” She whispered. Tangling her hand under his arm, she entwined her fingers with his, keeping his hand still. The day was too heavy suddenly, pulling every part of her body down under its weight. She was so tired now like she had run too fast, for too long. Sleep pulled at her now but she was dimly aware of Daryl’s voice in the darkness. She felt the feeling of his lips placing soft kisses on her head.

What a thing to fall asleep to, she thought, fingers tightening around his a fraction, ‘Maybe I’m dreaming.’

 

Notes:

Soooooo, they kissed finally! I have been in agony over this for so long I cant even tell you. I swear I re wrote it 10 times before I got the final product. Please tell me what you think! I love you all!!

Chapter 29: Just a moment

Notes:

I'm back! So the posting is going to be a little less frequent as my beta reader and up and moved to the other side of the world *cries*
I liked writing this chapter so I hope you all enjoy reading it! I'm so excited for where this story is heading.

 

The morning light finds them still in bed, nothing but a tangle of limbs and sheets. They seemed frozen, unmoving in their perfect moment. Sunlight didn’t care about how happy they looked, it shone hot and bright through the curtains. The light tickles her eyelids, Pandora finds her eyes flickering open hand coming up to cover them. Beside her Daryl shifted still sleeping, pulling her closer hiding his face in her hair. With a sigh, she relaxed against his hold but couldn’t close her eyes again.

Pandora allowed the stillness to wash over her as she stared at him. This was something she had rarely seen, Daryl so calm and relaxed. He looked so much younger like this, deep worry lines fading away in his sleep. He slept deeply still with her frame pressed against him he didn’t even stir at her small movements. Unable to help herself, she leaned her head upwards lips brushing the stubble of  his chin.

That was the movement that woke him, she felt the change in his breathing the slight shift in his muscles. He was tightening his arms around her, blue eyes blinking open slowly.

“Mornin’” He whispered it into her hair and face pressed against her head.

“Hi.” Her response was mumbled since she had now pressed her face in the hollow of his neck. They stayed like that unmoving curled up together for a while longer. She couldn’t bring herself to move as if that would bring them back to reality.

“Yah gonna get up?”

Pandora laughed fingers tangling in the material of his shirt. “No, let's stay here. Just us.” She wants him to stay like this, warm and relaxed pressed against him.

Daryl doesn’t answer her, only makes a sound in his throat before pulling her in tighter. She feels his fingers under her chin, and she is going slack allowing him to move her head. She stares into his eyes, it's her that closes the gap though. Pressing her lips to his, softer this time wanting to savour him.

He responds with the same softness hand gently cupping her cheek deepening the kiss. There is a stirring in her chest, she is almost sure she is going to explode with the pressure of it. She opens her mouth a fraction enough for her tongue to peek out. The moment she licked his lip he was stopping her, firm hands on her shoulders.

Daryl put space between them watching her through strands of his hair. Blinking hard she ran her finger lightly on her lips missing the sensation of him.

“Are you  ok?” She asked craning her head to get closer to him. Daryl lifted his hand to her face stroking it with gentle fingers. He closed his eyes hands running over her face as if he was trying to memorize her. She tried to move her head enough to kiss him again, but he dodged her.

“Pan wait,” He pulled himself into a sitting position, eyes still boring holes into her. “Yah ok, right? With this? With me?”

Pandora had to stopped moving for a moment, still herself rather than trying to reach for his lips. She couldn’t quite understand what he was really asking her. Was she ok with what? Kissing him? Was there a universe where he thought she wouldn’t want to kiss him. He had spent the night in her bed, he had woken to her kissing him why would he need to ask.

Pulling the blankets back over herself she curled into his chest again, “I’m fine. I like this, I like you.”

Some of the stiffness she felt in his frame melted as she moved closer. He was still sitting up though unwilling to curl back into the bed with her.

“Ya hungry?” Daryl asked brushing a stray hair from her face. Silently she nodded still curled under the covers. “Stay then lazy Ah'll bring it.” As he got up, he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

Tucked under the blankets she watched him go only when his figured retired did she sit up in the bed letting the blankets pool around her waist. Her fingers brushed the spot Daryl had just left, it was still warm she wasn’t dreaming after all.

Downstairs she heard him in the kitchen, opening cupboards and what not. She wondered what he was making, not that he could really cook. But since their deal with the Hilltop meals had become more balanced, Hilltop had given them fresh fruit, veggies. Life within the walls was good this was the best anything had been in a long time.

That piece of information rattled in her brain for a few moments, until it began to grow into something different. Did she deserve anything this good? She thought about the families they had left in the apartment building, the children she had left in favor of her own family.

Shame flared choking off her air, her hands shook as she tried to press her eye lids. In her head Denise’s voice sounds delivering clear in instructions for beating the panic.

“Take a step back.” She told herself out loud. Like a movie she paused the thoughts trying to stop them, put them away somewhere else.

She had done what she had to do to get to this place. Not everyone can be saved. Besides, she had been punished, enough hadn’t she? Wasn’t this the small light at the end of a tunnel she had been fighting so hard for? It was and if anyone fucking deserved this she did.

But still sometimes her mind was a dangerous place and in the dark corners voices always whispered to her, calling her the monster.

In the time, it took for her to calm down Daryl came back. He only had to glance at her sitting up knees pulled into her chest to know she was panicking. Whatever he held in his hands he left on the side table filling his arms with her instead. Pressed against him panic began to leach from her muscles. She counted slowly breath in five, breath out five, and again and again until his voice stopped her.

“Yah ok?” His voice rumbled inside her rib cage.

Silent she nodded against him pressing her head deeper into his chest. She was better, the panic no longer tried to make its home inside her chest anymore. Her breathing had become a slow steady intake a breath again.

“Come ‘on them eat.”

Daryl shifted a fraction only to lean over and reach for the bowls, he kept her close though tucking her under his free arm.  they sat in silence eating the oatmeal and fresh fruit he brought. She didn’t want to talk about what had happened and he didn’t seem inclined to ask. Which suited her fine really.

Some days were better than others always. But this was too different. Sure, she wanted it. Whatever this new relationship they had entered but still her brain rebelled against anything new, be it good or bad. This was oh so good though, having him just like this. She stole glances at him from over the rim of her bowl, he caught her a few times but he only turned red shaking his head at her.

“Can we go for a ride?”

Outside their open window there was the sounds of their little town coming alive. Usually it was calming but today, today she didn't want any part of it. The room was too hot suddenly and the idea of all the eyes outside of this room was unsettling.  She wanted to be alone with him, to sort out some of her head in silence.

“Ain’t you gotta see Rosita and the Doc?”

Daryl asked taking the empty bowl she has forgotten in her hands. She watched him place them on his nightstand.

The last thing she wanted to do was therapy. She didn’t feel like explaining last night's events to anyone yet. Not even Denise. Just the image of Denise making notes in her book made her angry. Sometimes she felt like a science experiment. Her trauma went in that book nothing else, not the happy things. She hated the idea of putting her and Daryl in the fucking book.

“No.” Slipping from the bed she grabbed a random assortment of clothing and headed for the bathroom to change. Daryl could never say no to her anyway, he would take her no matter what.

When she stepped back out of the bathroom the room was empty, bed made dirty dishes gone. Her stomach tightened daily living activities still escaped her notice sometimes, it was all too easy for her to get lost in her own head.

Leaving her room, she wandered downstairs, she finds Daryl in the kitchen drying the last of the dishes he had washed.

“I am terrible at housekeeping.” Pandora muttered leaning on the counter arms tightly crossed over her chest.

Daryl left the towel on the counter and came to her. His arms looped around her waist pulling her close.

“Ah got it, for both of us.”

“Daryl Dixon a man full of surprises.” Her tone was light despite the shame she felt curling in her gut. She eyed him through the hair that had fallen in front of her face. He was smiling down at her just a small one the corner of his mouth lifting an itch.

“Can Ah?”

She didn’t let him finish only kissed him again harder this time and he sighed into her mouth.

“Ah could get use to this.” He said when they broke apart, he pressed his forehead to hers, “We should go then before someone comes looking for yah.”

Pandora doesn’t waste a moment only tangles her fingers her in his and pulls him towards the door. They are peeling out of the gate before anyone really notices they’re gone.

They roll back into Alexandria some hours later, passing Rosita and Spencer speaking outside Rosita’s place. Daryl lets her slip off the bike as he puts it away leaving her standing in their driveway. A pang of interest makes her turn to watch Rosita again but when Spencer turns to leave, Spencer catches her eye, she looks away. As she turns back to Rosita, she realizes she are outside medical, and that Denise is coming to the door. Both women turn to them eyes fixed on what she can assume is Daryl behind her. Denise waves and gestures at them, Pandora is sure she is about to ask where she has been so she heads towards them Daryl behind her hand on the small of her back.

There is already a conversation happening when they step towards them, and Pandora is trying to puzzle out the looks of both Denies’ and Rosita’s face. The mix of emotion on them both is hard for her to understand finally she stops trying. Wrapping her arm inside of Daryl’s she tries to get the rest of the conversation.

“After I got out of DC, I just drove. I remember seeing it right when I had no idea where I was going. Then I saw it Edison’s Apothecary and Boutique. It’s just this little gift shop in a strip mall, but if it's really an apothecary they had drugs.”

Pandora knows right away what Denise wants, it's written all over her face the despiration. Denise wants to go outside of the walls she wants to go with them to that store. Them, her use of the word is so easy, she is part of them now.

“How do you know they still got ‘em? Daryl is quick to be the first to speak, eyes fixed on the doctor.

“It isn’t that far, I just want to check.”

From her spot beside Daryl she pinched him, he stiffens under her but never looked over at her. She was trying to warn him and he was ignoring her, damn it. He has the ability to be gentle to soften the harsh edges of his words, and that is what he needs to do right now.  

“And you and Rosita aren’t out scavenging or pulling shifts.”

Pandora leaned against him harder. Still, he ignores her making no move to pull her closer or push her away. She feels like a child tugging at her parent’s pant leg for attention.

“We’ll go.”

“I wanted to check.” Denise is steeling herself, she had taught Pandora to do the same thing.  “I just wanted to help.”

Daryl isn’t having it he scoffs inching forward towards Denise. “How much time you spend out there?”

“None.”

“Forget it.” Daryl’s turning now, he’s trying to pull Pandora with him. But she wiggles out of his grip and rests her hand on Denise’s arm.

Denise looks down patting Pandora’s hands gently. “I can ID the meds. I know how to use a machete now. I’ve seen roamers up close. I’m ready.”

Pandora wanted to tell her she wasn’t ready, no one would ever be ready.

“You good with this?” He shoots towards Rosita standing behind the Doctor arms crossed stiffly over her chest.

“No.” Rosita snapped her signature sneer on her face.

“I’ll go with you.” Pandora offered in a small voice. Daryl is by her side again her eyes flicker up only to be met with his hard stare.

“Like hell you will.” Daryl growls shaking his head.

“I’ll go alone if I have too!” Denise fired back.

Pandora stood beside Daryl now who was already half turned to leave, clearly finished with the conversation. Pandora could understand this side of Denise, the need to do something, to want to help in some way. She knew the Doctor was the most important person here, but with no one to save every day she was sure if didn’t feel like it.

“You’ll die alone.” Daryl commented in Denise’s direction. Pandora let out a small gasp hitting him in the arm. He looked down at her raising his eyebrows in question knowing he isn’t wrong.

But Denise was unphased, “I’m asking you to make sure I don’t.”

There was a moment of silence, Daryl was looking at her, then allowing his gaze to slide Rosita. He was thinking about it she could tell, with Daryl it was always best to play to his protective side, something Pandora had learned early.

“I’m not babysitting her by myself.” Rosita added hand on her chest.

“I’m coming.” Pandora added her voice stronger now eyes on Daryl challenging him to say something to her. Instead he flung his hands up cursing under her breath storming away from her.

Despite herself she threw a wink in Denise’s direction before running off the join Daryl as he headed towards the house. Behind her Rosita cursed and fumed as well muttering something about more babysitting but the rest she didn’t catch moving to far away.

At the house, she could hear him slamming around his room, she ignored it grabbing a backpack and filling it with supplies. An extra knife tucked into her boots, two more at her waist and gun in its holster. But when she turns to leave her room Daryl is in the doorway, body drawn in a tight line.

“Yah ain’t comin’ “He snaps tone darker laced tight with anger.

Blinking she is somewhat startled at this side of him, but only shakes her head pulling the back tighter on her back. “I’m going, and so are you, and so is Rosita and Denise.”

“Like hell yah are,” He nearly growls the word fingers tightening on the doorframe. “Ah aint takin’ yah out there with them.”

Anger flares up now hot and bright in her chest. She works god damn hard everyday to make sure she can do these things, to make sure she isn’t some sheltered basket case hiding in the walls. Daryl doesn’t get to pick and choose her runs for her.  “And why the hell not? I’ve gone before with you and Rick.”

Daryl is shaking his head hair covering his eyes, he’s trying to control himself she can tell.

“It ain’t the same, Ah don’t gotta watch Rick just you. There too many people coming Pan!” He’s choking on the words brain moving too quick. “Shit goes down Ah gotta get you out. It's always you first, then what happens to Rosita? the Doc? Huh?”

By the time he gets the rest of the sentence out he is breathless and shouting. Pandora is unfazed though slipping up in front of him she snakes her arms around his waist. She can almost touch the tension between them as if it were its own person. He relaxes against her though pressing his face into her hair, breathing slowing down.

“It's always you first.”

“I will be safe. I trust you to keep us all safe.” Letting go of him she grabs his face gently forcing him to look at her now. “I trust you to keep me safe Daryl.”

He kisses her then it's slow, soft and gentle.  But there is something else there a desperation coiled tight, it lurks just there under his skin.

“It ain’t the same anymore.” He whispers forehead resting against hers.

Pandora can’t help but laugh placing another quick kiss on his lips before stepping from the circle of his arms.

“I think it’s been like this for a while."

Notes:

Well there you have it! Again I loved writing this chapter, I like playing with the dynamic between Daryl and Pandora with her newly formed independence. We are moving into some really exciting stuff I can't wait to share the next few chapters with you guys! Leave me some love!

Chapter 30: Downfall

Notes:

Surprise here I am!! I am sorry about the infrequent posting guys. Still love me? I do hope so. I hope you guys stick with me because we are going places people, and I for one am excited.

The front seat of the pickup truck doesn’t fit all of them. Pandora glanced around and tried to suggest as casually as she could to Rosita to sit in the back so Rosita joins her. She sees the stare Daryl gives her the moment she offers and hopes no one else does. Her head is already full of him, the idea of close quarters with him right now is enough to send her head spinning. She has to be able to think so Pandora settled in the back of the pickup truck, knees tucked tightly into her chest.

“So…” Rosita said from beside her, eyes straight ahead, letting the question hang in the air. Pandora flinched, so everyone had seen the looks pass between her and Daryl.

Pandora thinks for only a moment until she speaks, “I kissed him, last night, this morning, and just now.” She lifts one hand, gripping the side of the truck as it lurches under her. She had half a mind to bang on the glass behind her and ask when Daryl became such a terrible driver, but the sound of Rosita laughing brought her back to the present moment.

“What?” Pandora asked, glaring at the other woman.

“Nothing, you were very detailed.” Rosita has stopped laughing now, but was still watching her. “I’m happy for you.”

The words were odd to Pandora, maybe it was because she really had no name for this new  relationship if they could even call it that. It was something new though, and soon they would need to talk about this new thing, but not right now.

“Thanks, I guess. I don’t really know what the fuck I’m doing.”

Rosita was laughing again, “Neither does anyone else.”

The truck under her lurched forwards, gears scraping and grinding. Pandora screwed her eyes shut, trying to picture something calmer. Under her, the truck stopped and she could right herself again.

With a grunt, she hoisted her frame over the end of the truck. In seconds, she is on the ground knees bending to take the shock of her landing.

The road ahead of them is blocked by a thick tree laying across the road. From under the tree, the groan of the dead reached her. Daryl and Rosita get out as well, Denise doesn’t. Pandora isn’t going to allow herself to be side lined, not when she had fought so hard to get here. When she draws her gun out, Daryl moves immediately, like his ears are trained to her movements.

“Stay here, watch our backs and watch the Doc.” He says before glancing around and stepping over the tree, disappearing into the bush.

Pandora stands right where he left her, fingers in a white-hot grip around the handle of the gun. Every sound seems sharper to her now, she tilts her head to the side, trying to follow the sounds of Daryl moving.

It wasn’t long before he came back to her side, fingers brushing her elbow lightly.

“It’s clear.” He says, voice low. “Yah alright?”

Pandora nods slowly, lowering her gun and relaxing the grip a fraction.
They all begin moving and she falls in line behind Denise, her gaze flicking between her and Daryl.

“What did you find?” Denise was asking Rosita, who Pandora now noticed was holding a small plastic bag.

“Bottles of booze. Any takers?” Rosita answered.

The events of the other night played in her head, the feather light feeling she had after her shot.

“Me!” She pipes up from the back, holding out her hand for one.

“No thanks.” Denise answers, shoving the knife in her belt.

Rosita only laughs, “For later. I’m not bringing these to the pantry.”
Pandora closed her hand, lowering it back to her side before slipping up next to Daryl again.

“I’m good.” Denise says pulling her map from her bag. “They were kind of my parents thing. Which is why they aren’t mine.”

Pandora lets her gaze slid over to the doctor when they all stop. In all of this time she didn’t know anything about the other woman, not from her life before. Pandora had sat with her many times pouring out her life and her struggles, but she didn’t even really know the person she was talking to. Daryl laces his fingers with her own, that movement tugs her back to the present moment.

“That truck ain’t gonna make it past this tree. Com’on, let’s walk.”

He doesn’t even give them time to answer him, he is already walking and tugging her along with him. She doesn’t object, he would keep her safe so with him is where she should be anyway.

“Hold up,” Denise called out. Daryl stops in his tracks, turning to glare back thus causing him to turn her as well. “Looks like a straight shot if we follow the tracks.”

Pandora walks forward with him not dropping his hand, but she turns a bit to stare down the tracks. The path looks clear, sunlight streaking through the branches. It’s less used this way, she can tell. The tree would provide nice cover and allow for them to hear anyone approaching them.

“No,” Pandora holds back the urge to roll her eyes she knows that tone. “No tracks. We’ll take the road.”

“That’s twice as far!” Rosita shouts to their backs.

She is talking to their backs now because Daryl has already turned to the road with Pandora at his side. “You go whichever way you like! Ah ain’t taking no tracks.”

Somewhere in her head she remembers a story about a place along the train tracks, a place they thought would be safe. She understands his refusal, Rosita should too since she was there if her memory is right. Pandora doesn’t hear whatever is said between Rosita and Denise, only sees the Doctor coming up behind them.

“Took long enough.” Denise mutters. When Pandora looks up, she realizes the Doctor is staring at her and Daryl’s entwined fingers.

Heat rises up her neck, colouring her cheeks slightly. She makes sure not to meet the doctor’s eyes. This conversation was one she was not ready to have yet. The rest of the walk is spent in silence. Denise tries to make conversation a few times, but Daryl always shuts it down, intent on spending the trip not speaking. Pandora can't be mad, she knows where the anxiety, now rolling off him in waves, comes from. He is here with her and Denise, if anything happened he couldn’t keep them all safe.

“Everything is fine,” She whispers, fingers tugging at his. “We are all safe.”

He doesn’t answer, only grunts and picks up the pace. For the first few steps he is pulling her along, the movement too sudden for her to keep her footing. She rights herself matching his pace again.

Around them the scenery changes, densely packed trees give way to a few homes. Those few homes before more closely packed together until they are walking through a small neighbourhood. It’s not long before Pandora spots Rosita, and then she is the one pulling Daryl along.

“Bout time.” Rosita scoffs, coming out of her spot to meet them.
Daryl didn’t speak, but Pandora saw the glare he shot in Rosita’s direction. He didn’t stop, only pulled her along past the other women.

Only when they had gone a few steps ahead did she tug him back silently, asking him to slow down.

“Daryl, it worked out fine. Rosita was ready and waiting.”

Daryl only grunted again, she sighed, deciding not to try another attempt at conversation. It was best to leave him when he was like this, let him rage in peace.

She understood, she really did, but she had come so far now and she was more able to take care of herself. This wasn’t any different from when she had come with Daryl and Rick. This might even be easier since they had hardly seen any of the dead and hadn’t heard anything save for the one under the tree.

They all follow the road, it takes them away from the deserted area and leads them into a small city. There is the strip mall like Denise said, it had long since been abandoned. The surrounding streets are littered with bodies, some long dead, others not. For a moment Pandora is looking at the bodies and she isn’t there anymore. Instead, she is walking through a camp the wolves had just taken, the dead left scattered carelessly on the ground like these ones. There is sensation of phantom rope on her wrists, a tugging as if someone is pulling her forward.

The flashback is almost all encompassing, almost. The real world demands her attention and gets it by allowing her to stumble on the outstretched hand of a corpse. The movement jolts her back into the moment.

“Pandora?” Daryl’s voice tickles her ear. Blinking, he is right there at her side, putting firm pressure on her elbow.

“Ya?” She blinks again, gaze sweeping the area around her to remind her of where she is. “Sorry, I’m fine, I just got distracted.”

Rosita is looking at them now although trying to appear like she isn’t. Pandora can tell though, and there is a mix of strange emotions playing on her face. Anger twisted her features for a second, then it was gone. As she catches Pandora looking, Rosita turns away with a scoff.

Daryl moves towards the door, obviously satisfied by her answer. He knocks on the door, not loud enough to bring anything from far, but enough to bring any of the dead from inside to the door. Seconds tick by in silence while Pandora waits with her breath held in her lungs for the sounds of the dead, but they are all met by only the same, uneasy stillness.

“Alright me and her are gonna do this.” He gestures to Rosita, eyes flicking between Pandora and Denise. “Yah both gonna stay back, got it?”

Pandora doesn’t see what Denise says, but Pandora’s answer is clear. “No fucking way. I’m going in with you. I will be last to watch you two and Denise.”

Her chest puffs out with a bit of pride as that seemed like a great plan. Everyone would be happy, she would be close to the door if she needed to run close to the Doc, perfect. Daryl stares at her though, mouth formed into a hard line.

“Fine, I’m in front, then Daryl, then you.” Rosita rolled her eyes and doesn’t try to hide her scowl. Pandora doesn’t care though, since she got what she wanted anyway.

Pandora smiles, pulling out her knife. Daryl is busy trying to avoid her gaze as he shifts through the contents of his bag pulling out the crowbar and using it to pry the doors open.

They all stand there again, breath held while they wait. Again, nothing happens, nothing moves or comes towards them, it's empty. One door is open all the way now but Daryl is opening both doors to allow the sunlight to flood in inside. Rosita goes in first, her steps still slow and careful, always ready. Daryl throws a glance back at her for a second before entering himself.

Pandora steps in behind him, the smell hits her full in the face causing her hand to fly up. There was something dead inside here, something that had been dead for a long time. The whole place stank of it, meaning nothing had been open for a while. From behind her she hears Denise gagging. It doesn’t take long for her to get used to the smell, Pandora has been in the company of worse. She doesn’t allow herself to go there now though, forcing her brain to fast forward over the next thoughts.

“We gonna find out what you had for breakfast?” Daryl asks Denise, his tone laced with a mild annoyance. His nerves are thin, she knows this, but it’s giving him a nasty edge, something she’s hardly seen while he is in her company.

“Oatmeal, just so you know.” Denise’s answer is light hearted, a sharp contrast to the current mood.

Pandora would never admit it when asked, but she is stressed. Her anxiety feeling like a slow creeping monster up her spine. She follows closely behind Daryl who, without looking back, reaches for her hand. He must know, must be reading her mind or her energy or something. Or maybe it’s that they are more alike than they realize, he knows what she is feeling because he feels it too. Before it was nothing, a run with Daryl like always, but life outside of the walls was always unpredictable. Inside this store for some reason, the danger was beginning to seem monstrous.

As Pandora walks with him, she tries to steer her mind in a different direction. Her eyes go to the store around her, drinking in every detail. It's un-looted, all the displays and merchandise still intact resting on dust covered shelves. It’s a odd little shop with clothes, bags, herbs, candles and other random items.

“Anything you like?” Daryl asks her as she was stopped in front of a jewelry display.

There is enough lightness in her still to smile at him, slipping up next to him and putting her head on his shoulder.

“I don’t know, pick something.” She mutters her fingers trail over the glass. its pretty, she's never been much for jelewery really. She was always training and she couldn't wear any of that in the training gym.

He is really trying she can tell, trying to be what she needs right now: a calm influence. Watching, he snaps the lock on the case, hand reaching for a necklace in the back row. It’s a beautiful, silver chain with a tree encased in a circle. The tree’s roots run deep, and its branches reach high.

“Ah like this one.” He mutters as he unhooks the clasps to slip it around her neck.

“I love climbing trees.” She whispers, her fingers brushing the tree where it hung at her chest.

“Hey,"

Rosita’s voice carried over to them. She had her flashlight turned up to a sign that said pharmacy. Right, the thing they were actually here for: more medicine. Daryl moved from her side, crowbar in hand, ready to pry the metal of the window open. It doesn’t give on the first try, so Pandora stands back to give him some space to work.

“Do you want me to hold your bags or something?” Denise is behind them holding her light towards Daryl. No one moves to answer her, Pandora slipping away to the side to look around more.

When it finally clicks open Daryl pushes up the metal screen to reveal an almost stocked pharmacy. Pandora is jumping over the counter and inside first, she doesn’t quite make out all the conversation taking place behind her, but hears someone say to take everything. She goes with that and heads in to look for something useful. She finds what she wants right away a few bottles of different anxiety meds. They all get shoved into her bag, along with a new bottle of Xanax.

She moved on, scanning the shelves. With a shrug, she opens her bag and clears them of everything. They can sort it out at home, better to just bring it all. As she moves to read more bottles, she notices that Daryl and Rosita have stopped moving, they are both leaning out the little window. She hears it then, a thud, thud, thud. She can't quite place where it might be coming from and no one seems bothered by it.

“it's just one.” Rosita comments offhandedly before turning back inside.

Pandora is slipping up next to Daryl now, bag full of pills jingling. He knows, like always, that she’s anxious so he puts a hand on the small of her back to turn her back to the shelves where the sound isn’t as loud.

“It sounds like it's stuck.” The words are said out loud to everyone, but she knows they were meant for her because as soon as they reached her, he was slipping back into his alise.  

Only when they were all gone did she allow her shoulders to slump a fraction. “It’s stuck.” She whispered to herself, hands tightening on the strap of the bag between her fingers. She decides to stay there, her bag feeling full enough from before. She will just wait right here where she can still hear everything. For a while, it’s the background noise of Daryl and Rosita filling their bags that is helping to calm her down.

Behind her, glass shattered sending a shock through her. Daryl was at her side before she had even fully turned her head towards the sound.

“What the hell are you doing?” Rosita snaps, face hard.

Pandora flinches, the edge in Rosita’s tone scraping her nerves even more.

“Nothing.” Denise’s voice is low, but strained.

Pandora turns then to see the Doctor holding a glass vase, they lock eyes for a second then Denise is gone heading for the front door.

“Pandora? Pandora?” Daryl is calling her name, shaking her shoulder lightly. “Com’on stay with me now.”

Pandora isn’t sure how much time it takes for them to finish, only knows they are done and Daryl is leading her towards the front. She pictures them heading for the door, but shuts her eyes to the movement.

When the sunlight hits her face she turns her head towards it, seeking the warmth. Once outside, she can hear Denise. Opening her eyes, Pandora glanced over her face. Denise looks tired, trying and failing to wipe the tears on her cheeks.

“Hey,” Daryl breaks the silence and the rumble in her chest wakes her a bit more. “Yah did good finding this place.”

Denise doesn’t answer, she can't as her face is splitting into pure agony. Pandora’s heart breaks for her, she knows what it's like to see what the world outside has become. Inside the walls it was easy to forget what had happened to the world. Pandora had been out here since the beginning, going from one place to another before she was taken. The world was ugly but she had come to accept it.

“Tried to tell you, you weren’t ready.” Rosita’s face is hard, but she is trying to soften the edges. “We both did.”

“I know,” Her voice is tiny, so tiny that Pandora has to strain to hear it. “I know.”

Pandora steps away from Daryl to lower herself down onto the ground beside Denise. It should frighten her really, watching the woman who held her together falling apart. But this was something she could understand, this fear of the new world. She lived with it every day, no matter how strong she became there was still always the taste of fear in her mouth.

They sat beside each other for a few silent moments before Denise patted her arm gently as she stood. Daryl moved in front of her, hand held out to help her up. She took it, holding it tightly in her own, deciding then that she wasn’t going to let him go until they got home.

They started walking back towards where they had all met where the tracks crossed over the road. They walked until the surrounding buildings thinned out slowly; the landscape around them changing ever so slightly. Pandora watched silently like always, marking each house and body on the map in her head. It's so quiet again that the storm in her head is quiet too. Pandora walked at Daryl’s side, one hand held a gun, the other held her smaller one tightly.

“So was he older or younger?” Beside her Daryl had slowed their pace to walk next to Denise.

“Older.” Denise answered, her lips pulled up into a small smile. “By six minutes. My parents came up with the Dennis/Denise thing on one of their benders. Hilarious right?”

When neither of them answered she went on, “Nothing scared him, he was brave. He was angry too though, kind of a dangerous combination.”

His hand shifts around Pandora’s holding tighter for only a second before relaxing. “Sounds like we had the same brother.” He tried to make his tone light but failed.

They came to the point where the tracks met the road. In front, Rosita and Denise kept walking on the road. It was Daryl who moved away, tugging her along with him towards the tracks.

“Hey.” Rosita called somewhere behind them.

“This way’s faster right?” He asked, pointing with his free hand down the path of the train tracks. He doesn’t wait for anyone to answer him, instead he leans down just to her. “Ahm taking you home ok?”

Sighing, she nods slowly, “I’m fine, really. I promise.”

It's not a lie really, she is right here with them now, feeling only her every day anxiety and nothing more. Being out of the store helped, nothing like the feeling of being trapped to cause her anxiety to flare. Out here in the open it was different.

An opening in the trees leads them to a path littered with cars on one side. The area had been deserted for some time, it had the look of an camp set up in the beginning. A tent was pitched towards the tree line, flap flying open.

“There's a cooler in there! Might have something we could use inside.”

Denise is somewhere behind them, but when Pandora tries to look, Daryl tugs her forward.

“No we got what we came for.” Rosita is ahead of them though, Pandora doesn’t really understand when that happened.

“Nah,” His voice is a low rumble through her chest when she is pressed this close to him. “Ain’t worth the trouble, come on.”

They keep walking along the tracks, confident that Denise will just follow. It’s not until they hear Denise scream that they stop, heads whipping back towards the sound. In a flash Daryl is running and she’s left standing on the tracks alone. When they don’t come back for a moment she wanders over to them, only to find Denise bent over throwing up.

“Ah man, I threw up on my glasses.” Denise mutters picking them up off the floor, she shoves them in her pocket before turning to inspect the cooler.

Daryl has noticed Pandora is there now so he puts his arm around her, holding her tight against him. She watches the Doctor pull out a six pack of pop, five black and one orange. Pandora isn't sure what happened here, but when she sees the car door open and a walker dead on the floor she can only assume Denise killed it. Part of Pandora is proud of her, despite the vomiting Denise had done well.  

Denise pulls the orange one and stares at it. “Hot damn.” Denise is grinning at the orange can.

“What the hell was that?” Daryl barks at her, biting off the end of each word. “You could have died right there, you know that?”

“Ya I do.”

“Are you hearing me?” He thunders, she stiffens against the harshness of it.

“Who gives a shit!” Denise roars. “You could have died killing those Saviours, both of you, but you didn’t. Pandora could have died leading the herd away and she didn’t. You wanna live, you take chances. That’s how it works. That’s what I did.”

“For a couple of damn soda’s?” Daryl sneers.

“Nope, just this one.” Denise holds the orange can as she passes them, Rosita shakes her head but follows.

“Are you seriously that stupid?” Rosita asks when she finally catches up. Daryl and Pandora right behind her.

“Are you?” Denise stops now looking towards them. “I mean it are you? Do you have any clue what this was to me? What this whole thing is to me? I have training in this shit. I’m not making it up as I go along like with the stitches or the surgery and the other stuff.” She whips her head towards Daryl, full heat of her rage on him. “I asked you to come with me because you're brave like my brother and sometimes you actually make me feel safe.” Denise turns to Rosita now, but her face has already softened. “And I wanted you here because you’re alone. Probably for the first time in your life. You're stronger than you think you are, which gives me hope that maybe I can be too.” She’s watching Pandora now who answers with a small smile. “I could’ve gone with Tara, I could’ve told her I loved her, but I didn’t because I was afraid. That’s what’s stupid. Not coming out here, not facing my shit. And it makes me sick to see that you guys aren't even trying because you’re strong and you’re smart and you're both really good people, but if you don’t wake up…”

When the bolt pierces her eye, Denise falters for a second. Pandora feels the impact as if she’s been hit, all the air escapes her lungs in a gasp. Something inside her shatters feeling like glass breaking into a million pieces. The arrow drove right through her eye, red tip dripping blood onto the front of Denise’s shirt.

“And face your…” Denise doesn’t finish, only wavers on her feet before finally dropping to the ground. Pandora screams, a deep sound from the hollow of her stomach, all burning rage and pain.

Pandora thinks that broken look on Daryl’s face will haunt her forever as she watches him struggle to catch Denise.  It only takes the sound of one twig snapping to bring Daryl and Rosita back though right away. Daryl and Rosita cock their guns and take a moment to aim while figures stream from the trees, Pandora doesn’t take a moment. She is flying into motion, small sleek handled blade held tightly in her right hand.

She’s quick and small, it helps her get behind one of the men before jumping on his back. The man that she lands on grunts and tries to pull her off, but she’s too fast, slashing a thick red line across his neck. Blood pours from the wound, washing her arms in the warm liquid. She hit an artery so he will be dead in seconds. She takes two more breaths before the man stops moving, dropping his full weight on the floor under her.

When the bolt fired this time, it doesn’t feel the same, there is no pain. It pierces her right shoulder like a hot knife going through butter, but she doesn’t feel anything except warmth. Somewhere behind her, Daryl makes a strangled sound as Pandora tumbles to the floor. Her knees collide with one of the metal tracks and the impact makes the arrow in her shoulder shake, causing a hiss of pain.

“You drop’em now.”The man from the burnt forest shouts at them, his words knocking around in her brain.

Pain clouded her head, but she tries to remember his name. The cold metal knife is still held tightly in her left hand, muscles tightening around it.

Dwight, it was Dwight. Struggling to stay on her knees, she lifts her head enough to make out Dwight shoving Eugene to the floor with one hand and the other hand holding the crossbow. The crossbow that’s bolt was making a home in her right shoulder. Her pain-wracked brain tries to understand what Eugene is even doing there.

“Well, hell.” He breathed from in front of her. “I was better with the second shot.” Dwight laughed, taking in Pandora’s crumpled form. The world dips and sways around her, bile forcing its way up her throat.

Daryl makes another sound somewhere between a snarl and a curse. Pandora tries to turn to look at him, even just for a second, she doesn’t make it though. The movement is too much and her body gives up, hitting the ground hard on her left side. Dwight leers at her before snapping his face back up to her friends.

“You got something to say to me?” She knows he is talking to Daryl now, pictures Dwight’s disfigured face sneering at him. “You gonna clear the air? Step up on the high horse? No, you don’t talk much.”

The men’s boots cross through her field of vision. She hears them behind her, taking the weapons like they asked them to the last time. She tries to turn again, but her body refuses to take orders. The pain is bright and hot, spreading like a wildfire. She feels the tears then, a pain, choked sob coming free.

Dwight grins at Rosita, leaning on the cross bow lightly. “Still getting the hang of her. Gets better every time though.” As he finishes, his toe finds the bolt inside her and kicks. The sound she makes is more animal than human, black spots crowd her vision as she tries to blink them away. “Kicks like a bitch but…”

“Ah should’ve done it.” Daryl’s voice is so low, she almost doesn’t catch what he says.

“Oh, what’s that? Seriously, I didn’t catch what you said.”

“Ah should have killed yah.” Daryl replied.

Daryl’s voice is like a lifeline for the moment, keeping her grounded. It helps her fight the darkness, helps her battle against the white-hot pain in her shoulder.

“Yeah, you probably should have.” Dwight leans down now, fingers pulling the stray locks from her eyes. Her vision is clearing, but the only thing she sees is Dwight.
“So here we are. Kind of begs the question, right? Who brought this on who? I mean, I get that you’ll just have to take my word for it, but she wasn’t even the one I was aiming for. Like I said, kicks like a bitch.”

He stands again then, hand grasping the back of Eugene’s shirt. “It's nothing personal. Look, this isn’t how we like to start new business arrangements, but you pricks kind of set the tone didn’t you?”

A chill creeps into her bones now, starting at her toes and making its way to her chest.

“What do you want?” Rosita? Maybe? She is having a hard time understanding what she is hearing.

“I’m sorry Darlin’, I didn’t catch your name. I’m D or Dwight, what’s your name?”

There is a weight on her shoulder, a hand maybe. At least she thinks it’s a hand.

“Pan it’s me, yah hold still ok?”

Daryl had snuck up behind her, he had to be behind her because she couldn’t see him. Only feel his hand on her shoulder giving her a reassuring squeeze.

“Rosita. What do you want?”

“Well Rosita, it’s not what I want, it’s what you are going to do. You're going to let us into your little complex. It looks like it's just beautiful in here. Then you're going to let us take whatever and whoever we want…” His foot jerks out again, hitting the arrow causing her to scream and black out.

The beauty of the darkness doesn’t last long, it spit her out back into the day. Everything hurts, even the hairs on her head. The pain makes it hard to think, hard to even see. There’s a pounding coming from her shoulder, it expands through her body. She’s missed something important, that’s for sure. Conversation had kept going after she had blacked out.

“You wanna kill someone you start with our companion hiding over there behind the oil barrels. He’s a first-class a-hole, and he deserves it so much more than us.”

Eugene sounds scared, Pandora wished she could turn to see him. There is an order barked out, then nothing. Gunfire erupts around her and she is coherent enough to move. Trying to pull her frame up from the tracks, every movement makes her body scream in agony. Dwight is far from her, she sees him while trying to crawl back towards Daryl. Now that she hears him something snaps and a new sense of purpose fills her. Lifting herself on her good arm, she grabs for her knife to drag herself towards him. It’s a slow going on her knees, but she refuses to stop. He sees her coming though and once she is close enough, he grabs for her. His hand tightens around the bolt and he jerks it hard, sending her stumbling towards him. Screaming, she tries to push him away, but he has a hold on her. Panting with tears streaking her face she panics. Grinning, he gives the bolt another tug. Black swims in her vision again and she’s sobbing, begging despite herself.

The gunfire is closer now, she feels the displaced air just above her head. Somewhere she can hear Daryl screaming her name through the pain, she is almost sure he is telling her to get down. Dwight let’s go of the arrow, shoving her away as he rolls off the side of the tracks.

Even with the orchestra of gunfire around her there is a sense of calm. She knew that soon she would be gone soon, there wouldn’t be anything. No more pain, panic, fear, just nothing. If she could see Daryl though, that would be nice. The sounds around her die down as if she is swimming under water. It would be so easy to just lie down and wait for death. That’s the scary part, how easy it is to die.

She isn’t sure what happened, but she hears Rosita yelling, “Daryl stop! Help me!”

“Shit, Pandora fuck, fuck.” Daryl is more emotional than she has ever heard him.

‘It's because I’m dying.’ She thinks to herself and it must be true because she is sure he’s crying.

“It's gonna hurt ok? I’m sorry.” She hears Daryl say.

Then her vision is filled with nothing but white, it's like another bolt going right through her. The pain is blinding so she blacks out again, just for a moment.  Although when she comes back, she knows he has taken it out. She knows because they are moving, Daryl carrying her with nothing sticking out of her.

“Stay with me Pan,” Daryl leans his face down to hers, brushing his lips softly on her forehead. “Please Pandora.”

It’s the way he says her name that changes everything really, makes her begin to thrash and kick again to fight the growing darkness.

Notes:

I know, I know. I am a cruel and heartless person for what I did. I could have changed the story I know that! But this is really important to Pandora's story,. Beside no one is safe how fun would that be, none is the correct answer.

Chapter 31: The Hole

Notes:

Hello! I am still writing this fic, and I have up to chapter 37 written. I am looking for a beta reader at the moment, so if you know anyone or you are interested msg me!! Anyway here we go with a new chapter, I loved this one and they are only getting better.

Chapter 31

The Hole

Her dreams are different from before. That makes her think that she isn’t dreaming after all and she’s dead. She dreams about the wolves chasing her through the forest. The trees are dense around her, so tall and thick, that she can’t tell if it’s day or night. She dreams about Denise, the arrow sticking out of her eye, asking Pandora what number she’s on. When she tries to answer her, Denise is gone, and she is alone again.

Until she hears their footsteps in the trees. She runs, but it’s slow. The ground is uneven, twigs and roots catch her feet, making her stumble. The forest itself seems intent on making her its prey. She swears she can hear them behind her. They laugh and call out to her through the trees. Suddenly, it’s not them anymore. Now, it’s Daryl chasing her. He sounds so scared, screaming her name and crashing through the brush.

“Daryl!”

She screams for him now, spinning in one spot to try and find the direction of his voice. Something catches on a tree as she runs, she isn’t sure what stops her, but she only pulls harder against it. But when she can’t get free, she looks down at herself. The arrow in her shoulder is caught on a branch. She doesn’t remember how it got there, or when it got there. Hands shaking, she tries to pull herself loose. She’s numb, but blood gushes from the wound. It’s pooling on the floor under her, soaking into the earth. 

“You taught me the courage of stars before you left, how light carries on endlessly, even after.”

“Pandora, yah gotta wake up.”

It’s Daryl’s voice. It’s coming from somewhere else, from wherever the music is floating in from.

‘I’m dreaming,’ Pandora realizes now. Oh, course she’s dreaming. The blood still pours from her chest in a red river, but there is still no pain. She needs to wake up because she hears Daryl and she needs to wake up for him. In the woods, his voice is gone, he’s not screaming for her anymore. But somewhere else, she hears him in bits of conversation too far off for her to understand.

So, she fights again, just like before, tries whatever she can to wake herself up. Pinches herself, pulls at the arrow. Nothing. The footsteps are closer now, and when she listens like Daryl taught her to, she can hear the different sets of footsteps, five or six. She can’t make them out clearly though, can’t tell which direction they are coming from.

“Daryl!” she screams again, pulling the arrow loose from the tree, finally. She’s trying to run, but stops when blood-soaked vines curl up her legs, their thorns leaving bright red welts on her skin.

“Fuck!” She tries to claw them off, but they twist around her ankles painfully.

The music keeps playing overhead. Cursing and screaming again, she stops trying to pull at them, instead lets them drag her down to her knees. A twig snaps to her left. The voices float towards her, laughing and howling as they come through the trees. The sound of them chills her to the point where she is frozen in place. Somewhere overhead, she can still hear Daryl’s voice, but she is so tired. There is no more fight right now, she’s tired, so tired of it. Running, all she ever does is run. So, she stays there and waits for them to come.

“ Our mistakes, they were bound to be made. But I promise you, I’ll keep you safe. I’ll keep you safe.”

It’s the music that finds her again, but this time, the sound is clear and crisp. She opens her eyes and is met with a dim outlet of a room. The sound Pandora makes is somewhere between a sigh and a sob. Once the first sob comes, they don’t stop. Curling to her side, she cries. She’s awake, and everything hurts. She couldn’t be happier for the pain, it means that she’s alive. That only makes her cry harder. She was ready to lay down in her dreams, and now she’s in pain and it’s so sweet.

“Pandora! You're safe, it’s OK.”

It’s a woman’s voice, she’s sure, but she can’t quite focus enough to make out who it belongs to. The tears still came, pinpointed by the pain in her shoulder, and the pain in her chest. Because if she was here, awake and alive, that means that Denise isn’t. It means that it wasn’t all part of her nightmares. That part had been real, too real.

Somehow, a sound reaches her. The rustling of clothes, a door opening, shouting, then a door closing again. She can’t make out the words, not over the sound of her own sobbing.

“Pandora, you gotta lay back, OK?”

It’s Rosita, she realizes then. The women is in front of her, putting her hands on her shoulders, trying to push her onto her back. But Pandora can’t uncurl herself, not with the gaping hole in her chest. She’s sure if she pulls herself tight enough she can fill it with her own body. If she lays back, she’s too empty, too exposed.

“Pandora, you're bleeding!”

‘Oh.’

She is. There’s a warmth spreading over her chest now, a slower drip than when it had been a dream. The door behind her opens again. It’s left open and the light from the hallway illuminates Daryl’s form as he moves towards her. He comes to her side head dipping towards her own.

The door remains open, light spilling into the room. It’s a mess, every surface covered in clothes, books papers. It’s the room she had called home for months, still set up to house two people. Two beds, two chairs by the bay window. It’s darker now though, curtains pulled tight against the outside world, making the space small and stuffy.

“Pan, listen. Ahm right here, lemme help.”

The sound of Daryl’s voice triggers the picture of his face as he desperately tried to catch Denise as she fell. She remembers again, remembers where the first arrow had found its home. In her mind, she can see the doctor’s lifeless body dropping to the floor. The picture of Daryl’s broken face plays behind her now closed lids.  Another sob causes a lightning bolt of pain in her shoulder. Gasping, she falls forward in Daryl’s waiting arms.

“Hold her still.” Rosita is pulling her shirt up, shoving her arm out of her sleeve. “She tore a fucking stitch.”

Pandora doesn’t quite understand what Rosita means by that and she tries for a second to work it out in her head. Stitch, Rosita said, stitch. But it hurts, everything hurts so fucking much it’s hard for her to even think.

“Ahm sorry, it's gonna hurt, Pandora. Ahm so sorry,” Daryl keeps saying, lips pressed right against her ear. Her attention tunnels to him, focusing only on the sound of his voice, the feeling of his breath tickling her ear.

At the first prick of pain, Pandora gasps, understanding now what Rosita had meant. She was closing her wound again, right there with Pandora awake. The pain freezes the sounds in her mouth, causing her frame to stiffen against Daryl’s hold. She feels the needle breaking the skin, the string pulling the edges back together. Pandora tries to move away from the pain, but Daryl holds her still, his hands locked on her shoulders.

When it’s over, she sits slumped into Daryl’s chest, cheeks soaked with tears, her breathing shallow and labored. Rosita had closed the wound again and changed the dressings. Pandora can’t  quite be sure how long the whole thing took, but when she finally opens her eyes again, Rosita is leaning over into her field of vision.

“I’ll come back tomorrow,” Rosita says, her voice softer now. Her gaze lingers on them a second longer before she leaves, shutting the door.

“Daryl,” Pandora whispers, raising her left hand to grip his vest. “Did you, did you go.”

She struggles to find the words and when they don’t come to her, tears fill the space. She needs to know where the body is, if they left Denise or brought her back. But her tongue is too thick on her mouth, grief choking off her thoughts and words.

“Ah went back.” He knows what she is asking and when she hears it, some of the tension is gone. She knows somewhere in her head that he would never leave Denise’s body there, but she needed to hear it, she needed to be sure.  “Ya scared me.” He is leaning into her now, lips brushing her temple softly.

“I was dying, or I was ready to,” she whispers,  turning her head a fraction to catch his lips. “Then I heard you and I had to come back.”

“Thank yah,.” he whispers. Daryl holds her still against him. He leans in, lips pressed to her forehead. Before she knows it, he is easing her back down on the bed, making sure she is laying on the left side. Then he lays down next to her, holding her as tightly as he dared.

“Sleep now.”

“Can we skip past near-death clichés? Where my heart restarts, as my life replays?”

When she hears the next line, she realizes he brought that in here for her. The CD player and the CDs she had brought home that day. She wants to ask him how long she had been sleeping for, but the darkness is creeping into her vision again. It doesn’t take long until she gives into it, letting it pull her under.

The second time she wakes, her head feels clear and the pain isn’t so sharp. Daryl is still in the bed with her when she opens her eyes, it helps her to remember. Remember that she isn’t dead, that she’s here, back home safe. She isn’t sure how she could have ever thought she was dead when she was in this much pain.

Her throat aches, too dry and rough from not enough usage, or maybe too much screaming in her sleep, she can’t be sure. Pulling herself up, she winces, the actions sending a light bolt of pain through her. Her shoulder is tight, the muscles hard under the skin. When she moves just so, she swears she can feel the tug of the stitches holding her together. Pandora rolls her shoulders, feeling the tug again. It’s a reassuring feeling, as if the stitches are holding everything together.

“Hey, take it easy.” Daryl’s glancing down at her hand trailing to the hair at the back of her neck. He’s sitting up now, his other hand curling around her elbow to keep her steady.

“Water?” she whispers, hands trailing her throat. A fire burns in the wake of the words.

“Here, first lean back.”

Daryl is moving behind her, doing what she isn’t sure until she leans back like he asks. She meets with a wall of soft pillows. They hold her up gently, hardly putting any pressure on her wound. A small sigh of happiness escapes her, just holding herself up for few moments was a strain.

When she settles, he hands her a glass already full of water. As she’s drinking, she takes the time to look around. The room is still a mess, Daryl’s clothes lying in random places. The second bed had been pushed next to the one she is in, but it doesn't look slept in. It’s neatly made still, edges tucked in tight. It is covered in supplies though, medical tape, bandages, towels, and pill bottles. The CD player sits on the dresser, every CD she had brought was open, scattered on the surface.

When she finishes, she doesn’t let go of the glass, only grips it tighter to steady her hands. Daryl takes it from her though, tugging it gently from her hands and placing it on the night stand beside her bed. Tilting her head to the side, she watches him find the only clear spot.

“Eat.” He pushes a plate of food towards her.

Apples, crackers, and a trail mix. She holds out her hand for him while trying to figure out where the plate had come from.  Staring for a few long seconds, her stomach did an uneasy flip inside her, already protesting the idea of eating. Silently, she pushes it away, shaking her head in a way of answer. Daryl sighed and puts it back, not arguing with her.

His hands find her own, encasing them in his grip. She looks at him, realizing now that she had been staring off at some blank spot behind him. It’s like before where she can’t quite get a handle on her brain. She tries to think about what Denise would tell her to do, but the thought makes her heart tighten painfully and she lets it go. Daryl tugs her hands again, pulling her back to the present moment.

“Ah thought Ah was gonna lose yah.” His voice pitches low, edges raw.

He looks tired, the type of tired that goes bone deep. With her left hand, she reaches for him, tangling her fingers in his hair and tugging him closer. He does as she asks, like always, slipping beside her. He doesn’t put his arm around her though, just leans against her gently. They sit like this, side by side, against her throne of pillows for a few silent moments.

“Scared the shit out me,” he whispered, tangling his fingers with hers.

“How long?” she asks, finally finding her voice.

Daryl leans down towards her, planting a gentle kiss on her temple. “Yah been out three days, Pan.” Lifting his hand, he reached over and touched her cheek. “Yah had an infection, couldn’t get yah to wake up for anything.”

“I didn’t know I was dreaming,” she whispered, tightening her grip on his hand. “I thought I was dead, until I heard you and the music. I was so tired of running, so I waited for them to find me, then it would have been over.” She doesn’t tell him how badly she wanted it to be over for a second. How, after dreaming of Denise dying over and over again, she was ready for it to be over for herself too.

Daryl goes stiff beside her for only a few seconds, then he slides his arm behind her, staying low on her back to avoid her shoulder. He’s careful though, always so careful, but she misses the deep pressure he usually gave her.

“Ahm sorry.”

“No,” Pandora breathed the word, shaking her head. She can’t let him carry that, can’t let him hold all the guilt of what happened. “You kept me safe, like you said. You brought me home.”

“Ah didn’t bring everyone home.”

“I know, Daryl.” Her head finds his shoulder. The movement tugs at the stitches again, but now she welcomes the pain. She’s crying again, tears leaving tracks down her cheeks, dropping on her shirt. “I know.”

There is a hollow place in her chest now and she lets Denise’s name live there. Let's her name fill the hole she keeps for the loved ones she lost. She keeps Lily there too. She tucks away her sister’s sweet smile in the darkness. Her parents are there too, their loving gazes tucked away where she can’t see them, either. Others are there too, Riley, Tabitha all those she lost along the way. No matter how many people she tucks in there, the hole grows to fit them.

Pandora begins to cry harder now, shutting her eyes against the tears, only to see the moment of Denise’s death playing over and over behind her closed lids. The hole in her chest is gaping wide again. She tries to curl herself into it, but the pain her shoulder causes when she tries to pull her knees to her chest makes her gasp for air.

Daryl is talking to her, but she can’t hear it, or doesn’t want to, she isn’t sure. His hands are on her shoulders though, trying to keep her upright. Her body fights against his hold though, slumping forward towards her half-drawn knees.

“Pan, gotta sit up, OK?” His voice is on the edge of tears.

He won’t let them fall, not now, and she has done enough crying for the both of them.

“Take me to--” She chokes through her tears, a sob making her hunch again. The pain is a bright bolt on her head, focusing her. “Take me to her grave, please.” Her voice has a begging quality to it, she hates herself for her inability to stop it.

“Pandora.”

Her head snaps towards him, watching his face swim in her tear-filled vision. He’s trying not to look at her, but she won’t allow it. Her fingers reach for his chin, pulling his eyes up to hers. His eyes reflect the storm inside. He is swimming in rage, guilt and pain. It makes her choke out another sob, but she kisses him, lips ghosting over his.

“Please,” she whispers against his lips. “I need to see it.”

“Eat first.” Leaning away from her, his tone doesn’t leave room for her to counter back. He is already handing her a plate, anyway. Taking the apple, she watches him cut it with the knife at his belt.

Wiping her eyes, she reaches for the first slice. The moment she eats it, her body remembers what it’s like to be hungry. She finishes the rest of the plate and the apple slices Daryl cuts for her. He sighs when she hands the empty plate back to him.

“C’mon then, take this.” Daryl places one pill in her hand, the other hand holding a glass of water. She takes it and almost swallows it dry, but Daryl, the forever rational one, pushes  the water into her hands. Two sips and the pill is down.

Standing, he holds his hands out for her take. “Then yah gotta rest.”

Not answering, she takes his hand, her grip on the right hand is weaker, but he doesn’t miss a beat, lifting her by the elbows. The room pitches and dips in her vision. If she was alone, she would have been on the floor already. But he’s there, like always, her anchor.

‘I should be stronger for him.’ The thought comes to her as they leave the house and head for the graveyard, the idea that she needs to be better for him. Daryl is always what she needs, maybe she should try and be what he needs for a change.

‘I’m going to say goodbye, then go home.’ She thinks that’s it, she just needs to see it, then she can rest like he says. Then tomorrow, everything will be different.

Whatever vision she had of how this would go, vanishes the moment she sees the fresh grave. It stands out stark against the other graves, they are dry, the rich brown of Denise’s grave. Pandora let’s her eyes scan over the neat lines of graves, she tries to count them but her head aches too much. Instead she turns to Denises grave again, tears swimming in her eyes. There is a cross marking it. She assumes her name had been carved into it, but from where they are standing, it is hard to see.

Daryl had been holding her hand, his other arm around her waist to steady her. Daryl moves her between the rows of graves, until the stop in front of the newest. Standing before the grave, whatever composure she had left, vanishes the moment she reads Denise’s name. Sinking to her knees she sobs, the cries pulling their way free from her chest.

Somewhere behind her, she hears the crunching of leaves under boots. The sound moves away from her, followed by low voices. The pain in her chest is worse than the pain in her shoulder now. Denise had been so good, too good for this shit hole of a world.

The guilt was almost enough to crush her. She had insisted that Denise go, encouraged her, even. Knowing what was out there, Pandora knew it wasn’t safe, it was never safe. Pandora knew that more than anyone. Whenever she stepped outside of these walls, someone was hurt. Why did she think this time would be any different?

“I’m sorry,” she whispers through her tears. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

She wants to get up now, wants to go back to her room and think. Think about what’s next. There is a next, there has to be. She’ll find them. No, not them, no. Just Dwight. Killing Dwight is what’s next for her, what is last for her, she realizes. It would be the last thing she ever did. She wants to sit and plan these things, but the tears pour out of her still.

She’s not just crying for Denise anymore, she crying for everyone she’s lost. Her family and the groups along the way. She cries for those who aren’t dead yet because she knows that they will be dead, maybe not tomorrow or the next day, but before their time, they will be gone.

How long it takes for the tears to stop, she isn’t sure, but when they do, she’s empty. There is a shifting beside her, a flash of movement from the corner of her eye. She knows it’s Daryl, even if she can’t see him through her eyes that are red and raw from tears.

“She saved me too,” Pandora mumbles, voice thick. Denise had saved her just as much as Daryl had saved her. “I’m always left behind, I always survive. That’s my curse.”

Daryl is silent for a moment before he answers. “Ain’t no curse, you’re tough as shit.”

“I’m not.” She leans forward, sinking her fingers in the earth that is now housing her friend’s body. “Not without you, not without Denise.”

“That’s bullshit and yah know it.” He’s angry now, she can hear it in his voice. “Ya were strong before us.” Daryl is standing behind her now, his hand on her shoulder.

A laugh escapes her before she can stop it. It’s a sad sound though, causing a few more tears to run down her face. He is so wrong. She wasn’t strong, she was stupid and weak. If she had been strong, the Wolves wouldn’t have taken her and Denise wouldn’t be dead.

“She saved me, Daryl, and I couldn’t even kill him for what he did.”

Wiping at her eyes, she shakes her head, shaking his hand off in the process. She needs to shake the images from her head. She can’t bear another second of watching Denise fall to the ground. That day will be fresh fuel for her nightmares. She would get Dwight, if it was the last thing she ever does, he would pay for all of it. That would set it right again. An eye for an eye. Beside her, Daryl kneels on the ground, fingers curling around her own.

“Ah ain’t letting him live.”

“Good." 

 

 

 

 

Notes:

Well?? What did you think, kind of s filler chapter but still really important in the long run. Leave me a review and some love! It helps keep me going.

Chapter 32: Deadly

Notes:

Hi! I'm back and Ilm still writing I promise, its just taking longer for these chapters to come out due to the editing process.

Deadly

“Again.”

Pandora wipes the blood from under her nose and steadys herself. A droplet of sweat lands in her eye; it stings slightly but it’s only one injury in the catalog she seems to be feeling now. Her right shoulder aches like a bitch. She rolls it slightly, trying to hide her flinching. Her left side aches from a well-placed kick she didn’t dodge in time. The pain in her shoulder makes its way to her ear. She tries not to think about it and stretches it out instead.   

It had only been two days since she finally got out of bed. She hadn’t wasted any time in hunting Rosita down and have her start her training again. Daryl hadn’t been happy, but once Pandora had half-heartedly promised to train lightly, he had agreed to it.

Now, standing at the solar panels in front of Rosita, she was doing the exact opposite of what she promised. She can feel a bruise darkening on her left arm, and one on her right leg, the ache in her shoulder increasing with every breath.

When Rosie doesn’t answer her, she clears the hair from her eyes and stares at the other woman.

“Again!” she snaps, reaching forward for the knife in the grass.

Rosita scoffs. She snatches the knife before Pandora can reach it, shoving it in the waistband of her pants. She moves faster than  Pandora, her body not slowed from pain.

“That’s enough for today,” Rosita replies, two machetes in her left hand. “You’re still healing, remember? That arrow to your shoulder?”

“I’m fine, it doesn’t hurt.”  

Rosita glares at her before stepping forward and poking her lightly in the right shoulder. Pandora hisses between her teeth and steps back, hand going up to cover the area. The pain sends bright lightning bolts down into her chest.

“You’re a shitty fucking liar, Pandora. Go rest.”

Rosita turns away now, her back to Pandora. She looks like she is leaving, but a few seconds pass and she doesn’t move. Finally, she looks over her shoulder, eyes locking with hers.

“Training this hard won’t bring her back, you know. You’re only going to hurt yourself.”

Tears sting in Pandora’s eyes. Angrily, she wipes them away.

“I know that,” Pandora answers through gritted teeth. She doesn’t expand, doesn’t go on to explain what she was really doing. That she needs to make sure she’s strong enough to kill Dwight. Rosita wouldn’t understand, anyway.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” She decides it’s best to leave before she says something.

Pandora heads up to one of the new watchtowers, where she knows no guard has been posted, thinking that she can have a few minutes of silence by herself. There isn't a ladder to lead her up there so instead, she decides to test her climbing skills. Starting with her left arm, she hoists herself up the first piece of wood. Her body groans in protest but it’s nothing she can’t handle. When she reaches up with her right arm, her grip isn’t strong enough and she falls on her back. The air comes rushing out of her in a strangled gasp the second she hits the floor. The pain are little lightning bolts going from her shoulder out into the rest of her body. She closes her eyes for a second, taking a few deep breaths to try and reorient herself.

“What the fuck yah doing, Pandora?” Daryl’s deep and angry drawl sounds from behind her and she can’t help but flinch when she opens her eyes and sees him leaning over into her field of vision, glaring down at her.

“I was trying to get up there.”

“Without a ladder?”

“I don’t need a ladder.”

“Do you have a fucking death wish?” He growls, taking her arms and pulling her up to her feet.

She groans, lifting her left hand to push him away. His eyes are bright with rage. He doesn’t let her go; instead, he wraps his arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him. He’s warm, like always, and she can’t help but relax in the circle of his arms.

“Where have you been?” He growls at her, lowering his voice so that passing couples don’t hear him.

“With Rosita, training,” she whispers, trying to make her voice sound stronger than she feels.

“For this long? Are yah fucking crazy?” His voice is getting louder now, his hand tightening painfully on her arm. “Yah got outta bed two days ago, yah almost fucking died.”

“You don’t think I know that!” She hisses through her teeth, pulling her arm from him.

Turning, she leaves him standing there and heads towards home. She tries to remember to breathe like Denise taught her, making every breath as deep as she can. She thinks about finding another guard tower, one with a ladder, and walking to the top of the wall. But the bottle of painkillers and the shower are calling her name, both things she can do behind the locked door of the bathroom.

Only when she gets home, she is so distracted by the pain that she leaves the bathroom door unlocked. Pandora doesn’t even get water, just takes the little white pill dry while peeling off her clothes.

In the mirror, she stands naked for a moment. The stitches still held her wound tightly shut, the new skin working at closing the hole in her body. The rest of her skin is littered with old scars: a bite mark on her hip and twin white lines along her stomach and inside her tights. There is a brand too, a W carved into her stomach just above her belly button.

“Never again,” she tells her reflection, tears in her eyes. She can’t be the victim again, not like before. She will fight now that she knows how.

The shower calls to her and she turns the water on hot enough to warm the ever-present chill in her bones. Stepping inside, she takes a moment to close her eyes under the water. Rosita’s voice finds her again behind her eyelids.

“Training this hard won’t bring her back, you know. You’re only going to hurt yourself.”

The tears that come mix with the water on her face. Her knees buckle under her and she sinks to the shower floor, curling into a ball. Part of her only wants this, to curl up and cry and cry until she’s empty. But another part of her rages, a caged beast in her head demanding she build her strength again and find Dwight and kill him. To make sure that no one ever puts a hand on anyone she loves again.

She doesn’t hear the bathroom door open, or the shower door for that matter. She only feels the warm towel around her, and then she is lifted out of the shower and carried back into her room. Daryl dresses her, slipping an oversized T-shirt on her before pulling the blankets back and tucking her in bed.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers as he eases himself down next to her.

“Ah know.” Daryl is gentle, hands pulling the blankets over them and tucking her frame into his arms as she cries.

The next few days, she takes it easy, plays nice so Daryl stops trailing her around all day. She has already decided to stop using the pain meds, wanting to save them for someone who might really need them. It hurt like hell the first day without them, and training is a bitch, but she never says a word.

Every free moment she has away from Daryl, she’s planning. There is a black hiking bag in her closet stuffed with the small supplies she slipped away without anyone seeing. Two knifes she promised to return after training, protein bars and some dried fruit she had picked up on her last run to the pantry. There was also a  map taken from Eugenie’s growing pile in Rosita’s dining room. It will be soon, it must be. It’s already been almost two weeks, who knows how long it will take her to find their trail, to following them back to wherever they call home.

Pandora’s scared, as she should be. She’s not Daryl, or Rick, or Carol; she doesn’t have the skills they have. But it has to be her, it just has to be. Because she knows she won’t get out of there alive, she just knows it. If this is the last thing she can do for this group, it’s worth it, especially after everything they have done for her.  

‘Tomorrow,’ she decides as she slips into bed with Daryl for the night. ‘I’ll go tomorrow.’

“Mornin’.” Daryl’s voice wakes her. She curls into him, pressed tightly against his side.

Everything is stiff, she is sure she hasn’t moved all night. ‘This might be the last time I wake up next to him,’ she thinks to herself as she rubs the sleep from her eyes.

“Good morning.” Pressing a small kiss to his cheek, she puts an arm around him, tangling her leg with him.

“Someone’s in a good mood,” Daryl remarks. He rolls to his side, untangling himself from her for a moment. Then he puts his arms around her again, kissing her lips this time.

She melts, sighing into the kiss, her hands pressed against his chest. He’s so damn good to her, and she’s not sure what she did to get this lucky. She wonders how much he will miss her, or if it will take him long to get over her once she’s gone. But she doesn’t want to think about that now, just wants to lay here and soak in everything about him.

“Sleep good?” he asks when she finally breaks apart. She turns her head, hiding in the hollow space of his neck.

“Mhmm.” She hums the word into his skin, delighting in the shiver it evokes from him.

“Ah gotta help Maggie today, she wants to hide some guns, put more bins out.” He says it like he is trying to give himself a reason to get out of bed.

“Why?” she whines, curling tighter into his side. “It’s been so quiet ...” She leaves the rest of the sentence hanging so that he knows what she means.

 

“Ah know, but she’s worried.” He kisses her again, one hand cupping the side of her face, gently. “Hormones and shit,” he whispers against her mouth and she smiles. It feels so normal.

Part of her is almost sad that this might be ending. She decides then that she will make it back to him. To make sure they have more mornings like this one, as many mornings as this world is willing to give them. She wants more of this, she wants all of this. For the first time, there is a future that she can see, and it looks happy. It breaks her heart looking at him now, the smile that only reaches his eyes when they are alone.

“I love you.”

The words tumble out before she can stop them. It’s not a shock, not for her. It feels good to say it, to get it out in the open. It’s such a relief, she feels tears running down her cheeks.

“Pandora...” He breathes her name. Stares at her so intensely, like he is trying to set her on fire with the heat of his gaze. There is a silence then, and she is sure she can see the wheels in his head spinning.

“Ah love you too.”

She leans in and kisses him again, desperate this time. Fire coiling in her belly, she tries to get him as close as she can. He opens his mouth and her tongue slips in, needing more, needing just to taste him. He groans into her mouth, the hand he had slipped behind her tightens on her hip. Shifting so she doesn’t break contact, she presses her hips closer to him, slipping her leg in between his.

This is everything she wants, and when she breaks away from him, she is gasping and laughing with what little air she can get into her lungs.

“Ah hope that isn’t because of my skills, Ah know Ahm a bit rusty.” He chuckles, leaning toward her again, lips brushing her forehead.

“No, no, I just — ” She can’t finish the sentence, can’t put in the words the fullness in her chest right now. It feels like a dream,  coming out of something so dark to this perfect moment.

“Ah know,” he whispers, tucking some hair behind her ear. “Ah don’t wanna go, but…”

He lets the sentence die. Pandora only shakes her head slowly.

“No, go, it’s OK.”

She stays curled up in the bed, watching him get ready to leave. As he does his belt, he catches her looking at his bare chest. His face turns a bright red and she quickly stares at his feet.

“What?”

Pandora grins, shaking her head. “Nothing, come back soon.”

Leaning down towards her, he kisses her again, before grabbing his vest and leaving. She curls up in bed and waits for a few moments until she is sure that he has left.

Only then does she leave the bed. She doesn’t shower, just pulls her hair up into a bun laying on top of her head. She knew it was risky to leave during the day when more people were awake inside and watching her. But they would also be more lax because no had ever dared to try anything during the day, at least not from the inside.

But she would never get out at night, not with Daryl in bed with her. He always seemed to chip away at her resolve to leave. When he was close to her, that was all she wanted. It was best to leave when he was already gone. So she got ready, got her bag together, popped two pills and headed out the back.

The part of the wall right behind their townhouse is easy to climb. It is old and more rough and dented than anywhere else. The other side of the wall is covered in a thick forest, dense trees blocking anything out. The guard tower near them is unfinished; no one posted there to keep watch. Perfect for her to slip out from there.

She traces a path to lead her up and over the wall.

‘I will come back,’ she promises herself, knowing that this is where she belongs.

When she gets to the top, she looks back down at  Alexandria. No one looked up at her in return. People around her are going about their morning. She smiles before turning to look out over the other side of the wall. With a sharp breath, she tumbles off the top of the wall, tucking her knees into her chest. The landing is a bit bumpy but she rolls tightly and lands without any pain.

The bushes around her rustle a little. She holds her breath and crouches down. Then, taking a deep breath, she bolts from her spot, running away from the wall. She tries to make sure she isn’t seen, hugging close to the shadows, moving between the houses. She pauses between them to ensure no one is looking. She thought she was doing well.

“Pandora??”

She swears someone screams her name, but she puts her head down and weaves in and out of the trees. It doesn’t take long for all the sounds around her to fall away. Only then does she stop and take a moment to breathe, when she is sure she had gone far enough. Once she catches her breath, she finds herself grinning so wide her face hurts.

“You did it,” she tells herself, allowing herself a moment to sit in her pride. The pills had made everything feel unreal, like throwing a blanket over her emotions. They stop her from tumbling into a panic at the idea of being outside the walls alone.

‘It’s a good thing,’ she reminds herself. ‘They are a good thing.’ Still grinning, she turns to continue her way down.

This was the first time he had come outside since he got to Maggie’s, spending more time planning than anything else. The moment he steps outside to light a smoke he swears he hears her name in the wind. At first, he thinks it's because of this morning.  His head is full of her and he doesn't think much about it.

At one of the guard towers near their place, there is a commotion and he hears her name again. He’s right, someone just called her name. So, smoke in his hands, he partially runs for the guard tower.

“What did you say?” Daryl growls to the person on guard.

“I-I-I-I thought I saw Pandora for a second, going that way — ”

he doesn’t know the person and can’t  quite remember their name — “She stopped for a second then kept going.”

Daryl turns back, running for his bike now. When he gets it, he pulls it up to the gate, demanding someone open it for him. No one comes, so he jumps off the bike and does it himself. He doesn't stop to check the house first to see if the guard is wrong, he doesn’t need to. He knows it's true, it has the stink of Pandora all over it. Rushing out the first moment she’s alone. She was probably planning it the whole time.

The bike roars to life under him. In the second it takes for the kickstand to come up, he's tearing down the street. He knows where she's going. The same place he's been thinking about going to since they got back.

She’s going back to find Dwight.

Notes:

Well???? Leave me some comments I always love to hear them.

Chapter 33: Let's meet the man

Notes:

First of all, I am so sorry! I know I have been gone literally forever. I had some issues finding someone to edit for me. The good news is my lovely cousin is back to beta reading for me, so you can expect some regular updates from now on.
Second thing, is holy crap I am happy to be back! I stopped posting but I actually never stopped writing, I'm up to chapter 40 and its only getting better.
If you are still around I thank you! Anyway read on friends read on!

Chapter 33

Pandora was staring up at the sky, standing right where Denise died. She remembers the spot, can even still see the blood on the ground. Her shoulder ached as if to remind her to be present, a painful reminder of what happened here. She could get lost right here, slip away in the memory and that would be the end,before she had even done what she came to do. From behind her she hears stones crunching under feet. Her movement is slow, but the gun is in her hand when she turns to face Daryl.

“Pandora.” He breathes her name and the wind carries it to her.

“Oh.” He found her , of course he had found her. Why did she think she could slip away without his notice? She hoped she would have more time, but the universe rarely gave her what she wanted.

He comes towards her, hands out and open in surrender and for a second she wonders why. Then, she glances down at the gun still in her hands pointed at him. She lowers it, slipping it back into her belt.  He’s furious, she can see it. His eyes are dark, peering at her from under his sweat soaked hair.  

“What are ya doin’ out here?”

“You know what I’m doing Daryl.”

The pills made everything seem slow, muted somehow.  Her chest just feels like a void, like all her emotions have been sucked away into some black hole. Everything she feels gets sucked away into the emptiness.

“Ah can’t let you go.”

“I have to”

He reaches for her, but she side steps him so his fingers only graze her arm. Shutting her eyes she tries to picture which way Dwight had run. She had seen him run, somewhere past the pain she felt she must remember. Turning, she opens her eyes again to glance behind her to where they had run. Behind her through the trees, she would find the trail.

“Yah gotta be kidding me this is fucken stupid. Yah know that right?”

He’s shouting now, hands balled into fist at his sides. Her eyes wander over to him, drinking in the sight, even when angry he is something. She wonders what he is madder about: the fact that she is out here alone, or she is out here first.

“Are you mad I came out here first?” She can’t help but ask,her curiosity clawing at her for an answer.

“Fuck!” That’s the only answer she gets from him. He spins around, walks back to the tree line and stays there for a few moments before coming back to her.

“Yah ain’t gonna let me take you back first?”

Pandora only shakes her head, stepping into him. He doesn’t move, doesn’t soften the hard edges of his body, only stares at her.

“So, come with me.” She whispers, her hand presses against his chest, heading titling up to close the gap between them. The kiss is sweet a light feather touch on his lips ,  it makes him relax. “Or go home Daryl.”

“Don’t move.” Daryl whispers into her ear.

She moves a fraction turning only her head to the side, just to watch him go. He takes the bike, laying it down on the ground and covering it with fallen branches. Watching him made her think of the burnt forest, of leaving the bike and being taken captive. She waits for the panic, but it never comes. Instead, there is only calm .

She can’t lie that having him here puts her at ease. It calms the deep nerves the drugs only smothered. When he comes back, he presses the ghost of a kiss on her lips before turning taking her hand in his. He doesn’t seem angry anymore, she’s glad of it. He would never stay angry with her for long, it wasnt in him.

They walk in silence until the forest turns to open fields. Daryl lets her slip ahead of him, whispering for her to track. Pandora stops for second thinking before she does as she is told. leaning down to get the direction Dwight had his men had fled. Footprints stood out in the grass in front of her, the fear making Dwight’s men forget to cover their tracks. Her tracking skills are not bad,  she is able to lead them all the way across the clearing until the landscape changes and becomes thick forest.

At the tree line she gets stuck as everything looks the same. The ground is littered in prints, some going back and others forward. Small twigs cover the ground broken from being under footsteps, but she can’t make sense of what direction any footprints went in. A bright blaze of frustration flares, only to be choked out by the drugs.

“Fuck!” She whispers the curse, fingers parting the long grass.

“Lemme see.” He hovers over her, trying to peer over her shoulder. As she moves, he takes her place. Pandora stand looming over him slightly, her eyes track the movement of his fingers as he looks. It takes Daryl seconds to find the right path, as if neon arrows pointed him in the right direction.

“This way. Com’on.”  Standing he is reaching for her, taking her hand locking their fingers. Daryl is always so damn warm, Pandora grips his hand using it to chase away the chill she feels.

The woods around them are dense, tall trees packed closely together. It feels suffocating, it’s becomes easy to forget what time of day it is with the sunlight mostly blocked by branches. They take a few steps togethers, hands intertwined, the Daryl begins to slow. Pandora knows him well enough to see some tension in his features, a tightness around his eyes Around them is silent though, she doesn’t feel the same nerves he does.

“Take yah gun out.”

“But I don’t…” Pandora’s fingers struggle to pull the gun from the holster on her belt, fingers feeling fat and clumsy. She doesn't even have the gun out all the way when she hears the arrow Daryl has already loosed.

She hears it then, the crack of a twig, a rustle in the bush. Gun held loss in her hands, her head snaps up to see Rosita stepping from behind the tree with Daryl’s arrow in her hand.

“What the hell, asshole.” Rosita rages, stalking towards him. She doesn’t look at Pandora just centers her rage on Daryl.

“You shouldn’t have come. Yah know ah got her.”

Michonne steps out from behind Rosita, face twisting in anger.

“You shouldn’t have left.” She glares at Pandora now who slips the gun back in her belt trying to avoid the other woman’s eye.

“No one was supposed to see me.” It’s a whisper, like a child caught in an adult conversation.

“Naw she has the right to be here, same as me. When we split off from Sasha and Abraham Dwight was out there. He is in that burnt out with them girls, put a gun to our head, tied us up. I even tried to help him.”

“So, you think it’s your fault?” Glenn asks stepping up towards them. He must have hung behind, Pandora hadn’t seen him

“No it’s mine.”

Daryl glares at her, but doesn’t respond, only turns to Glenn again. “Ahm gonna go do what Ah should’ve done before.”

“What, for her?” Glenn turns to Pandora then, eyes dark. “Denise is gone . You’re doing this for you.”

Daryl stops looking from her to Glenn. She’s angry then as she doesn’t understand how they think she can just go home. This will help her, this is what she needs, to come out here and be the one to end it. Maybe then she will stop seeing Denise’s final moments play behind her eyelids, maybe instead they will be replaced with Dwight dying.

“I don’t give a shit. So what if it’s for me?” She snarls the words at them pushing past Daryl to walk again.

“Daryl!” Its Glenn calling his name and she isn’t sure why. Until she feels Daryl’s fingers around her wrist stopping her. He holds her still, and when she glances at his face she can see the wheels turning in his head.

“We all need to go back and figure this out from home.” Glenn stands in front of Daryl now.

She’s locked in place by his fingers, anger bubbling inside her. They can’t make this choice for her, they can’t make her come home. Shifting her gaze, her eyes slid from Rosita to Michonne and back to Glenn. Michonne’s face is set in stone, worry lines etched deep. Rosita is watching her, almost unblinking. They would force her to go back if Daryl allowed it, they would bring her home kicking and screaming.

“Daryl let go,” She snarls the words at him as she tries to pull her wrist from his grasp. Daryl looks down at her, she can see something shifting on his face. Turning to Glenn, her anger turns to panic. Her heartbeats wild in her chest waiting for them to spring on her, drag her home.  

“Glenn, you have to go please. They need you at home, all of you.” Pandora pledes.

Glenn sighs, turning to her to shake his head, “Pandora, it’s gonna go wrong out here.”

“So go.” She tries to control her voice, but it comes out with a slight tremor. “But I can’t.”

Michonne steps in front of her now, her hand resting lightly on Pandora’s shoulder, Pandora tries to hide her flinch. “We’ll square it. I will. I promise you. Just come back, both of you.”

Pandora looks from Daryl to Glenn and Michonne.  When she glances back to Daryl they hold each other's eyes for a second. She shakes her head and he only nods. She isn’t sure what makes him change his mind, but she knows he has.

Turning back to Glenn, “We can’t.”

They turn away then, Pandora following behind Daryl. With every step away from the group it’s better. They will go home, and if everything works out, she will come back with Daryl.

“Daryl! Pandora!”

Pandora turns her head, casting Glenn a look over her shoulder. “We can’t”

Ahead of her Daryl keeps moving, she must jog to catch up, but she hears Rosita behind her telling them she can’t either. In a few seconds, Rosita is stepping up next to her and they are all walking into the woods. She glances behind her only once to see Michonne and Glenn heading back the way they had come.

They walked in silence for a while until Rosita glanced over at her.

“You have balls, that’s for sure.” Rosita couldn’t hide the small tug in the corner of her lip. “You were ready to go on your own.”

“I was out on my own, got all the way there alone.” Pandora said, fingers drumming over the knife at her belt.

“Only beat me to it because Ah was takin care of yah.” Daryl growled, throwing a glare back in her direction.

Pandora flinched at that, just another reminder of how she was holding him back. She slows without noticing they keep going ahead of her. She almost doesn’t notice until Daryl is beside her again, slipping into her personal space.

His hands find her face, tilting her head up so she is forced to look at him. “Pandora Ah didn’t mean that.”

Pandora shook her head, “It’s ok. It’s true, I know.”

“Ah take care of you, because Ah love you.” He whispers the last part, kissing her with a soft sweetness someone like him soundly have.

Pandora can’t help but melt into him, let her body press closer. They take a second there the two of them enjoying a bit of stolen time, them he is stepping out of her arms.  They are walking again then, moving through the woods in silence.

Daryl stops every so often, peers down at the ground, runs his hands against the rough bark of the trees. Pandora tries to see what he is seeing, but their tracks are too faint here and she isn’t as good as he is. Instead, he holds his hand out and she walks alongside him as he tracks. Pandora is not sure how much time has passed, but she lets her mind wander trusting Daryl to lead her . She snaps back to reality when she walks into Daryl’s back, stumbling back a few steps before catching herself on a branch.

“Sorry, Pan.” Daryl reaches for her elbow, helping her stand up straight. “Somethin’ ain’t right.”

Letting go of her arm he crouches down to the ground, running his fingers through the grass.

“They doubled back this way.” He pauses and throws a quick glance over to Rosita who flexes  her fingers before reaching for her gun. Daryl stands, pulling his off his backpack and turning to glance at Pandora.  

“Stay behind me.” Daryl reaches out, tipping the gun up so that it’s pointing straight ahead.

She does as she is told , this time she feels the dread coiling into her stomach. Unable to help herself, she shakes despite still holding the gun. Together they all inch forward. In front of them, Daryl turns around, finger to his lips to signal them to be silent. Just like earlier, she takes half a second longer to hear what he hears. Somewhere ahead of them there is the sound of voices and the crackling of a fire.

Rosita and Daryl hold their guns up. Peering around them she glimpses Glenn and Michonne, hands bound and mouths gagged. Her heart sinks, this is her fault. Without a sound , she slips from Daryl’s side with the intent on getting behind them. They see them through the trees shaking their heads frantically . There is a movement behind her and she understands a second too late.

Fingers wrap themselves in her hair using it to pull her backwards. Pandora opens her mouth, sucking in air for a scream, but her captor is faster. A meaty hand shoots out to cover her mouth, cutting off the sound. Her brain skips over itself, unable to form a thought. Her body kicks in then, kicking her legs out and trying to make noise.

The man holding her grunted, pressing his hand harder over her mouth. Pitching sideways, she tries to throw him off balance. Instead, she feels the white-hot pain of a blade biting into the flesh of her hip. She screams into the hand, the man behind her cursing.

Daryl’s head snaps back towards her then, her eyes are wild jumping left and right as she thrashes. From behind a tree, Dwight appears with a gun in his raised hands. She screams again, twisting despite the pain. She tries to warn Daryl, but he’s so focused on her, he doesn’t see Dwight.

“Hi Daryl.” He sneers, pulling the trigger and firing.

When the bullet rips through Daryl’s shoulder, something snaps in her head. Maybe it’s the Xanax, maybe it's just rage. She opens her mouth and bites down as hard as she can until she can taste coppery blood. The man holding her screams, dropping his hand from her mouth. She keeps his skin between her teeth though, feeling the flesh tear away. Sucking in air and reaching for her boot, she pulls out the extra knife. In a flash, the skin of his neck is splits, painting his shirt in blood.

There is only one of her though and too many of them. When the body drops, two more step in to take its place. She grins at them, flashing her blood covered teeth before spitting out the dead man’s flesh on the ground in front of them. Go down fighting her brain screams, so she does. She only has the knife, but they are stunned into stillness watching her. Taking advantage she lunges the balding man doesn't see her coming. Wrapping her legs around his waist, she drives the tip of her blade into his eye while he tries to fling her off. Knife in hand he thrashes against her, the blade cutting deep into her arm.

Hissing in pain, she screams at him, arms fly up to hammer the knife into his brain. That is the last person she gets because behind her there is screaming, then fireworks erupt in her skull, and then nothing.

She wakes up in a panic, the images of the men she murdered fresh in her mind. Thrashing, she gasps struggling to fill her lungs.  Her vision is blurred , world coming in and out of focus so she shuts her eyes again. Sobbing, she tries to lift her arm, but they both move together. Twisting her wrists, she feels the bindings. It makes her sob again, harder this time.  

“Shut the fuck up.”

The tip of a boot connects with her arm, finding the same spot the blade did. Biting back a scream, she doubles over to curl into herself. This feels just like before, like waking up in the burnt forest. The thought makes her cry again. She tries to rub her wrists together to loosen the binding, but the rope doesn't loosen only rubs her skin raw.

“Pandora.” She is sure she hears Daryl’s voice whispering to her, but it can’t be, can it? Her body refuses the command to open so her eyes stay locked shut.  “Pan you gotta stay quiet, please.”

His voice is weak when he speaks again, in the darkness she sees the bullet hitting him.  She hears Daryl’s grunt as he goes down, feels that same cold rage as if it were fresh. The image shakes her, but she tries to cling to his voice.

“Daryl.” It’s a whispered prayer, she is not sure he can even hear her. She tries to move towards him,  but she can’t open her eyes, and her hands are bound . The tightness around her wrists reminds her she is a prisoner. She tries to still herself and listen. His breath is to her right, slow and shallow. She shifts just slightly enough so she feels the heat of his skin against hers. It helps, not much, but it’s something.

“Hush now.”

She can’t stop the tears, but she does as she’s told and doesn’t make another sound.  She slips in and out of consciousness, coming up every now and then to catch a bit of the conversation.

“This is the last road.”

“He’s on his way here then?”

“Ya, make sure they are ready.”

Then she’s gone again, back into the cold darkness.

When she gets up again it’s because she is being moved. Rough hands in her clothes drag her up and out of the van. The movement shakes her awake and sharpens whatever focus she can muster.

“Come on, you got people to meet.” It’s Dwight’s voice again from somewhere beside her, he must be holding her because when she shakes when he speaks. There is the white-hot pain again as someone grabs her shoulder, fingers digging into the hole the arrow left. She begins to scream before biting down on the inside of her cheek to stop it. Her mouth fills with blood again, but this time it’s her own.

When her eyes open, she glances behind her where men are pulling everyone else from the back of a van. Pandora catches Daryl’s eyes, his gaze locks with hers. Dwight growls something else to someone she can’t see, but he is still dragging her along. It’s only seconds before he is dumping her on the ground, causing her knees to collide with the ground.

The pain rockets through her again, and she can’t think past it. Only slumps down forward, sobbing again.

“Stay on your knees Princess, from what I hear this show is for you too.”

Pandora can’t place the voice before she blacks out again. Her surroundings are different when she comes to. She has gone from the darkness to bright lights. Groaning, she tries to cover her eyes, bound wrists in her face now. Slumping forward her frame shakes from pair, and panic. There is enough sense left in her to get her head to move to the side to look at the other bodies around her. She is between Abraham and Michonne with Daryl on Michonne’s other side. She tries to catch his eye, but his head is down, blood covering his arm.

“ Alright ,” The voice is the same man as before. “We got a full boat. Let’s meet the man.

Pandora can hear the shallow breathing of Daryl near her, but everything else seems too quiet. She hears a knock on the door of the RV, something heavy settles into the pit of her stomach. She can’t lift her head, but wouldn’t want to anyway, so it doesn’t matter. If she looks, it’s real so if she doesn’t, maybe she can pretend this is nothing but a terrible nightmare.

“Pissing your pants yet?” The voice she hears has a laughing under tone it, it makes her feel sick. His boots crunch on the gravel around them and still she refuses to look. She is intent on shrinking herself as much as she can.

“Boy, do I have a feeling we’re getting close.” He’s walking now and in the eerie silence she can almost track his path by sound alone.

The sound of his boot crunching on the gravel is right in front of her now, his voice raining down on her from where he stands. “Yeh. It’s gonna be pee-pee pants city real soon. Which one of you pricks is the leader?”

Pandora tries not to move, tries not to be seen by this man. Her eyes stay fixed on the ground, hair falling out and around her face. The pain makes her shake, she can still feel the blood, slow, steady drops from her arm and side. How much blood had she already lost, how much before she blacks out again without coming back this time?

“It’s him. He’s the guy.” Pandora can’t see, but knows they are talking about Rick. The boots move away from her, she watches them cross out of her vision. She breathes a tiny sigh of relief.

“Hi. You’re Rick, right? I’m Negan, and I do not appreciate you killing my men”  

She flinches and curls more into herself, forehead touching the dirt under her as a boot kicks her from behind. The pain makes her straighten up. When nothing happens, she understands what they wanted of her.

‘Stay up.’ She tries to tell herself. He would notice her bent over on the ground, maybe if she stayed like everyone else, she would pass under his notice. Shaking, she tries to sit up higher with everyone else. Abraham moves his fingers just slightly beside her, she wants to reach back for him, but her arms refuse to obey her commands.

“Also when I sent my people to kill your people for killing my people, you killed more of my people. Not cool, not fucking cool.”

In her head, she sees the men she has killed. There has been three killed by her own hand. There is no regret when she pictures their faces, she feels nothing. Not nothing, it brings a chilling rage, making her hungry for more blood.

“Even as we were rounding you all up for this little party, one of your people killed another two of my people. That little doll cut a throat open and shoved a knife in another one’s brain. Not fucking cool.”

Negan must love the sound of his own voice because he keeps talking. Pandora is sure now he is staring at her. She feels it, the weight of his stare on her head. She isn’t sure what possesses her to do it, but she lifts her head and for a second, the man in red scarf is silent, watching her. The scene dips and darkens in her vision though and she breaks eye contact because she can’t hold her head up any longer.

“You have no idea how not fucking cool that shit is. I think you’ll be up to speed shortly though.” The crunching is back and he’s moving again. When he stops, her field of vision fulls with his boots. She feels cold metal against her skin, biting into her flesh and tilting her head up. When her head is raised, Negan removes the object from her face. With her eyes locked to his, she sees the bat wrapped in barbed wire on his shoulder. He stares at her and his eyes are bright with just the hint of madness.

“You are gonna regret crossing me in a few minutes. Yes, you are.”

Pandora takes a deep breath as panic curls in her chest. She tries to put her head down again, but moves too slow. The damn bat is under her chin again, forcing her to look at Negan.

“Head up Princess,” He purrs at her and she stares at him, trying to make her face blank. After a few seconds he turns away from her.

“ You see, Rick , no matter what you do, you don’t mess with the new world order. The new world order is this, and it’s really simple. So even if you’re stupid, which you may well be, you can understand it.”

Negan steps back now, the bat over his shoulder again. “You ready. Here goes. Pay attention.” The bat moves again, so fast that it makes her head spin and her vision goes dark for a second, but she still hears Negan. “Give me your shit, or I will kill you.”

Seconds pass in silence before Negan speaks again, “Today was career day. We invested a lot, so you would know who I am and what I can do. You work for me now. You have shit, you give it to me .”

Darkness creeps into her vision it chases away the sound of Negan, even the pain is gone for a few blissful moments. She floats in the nothingness and it’s so sweet. She is then jerked back again by a pulling on the back of her shirt. The person behind her hauls her up, sitting her upright again. She must have slumped forward as her forehead covered in dirt.

“And…you…are….it….”  Negan is walking back and forth in front of them now. Pandora struggles to understand the purpose. “Anybody moves, anybody says anything, we cut the boy’s other eye out and feed it to his father, and then we’ll start. You can breathe, you can blink, you can cry. Hell you’re all gonna be doing all of that.”

She had missed something again, but it doesn’t take her long to understand what’s happening next. The second the bat comes down on Abraham’s head she screams and can’t bring herself to stop the sound. It drowns everything else out. She is sure Negan is still speaking, but she can’t hear it.

Something splashes against the side of her face, it’s hot and wet. For a second, all she hears is the sound of the bat breaking against Abraham’s skull.

‘It’s blood,’ she thinks to herself. ‘It’s Abraham’s blood.’

That stops the screaming, but only so she can double over and empty the contents of her stomach onto the floor in front of her. The movement caused whatever dried blood had covered the wound in her side to open, fresh blood soaking her shirt again. It makes her feel light-headed.

Negan continued to bash in what was left of Abraham until his head was nothing but bone, blood and brain. She tries not to look, not wanting this to be her last memory of him. It was like a car crash though, she can't pull her eyes away. When Negan swings the bat down for the final time, he steps back laughing.

“Oh my goodness! Look at this.” Negan flicks the bat again blood flies in both directions. Something hits her hair and she lets out another scream, voice already raw.

“For fucks sakes, someone shut the princess up.”

It’s her Negan is talking about, but she can’t seem to make it stop can’t shut her mouth against the sound. From behind her, fingers tangle in her hair again to wrench her head until she is looking at the sky. With her neck this far up it’s hard to breathe and without enough air, her scream is choked off.

“Wait a fucking minute.” The hand from her hair is gone , replaced now by fingers gripping her chin. Negan kneels in front of her his face only inches from hers. She sobs, trying to pull her face from his grasp. The grin he gives her splits his face, it makes her blood run cold.

“Well fuck me sideways. I know you Princess.” Negan breathes the sentence, fingers tightening on her jaw when she tries to pull away. He jerks her head to the side slightly , thumb rubbing the edge of her chin. “Pandora Knight, Olympic gold medal winner. Didn’t recognize you covered in blood there Princess.”

“Get your fucking hands off her.”

She hears him before she sees him, Daryl comes from the corner of her eye, swinging a fist at Negan’s face. It connects and Negan drops her chin, stumbling backwards. In seconds, men come from somewhere behind her to pin Daryl to the ground in front of her.

“No, no, no.” Pandora screams again, falling forward toward him. Reaching her hands out for him, she doesn’t get far before someone grabs the back of her shirt to haul her away.  Daryl’s face is turned towards her, pressed into the dirt by the men holding him down. “Please.” She doesn’t know what she is begging for. For Negan to let Daryl up, for them not to hurt him, for whatever might happen next not to happen.

“Oh my! That is a no-no. The whole thing. Not one bit of that shit flies here.”

“No!” She screams again, struggling against being held. She tries to reach him to throw her body over his, do something.

Dwight appears in front of her, crossbow pointed down, “Do you want me to do it? Right here?”

Negan kneels back down, eyes fixed on Daryl on the ground. Pandora is sobbing now, pulling against the hold on her shirt. Brain skipping over itself, she tries to think of something, anything to do. It’s the way that Daryl stares at her that makes her stop struggling, it’s him mouthing for her to stop that makes her go still.

“No, no you don’t kill that, not until you try a little.” Negan sneers kneeling in the dirt he flicks some of Daryls hair from his eyes before standing up again.  

“Should I shut her up then?”

The crossbow swings in her direction and Dwight glares at her. Cold rage creeps up her spine, all sense of self-preservation vanished. They should have left him to die in those woods. That would have been better than he deserved.

“Better make sure I stay down this time.” Her voice is void of all emotion, her eyes nothing but cold fury.

“Woho Listen to her,” Negan stands up now, laughing as he leans back on his heels. “Put that fucking thing away Dwight I like her.”

“Anyway, that’s not how it works. I already told you people first ones free then what’d I say? I said I would shut that shit down! No exceptions. Now, I don’t know what kind of lying assholes you’ve been dealing with, but I’m a man of my word. First impressions are important, I need you to know me. So back at it. No expectations.”

He swings the bat in front of her again, just an inch away from her face. Then, the bat is nothing but a blur until it comes crashing down into Glenn’s head. Somewhere to her left she hears Maggie screaming, the sound burns itself into her brain. Pandora can't look, can't bring herself to lift her head. Daryl had been trying to protect her. All of this was her fault. If she wasn’t so fucked up, she would have been fine. That realization makes her sob again, a deep sound creeping up from her gut.

The world around her dips and darkens on the edges, but the sounds of him smashing in Glenn’s head follow her into the darkness.

When she comes to again it’s warm outside. The sun is shining down into her eyes, a patch work of bright light through the treetops. The world is awake now, the once silence filled with the sound of birds, and other creatures in the trees.  She has curled into herself at some moment her head resting on her folded legs.

“Load them up, I want the Princess too.”

There’s hands on her then, grabbing her arms. With her wrists still bound, she couldn’t fight back at first. Terror fogs her brain and mixes with adrenaline it makes her stronger than she should be. She kicks and bucks her legs, catching them in the leg a few times. The man to her right elbows her, landing right where the knife had. Pain shoots through her, blood pouring anew from the wound. It stops her struggle long enough for them to shove her in the back of the van they brought her in. Seconds later, Daryl is loaded up with her and the doors snap shut.

In the darkness, she sobs, twisting her wrists to get them unbound.

“Pandora, Pandora Let me help you.”

She hears his voice, but can’t see him. She feels him though, feels his fingers working at the knot. When it falls loose she sobs with relief, falling forwards into his arms. He holds her firm with his good arm, there is a slight tremble in his frame. That frightens her more than anything. He holds her as tight as he can with his uninjured arm as she sobs, unable to stop.

“Pan listen.” Daryl holds her face between his hands to get her to focus. She can't though. Everything hurts and here in the darkness all she can see is the ruined mess of Abraham and Glenn.

“Pandora?” He tries again to get her attention, but outside someone bangs on the side of the van.

The sound sends her flying into the corner, huddled down as small as she can be.  Panic rages. She is sure they will open the door again to pull her out, kicking and screaming back into the line up. So, she curls up as small as she can, hand over her mouth to stop the sounds of her sobs. In the darkness she hears Daryl shifting, movements slower now.

Under her, the van roars to life. Ignoring the pain, she shoves past Daryl who has positioned himself in front of her and goes flying for the door. She isn’t sure what she will do, just know she has to try. Her open palms slammed on the doors not finding any handles. She screams, shoving her body against the doors. Nothing happens. Nothing opens, not even a sliver.

“Pandora,” he’s behind her now, fingers pulling her backwards. He tugs her into the van, pushing her back into the corner.

She doesn't realize she's crying again until Daryl is wiping her face. Blinking, she looks at him as his face twists in pain. Pandora reaches for him, pulling him closer to her. Her body protests, pain shooting up into her head, but she ignores it.

“Ahm sorry.” The end of the sentence is bitten off, word cut short by the harsh shutting of his jaw. off. He's trying to control himself for her, trying to make it seem like he's in control. His arms are around her now, but it's not the same, she doesn't feel safe anymore.

Pandora just shakes her head, unable to form words. The van keeps moving, creeping forward at a slow pace. Her head is filled with thought of being a captive again. She can't bare to close her eyes, frightened at what she might see.  

 

Notes:

Well? What did you think? This chapter was my baby! It is laying the foundation for a whole new series of events to take place. Let me know what you think! I love comments and kudos!

Chapter 34: Captive

Notes:

Hello! Here I am again. I'm with a regular beta reader atm, so this chapter has only been looked at my myself. Which basically means please be nice lol. I have to stay I struggled with this chapter, so let me know what you think!

 

Captive

She never shuts her eyes, only sits stiff-backed, shoved in the corner of the van. After a few failed attempts Daryl had stopped trying to speak to her, instead he leans against her legs. They pass the time in silence and after a while his breathing deepens, Pandora reaches out and lets her hand sit on his chest to feel the filling and emptying of his lungs. When the van stops he jolts awake, the movement shocks her back into the present moment.

Shifting his frame, he uses his body to hide her. She wants to cry at that. Even now, Daryl is still putting her first. Behind him, Pandora curls into herself as if the darkness could aid in hiding her. Maybe she can make herself small enough and vanish. It’s no use. Part of her knows that the moment they come for her she will fight, but right now she wants to hide.

“Yah do whatever they say ok? Ya do whatever you gotta to stay alive.” Daryl is panicking now, it’s written all over his face. He turns again to face her, trying to read her face in the darkness. He shakes her, hands on her upper arms, “Do ya hear me? You stay alive, yah wait for me.”

In the dim light she can make out the look on his face, it’s panicked, his eyes wide and searching her own. Panic flares again, the beast threatening to over take what little mental capacity she has left. There is something she should say to him, she should promise him she will try, but she can’t. What would happen the moment the doors opened, she didn’t know, but she knew it wouldn’t include him. They wouldn’t keep them together.

“I love you.” Her lips ghost over his, just the lightest touch. Her voice shakes, laced with tears. His words ring in her head, live, he wants her to live. She wasn’t sure she had it in her anymore to be a captive again. She doesn’t say it though, doesn’t tell him that somewhere in her head she is already planning how she will end her life.  When she tries to kiss him one more time, but the doors swing open.

Light flood the small space, two men outlined by the light behind them.  

“Stop standing around and get them the fuck out of there.” Negan’s voice cuts through everything else, sounding so clear to her. Something in her wants to look for him, needs to see his face to burn it in her mind. If she lives long enough, she will kill him. For a second that thought stops everything, making her numb, she’ll kill him and Dwight. For everything he has done, Negan would pay with everything. She will burn this place to the ground if she has to. 

There is a rustle of fabric the sound of shifting movements, head snapping up she sees then men moving towards them. They come for Daryl first like she knew they would, she watches them drag him from her side. He fights them, still refusing to go easy. They will come for her next and in those seconds she's wild again. Her brain shuts down and her body refuses to go down without a fight. Sometimes she thinks her mind and her body are two different people. When her mind is ready to give up, her body seems to rebel.

A man steps inside the van now and reaches for her, meaty hand clamping around her upper arm, she screams, sound filling the small space. Her foot flies up to catch him in the chest, or she tries to, but the world around her shifts in her vision. He’s fast, a free hand on her ankle to pull her off balance. Her other leg bends, lowering her to ground as she tries to jerk her leg away. She’s weak, and she knows it, she's lost too much blood and hasn’t eaten in too long. The man jerks her leg, sending her flying down to the floor. The metal floor of the van crashes against the back of her skull.

Fireworks explode in her brain and the last thing she hears is Negan shouting.

Pandora dreams about Abraham in the darkness. In her dreams, they sit on the guard tower in the middle of the night. He is smoking a cigar, she is smoking a cigarette from the pack he found for her. He’s laughing at something she said, she can’t quite remember what it was. The night is clear and cool, and around them everything is silent.

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” He asks her, puffing the cigar.

There is a time he asked this before, she doesn’t remember it happening here, but she laughs and rolls her shoulders, “Sleep is for the mentally stable.”

There is a sound somewhere in the woods, a rustling of leaves. a whistle cuts through the air, something pierces her skin. A glance down relieves blood is seeping from the arrow, she’s staring at the sharp point sticking out of her body. “Oh”

“You alright kid?”

Turning, she glances at Abraham, but it’s not him anymore, not really. Instead, she is staring at the ruined mess of his head. When she opens her mouth to scream, no sound comes out, and around her everything is different again, Abraham’s gone. She is back in the line up, she can hear them, her group. Rosita and Sacha’s sobs cut through the night air, but she’s alone and kneeling in the dirt next to what used to be Abraham.

Negan’s laugh cuts through the sounds and he’s there in front of her twirling that god forsaken bat. He laughs and laughs until the scene changes again.

She wakes a few times comes in and out of sleep, hears voices, whispered directions, shouted curses, her own screaming. Every time she goes under again her dreams continue in the same pattern, no matter how they start they always end with Negan swinging his bat.

Pandora isn’t sure how many times she comes up from darkness only to go back under she only knows this time when she opens her eyes it's different. Her vision is sharper than before, she doesn’t sense the murkiness of drugs in her veins. The room is unfamiliar and for a second she wonders if they had to put her in a different room in medical, her old room might be being used for someone.  Her head pounds still, pressure behind her eyelids making the room come in and out of focus. She can’t remember how many times she was hit in the head since this whole thing started, but she is sure it has been a lot. They will fix her up though, at home she will be fine.

‘This isn’t home.’ A voice in her head whispers it and blinking again and again she realizes its right, she isn’t home. Her eyes close for a second and she sits in the darkness. Images of being shoved into and pulled out of the van flashes behind her eyes. Then it’s everyone she loves on the ground their head in a red ruin. A tremor runs through her and she tries to run her hands over her face, but nothing happens. Pandora gives her other arm a hard jerk, nothing happens.  Eyes wide and fever bright she glances down only to see the blank bands across her wrists and ankles.

Panic flares for a second when she realizes she’s tied down to bed. Shutting her eyes her breathing comes in quick suffocating gasps. The panic is waves rolling over her crashing against each other, she can’t breathe now her chest tightens painfully heart threatening to burst through her rib cage. In her head, she thinks of Denise thinks of the lessons on how to stop a panic attack. Focus, she tries to focus, it’s harder with her eyes closed so she opens them.

‘What do you see? What do you feel?’ The voice in her head sounds strangely like Denise, and Pandora pictures the plastic grey elephant toy she used to teach her this. So, with her eyes open now she tries to focus, to map the surrounding room. It doesn’t help, the walls are slate grey and empty, no windows just bare bulbs hanging from the ceiling casting harsh white light.

It looks like a prison, it might as well be. The urge to struggle flares again and she twists her wrists a fraction to feel the fabric rubbing against her skin. Instead of letting the panic consume her she tries to listen to the surrounding sounds. Inside of the room is silent but every so often she hears footsteps moving past her door. She listens the way Daryl taught her to see if they belong to the same person. He was always better at it than she was though, and through the storm in her mind she can focus. They leave and in her head she counts to 20 only to hear the same steps return a second time.

When the steps walk by her a third-time self preservation kicks in, and she is twisting her wrists against the bands. Something catches against the bands holding her still, it pinches painfully. Glancing down she finds an IV sticking out of her hand. She’s caught it, ripped it half way-out blood dripping down her wrist and hand. The blood soaks her hand and when she pulls again, the IV pulls out ripping the skin blood gushes, but her hand slips free.

Pandora’s hand stings painfully, but she ignores it leaning over to unbuckle the bands on her other wrist and ankles. Only then does she take a moment to breathe a moment to let her mind catch up. That's when the tears come again in that moment when she realizes she is alone. She tries to breathe tries to calm the panic clawing its way up into her chest. In her head, she hears Daryl, hears him beg her to stay alive to do anything. But this is too much being a captive again. That’s what she is a prisoner of these people, this mad man with a bat.

When she thinks of Negan, she sees the bat again, pictures the red mess of Glenn and Abraham, and there isn't anything to bring her back. The space in her chest gapes open wide, a pit of darkness. A sob breaks through her lips while her hand presses over her mouth the sound. It doesn't help she can't stop it, can’t pull herself together long enough to do anything. Like before Pandora tries to plug the hole, tries to fit her body into itself.  

She’s spinning now thinking about home and Daryl, and how she might never see any of that again. She had big plans for when she untied herself, instead she finds herself frozen.  The pain from her wounds is small, blood drips from her hand though staining the crisp white sheets. But soon she doesn’t even feel that anymore.

She thinks about Daryl again about his desperate plea for her to live to do as she’s told. The blood pooling in the bed from her hand isn’t a good start. Absently she takes the tube in her hand examining in between her fingers, the clear liquid drips from the needle tip pooling on to the jeans she’s still wearing. It is a poor start, but she never promised Daryl she would try. Maybe she didn’t want to try anymore.

Between her fingers the needle tip catches the light. Its sharp still with a well places slash on her wrist she may bleed out before anyone comes to check on her. Daryl’s last memory of her would be her cowering in the back of that van she would hate to leave him like that. Her hand shakes as she turns her arm over to expose the vein. The needle shakes between her fingers, it doesn’t matter its steady when she presses it down on the pulsing vein at her wrist.  She doesn't need to press hard before a small drop of blood collects under the needle. It’s a sharp pain a first, it focuses all her sense to that point, to the blood pooling from the needles tip.

Pandora doesn’t hear the door open until it’s too late and Negan is already in the room. The sound of the door hitting the wall makes her jump snapping her head in his direction. Flying from the bed she finds the corner leaving droplets of blood in her wake. The needle is forgotten in the fog of panic that now fills her head.

“Get her to the fucking doctor.” His tone is angry, words clipped at the edges with sharpness.

Her hands fly out to keep them away, even though no one has moved. She doesn’t cry again, instead she is silent eyes travelling up to stare at Negan. He has the bat, but it's in his hands hanging down at his side. It’s clean now but in her mind's eye it’s covered in blood. Two men stand next to him watching her. Negan watches her too open and curious for a few silent seconds then it's gone face hardening again.

“I meant now!”

“But Negan…”

He says something else that she doesn’t catch because she’s trying to move again to find another corner in the room. For a split second, she considers running for the door but there is movement again this time it's Negan is moving towards her. He reaches for her and the scream she lets out is high pitched verging on hysteria.  

“Come on princess.” She tries to shove him away her head swims,  he has his hand wrapped tightly around her upper arm pulling her upwards.

The pain is bright flashes in her eyes he’s holding the arm with the knife wound and she isn’t sure he knows or cares. Pandora screams again but this time it’s cut short as ice rushes into her veins. She struggles for a moment limbs still thrashing against his hold, it doesn’t last long. In seconds her limbs are a dead weight, arms falling to her sides. Negan is still holding her up which is good because she isn’t sure her legs could do the job alone. Turning her head she sees one of the men at her side the needle in his hand catch the light and her heart sinks.

Lifting her free hand, she tried to push Negan again knowing she can’t do much of anything. “Please.” She begs him crying again completely helpless. He is just watching her now then he pulls her towards the door. She wants to fight him part of her knows she should that she needs too. But she’s tried now and everything seems hard and for a second she can’t remember why she is struggling in the first place. That’s a dangerous thought not remember why she should fight, everything is so fleeting thoughts appear and disappear like smoke.

It's a squeaking sound that pulls her back from the cloud of drugs. She realizes she is moving down a hallway. Doors flash past her moving too fast for her to focus on making her head spin more. Her hand moves fingers splaying out on her legs, she isn’t walking. It takes her a second to process that, she isn’t being carried either. The squeaking is back though going round and round. From the corner of her vision there is movement a gray streak darting past her, she reaches out fingers brushing the smooth rubber surface. It’s a wheel chair, the wheels squeak painful as she’s pushed.

“Watch out there Princess.”  It’s Negan’s voice above her. He must be pushing her because he came to get her she remembers came into the room and dragged her out. Not before drugs she thinks sluggishly, they had to drug her first. It reminds her of the beginning when Daryl found her a screaming mess when they kept her drugged for days before trying to help her. Funny how things come full circle, how she always ends up kicking and screaming.

“Doc will patch you right the fuck up then we can have a chat.”

Pandora tries to look at him but her head refuses to obey her command instead it rolls forward until her chin is touching her chest. Everything is fog around her, thought come and go like smoke and she can't seem to lock them down. Somewhere she's knows this is wrong. That she shouldn’t sit here allowing herself to be lead down some unknown hallway by a mad man. Yet the moment that thought slips into her brain it's gone again.

Around her there are tiny pops of light. It's too bright against the cold darkness of the walls. Flexing her fingers she lifts her hand to cover her eyes, her hand drips droplets of warm blood onto her face and neck. The movement also causes a pulling in her arm and side but no pain.

“Watch it here.” Negan’s voice is above her still he shows his steps showing the forward progress of her chair.

Under her she feels the bump on the floor, it’s hardly feels like anything. Then as she struggles to see through her fingers the space around her changes. It's a room lights too bright air too sterile. It seems like a hospital and for a moment she pictures she's back in medical. Pandora can almost see the harsh white walls see the empty beds lining the space. This room is different though, and Denise isn't here.

Something to her right she hears something, the sound of a gasp and of flesh connecting with flesh. Lowering her hands she tries to turn in the direction but Negan stands in front of her.

“Well well fuck me didn't even think you'd be here. Let him go Dwight let him see how well we take care of her.”

When Negan steps away from her field of vision Daryl is moving towards her. Gasping she reached for him movements slow she lifts her hands out for him. Pandora is sure she’s crying but everything is muddled and slow so she can’t be sure. Though she hasn’t seen her own reflection since she’s woken up she imagines that he looks much worse than she does. Dressed in a dirty off white jumpsuit with an A painted on the front in red, his hair hangs listlessly in front of his eyes.

“Hey Pan.” Kneeling in front of the wheelchair hands gripping hers, so tight her bones grind together.

Pandora wants to say something, anything thing. She wants to answer him she does she wants to grab his hands with the same tight fierceness that he is grabbing her but her body will not obey. She's swimming underwater everyone else is underwater with her, but she can't find her way to the surface. The most she can do is lean forward, shift her weight trying to get closer. As she moves, it’s too much too fast, and she is sure she is about to fall out of the chair. Daryl is fast like always reaching out to catch her as her head falls into the crook of his neck.

“What did you do?” Daryl’s voice is hard a dangerous tone underneath his question.

Somewhere to her left Negan only laughs, “Fucking firecracker this one. Won’t let us get anywhere near her without a little help.”  

There is a shifting beside her she doesn’t see it not with her face now hidden in Daryl's neck. She feels him though feels Negan standing over her a heavy hand on her shoulder. In front of her Daryl goes stiff hands tightening around her middle, she should move away pull her shoulder from under Negan’s hand but she can’t. The edges of her vision are darkening, she has a few fleeting moments of consciousness left. With whatever strength, she has left she uses it to speak lips pressed against the side of Daryl’s neck she whispers that she loves him and tells him to fight. Her voice is low so low that she is sure Daryl is the only one that hears her.

Then she’s gone slipping back into unconsciousness as easily as she wakes up.

Waking up is different Pandora is on her side legs tucked up into her chest, limbs free to move and twist as they please. She doesn’t open her eyes right away, instead screws them shut enjoying the last few moments of peaceful darkness. Too many memories play behind her eyes, they mix with dreams making it harder to find the reality in all of it. She starts with the things she knows, Denise is dead, Abraham is dead, Glenn is dead, Daryl has been taken, she has been taken. Again. Her truths are horrible the world she occupies looks too much like the one Daryl saved her from. There is nothing safe anymore, whatever home she thought she had that’s gone.

When her tears sting her closed lids again she opens her eyes, intent on stopping the cycle of panic. Laying on her side the pain is a slow steady pulse it keeps her focused, keeps her mind from wandering too far. So she stays like that laying on where the knife stuck her she’s sure. It allows her to focus on what she sees. The room is different smaller maybe, but it looks like a room. From where she lays there are two pocket doors, the walls are painted a pale yellow, white doors shining brightly against the paint. When she turns over there is another door, this one larger all steel grey she assumes it leads out. At the end of the bed is a plush chair, and a dresser. It almost looks like a bedroom nothing like a blank empty room she woke up in the first time.

Pandora decides it times to sit up, she’s spent enough time coming out of being drugged that she takes it slow rolling up until she’s in a sitting position in the bed. In front of her sits another door she doesn’t notice before she wonders where it leads but knows better than to check right now. There is a tremble in her frame that speaks to her inability to stand. So instead she sits collects her thoughts in the growing silence.

The pain flares again as she turns to the right. Shaking fingers life the helm of the shirt she’s wearing. Before she gets it all the way up she realizes it’s not what she came in. Her pants are different to a light grey sweatpants hanging loosely around her legs. There is a flash of herself being awake of a brown haired women helping her dress. It’s only bits and pieces chunks of the scene missing like a badly done movie. Her head gets a sharp shake then she’s lifting her shirt to look.

On the right side there is a shiny new set to stitches holding her skin shut. It had been deeper than she realized, at the moment she almost didn’t feel the pain her brain focused on nothing more than killing the man. The wound was nothing another scar to add to her collection another life to add to the blood already on her hands. Her shirt falls from her fingers, it can only be assumed that her arm looks the same the desire to look is suddenly gone.

The room is silent the type of silent that sets her nerves on edge, Pandora has been sitting now for so long her muscles begin to cramp. So she stands, the movements slow. Left leg first foot pressing down into the ground counting to ten in her head until she is sure she won't fall over. Then her right leg follows the same process, she realizes then she will have to release the death grip she has on the head board now. For a few long seconds she doesn’t let go only stands still hands a white grip on the wooden post of the bed.

Pandora is sure she can walk, sure she can make it to check all the doors then back. There is a type of irrational fear in that idea, like that would be what makes it real for her. As if moving away from this bed somehow makes this the real world, she knows it real she does but if she can just hide in the bed a bit longer. If she closes her eyes, she can see Daryl in the back of that van begging her to stay alive. Fighting is how you live she has to reminds herself. Fighting is how she lived through the first time she was taken, not to fight that was to die. And maybe, just maybe she wasn’t ready to die yet.

The steps are slow easy every time she feels herself falter or tip she stops, taking long deep breaths before trying again. She made it to the first door, light filtered from under the tiny crack. Her hand grips the handle of the door, it didn’t move and she struggled to shove down the panic.  That’s the outside door, it locked. As it logically would be, but still Pandora panics. Turning she crosses the room in hurried panicked steps, heading for the two white doors.

With her hands shaking around the two knobs she pulled with so much force. The doors fly open almost sending her flying, she reacted quickly though. Tightening on the door handles she could keep herself standing. In front of her was nothing, but a closet filled with dresses, shirts and shirts. Its women clothes she notes. Most of the things inside are black with a few hits of colour here and there.

Tightening her hand on the handle she turned leaving it open and going to the other door. This one was heavier but with a quick jerk it opens, revealing a two-piece washroom with a sink and a toilet. She stumbled inside right away emptying her bladder into the toilet. Finished and standing at the sink she realized that mirror has been taken down. Licking her lips she grabs a towel from the side and runs it under hot water using it to wash her body. When she’s finished, she finds herself in the closet finding one of the few pairs of pants she has seen. A skin-tight pair of tights, with a long black t-shirt.

She flicks the light off taking a moment to sit in the darkness. Five breaths later she was coming back into the room, on hand gripped the edge of her shirt the other reached out pulling the covers of the bed. Slipping down she covers herself pulling the blankets up to her chin. Pandora stares unblinking at the door. He’ll come back for her, he promised when he told her to wait.

She felt more human than she had in days. But she had been awake for longer than usual giving her time to think. Daryl’s plea is forever in the forefront of her mind. When she looks deep inside herself, she isn’t sure she can see any fight left. But she did shower, and she did dress herself that was something. She’s so lost in her own thoughts that she doesn’t hear the door open behind her. Or notice the figure stepping through.

When he sighed, she snapped back into the real world that turning her head to face Negan. He sits comfortably the plush chair near the door the bat leaning on the side. He stared at her silently for a long moment before he speaks.

“Well, well good morning Princess.” His voice as a twang to it, a hitch that stops her breath just for a second.

She can't speak can't make her brain form words. So seconds pass in silence as they both stare. She takes him in, he’s clean now no longer covered in blood like he is in her dreams. He wears the same black jacket white T-shirt under it. The red scarf is back too she can’t look at that for too long it reminds her of blood. Abraham’s blood to be more exact on her face chunks in her hair. A shiver runs up her arms pulling her knees to her chest she breaks the eye contact.

“You are quite the handful you know that.”  He’s so relaxed, leaning back casually in his chair watching her.  “Don’t even know why the fuck I brought you here.”

She doesn’t answer again not sure if she could even if she wanted too, but she doesn’t want to. Instead she keeps her eyes down focuses on her own fingers as she curls them into a tight fist.

“From what I hear you’re a fucking force wrapped up in a beautiful crazy package.”

“I've killed three of your men I think..” Her voice comes out on its own, like it’s a person thinking and feeling separate from her brain. She didn’t think those words she is almost sure but there they are hanging in the surrounding air. Pandora can’t help but feel a sick sense of pride when she thinks back to the men she killed.

Negan’s laughter is loud a booming sound the echo’s off the bare walls. Pandora flinches it sounds like it did in her dreams. Her hands tighten into fists again nails biting into the flesh.

“Fuck yes you did Princess. I should be pissed I should be so fucking mad but I’m not you know why?”

Pandora can’t answer again can’t even look at him. She tried to make herself small again, like she learned at the camp. Negan doesn’t allow it though he’s not like the wolves, the chair under him groans in protest then his fingers are on her chin forcing her head up.

“Do you know why?” his tone is darker now fingers tightening demanding an answer from her.

“No.” The answer is whispered Pandora stills herself fighting the urge to pull her face free of him. As always, she thinks of Daryl wonders what he would do in her situation. Would be fight? Or would be bend allow himself to be frightened into submission. The moment passed, and she knew he would fight he would put all he had into fighting. So, she kept her head up eyes clear.

Grinning Negan let’s his hand drop leaning away resuming his casual pose. He doesn’t leave the bed though, and that sends Pandora moving back as much as she can, folding herself smaller against the headboard.

“Because you my dear Pandora have a giant set of lady balls and I like that.”  He's staring at her now unblinking. Clapping he breaks eye contact. “Besides you’re a fucking celebrity Pandora you won a gold medal for this great country!”

Pandora flinches turns her head from him to hide the tears now swimming in her eyes. She didn’t want to talk to him, doesn’t want to think about who she had been before this. Silent crept between them then, Pandora relaxed into it waiting for him to leave. Instead he only sat back got more comfortable in the chair.

“Sorry Princess how stupid of me you must be hungry.”

Negan gets up then the mattress springs backup without his weight under it. Pandora watches him move to the door, his stride is long powerful. She can help but stare.  The door behind him opens then very quickly someone is placing a plate of food into his hand, and he’s snapping the door shut.

“Here I got ya something.”

Pandora screams at her body to move at her arms to reach up and take the plate. She doesn’t though just can’t and then he is doing it for her. He takes her hand and molds them ready, and the moment he puts the plate down does she begins eating. Her body wakes up screaming for food after the first bite, and soon the plate is clear. Sometimes she hates it, hates her body for remember that it is indeed alive. How she would rather curl into a ball in this bed and waste away.

Negan is laughing as he opens the door to trade the empty plate with a full one. It more of the same that he gives her fruit meat and some carrots. Again, she clears it paying little mind to the food as she eats placing the empty plate at the end of the bed.

Negan is back in the chair leaning back casually watching her again, “See Princess I’m not a monster. I’ll take good care of you, you’re my new insurance policy.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Notes:

Well there you have it, sometimes I feel very bad for my poor Pandora. She deserves to be happy and safe, but who are we kidding with that! Drop me a comment or some kudos I love it! Also if you know someone or are interested in becoming my beta reader please let me know!

Chapter 35: Defiant

Notes:

I really thought I was going to get this sooner. Editing takes me so much time, I end up changing this. You all know how it is. I am without a Beta reading so all the editing is my own, which also means all the mistakes are my own!
Well here we go buckle up kids, it's going to get messy.

 

Three days pass and Negan doesn’t come back. At first it fine, better even. Pandora turns their conversation over and over in her head, insurance policy he called her. She is here to make sure Rick behaves himself, Negan didn’t need to tell her what happens if they don’t play nice she knows. She sees it every time she goes to sleep at night, the price of defiance. Being used again in any way makes her angry.   So she spends her days in an endless loop of rage, sometimes tries to plan, always she wonders where Daryl is. But as the hours pass Pandora is alone with her thoughts more than she likes to be.

The more she thinks in silence the more anxiety tries to choke her. Pandora spirals in those days goes spinning into panic and with no one to help bring her back they run their course. She doesn’t have the strength to get up when it’s over, instead she lays there.

She slips in and out of fit full dreams no matter the time of day. Someone keeps bringing food to her room when she’s asleep, but she doesn’t eat it. Only lets the plates sit piling up on the dresser.

In the time, she’s awake she explores the room, looks through every inch under the mattress behind the little furniture. The room was bare, not even a window. Vents above her pumped cool air down into the space. They had power then or some of them had power. As she’s walking past the door, she hears footsteps.

It reminds her of Negan’s first visit; she pictures him bursting through the door, the bat in hand. That image has her moving to the bed she had to push on the far side of the room. In the bed, she sobs and keeps her hand pressed hard over her mouth. Sometimes it’s easy to hide when you quiet, better to save the energy and use it for something better than making all that noise. Pandora falls asleep that night dreaming of Daryl.

When she wakes on the third day her body groans in protest. There is a few long seconds where she does nothing but try to test her muscles. Stretches her arms above her head, pulls her knees to get chest. They’re too weak shaking from strain with any movement almost immediately.  Too much stress not enough food and water, she wasn’t sure. But she ignored it shoved in down into darker places where it wouldn’t bother her. A dull pain still radiates from her side when she moves or twisted a certain way, so she twists and moves in a certain way. The pain is sharp, and it wakes her better than any cup of coffee.

The pain brings a moment of lighten bolt clarity to her brain, and she thinks she tried of being a victim. Never stop fighting that was always what she told herself. Every time the dead came for her she fought, every time the wolves came for her she fought them. She would fight this, she could fight this, fight them. They were just men; she had killed men before.

 

A quick scan of the room and she noticed that there was no fresh food, no one had come yet. Pandora takes a plate smashes it against the floor and collects the biggest share she can find. Her grip is tight on her piece of shard, she’s tiny enough to slip behind the door. The moment the handle moves she is ready and when the frame steps through she is in motion.  She launches herself forward and lands on the figures back. There is a grunt of surprise a whispered curse, still she holds on. To the right she hears glass shattering on the ground. But she’s fast even half starved, and when a hand flies out for her, she makes a quick slash. She gets something what she can’t tell the body part; the shard hits something she pushes harder. The figure under her growls a hand treads itself into her hair yanking her off balance.

“Princess I would have been so nice to you.” His voice freezes her in motion stops the blood in her veins. His fingers tighten again and then he drags her in front of him. “Look at the mess you made.”

He shoved her to the ground almost into the broken glass. Pandora almost doesn't stop in time, she is inches short of slicing her arm open on a shard of broken glass. She can picture herself now like Abraham and Glenn her head a ruined mess. Negan might kill her here, it wouldn’t be the worst. No, she might even welcome the end.

“Clean this fucking mess up Princess. I’ll be back.” Negan snarls at her kicking the broken plate.

Then he’s door shutting hard behind him. Pandora is still on the ground forehead touching to cold cement floor. Negan’s voice floats back to her be nice, that’s what he wanted her to be nice. Fuck this, fuck all of this. Fuck being used as a pawn in the game she wants no part in. Pandora doesn't cry again, can't bring herself to find tears. Instead a scream rips its way from her throat, rocking her ears. fingers found a plate and hurled it against the wall. Glass and food splashed outwards.

It’s a release the act of breaking things. The sound of the chattering glass filling the silence left in Negan’s wake. She rages after that smashing everything she can get her hands on. She destroys the rest of the plates hurling them at the wall and watching food spatter over everything nearby. The dresser is next, it take no effort to pull the drawers free leave the contents spread out on the floor.

 

When it over, she’s emptied herself out she curls into the corner behind the door.  Her shoulders press against the wall behind her as if she could press hard enough to fall into the wall itself. She’s not hidden she knows it , the moment they shut the door there she is.

The handle jiggles and she goes stiff. No, someone is coming in here. Whiping her head around she tries to find a place to hide. There isn’t, she has destroyed the room.  The bed is flipped over into the corner, mattress ripped open insides spilling out. The door opens and closes before she can even finish the thought she's having .

A light if flicked on over head and it's like the sun has risen in the room. In the light she has done a number on the room, it’s a ruined mess. Negan is there standing over her now, shaking his head. Two other men standing behind him, she doesn't miss their hands on their guns.

She wonders what their instruction is, to shoot her if she moves. Are they scared of her? They might be, she’ s wild here. More animal than human, more rage than logic.

“Princess, I thought you would be good .” Negan’s voice found her cutting through the fog in her brain.

Seconds pass in silence as Negan stares down at her, face twisting with rage. She flinches pushing herself back again trying to become smaller. There is a gap just to his left, she could make it if she's fast enough. She moves just a fraction.  Negan is fast, hand reaching for her hair, she can’t jerk away in time. So he grabs a fist full of her waves using it to haul her upwards.

“I’m gonna have to teach you to be good .”

Negan is all rage and fire when he speaks. He yanks her arm, almost taking it out of socket. Pandora screams, tries to get her footing to relieve the pressure. It’s no use, he moves faster than she can. He drags her out the bedroom, kicking the door open.  

“Thought you were smarter Princess I really fucking   did.”

He pulls her down the hall, never giving her long enough to get her footing. They turn and turn and turn go down steps, but never up. When they stop, it’s dark. There is no natural light here, only the fake glow of bulbs in the ceiling.  

Her brain trips over itself, this seems like a good idea her grand rebellion. Now she's terrified. Negan stops walking, jerks her arm pulling her upright beside him.

“Open the fucking door.” Negan roars in front of her Pandora watches the man take the keys from his belt and open the door.

When he does her heart, stops beating. The door opens to a small dark room the scent inside turns her stomach. She tries to look away but Negan threads his hands in her hair forcing her to turn. Daryl isn’t dressed, he huddles naked in the back. He hides his face against the incoming light from the hallway motions jerky and sharp.

“Daryl! Wanted to give you a chance to see the Princess here, before she goes off to learn how to be good .” By the time he had finished the sentence his lips were right next to her ear making her shiver. “Strong willed as you are Daryl. I wonder who breaks first.”

She reaches for him trying desperate to touch him. He only stares at her, silent. He had asked her to do one thing and she couldn’t. Daryl’s image swims in her tear filled vision. Fingers hooked into claws she pulls away from Negan, feeling little strands of hair come free from her scape. It doesn’t matter, doesn’t even hurt only makes her pull harder.

“Now, now none of that.” The word’s are growled out, and he yanks her again, hard.

In her state it throws her off balance, leaving her tripping over her own feet.

She doesn't go easy doesn’t know she had it in her anyone. Instead she bucks and kicks throwing her weight to the side. Negan swears and shakes her hard rattling her teeth in her skull. She’s being dragged down the hall now the door Daryl was behind getting slammed shut. The sound of the lock clicking into place bounces off the walls, echoing around her.  

“No!” She’s now trying to crawl at Negan. Losing him a second time even if she had only seen him for a second is too much. Pandora screams and cries begs to see him again, begs to have one more moment. While she rages Negan ignores her.

She is present enough to know they have stopped. Her frame shakes as she tiltes her head up to look at Negan, he grins down at her his smile all teeth.

“Night, night Princess.” Negan’s tone is sing song , then he tosses her into the darkness in front of her. The force he throws her sends her hurling into the wall, then everything falls into darkness.

When she wakes everything is stiff. For a second there is that moment when she forgets where she is. For a blissful moment, she thinks she fell asleep on the guard tower again. She’s done that before, spent the night out under the stars waiting for Daryl. It’s so real she can almost feel it, the breeze tickling her skin, the cool air giving her goosebumps.  But when she opens her eyes and sees only darkness she remembers.

She can’t quite remember how she got here. Chucks of time are missing in her head. She remembers Negan dragging her from her room. Remembers seeing Daryl huddled in the darkness and being dragged away before she too is in darkness.

Her head pounds and pulling herself up is hard. The pressure behind her eyes is unrelenting. All around her is darkness, so she blinks wondering maybe if she forgot to open her eyes. They are open though but where ever she is there is no light. Hand lifting she touches her nose, wiggles her fingers in front of her open eyes. Nothing happens, then she panics.  

It’s fast it swallows her whole sending her spinning into a cold sweat. Pandora bangs on the walls screams until her voice dies in her chest. Her panic is only meet with more silence. The small space fills with the sound of her own voice, it bounces off the walls echoing back in the ears. That is enough to almost drive her mad then , a space filled with nothing but her own panicking voice.

There’s no way to keep track of time, no sense of anything but complete darkness. Her stomach tightens painfully begging for food, something she can’t provide. Somewhere in her mind she can recognize that something is wrong, her sideburns. Sweat collects on her brow, but it’s cold in the little dark room. In the darkness, her fingers slipped under her shirt touching the wound in her side only to come away wet.

The door is open twice and each time a new plate of food place down before it is closed . They must fear her must fear her launching herself at them the second they open the door. She doesn’t have it in her though everything hurts in her skin burns with a fire she has no way to cool. She eats though the moment the door is closed she reaches out and grabs the plate scooping them bread off and shoveling and down emptying the contents of the water bottle before placing it back to the door.

Pandora tries to count the time between when someone comes to open the door , but she slips away into sleep. Dreams of Negan and his bat, being in the line up again. In her dreams all her nightmares blend into one. Negan’s men are the wolves, tearing at her clothes hands on her body as Negan beats her friends to death. She wakes screaming, nails shedding her skin to red ruin.

When she wakes again, it’s still dark and she things about Negan, about what he wants her to learn down here, to be good . She could do it. She would do what she’s told and listen the second she gets let out of this room. He would see. The door opens two more times, and she’s coherent enough again to reach for the plate. The thought of putting anything in her mouth makes her gag, so she leaves it full.

Although sometimes later she's not sure how much time  passed, she finds herself doubled over into the corner of her small dark room vomiting up her insides. That marks her descent into true madness. If the door opens more times or more food is delivered, she doesn’t notice because she can’t tell the difference between being awake and her dreams. Peaceful dreaming is something she knows nothing about in the darkness whether her eyes are open or closed nightmares plague her.

The wolves come for her in the darkness hands and mouth made of shadows curling around her ankles and moving their way up her body. Negan comes for her to swinging that bat and his face fingers tangled in her hair and dragging her up and then down forcing her to look at Daryl. Daryl, she dreams about him too but he’s back in the lineup his head a ruined mess, and Negan is waving a bloody bat in her face. Pandora does nothing but cry continue to vomit curled in the corner of the room. Her skin burns when she touches it, but she is covered in goosebumps shaking from the cold. The wound on her side continues to leak sticky liquid, and she’s almost positive she will die in this room.

There is no sense of time, only darkness always just the darkness. Dreaming and waking are no different here she can’t even tell when she is awake. Whether she is awake or asleep, the nightmares haunt her every moment. It ’s a cycle the wolves rape her in the darkness, Negan kills everyone she loves before her eyes. It ’s never ending and somewhere in her head something is broken .

Negan comes back to her sometimes, whispering telling her to be good , that good girls get good things. She can be a good girl, she can be so good . She whispers it to herself sometimes, whispers she’s good. Pandora will do anything to get out of the darkness.

Voices float around her, fingers brush the burning flesh of her forehead. There is light streaming into her dark cage it stings her eyes forcing her to hold them shut. She can hear men talking somewhere around her. But she can’t quite make out the words. It’s the wolves, she thinks, it must be them finding her here in her nightmares.

“Please, please.” She finds her voice however small and horse. It’s not the wolves coming for her, the world swims into focus and she sees Dwight.  “I’ll be good , please.”

The light is too bright after so long in the dark, her eyes don't adjust don’t make out anything but white light. She has to close them, it’s all too much again. As she slips away again, she can hear shouted curses following her into the dark.

“You fuck heads didn’t notice!” Negan roars rage boiling. “She’s burning up, not eating. Fuck!”

The girl is limp again in Dwight’s arms. She’s a mess, thin and sick looking. Her shirt plastered to her side wound oozing fluid. It been five days, she’s only been in there for five fucking days.

Negan stands over Dwight before leans down taking her limp form in his arms. He covers the ground to medical in long angry strides. Heads will roll for this shit, for letting his pretty new guest get like this. He should have checked on her should have gone down there his fucking self and looked.

He kicks the door open setting inside and turning his head. Dr Carson stands form his desk brows knitted. There is a room to the side Negan carries her inside laying her down gently . His fingers brush her hair from her eyes, under his fingers her skin is fire.

“Carson!” He screams. “Get your fucking ass in here.”

Dr. Carson steps in pulling the curtain closed behind him.

Negan turns on the Doctor, “If she dies you die.”

Then he went to find out who had let this go on under their noses.

In her head Pandora is always running, her dreams never give her a moment to rest. She runs faster than she has done before. The trees around her hide the whispering figures. In the darkness the wolves howl, laughing as they come for her.

Whistling comes from the tress Pandora stumbles tripping on the ground falling into an open clearing. The darkness is gone then chased away by bright artificial lights.

“Princess! I found you!” Negan stands here in the middle of the clearing arms outstretched wide. In his left hand he holds the bat, the end touches the floor. She can't help but notice his fingers trace the flattened top of his weapon of choice.

Pandora falls to her knees now sobbing, he is the light in her darkness. Negan will save her that's why he does he saves people. If she lets him, he will save her. She remembers the room the four walls encased in darkness, the never-ending loop of nightmares.

“Please,” She begs leaning down forehead pressed to the dirt floor. “I’ll be good , don’t let them get me.”

Negan is in front of her then grinning, “Oh Princess I know you will be good now.”

The darkness comes then moving like it’s a creature itself. It slithers and curls around Negan. He doesn’t notice only kneels down fingers under her chin tilting her head up.

“You’re gonna be so good.”

Then he’s gone swallowed into the darkness.

Pandora doesn’t wake right away, she floats somewhere in the nothingness of her mind. Half awake and half asleep she hears them and knows they are talking about her.

“The infection is clearing and her fever broke last night.”

“ Finally , some good fucking news. Have her moved to her new room.”

“Yes, Negan.”

When she comes to again her eyes open right away, the world around her lit. A soft warm yellow light, from a source she can’t see. A sob escapes her lips, she squeezes her eyes shut tight as she says a silent prayer. Thanking whoever was listening for letting her out of the darkness. She thanks Negan too, in the darkness he came for her, he saved her.

Pandora stays like that for a moment eyes shut tight tears staining her cheeks. For long seconds. Her chest is light the pressure of the darkness lifted, allowing her to breathe deeply again. In the light everything makes sense, in the light she could tell the difference between being awake and being asleep. She was almost sure she had spent the entire time in a fevered state of dreaming. Somewhere in between being awake and asleep that's where she was tortured.

There are the sounds outside of her bedroom, with her eyes shut they are crisp and clear. Footsteps, she thinks to herself. A tapping too, a small faint tick, tick, tick from somewhere outside this room. There is a moment of irrational panic, in which she pictures being dragged back into the darkness. She wonders if it’s Negan, if he has come to ask her again if she knows how to be good . This time she knows she answers, she knows. She can be good .

In her dreams Daryl had been with her, telling her in a hushed voice that to live she had to do whatever she needed to do to stay alive. She would listen because he was right, he was always right. She was so sure she could fight her way out, but some things were worse than death, that box had been worse than death.

The footsteps passed by her again, and nothing happened. Still laying in the bed she runs her hands over her face, tangles her fingers in her hair and pulls a bit too hard.

‘Just to be sure.’  She tells herself ‘Just to be sure ’

It’s hard to pull herself up from the bed, her body stiff from being still for too long. The bed she finds herself it, is nothing short of amazing. Even half asleep and terrified she can appreciate how comfortable she is. The sheets are plush, thick warm jersey material. The comforter is heavy on top of her legs keeping her grounded.

Her fingers tremble as she brushes the clean shirt she’s wearing lifting it, just enough to see her skin under it. A patch of skin on her side is covered in a thick white bandage. Her fingers run over it, pushing down until she feels the resistance of her own skin . The pain is a quick flash that has her dropping her fingers.  It hadn’t looks like that before, she used to be able to see the stitches.

Bits of conversation floated back to her, something about an infection, a fever. It makes sense she thinks, she remembers being hot and cold at the same time. There is a flash of someone carrying her, shouting and swearing, Negan’s voice demanding to know who let this happen. She remembers hearing herself pleading with him telling him she could be good , th en nothing.

Finally she opens her eyes, letting the room come into focus in her vision. The room she’s in is different this time, different from the one she first woke up in. Pandora has lost count of how many times she has woken up somewhere different.

This room is bigger, the walls are painted a bright white, with a deep blue wall behind the bed. The bed was bigger than the last one too, this was a queen almost as nice as the one she slept on back home. The bed she sat in was pushed against the wall, on the wall opposite her there was a large steel door. She had been here long enough to know it lead to the outside. To the right of the door was a small kitchenette, nothing more than a small L shape of counters. But it had a small plug in stove top, and a sink. There was a small round table was well, with only two chairs. Just past the table there is another door, washroom she assumes but can’t be sure until she can get up and check. Past that on the same wall as the bed is a window, with a plush chair and a bookshelf  tucked in the corner of the room.

Pandora can’t help but wonder if this is a trick, if this was another game to break her. Going from the darkness to this it was too good to be true.

A knock on the door makes her blink again and pulls she blankets up over her chest. She doesn’t answer, not sure what the new rules are if she has the power to decide who comes in and who doesn’t. So instead she is silent eyes trained to the door. It unlocks, swings open to reveal a brown-haired woman standing in front of another man.

The women look familiar, but the man standing behind her he is unknown.

“You can go now.” The women tell the man over her shoulder. In one hand, she holds a tray of food, she uses her free hand to shut the door in his face.

“It’s good to see you awake.”

Pandora isn’t sure what the say, she opens her mouth, but no sound comes out. In her head, she tries to sort through the bits of memories she has, tries to find out where she knows these women from.

The women step into the room she moves to the small kitchen and produces a bed tray from inside one of the cupboard. She sets it up on the bed and places the food on it. Pandora watches as she pulls up a chair from the kitchen table bringing it to the side of her bed. Close enough that they could talk, but far enough so that Pandora is still at ease. Or as much as she could be.

“You should eat,” The brown-haired women gestured to the plate and the water sitting on the bed.

It looks like something she would get in a hotel, scrambled eggs, bread, dried meat and an apple. Pandora reaches for the water first uncapping in and emptying it in seconds. She moves to the food then , chewing will keep her from having to talk.

“You don’t remember me do you?”

An apple half way in her mouth Pandora shakes her head eyes down, embarrassed at the gap in her memory.

“I’m Sherry. I’m one of Negan’s wives. We meet before when you were in medical. And before that...” Sherry doesn’t finish.

Pandora remembers now, remembers Sherry helping her from the chair taking her behind the curtain and getting her dressed. Anything after that is a blur or images, none of them making sense out of order. There is something else, a memory somewhere in her head that is demanding her attention. A place where she had seen Sherry before this, it doesn’t come to her now though.

When the plate is finished Pandora opens her mouth trying to find her voice, “You helped me, I remember that.”

Sherry’s tight lips form a small smile, “That’s right.”

They fall back into silence then ; Pandora eyes wonder the room again, taking everything in. She still isn’t sure that is she awake, she could be imagining Sherry too.  This whole thing could be nothing more than ber broken mind trying to help her forget.

“This is your new room” Sherry tries to smile, but her eyes dart to the door for a second. Then her voice drops in pitch to almost a whisper. “Pandora there is always something worse ok? He will put you back in the box if he needs too.”

 

The box that’s what they call her, her little ninth circle of hell. The box. A small dark place where she left some of herself. She draws her knees slowly to her chest, pulling her arms tightly around them. She presses herself together like that, there is pressure on her stitches. It’s almost sweet the pain, it clears her head.

“I don’t need that,” She whispers voice shaking. “I know how to be good .”

Sherry looks at her now one corner of her lip turning up in a smile. The woman reaches out, touching her hand. The touch is light fluttering, if Pandora wasn’t looking she wouldn’t have felt it “That’s good, it’s not that bad here.”

Pandora chokes back the tears that swim in her eyes pulling her hand away. Every breath she takes hurts, like a million tiny shards of glass.  It takes a few seconds for her collect herself enough to speak.

“Can you tell me—”

Her words are cut short by the door swinging open with a bang. Negan stands in the opening; Pandora’s eyes go right for the bat in his hand. It sends her heart tripping over itself. But he lays it down against the wall before shutting the door behind him.

“Princess your awake that is so good , just in time for the show.”

Sherry stands putting herself in front of Negan blocking him from her line of sight.

“She knows Negan, she’s terrified already.”

“I don’t give a shit Sherry, she doesn’t know until I see it. Get the fuck out.”

Sherry looks back at Pandora once, then she’s hurrying past her door shutting it behind her.

Negan strides forward taking the chair that Sherry had been in a moment ago.

“Now listen Pandora, things have been a little rough between us. This isn't how I like to do things ” He lifts his hand rubbing the small beard he had growing. “I think you know what I want you to do, but I gotta be sure ok?”

Negan stands again holding his hand out for her. She hasn’t stood in days and doesn’t even know if she can manage it.

But she tries because that is what he is asking her, she must do what he asked if she wants to be good . Her shaking fingers fling the blankets off, leaving her lower half bare. She isn't wearing shoes, only a thick pair of socks. She is wearing pants too, a loose fitting pair of sweatpants.

“I can be good now.” Pandora whispers she doesn’t take his hand. Instead she pushes herself off the bed, he steps aside a hand on her elbow to keep her standing.

“And that’s that I want to hear, but I need to show you what happens when you’re not good.”

The blood in her veins freezes then , he tugs her to get her moving but she can’t. Her head fills with images of the box, of nothing but never-ending darkness.

“Please,” She looks up at him trying to pull her arm away. “I can’t go back in there I was good , like you wanted.”

Pandora is close to hysterics, eyes wide tears streaming down her cheeks. She digs her heels into the ground tried to stop the motion of movement. He saved her from there, he can’t take her back. She did everything she was told, she was nice to Sherry she ate.

Negan stops than its slow, he looks down at her.

“Don’t you worry Princess Pandora, no box for you, I have something else in mind.”

Notes:

Well that did you think? I struggled a lot with this chapter. With the direction I decided to take Pandora in. Humans are messy, recovery is messy, and sometimes things don't go as planned. Let me know what you think! Comments fuel my fire.

Chapter 36: Good Girl

Notes:

Hello! I'm back loves. All ready with a new chapter! I'm currently writing chapter 43 so there is much more to come.

Good

 

Everywhere he takes her, people drop to their knees. She eyes them from her under the curtain of her hair, none of them glance up. All down on one knee their eyes fixed to the floor, like he is a king, god among men. She tries to catch their faces, but they are all tilted downwards no one dares meet her gaze. No one notices her either, she assumed she may be more of a spectacle. The crazy screaming former gold medal winner. They don’t seem to care though, maybe they don’t even see her with how fast they drop to their knees.

The surrounding walls are a slate grey color. Light is scarce, and the sun struggles to light the darkened halls through windows. This place has the appearance of a factory, with all the darkened halls and steel.

He takes her down a flight of steps. She tries to map out where they are going but they move too fast, and Pandora is still on the edge of hysteria unable to full process where they are going.

She doesn’t ask where they are going instead spends all the energy she has trying to control her shaking. The tremors run deep shaking her bones. The tears have stops, but Pandora struggles to calm her breathing. Negan said he wouldn’t hurt her, she doesn’t believe him. Fear of the dark room keeps her silent beside him.

Only when she is sure they have stopped moving does she take the chance to look up. They stand in front of a large steel door. They are on the ground level now, walls lined with bright windows. The rays are bright and warm, they cut through through the painted windows to kiss her cold skin. The man standing in front of it turns the lock with one of the many keys on his ring. They step through the opening.

The first thing she feels is the sun on her face, a breath escaped her, but it sounds more like a sob. Her heads moves of its own vilitional, face tilted to the sky drinking in its rays. She can tell the season, spring, or summer perhaps. The air smells fresh the sun seems like at any moment it could burn brighter. It’s almost too good to be true. Almost enough to make her forgot why she is being brought out here.

“Now Princess you didn’t cause this remember,” Negan voice cuts through her perfect moment in the sun. “But I need you to see it if you ever think of pulling a stunt like the last one.”

He holds her tight against him as they hide in a door alcove. It makes little sense, they are hiding from nothing. The parking lot as she calls it is empty. In front of them there are two cars, a truck, and rows of motorcycles. It seems like it’s only the two of them standing there, with her holding her breath. Then it isn’t, from the far side a door opens.

Pandora sees him, and there is a second where her brain stops and starts struggles to make sense of the scene in front of her. Time seem to slow down as she watches Daryl rush from the door, his movements wild, frantic. He runs for the bikes looking them over.  Negan’s hand presses against her mouth keeping her quiet. She can’t even make a sound when she watches all the men come out of hiding to meet him. Negan whistled and pulled her forward with him, he dropped his hand from her mouth and puts them around her waist instead. The shock zips through her, shutting down whatever thoughts she might be having. She can do nothing but move with him, allow Negan to pull her along.  

He stops her in front of Daryl who stands frozen, eyes gazing up at her. Pandora is crying now, but she isn’t making a sound tears streaming down her cheeks. She blinks trying her clear her vision. Her free hand clasps herself over her mouth, dread curls in her gut. Dread grows a creature threatening to send the food she had just eaten spilling from her mouth to make room for itself.

“Are we pissing our pants yet ?” Negan laughs at his own joke , Lucille resting on his shoulder . “Who are you?” He asks the man behind him pointing with Lucille .

“ Negan .”

“Who are you?” He points again to someone else. She isn’t fast enough to follow where he swings the bat, a whoos displaced air to her left cheek.  

“ Negan .”

“Who are you?” His voice is right in her ear finger dragging across her chin. She shivers against him and almost loses herself in the panic. She remembers the little black room, and the darkness she never wants to go back too. She forces her eyes open not realizing she had snapped them shut. Daryl is still staring at her face blank, but he stares at her. And she doesn’t need words to speak to him, she can see everything he means to tell her.

‘I love you,’ his eyes say. ‘It’s ok.’   

“Negan.” She whispers it, trying to breathe through the shattering in her chest.

“You see that? I am everywhere.” Negan puts his arm around her hip again, pressing her body closer to him. “And that was your shot to prove to me to that the fundamental fact was sinking in and you failed. Which sucks because your life was about to get so much cooler. Am I right?”

“Damn right .” Fat Joey answers with a shake of his head .

Negan leans away from her putting his bat near Daryl’s feet. “Now Dwight gave you some options. I don’t think you get it yet, so I’m gonna break it down for you. One you wind up on the spike and you work for me as a dead man. Two you get out of your cell you work for point you going to wish you were dead. Or Three you work for me, you get yourself a brand-new pair of shoes, and you live like a king or a queen.” He glances at her for a second reaches up to touch her cheek delicitaly. “The choice is pretty obvious, there is no door number four. This is it, this is the only way.”

Her heart in her chest is the only sound, and Pandora wants to speak wants to tell him she loves him. But her mouth is to dry and her tongue is too thick. “Screw it.” Negan pulls his arm back getting ready to swing Lucille. Daryl doesn’t move when he swings, she lunges forward only to have someone pulled her back by her top. She sobs fingers hooked and reaching for him.

“Wow, you don’t scare easy. I love that. But Lucille well kinda pisses her off, she finds it disrespectful. Lucky for you she’s not feeling too thirsty today. But I am, so I’m gonna go get me a drink with the Princess.” Negan pulls her by the elbow now, turning her away from him.

Pandora struggles against him, but Negan only grips her tighter. He’s drifting, and she hears flesh hitting flesh behind her. The sounds vibrates through her, eching in her bones. Straining she tries to see him, twisting her neck around to catch even the smallest glimpse. He’s hidden in the mass of bodies around him.

“Please!” her head turns back to Negan a free hand reaching for his arm. “that’s enough please.”

Negan pulls her back inside the door shuts and locks behind them.

“Oh Princess it’s enough when I say it’s enough,” Negan looks down at her and smiles. “You were good though Princess gave me right answer. Who are you?”

Bile rises in her throat, “Negan.” She chokes it back enough to answer. That’s what he wants to hear, that’s the answer of a good girl.

Part of her rages at how easily Negan broke her, but was she ever whole to begin with.

“That’s my girl.” Negan laughs. “I’ll send you back to your room Princess. Maybe I’ll come by later.”

Negan’s touch is replaced by someone else, grip lighter than Negan’s. Pandora glances at her, lightly tan skin, tight coiled curls framing her face. Their eye contact doesn’t last long, the women is turning away. A hand between her shoulder blades directs her down the halls. The halls look the same, and she doesn’t care to remember the path back, it doesn’t matter.

Alone in her room the shock sets in. The sobs rise up like the tide, drowing her. The sound of Daryl being beaten haunts her the most. The sound of fists on flesh echoing through the empty space of her mind. She keeps her eyes shut tight, refusing to open them.

Negan doesn’t come back when the door to her room opens it’ s Sherry . There is a bolt of clarity in her head in, a light brightening the darkness of her memory. Sherry had been with Dwight in the burnt forest. Sherry took their weapons, stole Daryl’s bike. She had been so focused on Dwight after Denise was gone that she hadn’t remembered Sherry .

Here her head has been a mess, too messy to remember really. Too busy trying to keep moving forward to think about looking back.

“This is your fault .” Pandora mutters as Sherry sets down her food on the small table.

The other women doesn ’t turn, but Pandora watches her body pull itself into a tight line. Silence blankets the room, pinpointed with their breathing. Pandora’s long deep breaths, and Sherry’s quite panicked ones.

“This is all your fault, you started it in the woods that day. Everything else came from that.” Everything came after that. They found the Hilltop agreed to take a Saviours out. They wouldn’t have known Alexandria existed if Pandora and Daryl hadn’t met them in the burnt woods. “I went out looking for Dwight for you, that’s how they found us.”

The memories of that night still haunted her, how she floated in and out of darkness coming up to find her friends dead. Her face is warm in some spots skin wet, she can almost see the bit of brain running down her face .

“I didn’t know , how could I know you would end up here?” Sherry’s voice cuts through the memories threatening to take over.

“ Get. out .” Rage makes her voice tremble when she speaks.  

Sherry whips her head around to Pandora , but Pandora doesn’t look up eyes fixed on her hands.

“ Pandora I, I want to help you, I want to help him.”

The roar that come from inside her chest is more animal than human. “Get out!” She screams it now room shaking with the sound. Tense seconds of silence pass then she can hear Sherry’s footsteps retreating from the room. She is so stupid for not remembering her, for allowing her into the room exchanging words like this wasn’t the women who ruined everything. It’s not all her fault thought on the best of days Pandora can seldom keep her thoughts straight. She didn’t remember her, Sherry all clean and pretty she almost isn’t the same person Pandora met in the woods.

When she hears the door click shut the rage fizzles out and turns into despair. Pandora sobs curling back down under the blankets, she cries until she slips into darkness.

The sound of her own screaming is what wakes her up, a harsh shrill sound . Curled on her side Pandora sobs , too panicked to cover her mouth. For a heartbeat she forgets where she is, she holds her breath and waits for Daryl to put his arms around her whisper she’s safe. But as the shadows in the room come into focus so does reality, and she faces the knowledge he isn’t here. Her heart breaks all over again.

Losing him this time is different it hurts more, Pandora thinks trying to pull her body tighter into itself. Outside is still dark, small flickers of light shine down on the ground outside her window. The half light cast long shadows in her room, allowing her to see only the outline of objects.

To the right of the bed a lamp sits on the nightstand , she can only assume it works why else would it be there. It ’s more work than she imagined to uncurl herself. Her body protests any movement even the smallest ones.

When she clicks on the light, it cast a dim glow around the room. Pandora is facing the window. Outside stars light the sky, the night clear, and cloud free. It almost painful how beautiful the world is in these moments it will be so much uglier in the daylight. Hauling herself from the bed, is hard too. Her feet hit the ground and she is almost certain her legs cannot bear her weight. She moves anyway, ease step she takes to the window easier.   

The chair placed there reminds her of the matching ones she had in her room. They are even pulled in front of the window, just like they had been at home. Below her window there are people moving around, fewer than she sees in the day. But these days someone always has to be awake, to keep watch, to keep everyone safe. Safe, it’s a funny word. Something she had such little experience with. She felt safe for a while behind the walls, with Daryl. He made her feel safe as safe as she could ever be.

The growling of her stomach brings her out of her own head. She never touched the food Sherry brought her. Last time she didn’t eat she ended up in the box . That gets her moving to the small kitchen.

It ’s cold now, a mushy pile of veggies and rice. She eats it though; frightened Negan will come at that exact moment and see she hasn’t eaten anything. He would send her to the box then, she was sure. Not eating wasn’t how she stayed a good girl.

Pandora doesn’t imagine she will get anymore sleep, the sky is already lightening in the distance better just to be awake. She heads for the bathroom it was always her favorite place back home.

This bathroom is cold. Two gym style showers, nothing more than a concrete base and metal bars for a blue shower curtain to hang . There is a chest of drawers inside though, and when she opens them she finds everything she might need . The top of the dresser is lined with tightly rolled towels , it reminds her of hotel. Filled with everything one might need . Running her fingers over the soft towels she wonders why anyone would even bother. Negan didn’t seem like someone to care if she was comfortable . He was using her, keeping her alive to keep Rick in control. But the room is nice and that makes her wonder.  

Undressed she leaves her clothes in a puddle on the floor, than turns the water on. Pandora’s once beautiful body is . The shower is nothing like the one she had. The water doesn’t get warm. It doesn’t matter though, she can’t relax here. Instead she finishes as fast as she can. Washing layers of grim from her hair and skin.

The clothes she finds in the room are terrible. The closet is filled with dresses, shirts , and skin -tight leggings. It takes forever to find enough pieces of clothing to cover herself. Pandora ends up with a cropped T- shirt under a longer spaghetti strapped shirt s, both shirts are black . It leaves her arms barer than she likes, showing off the stitches and the muscle clinging to bone. The pants are just as hard. She finds a black pair of tights to slip under a dark red shirt . Despite the amount of clothes she is wear, she feels exposed.

She does another pass of the closet. More careful this time, separating each piece to clothes to look at them. Nothing will be better, whatever she was able to get is as good as it gets.  

She finds herself back in the high-backed chair watching the sun come up over the sky. It’s almost peaceful, she can almost forget where she is. Almost. It’s odd here, Negan is confusing. She remembers hearing his rage when he finds her in the box.  Remembers soft whispered words somewhere in her head. Pandora dozes off to sleep again in the chair only to wake up to the door opening.

“Good morning Princess.” Negan’s voice is booming and cheerful. It fills all the spaces where there used to be silence.

Her eyes snap open, frame going stiff curled in the chair. She turns her head watching him enter, doing a sweep of the room. The room is clean, the plate she had used in the small sink, not washed but away. Pandora wants to be sure everything is perfect, no reason for her to go back in the box. He always triggers thoughts of the box, the sound of his voice sends her back to the moment when he tossed her in the darkness.

“Up and ready I like that.” Negan comes around her chair , two plates of food balanced in each hand. “Come here let’s eat.”

Fear makes her stall only for a second, but that same fear had her moving towards him. He sits at the small table, she joins him pushing her chair as far away as she can.

The food looks good breakfast sandwiches. She doesn’t wait for him to say anything just eats. That’s what you do if you want to be good , and she wanted to be good . In her chest her heart beats pounds, banging incessantly against her rib cage. He must be able to hear it because Negan is staring at her as she wraps shaking fingers around the sandwich.

He doesn’t speak until they are half way through the meal. Pandora is thankful using the time to calm herself down. She watches him though through heavy strains of hair she keeps an eye on him. He’s too dangerous not to watch, and she couldn’t look away even if she wanted to.

Negan sighs leaning back he crosses his arms over his chest and stares. “It occurred to me Princess you live under my room eat my food, and I know almost nothing about you. I don’t even know how you got so fucking crazy.” He laughs at the last part, like her mental state is nothing but the punch line of a joke. “Now I know you and Dwighte boy go way back, back before he understood the way of the new world. He said you were already crazy then, and already with our boy Daryl. So tell me how did you meet him?”

The question shocks her back into the present moment . She didn’t think he would care why does anything about her matter if he is only waiting for the moment to kill her. She cocks her head to the side to stare at him. He stares back eyes darkening the longer she is silent for.

“I think I asked you a question Princess.”

A lump rises in her throat almost choking her. An old water bottle sits to her right, but she drinks forcing the lump down. Negan frightens her, not just the threat of the box but everything about him puts her on edge. There is a touch of madness to him as well, it comes in flashes. a dim burning light in his eyes that she can sometimes feel in herself.

Maybe that is the connection between them, she wonders absently. They both have the same deep madness that struggles to surface sometimes.  Sometimes her madness is her greatest weapon, how many times had it truly saved her? She lost count. She thinks Negan might feel the same about his, he must count madness as his strength.

 Pandora knows the story of how Daryl meet her. Daryl had told her the story many times, it was part of the facts she use to calm herself down. But it only a story she remembers little from the first few days she spent in Alexandria. Everything from the first few days is nothing but jumbled memories, sounds and sights she can’t place.

“Daryl found me, in the woods.” Daryl found her tied to a tree begging sobbing as one of them raped her. He killed the man, cut her loose and brought her back with him. “He saved me.” She whispers it memories flooding up inside her like water. Her hand tightened into a fist, and the pain of her nails biting into flesh keeps her grounded.

“From those dead fuckers?”

When Pandora looks up Negan is watching her general interest playing on his face . Again, she isn’t sure what to make of him. Unease rolls in her gut at the sight of his face . There is a second or two of lag in her response time as she pieces together his question. He thinks Daryl saved her from the dead . It ’s funny sort of, she fears the dead yes, but the living they were the real monsters.

“No, he saved me from the living.” Something changes then a burning urge to tell him, to make Negan understand. Her eyes find her hands instead of his face, she twists her finger around each other nails occasionally scraping skin. “They called themselves the wolves, they killed everyone I loved, then they took me and all the other pretty girls. They always liked them pretty.”

Pandora remembers the girls with her, none of them lasted long. They liked the fight , liked to have to use force to take what they wanted, broken girls didn’t fight . Broken girls got left tied to trees as food for the dead. Silence fills the room she only notices now after it has already stretched into minutes. Her head jerks up sharply fearing she gotten lost in her head . Negan is still there though , studying her. She can’t help but notice his hands curling and uncurling against his legs.  

“I kill men like that Princess.” His tone is dark, it has an edge that’s different from before.

Pandora believes him though , believes he would kill anyone who did that or tried to. She finds an odd comfort in this new knowledge, to know he understands. “I do too.” She whispers watching him. Another moment passes where neither of them move, then he nods once before turning to fish something from in his pocket .

“Brought you these, doc says you gonna need em.” From his pocket he pulls out a small zip-lock bag . Inside is a round white pill, the other half a circle.

She knows what they are and doesn’t ask questions just takes the little bag and empties the pills. There is still water in the bottle, it helps them go down. Her heart still pounds though, he wouldn’t drug her for nothing. Wouldn’t waste these if she was staying in this room.

“We are going out today Princess. I’ve been so damn busy these days I’m late visiting your little settlement there .”  Negan is standing now, Pandora’s eyes follow him. “Let’s go pay Rick a visit shall we?”

Notes:

So?? What did you think? I loved the turmoil of this chapter. I loved seeing the effect of a different form of trauma, and her struggle with losing herself. Tell me what you think! I love comments.

Chapter 37: Behave

Notes:

I am so sorry! I cannot tell you how insane my life has been lately. But I'm here back with a new chapter for all you lovely people. To tell you all the truth I have no idea where this is going, I just write and see where it takes me. I also no longer have a beta reader, I try my best to edit but it isn't always perfect.

 

“These upper levels are for all the higher ups.” Negan makes a sweeping motion with his hand. “My room, my wives rooms a few of my good men, and you.”

Outside her door to the right is a hallway of different doors, the hall is long leading to a set of stairs to somewhere she doesn’t know. Down she assumes, maybe even outside. To the left two more doors sit then a railing that looks down to the other levels.

The warm air moves past her, circulated by the fans she catches sight of over her head. She hears them too a low humming sound in the background. It’s loud below them, sounds bouncing off the walls echoing around her.

“This is the marketplace.” Negan leans on the railing. Pandora can’t help but stare at him, at the attention he commands without even trying. His eyes move swift over the people under him, she can almost see the wheels in his head turning. Then he shifts toward her the distance between them grating on the edges of her nerves. He’s so close, always so close. It’s hard to think when he does that, that's why he does it.

Her eyes snap from his face after a moment, turning to follow his gaze instead. People are mulling about below them going about their lives. They know he is standing above them, but no one so much as glances in his direction. The whole place runs with an invisible order, everyone moves around knowing where they need to be. That brings a sense of calm to her, the calm inner workings of their machine. This place seems to run like a well-oiled machine.

“Other people sleep on the other side,” he waves his hand towards the people below them in a dismissive gesture. “Few people have a room nice as yours Princess remember that.”

Pandora will remember, she knows what her other option is. Somewhere down the stairs there is a dark room, where all her nightmares live in the darkness, and everything she does is to make sure she doesn’t go back.

The tour is short like Negan said it would be. He waves his hand in a few directions and gives her vague explanations about where things are. He breezes over the exits, and other things. Her brain struggles to understand what he has left out, there are things she knows he isn’t saying but she can’t quite lock onto them. He has missed things, doors he didn’t talk about, hallways he ignored.

Negan is still talking as they walk together, his hand is holding her elbow grip light. She’s not listening though she watches the people moving past her. Some of them glance at her and the look in their eyes makes her want to shrink smaller. Most people do not even give her a single glance they keep their heads down breezing past her.  

Someone calls Negan from the right and he drops her elbow before turning away. Negan is deep in conversation leaving her forgotten.  She comes to a stop in the middle of a pathway she titles her head up to the sky catching the warm say’s of sun. A chill found her skin the shade, here the sun can chase it away.

The earth has no regard for the horrors of the new world. It moves on passing from day to night season to season. It’s a wonder, the earth is relieved she is sure. Less stress fewer humans, the ability to heal from the long standing damage done by humans. Mother Nature may not even miss them, the humans that are already gone.

People come and go around her shifting to the side to pass her without getting to close. Pandora wonders what they know about her. Do they know what he did to her people that night in the woods, how he bent their community into submission. Although she got the sense that Negan bringing people back with him was commonplace.

A sound catches her attention as she stands, mooing. Turning to the left she moves further away from him following the new sound. Enclosed in a small fenced in area there are a few cows. Huge creatures and she can’t help but be shocked by them. Pandora never gave a thought to farm animals, just assumed they were all eaten by the dead.

The beast ambles up to her chewing a strand of grass hanging from its mouth. Hand stretched out she touches its head just a whisper of a touch, the big black and white beauty doesn’t seem to notice her at all. There is something so surreal about it, it’s not normal. Does it even now the world is different now? It goes on with its life, just like always no idea anything around them is different.

“Pan?”

She knows the sound of his voice anywhere, and inside something in her chest is broken. She turns with caution because this might be a trick of the drugs. Not that she hadn’t hallucinations before, she has. When Pandora has her back to the cow Daryl is standing there plain as day. It makes little sense to see him here outside, to have him allowed to be close to her. But it doesn’t matter, and she doesn’t have the energy to wonder.

“Daryl.” She breathes the word as she closes the gap between them. Daryl doesn’t miss a beat arms outstretched to hold her. Pandora sinks into him a small broken sob escaping her lips.

He holds her tighter, she can almost feel her bones grinding together. It doesn’t matter though this is the best she has felt in days. Her mind is hazy, but it doesn’t matter because he’s holding her.

“I love you.” Pandora whispers lips pressed to his neck.

“Ah love you too. Ya did it Pandora, yah do what he says.”

She doesn’t know what to say to that. He sees it then or heard it maybe Dwight told him what happened. Maybe Daryl knows now she is a good girl, a good little pet.

“I can’t go back in the dark Daryl.”

“No, yah stay out of there it’s ok. I know.”

Daryl knows, he knows the ins and out of the process of her getting better. That confirmation that ok to do whatever she needs to do to make it through this, eases the knot tied tight in her gut.

“Oh no no no.” It’s Negan’s voice booming behind her.

There isn’t even a moment for her to process him behind her. But her body is moving already racing to the fear he induces inside her. Pandora shoots out of Daryl’s arms so fast she is stumbling backwards tripping over her own feet on the uneven ground. Negan has her his grip warm and solid on her upper arms keeping her standing. Turning her head to the side she is meet with Negan’s grin. He isn’t angry or if he is there is no sign on it on his face, instead he is smiling at her looking genuinely amused.   

She is already crying tears staining her cheeks. “I’m sorry Negan, don’t hurt him.” The sun is too bright behind him blocking out his expression. Pandora can’t see him, can’t read his expression in the glaring light. Her fingers reach out gripping his jacket. “Please.”

“Hey, hey, come on now Princess don’t do that.” Negan reaches out wrapping an arm around her shoulders pulling her into a tight hug.  

She can’t move can breath, her brain trips over herself at the contact. He’s solid though, frame warm heat radiating outwards into her. It reminds her of where she is, keeps her grounded keeps her from slipping too far into panic. Negan shouldn’t be able to help her like this. Her stomach twists at the sense of comfort she feels, guilt makes her sick. Her body doesn’t know the different though it relaxes in his hold, tension melting away.

“Now Daryl look at what you did to poor Pandora here, she’s been doing so good.” His hand rubs circles on her back.

It makes her feel sick how her body responds to him. How does Negan do that, he knows her. He is too good at watching her.

“Now Daryl my boy, this is a special lady you got here let me tell you. And you can see her whenever you want as soon as you answer my question.”

There are more voices around her she’s sure. But she can’t focus. It’s a slow downward descent into for that she knows is the drugs. They peek in her system taking her away from the present moment.

Before she realizes, she’s moving. Or being moved. She isn’t telling her body anything but Negan is doing all the movement for her. Ushering her gently up into the back of a black truck. He is already inside the truck, sitting in the middles seat hands reaching out for her.

“Here you go now Princess watch your step.” Negan warns her but doesn’t let her do it herself, instead he lifts her into the seat. Cold leather creaks under her hands when he sets her down.

Pandora falls asleep when they move letting the white noise of the cars and the vibration under her take her away. It’s easy to give into the drugs, to let them sweep her away like water. She used to rage against them, hates she needs them for anything usually, but now she would rather be high.

When she wakes, it’s because they have stopped. Groggy Pandora blinks a few times rubbing the heels of her hands over her eyes. The homes of Alexandria come into focus around her. They are already inside the walls, a long line of vehicles lines up along the outer wall. She’s late to the party she realizes, Negan and his men are already out spreading out around the front gate.

The sun is bright outside the truck, there isn’t a cloud in the shy to block its rays. It in sharp contrast to how cold she feels inside, to the cold of icy dread curling in her stomach. There is a bone-deep chill that comes from being this high, can’t have all the positive without some negative.

Her side door opens too quick for her to catch herself, she comes spilling out of the truck. Negan is there though catching her, hands tight on her upper arms.

“There we go Princess.” Its Negan’s voice, he shifts his hands from her arms one arm going around her waist. Somewhere she knows this should bother her. But it doesn’t, not now. “Rick was so kind to remind me I’m late in paying him a little visit. I wanted to show him why.”

Blinking Pandora reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear before swinging her gaze to Rick. He’s watching her, something twisted on his face.

“Why was I so busy Princess?” Negan prompts her again. He wants her to answer. That takes a second too for her to find the words in her head.

“I wasn’t being good.” She answers, words thick and heavy on her tongue. Even to her own ears her voice is hallow. “I had to learn to be good first.”

The laughter from him is booming, it shakes her bones and echoes in the surrounding silence. Rick doesn’t speak only stares at her eyes wet with tears. There is a sound somewhere behind Rick and Pandora glances to find it. Her eyes meet Rosita standing stiff arms crossed. The other woman stares at Pandora open mouthed and horrified. She doesn't care about the other woman's feelings, the way she looks at her. Pandora is doing what she does best, living. She knows this is the only way she stays out of the darkness; the only way Daryl is safe.  

Negan moves forward, steps further into what used to be her home. There should be more feeling here, more rage at this monster being here. Pandora feels nothing, the long-held tension in her muscles is gone leaving a feather lightness.

“Hot diggy dog this place is magnificent! An embarrassment of riches as they say. Yes, sir, I do believe you gonna have plenty to offer.”

Negan walks forward not far a few steps or so. Pandora isn’t sure what to do next, so she turns to glance at the people behind her. Negan’s men stand still all at attention, all waiting in silence for an instruction. She is doing the same she thinks, standing and waiting.

‘Because I’m his now, I’m his people.’

Rick walks past her then head to Daryl behind her. She knows Daryl is there, can feel him like a phantom limb.  

“Daryl, hey.”

“No!” Negan turning back eyes sweeping her to glare at Rick. “Nope. He’s the help. You don’t talk to him, you don’t look at him, and I don’t make her chop anything off of him.”

Pandora blinks struggling through the heavy feeling in her brain, she realizes he is pointing a finger at her. She would be the one to hurt Daryl if it came to that. There isn’t many of her people standing at the gate but Rosita is still there. Pandora can almost feel the burning rage coming from her small frame.

Negan must feel something too because he turns and looks at her, “Same goes for everyone, same rules for the Princess.” There is a moment of silence and Pandora struggles to see Rosita’s face. “Right?”

Rosita doesn’t answer only turns and leaves arms still crossed tight over her chest. Pandora meets her eyes-only a for a second, that’s all she can stand under her rage. Rosita is mad at her, mad because she isn’t fighting, maybe. Mad because maybe Rosita thinks she should fight, but she doesn’t understand.

The tangle of her thoughts is hard to escape, but when the sound of Arat shouting for the men to get moving she jumps. Around her there is movement Negan’s men move around her heading towards the houses.

“They’re gonna search the houses a bit, keep the process movin’” Negan snaps his fingers and like the good girl she is Pandora steps up beside him. “So, you gonna show me around or not?”

For a few hard seconds there is silence and Pandora wonders if he is talking to her. So, she pulls her eyes from the ground and looks at him. Negan isn’t looking at her though, he is looking at Rick over his shoulder.

With his arm around her Negan turns, “Well?”

She wants to scream at Rick to tell him he has to do what he’s told because if he doesn’t nothing good will happen. She doesn’t need to though maybe he gets the message from her gave because the moment his eyes meet hers he is moving stepping in front of Negan and walking towards the homes.

Negan leads her with him, Pandora zones out not needing to listen to Rick explain her home. She stills think of it as home though, maybe till will always be home even if she never lives her again. Even if she never steps foot back in those gates without being at Negan’s side it still might feel like home.

It all looks different though, the sun doesn’t shine as bright. Doesn’t quite reach all the corner and or sidewalks. It’s different now, or is she different it’s hard to tell. A breeze picks up around her wind whispering in her ear as it pulls her hair free from behind her ears. Reaching out she tucks the stray locks back behind her ears, shifting her shoulders under Negan’s arm now draped over them.

“Where did you live Princess?” Negan is leaning in close to her, voice pitched low breath tickling her ear. It’s a stage whisper though, she knows Rick can still hear them.

The questions takes a few moments for her to process, looking up she tried to get her bearings. Turning to the right she looks down the street and points. “Down there, the last townhouse on the end of the street, number 14. I lived with Daryl”

Negan laughs, “What a good girl you are Pandora. Do you want anything” He tightens his hold on her shoulders just for a second.

Her eyes narrow for a second then turns her head to look up at him. It sounds like a trick to offer this to her. Not that it matters, she wants nothing, doesn’t even want to think about these men in her house looking through her things. Her life here is different she likes to pretend it on hold and that she will be back here, and when she is everything will be the same.

“No, I want it here when I get back.” She doesn’t think about how Negan will take her answer, she just know’s the answer. “I don’t want them inside my house.”

Laughter is her answer at first, and she jumps eyes widening in shock. He is an odd man twisted inside like only this world can do to someone. When he stops laughing, he turns his head to the right.

“Arat go make sure no one goes into the Princesses house, keep all her stuff there for later.”

They walk down a few more homes, never going to the street where she lived. She’s glad of that not sure there are enough drugs in her veins to be so close to something so normal. She couldn’t do it, not knowing Daryl walking silent behind them now.

“You see this? This is the kind of thing just tickles my balls. A little cooperation and everything is pleasant as punch.” His hand draws a circle on her shoulder, and under him she goes stiff. “You see, we really are reasonable people once you get to know us. Honest.” Negan’s stops at a cooler and flips it open and looks inside.

He let his arm drop as she said, “Princess get me a beer.”

Pandora doesn’t even think before she moves, only flips the lid open again and hands him a beer. Laughing he plucks it from her hand popping it open to drink.

“I fucking love this place.”

The surrounding streets are lined with people who live in Alexandria. She can feel their eyes on her as she moved. Judging the good little pet, she had become in such a short time. She had been broken so quickly, or maybe she was already a little broken to start.

“Negan” A man comes running from the building. Sweat dripping from his cropped black hair. “Somethin’ you might wanna see.”

He holds out a little video camera, Negan grins and grabs it flexing his fingers around it.

“Well, well well. What do we have here? I got my fingers cross for a little freaky-deaky.”

Pandora hears only the beginning of the video and she knows what it is. Knows they found the interview from when they all got there, and when she was getting better. She pictures herself in that couch, hardly getting and answers out before slipping into a panic. Sighing she walked away putting one, and a half homes between herself, Negan and the video recording.

As she walked, she sees Aaron and Eric on their porch. When she steps closer Aaron looks at her, he doesn’t look angry no it’s something else. Pity maybe, she can’t be sure but no anger. As she stares at him she believes what she sees in his face, believes he isn’t judging her. It's what she needs then, because Aaron knows he had seen her in the early days. When she was more drug than human.

She finds herself drawn to them, lowering herself onto the steps of their porch. Michael the man Negan has watching her, follows keeping a safe distance between them. Is he scared of her, she has done several things since arriving to stay with Negan. Maybe it’s how unstable she is that worries him, maybe it’s her proneness to violence that has Michael gripping the gun.

“What happened to that sick girl?” Maggie, Pandora shuts her eyes against the image of Maggie screaming. “That seemed like a hell of a stressful night for her. They way she was carrying on she married to number two right?”

Pandora tunes out the sound of his voice, trying instead to control the shaking. She doesn’t like where this is going, no doesn’t like it at all. Tightening her hands into fists she feels her nail biting into her skin.

“Care to pay your respects.”

No, not respects. The world around her disappeared into a void of darkness. Pandora can hear Maggie now screaming and crying for Glenn in the darkness. She dreamed that moment repeatedly behind closed lids.

“Holy crap you are creepy as shit. Sneaking up on me wear that collar with that freaky ass smile.”

“My apologies I am Father Gabriel.”

“She didn’t make it?”

No, no no. her head is roaring it blocks out wherever sounds come next. But Negan snaps for her and she is walking for a few more steps following the group until her body gives up. She falls to her knees, gasping for breath. There isn’t enough drugs left in her veins for this, for her to get up knees in soft dirt and clean her face stained with tears.

Footsteps move away from her but she remains head presses to the soft ground.  The world is not there anymore, Pandora is gone tumbling down a hole too deep.

“Get up.” A voice behind her snaps, the barrel of a gun knocks her in the shoulder. She can’t bring herself to move still thought, still numb from before.

“Negan?!” It’s a call and a question. Hs scared because maybe she is losing her mind. Wouldn’t that be horrible for Negan to lose his new pet to madness like this. “Get up!” He jabbed her harder this time slipping up to find the spot where the arrow found its home inside her.

Pain shoots like a lightening bolt inside her, it lights her brain for a moment clearing the darkness. Pandora becomes nothing but rage then. Launching herself from the ground she lunges at him, fingers hooked into claws aiming for his face.

When she lands on him Michaels first reaction is to squeeze the trigger of the gun, sending a bullet into the ground at her feet. Pandora doesn’t flinch wrapping her legs around his middle clamping down. She goes for his eyes tearing a bloody ribbon down the side of his face.

“What the fuck!” He growls trying to shove her off of him. It doesn't work she only holds on tighter, feeling his bones grind between her tights.

His hand shoots out wrapping itself around her throat. He doesn’t waste any time only tightens him hold cutting off her air. The edges of her vision fades for a second, but still she struggles. She drops her hands from his face than feeling the wet skin under her nails, she tries to claw at her hands now. Dragging her nails on his skin as he tightens his grip on her windpipe.

 

“GET YOUR FUCKING HANDS OFF HER.” Negan roars from somewhere behind her she can’t turn her head to see it.

Michael flaunters just for a second and in that moment Pandora sends her open palm into his nose. There is a crunch under her palm, blood shoots from his nose covering his face and spraying her in the progress.

Suddenly she’s on the floor hitting the ground hard. The impact jolts the rage and adrenaline out of her, leaving her crumpled on the floor, as gasping sobbing mess. The world comes back into focus around her, there is shouting swearing the sound of a struggle somewhere behind her.

There are hands on her face titling it upwards. Pandora squeezes her eyes shut, unable to meet to gaze of whoever is touching her.

“Pandora open those pretty eyes for me.”

His voice is soft as soft as Negan’s voice can get, anyway. Under that softness there is command though, so she complies opening her eyes to look at him.

“There we go.” Negan stares at her, silent for a few seconds. Her eyes scan his face through the tears. There is no rage there, maybe just maybe she can even see concern. “What happened Princess?”

“I, I, I, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Her brain is a jumble of words and images, it’s hard to shift through. “Please, please, please.”

She’s begging for what she doesn’t know but she’s begging. Her hand reached out clinging to the material of his jacket with desperate strength.

“I ain’t mad at you Princess, Michael poked the bear, he deserved it.”

That makes little sense to her, so it can’t be right. So, she keeps begging keeps crying until she is sure there isn’t any air in her lungs.

“Princess take a breath now, it’s all right.” Negan tries to calm her. His hands on her shoulders tighten their grip a fraction.

“I, I, I didn’t mean to hit him.” Pandora gasps her voice choked sobs. “Maggie, it’s my fault. It’s my fault, my fault.”

She rocks back slightly one hand gripping her wrist rubbing angrily at the skin.  Negan tries to stop her, she only screams shoving his hands away. Her nails drag against her skin leaving red lines. She doesn’t see him anymore. She’s in the woods now hands in her body tearing at her clothes hungry for her skin. Her arm swings out connecting with something hard a grunt echoing around her.

“God fucking damn it, get her something!”

There is some movement behind her maybe, but she can’t see. Pandora isn’t there she’s somewhere else somewhere darker. There are still hands on her, she is still screaming.

“Shh, now Princess it’s gonna be ok.”

“We use this sometimes when it’s bad.”

There is the all too familiar pin prick in her arm, then the fight is gone and the panic is gone, and she’s slipping forward into Negan’s waiting arms.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry… I’m sor….” She doesn’t get the last one out before she slips into the darkness.

Pandora dreams hard, dreams of the line up, of kneeling in the dirt listening to Maggie scream. Now all she hears is Maggie screaming, the sound of her calling for her dead husband fills her head.

She sees nothing else, to her left and to her right is empty. The darkness is heavy her pressing down around her. It blocks out all light leaving her staring into nothing. She hears them though her group, a tangled mixed of screaming, crying and Daryl shouting for Negan not to touch her.

It different this time kneeling in the dirt Negan appears. A light behind him outlines his frame as he reaches out to touch her face. His voice is soft reassuring. He whispers to her, telling her to breath. This isn’t the Negan she knows, this is a different man. The Negan in her dreams smiles at her whisper sweet things to her, telling her it will be ok.

Leaning down in the dirt he touches her face, cupping her gently. “I take care of you remember Princess?”

Negan is gone disappearing like smoke away into the darkness. Pandora is alone now leaning down and presses her forehead to the cold damp earth to cry.

Sunlight cuts through the glass of the window, bright shafts cutting into her closed lids. She tightens her eyes shut again and counts to ten before opening them. Pandora is laying across the front seat of the truck she came in. Laying on her side she stretches her fingers out, feeling the warmed leather under her. She can't see through the windows laying like this, only able to look at the back to the leather seats she faces.

The window must be open, a breeze tickled he hair on the back of her neck and carries a muffled conversation in it.

“Ah wanted to ask now that you know we can follow the rules,"

“Yes?”

“Id like to ask if Daryl and Pandora can stay.”

“Not happening, especially not with the Princess. But maybe Daryl can plead his case, maybe Daryl can sway me.”

At sound of Daryl’s name, she feels a tug in her chest. An invisible string she pictures being attached to them both pulls her upwards. Her body moves slow, the world swims in her vision as she pulls her head up. Only when she presses her forehead to the cold glass does the world stop spinning. In the glass she catches her own reflection brown eyes searching for Daryl. She finds him standing silent behind Negan, almost too fast for her to see his gaze flicks up to her then it’s back on the ground.  

“Daryl?” There is a pause followed by Negan laughing to himself. “Well you tried. I think him and the Princess are a package deal here Rick.”

Pandora shuts her eyes then screwing them tight against the tears collecting behind her lids. She would do the same thing she tells herself, she would not leave him given the option. Negan would never ask her though. If he did, she would stay with Negan, stay to make sure Daryl is ok.

It is a losing battle against the tears they stream down her face in wet tracks. Outside movement floats towards her, but the urge to watch is gone replaced by a gaping sense of loss.  It aches, it makes her want to curl back into herself and waste away. Whatever drugs he gave her are still swimming in her veins, they allow her to waste so much time in what feels like the blink of a second.

The next sound she hears is a light tap in the window where her head is still resting. Her eyes flicker open to come face to face with Negan grinning at her.

“Watch out there Princess.”

Her eyes track his movements, Negan doesn't open the door she leaning on instead he goes around to the other side. Opening the driver side door he slides inside the truck leaving only inches of space between them. Pandora’s body doesn’t react to him, no tightness of muscles no turning in her stomach. She guesses somewhere drugs are still swimming in her veins.

Someone else slides into the driver’s seat and they are off. Despite herself Pandora turns her gaze to the window again and watching Rick as they drive off. He catches her gaze for only a second and something twists in his face, it’s too broken and she needs to look away not ready to see that.

Hands move some heavy strands of hair from her face. Pandora turns her head to the side, Negan curls a strand of hair in his fingers.

“You were good today Princess.” Negan mutters letting the hair drop from his fingers. He moves his hand then letting it come to rest on her thigh. “I know it was hard for you and you behaved so well.”

She doesn’t answer can seem to think past his hand resting on her leg. Head snapping down she fixates on where he is touching her. She doesn’t move though knows that she needs to be good to stay out of the box. There is still a haze in the around her as if she is watching the world through a thin film.

“Maybe I’ll let you have a treat tomorrow. What do you think?”

There is a moment of silence and his hands squeezes her tight lightly. That brings her back to the present moment keeps her from floating too far away.

“That would be nice.” Pandora whispered. Her eyes stayed down cast refusing to rise to meet him.

“I’m proud of you Princess, you’ve learned so well.”

He’s stops then spending the rest of the ride in silence.

Notes:

Well? what did you all think? Please tell me what you think. I love feedback. Be nice to me please! I'm Beta-less and will be from now on I think!

Chapter 38: Good Girl

Notes:

I promise this story is not forgotten! I have spent so much time trying to find a Beta reader that I finally gave up. I tried to edit the best I could but any mistakes are all mine. I have to say it is breaking my heart to be so mean to our little Pandora, but here we are anyway!

Negan leads her to her room in silence, people drop to their knees as they pass.  Her head is a mess, a swirl of thoughts and emotions she doesn ’ t have the strength to sort them out. As they walk Negan slips closer to her draping his arm over her shoulder. Pandora doesn"t speak only allows the contact to trigger a sag in her bones. She melts into him for a moment. it's not like it is with Daryl, but a touch ground her keeps her here in this moment. Negan takes her silence for consent and pulls her closer.

“You were such a good girl today Princess.” His whispers it in her ear, tickles her hair with his breath. “You were so damn good.”

She doesn't answer and they lapse back into silence, thick and stifling. Pandora behaved so well and no one got hurt. She did everything they told her and everyone she loves stayed safe. It's easy to keep them safe, she doesn't have much else to offer so she can do this for them.

Back in her room her body feels heavy, and the bed calls to her with its sweet softness. Stepping forward, she lets her feet carry her towards the bed. Her fingers brush the soft covers.

“You want to sleep Princess?”

Blinking hard she turns only to see Negan standing over her. His face has the hard lines removed he reaches out for her fingers stroking her chin. She can ’ t feel his skin he is wearing the leather gloves, but she can feel the heat of him through the material.

She can't answer him only nods her head hoping he sees it. He does, and she is surprised the tenderness he uses to help her undress. He takes her boots first placing them next the bed, the skirt is next followed by the second top. Leaving her in nothing but tight and a tank top. Despite the weariness in her bones she doesn ’ t miss the way his eyes skim over her, or the spark of hunger she sees in them.

That has her moving on her own, slipping her frame under the sheets to escape his gaze. Glancing up she finds Negan still watching her an unreadable look spreading across his face.

“Sleep tight Princess.”

He's gone then shutting the door behind him all without making a sound. In the darkness her mind wanders, she misses home, misses Daryl. Yet she can ’ t shake something deep inside her that seems rested here, calm. It hard to understand, and it hurts her head to think about it.  Negan is nice to her, when she ’s good , and now she ’ s always good.

 

Waking happens with Pandora gasping for breath and shaking. She ’ s not screaming but her chest heaves in shuddering gasping breaths. Sheets are tangled around her leg, fabric pulled tight like gripping fingers. Gasping she rips them off leaving them pulled down around her waist.

In the darkness of her room the silence is only broken by the sound of her ragged breathing. A long ago memory comes back to her, she ’ s with Daryl and she is counting as she breathes. In, one, two, three, four, out one, two, three, four. It takes a few times, she imagines it Daryl sitting next to her hands held tight in his own helping her calm down. It ’ s easy to push it away though, easy to forget it hurts less this way.

Outside the window the sky is lightning, stars being chased away by sunlight. The grey is being replaced by hues of pink and purple. The sky is clear and she can see for miles and miles. down the highway filled with empty cars. It seems so terrible that something as beautiful as this sunrise can exist when the world is so ugly.

Sleep won ’ t come back to her, Pandora has done this dance before and she knows. She doesn ’ t have the urge to waste away anymore. Instead she wants to move wants to be a person again, instead of a shaking mass of drugs and tears.

“Shower.” She tells herself out loud. Lifting the blankets off she feels the cold chill of the air against her legs. Some time in the night her tights had rolled up to her knees. Pandora wonders if she was screaming, she must have been if the state of her clothes is any clue.

Pandora makes her way to the shower, at a pace slower than she would have liked. This time with the door shut she strips and examines herself. Thin black string holds her wound closed. She must be do for an appointment with the doctor here soon to have them removed. Sighing she allows her fingers to trail over the wound. Her ribs stick out from under caramel skin, all hard sharp edges. There isn ’ t a single inch of extra fat anywhere she touches. Pandora is nothing more than a skeleton now, a thin layer of muscle still visible under the skin.

There still isn ’ t a mirror in the bathroom, she can ’ t remember the last time she saw her own face in one. If her body is any clue her face can’ t be much better. Before all of this she was doing better working hard gaining weight, all her hard work has vanished in her time within these walls.

In the shower she turns the water up as hot as it goes. It ’ s warmer than the last time she was in here. It ’ s relaxing for once. The warm water melts the tension in the muscles. In the glass of the shower she sees her own reflection. It ’ s as frightening as she thought. Her face seems sunken the round shape she had before she came here is gone . Leaving only sharp angled cheekbones and dark under eye circles. Pandora finishes without looking at herself again.

In the room she stands in front of the closet finger gripping the towel against her chest. The moment she opens the door though some tension melts away. Everything inside is different. The closet is now full of pants, legging, jeans there isn't a skirt in sight. The tops are different too, t-shirts, sweaters, long sleeves enough for her to layer hide her body under.

Dressed in dark jeans and a dark blue sweater her stomach growls, reminding her she isn ’ t a skeleton after all . It ’ s part of the problem this getting lost in her own head forgetting to eat. It is getting better she is more aware these days because she has to do. Because despite everything it ’ s still dangerous here.

Pandora isn't even sure there is anything to eat in here. Sighing she turns and explored the kitchen something she should have done before now, anyway. When she opens the cupboard, there is an assortment of dried food. Some oatmeal, cereal, soup cans, a few boxes of Mac and cheese.

She goes for the oatmeal, but has to read the package on how to make it. Daryl always cooked for her or Carol,  housekeeping was not her strongest suit. Too lost in her own head half the time to remember to eat let alone to cook something.

 

Once it's all said and done, she finds herself back in the high-backed chair at the window taking in the sanctuary waking up for the day. Somewhere below her men mulled about checking cars.  Turning to the right she tried to track movement feeling to stitches tug. Gritting her teeth against the discomfort she heads for the door. At first her knock is nothing more than a tap, the second time her knuckles wrap harder. Leaning back she waited the door swung open a bald man in the other side

“What?”

“I, I, I need to see the doctor.”

The man stared down at her glaring. He doesn ’ t give her an answer only shuts the door in her face hard enough she feels the vibration in her bones. From her side of the door she could hear a muttered conversation. She can't make out the words but hears the lulls of a voices .

Pandora steps back a few steps putting space between her and door. Her arms snake around her middle squeezing with a firm pressure.  It makes the stitches at her side pull at her skin tugging at where the skin has already fused together. Working her fingers under her shirt she rubs the string holding her skin together. It's smooth where it's exposed and the cut feels smooth the trama it endured has vanished.  

“Ok let ’ s go.” The bald man reached out for her, meaty hand closing on her upper arm. He makes the move to pull her towards him. He had appeared there, no sound to warn her. She had gotten lost again and hadn ’ t even heard him come in.

Pandora ’ s body goes into flight mode the second he touches her. Fireworks go off in her brain, jerking her arm free she stumbles backwards away from him.

“What the fuck, I said let's go.”

She only stars at him, taking steps backwards back into her room. This isn't right when she needs to go somewhere Negan comes to get her. She is safe with him, she could not say the same for his men.

“No, no, no,” She stammered. “ You have to get Negan.”

The bald man steps in closer to her room, “He ’ s too busy to baby sit some crazy bitch.” His tone is harsh hand reaching out again for her.

She doesn't allow it though, side stepping his outstretched hand she skirts past him. The door is wide open and for whatever reason she thinks this is a good idea, leaving the room. The full thought process of what might happen when Pandora steps past the threshold is lost when she moves.

Dancing past the bald man she is out the door in a flash, behind her she hears shouts and cursing. Once in the hall there is another man rushing towards her, logical thought is now replaced by panic. The hall in front of her room is open to below. Her hands grip the railing and before she can think she is lowering herself onto the lower level.

There is more force behind her movement when she jumps over the railing, and the moment her feet hit the ground tiny lightning bolts of pain shoot up her legs. This hallway looks just like the one she had left. There is no defining features to mark it, a lightning bolt strikes her brain she has no idea where she's going.

“Princess?” The voice should make her flinch. It should induce fear. Instead the tension she was carrying in her shoulders melts, and she feels sick over it. He keeps her safe though, he promised he would. “What are you doing out here?”

Turning to face Negan she closes the distance in a few quick steps. Pandora stands frozen in front of him, watching him uncross his arms from his chest. Behind her the doors to the stairs fling open two men come spilling out swearing and screaming.

“What happened?” Negan has stopped looking at her and is staring at the men who just came stumbling into the hallway. He turns back to her then, flicking his fingers for her to come closer. She does as he tells her, and when he puts an arm around her, she doesn't go stiff. Something else happens, he ’ s warm and her muscles sag under his weight.

The bald man is the one step up, hand resting in his gun. “She said she wanted to go to the Doctor. So I opened the door to take her, and she lost her shit. I went to grab her, and she ran.”

Negan's fingers drum against her arm, the feeling rattles her bones.  He looks down at her then back to the man standing in front of them .

“Well now what's the rule with her fuckhead?” He sneers now, fingers tightening his hold on her.

“Well, well not to touch her but ... but.”

“Then why did you fucking touch her?” Negan's shout thunders around her. But that rage he summoned all for her is comforting. It's warm and real, and she leans into him.

Pandora kept her head down, eyes locked to the floor. There is silence though and for a second she thinks they are waiting for her to speak her eyes snap up to them. The men only glare at her from their lowered heads.

“I, I, I.” The man can't answer he only bows his head lower.

“Get the fuck out of my sight.”

The men rush away then footsteps getting softer.

“Come on now Princess, let ’ s go to the doctor.”

The light in medical are too bright. When she's laying there on her back the lights shine too bright in her eyes. She screws her eyes shut more aware now if the doctors hands on her. She doesn't quite remember getting here. No, she remembers the hallway, remembers Negan shouting at the men who tried to touch her, then just here.

“This will numb the area.”  The doctors voice snaps her back to the present moment. Pandora gets the feeling he isn't talking to her though, maybe this is a show for Negan.

The spray is cold making her go stiff for a second, a tingling spreads then she feels nothing. She panics turning her head until she is watching him removing the stitches. He cuts and tugs out the little bits of string.

“It will scar.” The doctor mutters stripping off his gloves. He looks up at Negan then after his eyes do one more sweep of her. Pandora lays there still, hands flexing into fists. She knows how to be good , this is a chance to show him.

“She ’ s too skinny.” He mutters eyes skimming over her. Then he is turning away from her, she doesn't turn her head but hears him shifting around somewhere behind her.

when he is in her field of vision again, there is a blue and white cardboard box in his hands. She can ’ t quite make out what it says.

“Protein shakes drink one every day.” He tells her, but he tells Negan too. One of his man step forward and take the shakes in his arms. The Doctor add two bottles of pills, one for everyday , one for when it gets rough.  The man takes those too, then disappears toward her room.

“Come on Pandora.” Negan reaches for her. Helps her up from the bed. He doesn't stop touching her, always a hand somewhere an arm over her. She used to it now, almost feels different when he isn't touching her.

Negan ’ s rests on the small of back, leading her down the hall. A door opened, and she is meet with steps going up, and up and up and up and up. She losses count of how many times stairs they take then the air changes cool and crisp on her skin.

Pandora stops sucking in a cold breath of fresh air, it ’ s so perfect its overwhelming tears prickle her vision. She doesn't dare look up, keeps her eyes down on the ground. The last time he brought her outside it was to watch his men beat Daryl. She wouldn't make she same mistakes twice. Her heart hammers against her rib cage threatening to burst out onto the floor.

“Come ’ re sit down.” Negan ’ s voice in in her ear, his hands are on her guiding her body her move with him. Before she knows it he is lowering her, and she ’ s being got by the feeling of softness. “Sit here with Tanya Princess. Tanya keep her with you. I ’ ll come back later.”

Pandora feels the surface shift beside her, she looks up just in time to watch Negan leave. Beside her is a young woman in a black dress, black hair pulled back away from her face. The women doesn’ t speak to her, so Pandora looks away.

She takes a moment to see where Negan left her. They are on the roof, above her head is a network for glass panels. They don ’ t stop at the roof but continue down to make up the walls. It's a huge greenhouse. Behind her there is a mini garden, planters lined up on the walls. Someone is working back there she can't see them but hears the rustle of clothes as they move.

She sits with the other women on plush sofas. This area made to look like a backyard patio. With chairs small tables, a few bookshelves. It's nice. Pandora doesn't mind sitting here away from the noise of the world. It's warmer here to sun streaming in through the tall high windows.

“I ’ m Tanya.” The woman announces turning her head in Pandora's direction, covering her eyes from the rays of the sun.

Pandora doesn't hide her face she titles it upward letting her skin soak it up while she can. There is a few seconds of silence that pass between them before she can answer.

“Pandora.”

“You from the new place right? You came with that guy.”

“Came?” Pandora didn't understand why she used that word came, she didn't come here not by choice. The word roles off the girls tongue and Pandora can see the curiosity sparking in her eyes. “They took me.”

Tanya sits up hand lowered from her eyes with a careful control. She is staring at Pandora form under her bangs, she can feel the heat of her eyes.

“No. That's not how it happens you choose to be here. Negan doesn’t want anyone here who doesn ’ t want to be here.”

“I didn't choose anything , he took me, me and my….” she can't finish the sentence because boyfriend is not the word she thinks fits. It ’ s too plain to simple to explain that he is her entire world.  So she says nothing just lets the end of the sentence hang there between them.

“It ’ s too hot let ’ s go.” Tanya stands not daring to meet her eyes but heads for the door it take them back inside. Her hands smooth down the sides of her dress as she saunters to the door.

Pandora pictures herself screaming at Tanya to fuck off. Refusing to leave  this sun lit mini paradise. She doesn't though, no instead she stands and follows the shorter women back inside. Because she's trying to be good , because good girls stay out of the box.

This time Pandora watches makes notes of where they turn, which doors they open, who is where. She almost doesn't blink as she tries to commit everything to memory. Just in case, she tells herself, it just in case. They go to the floor with her room but walk down the hallway more.

They walk past her door down the hallway. There is a door with a man standing in front of it . He opened it for them and when they step through, there are only more doors. These doors are different though they are sleek painted wood. To her right there is a set of double doors open the hallway, Tanya turns to enter.

The room she enters is the picture of luxury. Pandora knows this room must belong to Negan's wives, no one else here lived like this.  Plush sofas and high backs chairs fill the room.

Thick curtains cover the walls, chandeliers hang from the ceiling all the little light bulbs shaped to look like candle flames. They have the biggest windows here she had seen so far, they paint the glass over and dirty but it still offers more light than anywhere Pandora has seen anywhere else. They are half covered though it thick coloured drapes.

Her eyes drift around again trying to take in everything. She doesn't understand this room, this luxury is out of place here at the end of the world.

“What is she doing here?” Pandora turned to find the source of the voice.

On one of the sofa ’ s Sherry sits beside a crying blond girl. The other girl looks young early 20 ’ s. The younger girl is half curled into herself, tears streaming down her face. They aren’ t speaking, not that the tiny blond girl could talk with how hard she was crying.

“Negan ’ s making me babysit his new pet.” Tanya speaks from the bar two glasses in front of her and vodka in her hand.

“Her names Pandora.” Sherry looks to Pandora.

A tremble makes it home in her bones now, she isn't sure about these women, his wives. What do they think of her? Do they think like Tanya wonder why she chose to be here. Why are they here?

“Here Pan-dor-a. ” Tanya draws her name out putting emphasis on each syllable.  

Pandora moves to the bar taking the glass in her hands. It's good to have something to hold on to something to stop the shaking.

In two gulps it was gone , a fire burning in her belly and a lightness in her limbs. Some tension uncoils in her gut, burned away by the fire.

There was a noise behind her then the shifting of feet. Pandora turns her head to find the source of the sound. Negan stands in the doorway with someone beside him. It takes a second for her register their new guest, but when she blinks Carls face comes into focus and the pain in her chest is shattering.

Pandora ’ s shoulders hunch her body trying to curl into itself. What is he doing here, he should be home safe behind the walls. Carl shouldn't be here, it's not safe for him here. Carl doesn know the rules.

 

“Ladies! Don ’ t mind the kid.” Negan laughs then turns to Carl muttering something.  

She watches horrified as Negan whispers something to Carl, she can't make it out. Tanya comes back walking in front of her, there is sound of clinking glass then she looked down.

“Looks like you going to need this.”

The drink Tanya pour in her cup is more pink than red this time and smells more like vodka than cranberries. It doesn't stop Pandora though she downs the drink in two sips again.

Tanya chuckles a low small thing removing the now empty glass form her hand leaving again. “Atta girl.” The other women muttered under her breath as she leaves.

There is still a pit in her chest, a wide gaping hole of fear. Her eyes shoot up to Carl, he ’ s watching her. Her mouth opens, then closes, no sounds comes out she gasps like a fish out of water.

“Can I talk to you for a minute, dear wife?”

Pandora isn't sure which of the women in the room he is talking too until she hears shuffling to her right. Sherry who is still beside the crying woman gets up and heads for Negan.

Her head is spinning now, too much drinking not enough food in her stomach.

“Pandora?”

Her head snap up meeting Carl's gaze. There is something in his face, he wants to say more she can tell. She has a million questions bumping and flying in her brain, too fast to pin down. It doesn't matter though there isn't enough time, and that not something she should do. No she doesn ’ t speak to him, she remembers that from before, from Alexandra when no one could speak to her.

So instead she lowers her eyes ignores the pain that flashes across his face as she does so. It's the right thing, she doesn't want to go back in the box, talking to Carl might put her back in the box.

“Pandora?” Carl calls her again, his voice more pained than the first time.

“Give it up kid, she ’ s not gonna talk unless she gets permission.”

There is a silence around her now, save for only the hushed conversation at the bar. Pandora doesn't dare look up again, can't bring herself to face Carl. This new Pandora isn ’ t the one she wants him to see not now.

There are heavy foot falls coming towards her now, she goes stiff. Negan stops in front of her, filling her field of vision with his lower half.

“Well now Princess enjoying your time with the girls?” He kneels down in front of her fingers feather light on her chin. That's how he gets her to look up, it's how he always gets her to look.

“It ’ s nice, thank you for letting me come here.”

Negan laughs loud and boisterous letting his hand fall from her face. “That is a damn fine answer Princess. You can talk to the kid of you want.”

Negan turns away from her then she looks up watching him head for the crying girl. She doesn't care about their conversation instead she turns to Carl who stands now with a beer in hand. The sight of him bring tears to her eyes until he is a figure swimming in water.

He moves to her taking the seat on the sofa, he leaves a space between them. Pandora isn't having it through, the vodka numbs everything and she needs to feel something. So she reached out fingers a vice like grip on him. Carl only looks down at their intertwined fingers not speaking.

“I ’ m ok.” She whispers.

“You not ok Pandora.” Carl ’ s voice is tight, laced with rage. “He ’ s keeping you here, like your some kind of pet.”

Pandora blinks back her tears, he doesn't understand he can ’ t he hasn't been here.

“It ’ s fine, I promise.” She can explain everything to him there isn't enough time to make him see.

“Pandora ... I…”

“Stop, please.” She pulls her hand away from his, but Carl doesn ’ t let her. He only holds her tighter, and that has the resolve crumbling away. Pandora leans into him resting her head on his shoulder. Alcohol makes her anxiety melt away, shifts her perspective on the world.

There is more movement a head of her near the middle of the room, maybe. But she doesn look up keeps her eyes down on her and Carl's intertwined fingers.

“Carl will you get that tray for me?”

Pandora ’ s eyes snapped up, Daryl and Dwight stood in the open doorway. her heart stops when she sees him standing there a tray of food in his hands. Her frame jerks for a second trying to get closer to him. But she has enough sense to hold herself still against the urge.

Carl steps up to take the tray she watches him take it to the tray and put in on the table in front of her.  She reached out taking something, a bit of cheese to roll in her fingers. He takes his spot back beside her, letting her lean on him again.

“Why do you got them here?” Daryl is asking Negan she is sure, but when she looks up, she finds him staring at her. She pales under his gaze shifting her eyes away.

“Whoa! What we talk about when you ’ re not here is none of your business.” Negan leans back glancing at Sherry for a second. “Do not make me put this tooth book into the only eye he has.” Negan flicks to toothpick away leaning back. “You go with Dwight, he ’ ll get you a mop. Dwighty boy fire up that furnace. I ’ ll be down in a few. Time for a little deja view. Come on, kid.”

 

Carl detaches himself from her leaving her saging into the space he left. She looks up catching them leaving the room. Daryl shift his gaze from them to her sitting almost curled into herself. They stare at each other for a few long seconds, she feels herself leaning into him. Before she gets too close Dwight is behind him pulling him away by the back of his shirt.

She lunges for him as Dwight turns him to head out of the room. Someone is behind her though a hand gripping her shirt, pulling her back to standing up right.

“Control yourself.” Tanya whispered her voice tight with anger. “You will make the rest of us look bad.”

Pandora doesn ’ t understand but she can move, and it's too late. The doorway is empty now. Tanya lets her go leaving Pandora standing in the middle of the room holding her chest. The woman go back to ignoring her. Her head swims, and thoughts don ’ t seem to make sense. She wants to be away from here, away from these women with their little black dresses. She sees herself so easily here, and it frightening. How she breaks and bends.

Spinning on her heels she heads for the open doorway, at the end of the hallway there is the steel door she came in from. The distance is closed in a few short steps, but she just stands there for a second staring.  Her left hand lays flat of the cold steel for a second until curling into a fist and knocking.

The door is yanked up before she can even catch her breath.

A bald man is looking at her eyes narrowed. “What?”

“I want to go back to my room.”

The bald man rolls his eyes they have done this dance before the two of them . This time he doesn't hesitate only opens the door and stands back for her to step outside.

“Let's go then.”

The walk to her room is short and spent all in silence, even when they get to her door they don't speak only nod at each other before she steps inside. 

Notes:

Well?!?! Tell me what you think? Seriously I love to hear from you guys! Expect an update soon! Promise.

Chapter 39: Gone

Notes:

So can I just say how much I try and edit these for you guys? Sometimes my grammar sucks that's just my brain, but nevertheless here I am trying to give you guys the best.

I must warn you there is heartbreak to come, I am not the best at happy. You have been warned.

The next thing Pandora remembers is waking up. The sun is high and bright in her room cutting through the darkness behind her eyes. Light makes her see shadows and colours behind her eyes; she lays there eyes still closed letting the changing colours shift and move. It time to wake up, and even if everything screams at her to stay in bed, she still pulls herself up. She doesn't remember getting in bed, remembers nothing after stepping into her room. But things happened after that. Her clothes are different, hair a thick mess from being damp, she isn't hungry either.

 

She doesn't remember getting here or any of the steps before she got here, to the bed. She remembers leaving the room of all of Negan's wives then nothing being here in her bed. It didn't matter she thought pulling herself up into a sitting position. When the world doesn't move her shift around her, she stretches her arms above her head.

 

Pandora heads for the bathroom first, spends a few quiet moments staring at her own reflection. There is a mirror here again, a long panel of glass stretching over the sink. Her face does not reflect the same torture as before, deep worry lines fading away. Every day it’s easier , every time she wakes up it ’ s easy to remember how to act what to say, what to do. It shows somehow in her face, the acceptance. She thinks she should be in a full panic at this point rebelling against the ease to which she is accepting her new role. It doesn ’ t though, this is not a bad place, no one has tried to touch her, she is feed taken care of, and for the most part left alone. It could be worse, she has been in worse.

 

Pandora tries to wrestle a brush through her hair, but it dried thick overnight. A large curled halo around her face. It is a losing battle and instead of fight her hair she binds it snug in a braid that falls down her back. At the sink she fills her hands with lukewarm water and lets it run over her face in ribbons. There is a hand towel folded at her right using it to dry her face before leaving the bathroom.

 

She dresses in jeans and a light pink sweater; she layered her clothes, sports bra, tank top, and the sweater. Pandora will thank him for the new clothes she decides, it is a nice thing he did. He didn't have to, she would have worn whatever was in there having no other choice. But Negan is nice to her when she ’s good .

 

At the kitchen table she tugs her feet into the black lace up boots she has been given when a knock sounds on the door. There is a moment of panic but she knows, he isn't here. Negan doesn't knock, and she ’ s more panicked knowing it isn't him.

 

“Um come in.” She calls out leaning on the countertop to her left..

 

For a second there is nothing, and when the door finally opens Sherry is standing in the hallway arms full. One arm hold two bags, the other hand is balancing in what look like a casserole dish. For a while Sherry doesn't speak only unloads the bags putting everything away. The casserole dish sits on the off white counter of her tiny kitchen. Steam curls from the top, the smell of egg and cooked veggies filling the space of her room.

 

There is something different in the way she is carrying herself today, or maybe something is different in the way Pandora is looking at her. She knows now, knows why all these women choose this life. She didn ’ t choose her in the same way they did, but she made a choice . A choice to do what she is told , to fit herself into the mild Negan made for her. All the reason ’ s are different, she does it to stay sane to wait for an after, to keep Daryl safe, to keep her friends safe. Sherry ’ s reasons are different and it doesn ’ t matter what happened before, this is who they are now.

 

“I'm sorry for what I said.” Pandora mutters moving to a high-back chair near the window. She tucks her legs under herself arms hugging her sides. “I didn't understand, I do now.”

 

Sherry is frozen in the kitchen, one hand a white knuckled grip on the fridge handle.

 

“We both have people we do it for.” The other women finally mutters closing the fridge door. She moves around the tiny kitchen more though, taking out two plates a serving of the casserole. She appears beside Pandora handing her a plate and sinking into the empty chair.

 

Pandora takes a bite the moment Sherry put\s it in her hands. It's warm still, a wonderful egg casserole on a bed of potatoes. They eat in silence for a while until Sherry sets her plate down on her lap.

 

“It never really gets easier.” Sherry whispers from the kitchen her back still turned to Pandora.

“Never?”  Pandora asks tilting her head towards the other woman, her fingers curl around the fork.

 

Sherry meets her gaze eyes swimming in the film of tears. The fork spills from her fingers catering onto the plate. Sherry must be wrong, it's already feeling easier for her. Easier to forget to do what she is told , to live in the now where Negan keeps her safe.

 

“Get someone to bring you lunch later if you don't want to make anything.”

 

Pandora blinks Sherry is already standing in her kitchen, washing their plates. It makes her stop and look down at her own hands, her plate is gone . No, where did that time just go. She blinks trying to pull herself out of her own head. She wants to ask if the other women is sure about it not getting easier that can't be right. What if wrong with her if she finds it easy.

 

“Wait, Sherry... I,"

 

Sherry is already gone, steel door slamming shut behind her. Pandora can ’ t help but think maybe she doesn't want to be alone. She is left wondering if Negan ’ s wives always stay in that room during the day. Shaking her head, she turns her head back to the window. She stays there in the high-backed chair, curling her legs into her chest.

 

She thinks about Daryl now, finds him floating in her head somehow. Remembering his face when he saw her sitting among Negan ’ s wives. There was a flash of something in his eyes, an emotion she hadn't quite seen before. She can't quite make it out though.  He should be nothing but proud of her, she is doing just what he asked her to living. She isn't sure he understood the cost of what he had asked.

 

Outside the sky darkens, and a grumbling starts in her stomach. She can't remember the last time she ate, but she was sure it was brighter outside when she did. Peeling herself out of the chair she heads for the door, knocking on it. She doesn't even bother to go to the kitchen, already deciding she doesn't want to cook.

 

It takes a second but someone opens it, the bald man from both times before. She needs to learn his name she thinks when she looks at him, she had seen him almost every time she opened the door.

 

“Can I get something to eat?” Pandora asks her voice coming in a quick stream. “And some wine please.”

 

The bald man just shakes his head in a way of answer shutting the door on her. He will get it she knows he will. He has already been on the other end of Negan ’ s rage. There isn't a knock when the door opens this time, it just opens and the man enters again carrying her plate with a bottle of red wine in the other hand.  

 

“Here you go Princess.” He leaves then she hears the lock click back into place when the door is shut .

 

The food is good , stewed meat on rice with some fresh tomato on the side. She eats it all leaves the plate in the sink before she opens the wine. It's not a cork, just a twist off. She twisted it pouring some into a mug she found in the cabinet. There are no wine glasses that must have been something they decided was not important.

 

Pandora takes a bottle and mug in one hand, pulling a blanket off the bed as she walks past it. She heads for the high-backed chair her new favorite spot. The blanket goes over her legs as she curls them under her. This chair reminds her of home the most. Before she knows it, she's on her third glass and the door is opening behind her.

 

“Well, Well, when Dave said he brought you wine I wasn't sure he was serious.” The light from the open door eliminates Negan ’ s frame for a second before he closes it, plunging the room back into darkness.

 

Pandora rolls her head to the side glancing at him from the corner of her eye. “Come try it, it ’ s good.” The words roll off her tongue with an ease usually saved for Daryl, but she isn’t shocked . Negan gives a dark chuckle from behind her then goes silent moving with catlike grace to the other chair at her side.

 

“You gonna share that Princess?” He asks holding a mug out towards her. Pandora reached for the bottle filling the mug more than half way.

 

With her own mug now refilled she peers at him over the rim, “Thank you for the clothes. It ’ s all much better.”

 

Negan takes a sip and nods turning away from her. His eyes trace the movement of the lights under her window.

 

“This room faces the front, one of my favorite views. Watching the machine work.” He takes another sip lashings into silence.

 

“Thank you for letting me stay here.”

 

“Your earned it by being good .”

 

Pandora only takes another drink before returning her chin to rest on her knees.

 

“Dave's your new guy. He gets it.”

 

Pandora nods she thought that would be the case.  Knew there was a reason she had seen him since much today.

 

“Knows not to touch the crazy girl next time?”

 

Negan chuckles, “There she is.” Negan shaking his head and smiles at her. He really looks at her in those moments, she feels it.

 

“There who is?” She asked unable to help herself. Her voice had made itself known, and it doesn't seem to be stepping away again soon.

 

“Pandora.” Negan says taking another sip. “The girl behind all the other stuff.”

 

Pandora rolls her eyes glancing away from him. “You scare me, can ’ t be me when I' m scared .”

 

“You ’ re not scared now.” He comments leaning towards her reaching for the bottle. He fills his mug then leans in a breath away from her and refills her mug as well .  

 

“It's getting easier,” Pandora whispered.  

 

Negan only nods falling back in the comfortable silence. The sky outside has gotten darker, star brighten the expanse of darkness. The silence last for some time, then Negan is clearing his throat.

 

“I took the kid home.” Negan says after a while. “I did a good fucking thing, and those motherfuckers tried to shoot  me.”

 

Pandora goes stiff, hands curling tightly around the mug still her hands. She wonders if she will be punished for their actions. She has learned his moods change like the tides, so she waits for the other shoe to drop.

 

“One of them made a bullet. Can you fucking believe that , they made a bullet for me. I was pissed let me tell you Princess. But impressed that some fucking go getters you used to live with.”  He pauses rubbing his chin. With her eyes locked to him she notices for the first time he's shaved.

 

“I brought someone back here the one who made the bullet.” He looks up at her then. “I bet you know him Princess got a fucking mullet.”

 

“Eugene.” Pandora answers right away. Better to be fast better to do everything he is asking of her, better to be good .

 

“That's right Princess. Eugene.” Negan grins rubbing his chin. He leans towards her one has one hand resting on her knee now. “How would you like a visit with him tomorrow?”

 

Pandora looks up at him and tried to pull her face into a smile, the nod she gives is small he sees it. His eyes blaze for a second, her cheeks color from heat.  

 

“God damn Princess you are beautiful.” That makes her heart stop in her chest, a cold chill down her spine. “Thanks for the chat,” He reaches out taking her mug from her hand and adding it to the sink with his own. “Can ’ t wait to get to know you more.”

 

Pandora falls asleep in the big chair. The wine does something to her dreams. Everything is lighter, she doesn't dream about the line up. She dreams about the campsite about building the fence higher with her sister and mother. She's laughing and she can't remember the last time she did that.

 

When she wakes stiff still curled into a ball in the chair. She stretches her arms above her head, hearing the joints pop. She wakes up slow takes her time with her new routine. But she cleans today, makes the bed, wipes down the counters, it feels normal.

 

She spends the day in the room with no visitors, a few times she gets up and goes to the door. She asks for different things, to go to the roof, to go see Negan or his wives. Every time she asks it's a no, and the door is closed in her face.

 

When the sky darkens outside, she moves to the kitchen to make something to eat. She had to eat that was one rule. She cooks the Mac and cheese she finds in the cupboard. It's nice to do something like this, something human. She eats everything cleans the dishes and puts everything away before she leaves. She goes to the high-backed chair again watching the movement down below.

 

This time she takes a book off the shelf with her, Brain on Fire. The front cover is bright, and it had caught her eye when she walked by. She doesn't open it though, instead her eye is drawn to the activity down below. It looks like chaos different from anything she had ever seen before. Men move about shouting, black boxes held tight between near white fingers. Pandora leans forward she watches for a while until her chin dips to her chest and she falls asleep.

 

The next morning she wakes to the sound of plates and movement in her tiny kitchen. Opening her eyes she sits in silence for a long second. Trying not to make noise she turns her head to look behind her.

 

Negan stands with his back to her putting food on two plates. He looks huge in her kitchen, hulking frame bent over her tiny strip of counter. She finds it so insane it's funny, and a laugh bubbles up in her chest and gets past her lips. Shoulders jerking her turns seeing her watching him from the chair, a small tugs the corner of his mouth. When he's done, he walks towards her setting a plate in her lap lowering himself into the chair to her right.

 

“That ’ s a beautiful fucking sound.” Negan remarks staring at her so hard she feels the colour rise in her cheeks.

 

Her eyes snap away from his than turning rather to the plate off food on her lap. Scrambled eggs, with bits of peppers, and onions. There is a tiny bowl on the side of the plate, it ’ s filled with pure white whipped cream. It ’ s surrounded by strawberries and raspberries.

 

“They wouldn't let me leave yesterday, not even to see you.” She tells him this through bite fulls of food. She eats the eggs first wanting to save the fruit and whipped cream for last.

 

Negan is silent for a moment, “I had an interesting day yesterday Princess. Got up and someone had taken some of my shit. I was short a prisoner and a wife.”

 

Pandora instantly wishes she could take the remark go back to the silence between them. But it's too late her heart hammers painfully in her chest. The creams drips off the raspberry she is holding between her fingers.

 

“Any idea how Daryl got out?”

 

His words are a punch to her gut, air flowing out of her in a pained gasp. Daryl had gone, he left her here with Negan. She wants to cry feels is welling up inside her, but she refuses to let the tears come. Instead she digs her nails into the flesh of her arm, the pain is a lightning bolt of clarity.

 

“I don't know.” She whispers keeping her eyes down on her hands. There is silence again and the tears roll down her cheeks. The plate justs sits in her lap now untouched. Hand shaking she puts the plate on the small table between the chairs.

 

“He left you the first chance he got.” Negan's voice has something she can't recognize in a touch of a smug undertone. “Bet that blows to shit.”

 

She doesn't answer only tightened her grip on her arm, sure that soon her nails will draw blood. She needs that, the pitch and sting of cut skin Daryl left. He didn't even try to take her with him. She thinks back to what she was doing when we got away. Holed up in her room reading a book watching the world out the window. And Daryl had been running putting miles and miles between them.

 

“I'll leave you to it Princess.” Negan stands then looking down at her. His eyes are slightly glassy and she can see her own reflection in them, a small crumpled thing. “Before I go, who are you?”

 

“I'm Negan.” She whispers through her tears.

 

“Yes you are, see nothing's changed.”

 

Pandora doesn't hear him leave instead she curls into a ball in the chair and sobs. Daryl was gone . First opportunity he had, he ran and didn't look back. Pandora is left behind, left alive again. The pain in her chest is almost unbearable. It has her seeking to lessen it, running her nails up and down her arms leaving red lines in their wake.

 

She spends the rest of the day in bed. Alternating between sleeping and crying. Sleeping isn't peaceful tonight her dreams are filled with Daryl leaving her. Leaving her in every way she fears, leaving her with Negan, leaving her in a hoard of all her dead loved ones.

Notes:

Our poor little Pandora left behind. You didn't think I would make it that easy did you? How long have we been on this journey together? I promise in the dark recces of my brain there is a point to all of this. As always let me know what you think.

Chapter 40: A new place

Notes:

Welp here we are again! I loved everyone's reactions to the last chapter, it made me even more excited about where this is going. Please let me know what you think at the end!

Morning comes before she knows it, the sunrise finds her in tangled in the sheets. There was no dreaming that night, her grief had been too heavy for it. Her head is pounding from where she is resting it on the pillow still. The sort of headache that comes from crying too hard for too long. It still hurts the knowledge he left her. But she's had time alone and knows they wouldn't have made it if she had been there. She would have slowed him down, nothing more. In her head Pandora had tried to play out what they two of them running would look like. Steal a car maybe ? Through the woods on foot back to Alexandria? No weapons, no food nothing. They wouldn’t have made it.

 

Her logic doesn't mean it hurts less, it hurts the same. She had never thought about escaping, never tried. Daryl must have been planning for a while to make it out. Negan would find her if she ran, he would burn the rest of the world down somehow she knew that.

 

It's an effort the pull herself from bed this time, and for a few long seconds she lays there eyes still shut tight against the light. All her muscles ache from hours spent in the same position. There is a second where she thinks she should stay in bed waste away like before. Or go to the box and waste away there dip into madness and let that be the end.

 

She won't though. She will get up like she does every day and keep going. Because it all she has , moving forward . She fought when she wolves took her, fought them every day and lived. She will fight now too, a different kind, but she would live.  Negan could still hurt her, her people, he could still hurt Eugene. So she would keep going because nothing has changed, or she likes to tell herself that.

 

Sunlight streams into the windows covering her room in bright warm light. She blinks letting her eyes adjust to it. Shifting a sigh she sits up, throwing the covers off and heading for the bathroom. The shower she takes is quick, the water turned up as hot as it goes. She takes under ten minutes to be out hair washed and conditioned. She dresses in layers again jeans, a tank top, shirt and sweater. The sleeves are long and she likes it they hide the marks on her wrists.

 

An image of Negan's wives flashes in her head, all the well-dressed and fresh women filling their days with leisure. She wonders if dressing like them will give her even more points with him. When she holds a skirt to her legs, and the idea is gone like smoke, picturing herself hardly covered. Than she puts it back and shutting the doors, content with what she has already put on.

 

There are dishes clean and dry in the drying rack next to the sink, she doesn't remember putting them there. With a sigh she puts them away before heading to the fridge. The bake is still there, and she wants that, wants something warm and steaming.  She puts a good sized serving on her plate, not reallying knowing how long it had been since she ate anything. When it's done, she takes it with one of the chocolate shakes to the chairs in front of the window.

 

The parking lot belong is a hive of activity. In the bright morning sun men move around, loading cars and checking guns.

 

‘It’s a search party.’ She thinks to herself. They are all going out to see if they can catch Daryl and bring him back. If they found him Negan would make her watch whatever he would do to Daryl, she was sure. They wouldn't find him though, he was better than that, Daryl wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.

 

When she finishes, the plate, she drinks the shake. It makes her feel bloated and heavy. Pandora puts the cap back on wrinkling her face in disgust at the chalky aftertaste. It reminds her of the smoothes Denise and Daryl forced her to drink after they came back from the burnt forest. The sharp metal tang in the back of her throat was almost the same.

 

She thinks about them now and it's not as bad. Denise must be  happier now wherever she is, she wouldn't want to see this, anyway. Daryl is happier that she knows for sure. He’s gone with his family again, he must be happy .

 

In the kitchen Pandora cleans the dishes she had been using, careful not to use too much water. Hands covered in soap there is the sound of her door.  Pandora goes stiff for a second, because she knows Negan is standing there, he never knocks. There is a few seconds of heavy silence between them, and she knows he is examining her.  

 

“Princess have to tell you it's good to see you up and adam this morning.” Negan steps into the room.  

 

Her gave flickers up form the dishes to meet his, he grins at her. Behind her she watches two of his men step into the room. That has her heart hammering in her chest panic playing on her face. She’s not sure why she does that, she has had few things to fear for his men. Her fear isn't always logical.  Negan see’s it laying a heavy hand on her upper arm.

 

“Boys no need for you to follow me in here, the Princess and I are just fine.”

 

They are fine because she would never hurt Negan. She learned, she knows how things work here. Hurting him is hurting herself, she is Negan.

 

The men only nod and turn back out of the door.

 

“Thank you.” Her breath comes out as a relieved sigh, she means her thank you.

 

“No problem Princess,” He moves his hand from her arm crossing his arms over his chest resuming the relaxed posture. “Your looking good this morning Princess, I was worried when I left you last night.”

 

Pandora shakes her head as the conversation from last night threatens to overtake the present. She can’t think about that now, can't think about Daryl leaving. She has to move past it put it out of her head like she tried to do with everything else.

 

“You know my men won't hurt you right Princess?” Negan is staring at her then and his eyes are so soft her brain trips over herself. “Not like before, that doesn't happen here.”

 

“ I don't…” the words are choked off because one is never really sure of what men will do. “I don't.”

 

A hand on her arm pressure enough to make her leave the plate she was holding in the sink. It clatters against the stainless steel.

“Pandora, look at me.”

 

There is a moment where she is almost sure she will black out , but she doesn't. Instead she drags her eyes up to him. His face is different years melted away and replaced by softness. He reaches for her, a finger brushing lightly under her chin.

 

“No one here will hurt you like that.” Negan whispers it to her leaning back just a fraction “I don’t stand for that shit no way. I keep you safe.”

 

He keeps her safe, he saved her from the box. After when it was over she remembers that, remembers her coming to save her from darkness. He saved her the other day when the men tried to stop her, he saved her from Michael.

 

“You do.” The answer is easy now, because it true.  

 

“How would you like to spend the day with me?”

 

“Ok.” She whispered. She knew that was the right answer, just knew there was no other answer.

 

Part of her wondered what a day with him would entail. Following him around? Would he go looking for Daryl and take her with him? That was something she could picture him doing that, dragging her along while he hunter for him.

 

“Well come on  then we’ve got a meeting this morning.” Negan steps away from the counter and offers her his arm to take.

 

She does it because he told her to. It’s easy again just to do what he wanted, she doesn't even have to think about it.

 

When the leave the room the men that had come in with her are outside her door waiting. They say nothing just fall into step behind them. They walked down the stairs going a level or two lower than her room. She walks with him down the hall until he turns to the right and enters a meeting room.

 

The room is long and windowless, walls around the long table were bare. At the end of the table Dwight sits, waiting. He gets up when they enter shoots a glare at her before getting down on his knee.

 

“Get up Dwight and don't think I didn't see the look you gave my Princess.” Negan leads her to the head of the table, he pulls out a chair to the right Pandora lowers herself into it. He takes the seat Dwight was in.

 

Leaning back Nagen folds his arms over his chest, “What. Happened.” He asks.

 

Dwight it sitting to Negan's left now hands in a tight fist in front of him. “She’s staying.”

 

“Fuck yes she is.” Negan doesn't ask again he only raises his eyebrow, waiting. Dwight looks at her again, then back his folded hands at the table. She guessed he saw whatever answer he was looking for in her eyes, not that she knew the answer. Pandora couldn't think of why Negan would want her in this meeting.

 

Dwight launches into a story about how he found Sherry. How she told him what really happened between her and Doctor. Pandora goes stiff as she listens, Dwight tells Negan how scared Sherry was of the Doctor, and she just knew she had to run. Dwight says he tried to stop her to tell her to come back and sort it out. Sherry didn’t listen and runs right into some dead ones and was gone .

 

Pandora sits shocked into silence. She had just seen Sherry yesterday, the women had brought her food and stocked her fridge. They had talked about the people that they were trying to protect.

‘She was saying goodbye.’ Pandora thought to herself she was making sure Pandora was taken care of before she left.

 

There is silence now in the room, no one makes a sound. Negan sighs pinching the bridge of his nose.

 

“She was one of my favourites.” Standing Negan holds out his hand to her. “Come one Princess we have a Doctor to talk to.”

 

Negan leads her down to the main floor. It's hot down here stifling even, she can hear what sounds like a fire, the crackle and hiss of wood. Glancing up she spots the huge furness, metal radiating heat down on the onlookers.

 

Negan's people were all gathered around it, in front stood his wives hands clasped in front of their black clad frames. Behind them his man and workers all standing still and somber.

 

“Stand right here with my wives Princess.” Negan moved her hair from her shoulder tucking it behind her ear before moving on.

 

Her stomach twists inside her, she knows this will not go well. Her skin prickles nerves on edge. Everything around her is still, like they  are collectively holding their breath.

 

“You are going to want to pay close attention to this.” Negan is grinning, Lucille pointing at Eugene.

 

Pandora follows the line of the bat Eugene stands on a stairwell next to a bored looking blond women. Just then Negan swings Lucille catching the Doctor in the right arm, the force sends him stumbling. Pandora steps backwards hand flying to her mouth. She's in the line up again, listening to Negan beat Abraham and Glenn.

 

“ You have to watch .” Tanya hisses in her ear, fingers wrapped around her arm tightly .

 

The Doctor is begging now pledging, telling Negan he did nothing.

 

Negan pulls a paper from his pocket, “I found this little souvenir tucked away in your desk. “

 

Pandora can’t see it but she assumes it has something to do with Sherry. She remembers the story Dwight told them this morning, about how the Doctor let Daryl go.

 

“I-I-I don’t know what that is.” The doctor stammers.  

 

Negan swings the bat again, hitting the Doctor in the side this time. He grunts douldes over and coughs. Negan sighs walking away, he comes back into her field of vision a pair of heavy black gloves in his hands.

 

“You left the door open and let my puppy out.” Negan booms leaning back. He catches Pandora’s gaze and for a second she can’t breathe. He looks away then back to the Doctor. “You knew Sherry hated Daryl being here, so you let him out for her, to be the hero. So you could move in. That is some weaselly fucking  shit right there.”

 

“But I didn't, she’s the one who ran!”

 

“She ran?! You know why she ran? Because she knew I would blame her, which I did” He sighs shaking his head. “But, see, Sherry told Dwight boy the whole story.  Right before she was torn apart . A super hot girl horrifically killed because of your greedy delusional and tiny little prick.”

 

“That’s not true. He’s lying about it. I would never do that.”

 

“Why? Why would he do that?” Negan looks around, this time Pandora bows her head in time, watching the floor. “Why would Dwight intentional try to hurt you? Sherry’s gone. And if he’s lying, and she’s out there, I will find her. And then I will burn the other side of his face off until he dies. So what is he going to get out of this?”

 

There is a moment of silence, Tanya tightened her grip on Pandora’s arm to make sure she is still watching. She is though eyes fixed in horror to the bright flame burning in the furness . She knows, she knows this will not end well, Negan does not do mercy.

 

“No. See I know my Dwight boy. See all he needed was another night in the box, get his head screwed on straight.” Negan glances backwards eyes scanning the crowd when he stops on her she knows he had found what he was looking for. “Works kind of the same for everyone I think .”

 

He is talking about her, and her skin crawls. Fighting to keep her calm on the outside. There is a cold feeling in her gut, she wants to leave now. Thinks that whatever will happen here won't be good and she doesn't want to be a part of it. Pandora misses whatever is said next but catches Negan's mouth moving. She tried to pull her arm from Tanya hoping the other women has loosened her hold. She hasn’t and when Pandora tries to move Tanya hisses in her ear to stay still.

 

Pandora tries she does, but when Negan pulls out the hot iron her body screams at her to run. The Doctor is begging now, but the words are lost to her everything else seems too loud.

 

“You know I hate this shit. Just tell me you did it and that you’re sorry, and I don't have to do this.”

 

“YES! I did it all of it . Sorry. I'm so sorry.”

 

For a second everything stops. This Doctor let Daryl out, but he left her. He knows had seen her drugged up in medical, fixed her up after the box and he left her here.  she isn't scared anymore, no she's furious.   She could have been gone out of this place, running with Daryl. INstead she stays forever Negan's good little pet.

 

“That's all you had to say!” Negan says dropping the iron on the floor. It falls close to her heat still radiating off it it, she can feel it through her boots.

 

There is a second where she thinks maybe she is wrong maybe he knows mercy, but it gone when she looks in his eyes. He glances at her for a second and grins, her blood goes cold. When he breaks eye contact, she follows his gaze it sweeps up to Eugene standing with the blonde women.

 

Everything seems to calm, until the scene explodes before her. Negan turns and shoves the Doctor into the flames. The entire room is filled with the sounds of him screaming, no one else makes a sound. Something in her snaps at that, despite her rage she hears him screaming and thinks of her Mother screaming as the wolves descend on her, she thinks of the way Tabitha used to scream in the beginning when they were taken .

 

Tanya turns unable to face it and leaves moving through the crowd. Pandora whips her head around only catching them glismp of her moving through the bodies. Then Pandora is moving as well , running past people shoving those who don't move for her. Someone shouts tries to grab her, but she's too quick and too far gone now. She skates past them, all of them until she is at the back of the room.

 

There is a set of doors that say exit, she flies for it. Pushing it open only to find herself in almost utter darkness. Spinning she puts her hands out until they feel something. A railing she thinks , leaning down her fingers brush the cool stone of the first steps and then she's running again. Taking the steps two of three at a time, the screaming follows her though. Echoes in the dark hallway, covering the sound of even her own breathing.

 

Pandora can be sure how far she runs, but the second she hears a door under her open she is out into a hallway again.  They next door she opens takes her outside, shocked she stops.

The ground is three stories below her at least, she is standing over the back entrance. On the other side of the fence is forest. The small platform she stands on metal bars covering the stairs meant to take you down. There is no where to go, expect back inside. She isn't ready for that yet.

 

Instead she curls herself into a ball against the back wall, knees drawn to her chest. Crying again she isn't even quite sure why anymore. The horrible way the Doctor died? The fact that he let Daryl free and not here? How much of herself she keeps losing every day she is here? Not that it matters, the tears keep coming.

 

“Ice cold-I love it.” Negan patts Dwight’s face before turning away intent on collecting the Princess. It been a good day he thinks , taught everyone a lesson. Dr Smartypants, his little Princess, they should get it now. He will always find out everything, better just do what you told.

 

Pandora knows that , or she is coming to terms with it. Hard to tell with how crazy she can be sometimes. He can’t help but like her though, she is beautiful. Even now all skinny and shit, she is a looker.

Three of his wives stand there still, Amber sobbing the usual, Frankie holding her. It kinda hot , but when his glances around he doesn 't see Tanya or Pandora.

 

“Where is the Princess?” It shocks the man standing in the front of the group into silence. “WHERE?” He thunders it then, and again silence. It should be common fucking knowledge now to watch her after Daryl they should just know .

 

“Negan!” Dave breaks through the crowd sweat dotting his forehead.

 

“Dave my man you better have my new pet!” Negan steps towards him already pulling the walkie from his pocket.

 

“No, sorry Negan I tried to chase her, but she’s fast.”

 

“FUCK!” Negan screams ripping the gloves off his leaves them on the floor. Most of the crowd is gone now, even his wives have left. Only some of his men remain there, waiting watching.   Lifting the walkie to his lips he presses it. “My new pet is missing, find Princess Pandora! Do not fucking touch her, find her and call me!”

 

For a second no one moves and the rage Negan feels is almost enough to want to kill someone else.  

 

“You heard the man! Find her!” The gets them moving skaters them like roaches in the light.

He goes too walking to the back of the room where he assumes she disappeared through the people.

 

He won't be mad at her, no no. Not after making her watch something like that, he should have kept a closer eye on her. She’s a tricky one his Princess, most of the time she knows the rules.  Sometimes he pushes her too far, that's all. It’s his own fault.

 

“Not her fault at all.” He mutters to himself as he walks.

Notes:

Well? Love me? Hate me? A bit of both? Let me know in the comment.

Chapter 41: A Chat

The sun changes positions as she sits. Floating higher and higher into the sky. Without clouds as a cover it’s rays beat down on the small exposed patch of skin on the back of her neck. Pandora watches the sky, head back as far as comfortable to soak up every little bit of the warmth. She never looks under her, but she hears the hustle and bustle of movement down there. There is a breeze today, it picks up the loose hairs on her head and moves them.

She misses being outside, misses being surrounded by grass and trees. This place is cold. All the ground covered in concrete, only things growing are food. Alexandria had flowers, and trees. Little gardens in front of homes. The sanctuary is too cold, too much like the man who runs it.

When the door eventually opens on Pandora’s little balcony, her body is stiff from sitting for so long. It's not as warm as it used to be, sun slipping down the sky. She could come inside now she thinks. Curl up somewhere warm and sleep the rest of the day away.

 

“There you are Princess, I've been worried about you.”

Negan stands in the open door way, sunlight bouncing off his leather jacket. He sounds worried. So much so that Pandora snaps her head up to look at him to check. He stands there stock still watching her hands up and open.

“Come on in Princess.” Nega smiles at her putting one foot on the metal railing, it groans under his weight. “I don’t trust this thing to hold me up.”

Pandora sighs counting to five in her head, the seconds help. A breath of time to by the time she gets to five the panic is less and she stands hand gripping the meal railing. As if to prove him right the metal under her groans in the protest. In three steps she is back inside stepping right into Negan's open arms.

She can’t say why she does it, why she goes to him right than. But it feels right, feels like the thing she is meant to do than. He saves her, he always saves her. They don’t talk for a few moments only stand there in the open doorway. He has his arms held loss around her shoulders, an awkward hug. His fingers aren't still thought, they rub her shoulder blades in small deliberate circles.

“There you go Princess, come on inside.” He tightens his arms around her before pulling her further into the hallway. She shuts her eyes, around her she hears other bodies, footsteps ruffling of clothes.

‘Keep your eyes closed’ she tells herself, it easier that way. Easier to pretend Negan is someone else. Pandora pretends it Daryl leading her back inside.

Negan moves down the hallway with her at his side, he talks to her. Pandora can't make out the words but the rumbling in her chest are soothing. Somewhere in her head she knows this is wrong, knows this man is a monster. But she’s tired, and Daryl is gone, and Negan keeps her safe. It’s enough for now.

He doesn't take her back to her own room, instead she finds herself laying down in a massive black bed. The room is on the small side, bed taking up more than half of the space. Negan is talking again, but she isn’t listening. Instead stays curled up in the soft black bed.

“Unless this fucking place is on fire do not bother me.”

 

That’s the last thing she hears before she is slipping away. Then she is waking up, joints and muscles stiff. Rubbing her eyes Pandora takes a few deep breaths. She doesn't remember getting into the bed, remembers nothing past stepping into the room. But here she is stiff and groggy from deep sleep. There is a window to her left, outside the sun is setting in an almost clear sky. She doesn’t sit upright away no instead she curls in herself more, becoming a tiny pop of colour against the black sheets.

The door opens then, a slow groaning sounds from behind her. That wakes her up more, makes her blink a few times. Her left hand lays flat on the bed fingers spreading out over the blankets. Its soft.

“Put it down there.” It Negan she hears from behind her. His voice it pitched low, quiet and careful. There is the sound of footsteps, plates against wood and then the door again.

In front of here there is one dirty window pain. The small squares of glass have been painted over with a grey paint. She had seen it before in other places in the warehouse, windows like this one. She can’t see the outside, doesn’t know what side of the building this room faces. There are heavy curtain over the windows, blocking out the sun.

Negan steps in her line of sight, blocking out her view.

“Come and eat, Princess.” He reaches for her holds out a hand to pull her up. There is a small sitting area in the next room with two chairs and a small table between them. The table is full with two steaming bowls.

Pandora let's him pull her up from the bed, the moment he sit her up he let’s her go. Her knees come up to her chest right again giveing her chin something to rest on. She doesn't want to eat. But the food smells good and she knows what happens when she doesn't eat. So she drags herself up to the high backed plush chair.

Negan moves to sit to her right, a bowl already in his hands. Pandora takes one from the small table. It's a thick stew, chunks of beef and vegetables. The first spoon goes down easy but sits at the bottom of her stomach unmoving.

She stalls then toying with the spoon in the bowl twirling the meat in the liquid. Her body is different. She feels it, too weak still. Recovering from her time in the box. She has a urge to be strong again like before in Alexandria where she would run all morning. Looping around the street until she was sure she was going to die.

“You don't like it?” Negan's voice interrupts her hacking apart a potato in the bowl.

“No it's good,” she mutters another spoonful in her mouth. It sinks down into her stomach too.

She finds it easy to sit here with him though. Despite the fact that he shoved the Doctor in a roaring fire. It should scare her. Sure part of her was scared of him, well maybe not him. It was hard to think about, she's scared of the box and she guesses him because Negan puts her in the box. But here she isn't scared of him, she is learning more about him she trusts he won’t hurt her.

Most of the time it's fine, she's not scared. Because she knows what to do , which is whatever she's told. That makes Negan happy, keeps him from getting mad. Which keeps her out of the box. This differs from the wolves, she needs to be a good girl here to survive. Pandora puts another spoonful of stew into her mouth. It is really good, and her body remembers it’s hungry. Three quick spoonfuls and the bowl is empty, she returns it to the table.

Pandora watches Negan get up and head for the wooden door to the right of her. When he comes back she notices he took the dishes with him, and returned with two mugs a bottle of wine and a little pill bottle. He hands and bottle to her and she take it, opening the lid and popping one out.

“Here” Negan presses a mug full of red wine into her hands. Popping the pill into her mouth she takes it with a gulp of the wine.

“Drugs and alcohol how classy.” Pandora lans back feeling the tension leaking from her muscles already. It's been a few days without drugs and now they hit her hard. She already feels herself relaxing against the chair, relaxing with him.

“Well you know me Princess.” Negan laughs leaning back in the chair. He drowns the constense of his mug, and is then refilling it along with her own. “What did you do before in Alexandria? You kill the dead fuckers? Find shit for your people?”

Pandora blinks staring at him, then dropping her eyes down into her lap. There is a few seconds of silence before she speaks. She didn't do anything, but try and live. She wasn’t useful maybe one of the least useful people there. What would you call what she did? Learning to be human again.

“I trained, went to therapy.” She stops remember the runs she went on with Daryl and Rick. “I had been going on runs before…”

“Before what?”

“Before Dwight killed my friend.”

There is silence then. Pandora tightens her hands into fists, feeling her nail bite into the flesh of her palm. She stopped going out after that, after she watched Denise die.

“Got a little rough there with my Dwighty boy.”

“He almost killed me.”

“I know.”

Pandora takes another long sip of her wine, licking the last drops off her lips. That day flashes in her eyes. Watching Denise fall to the ground, Daryl struggling to hold her up as she died. Pandora shivered remember the arrow in her shoulder, the rage she had felt, how almost dying had felt. The memories are almost enough to swallow her up, pull her under. But the wine is a sweet anchor to the world and Negan speaks.

“What were you training in?” Negan askes leaning closer to her, his elbows resting on his knees. Sometimes she doesn't understand him, he looks at her like this sometimes with genuine interest. Like he really cares about her, wants to know her.

“Hand to hand combat. To make sure…” Hot breath in her face, fingers on the inside of her tights. A sharp shake of her head and the images are gone. “To make sure no one can ever touch me again.”

Negan makes some kind of noise in his throat. Pandora glances up at him to find him nodding slowly, fingers stroking his shaved chin.

“I have someone who can help you with that Princess.” He flashes her one of his devilish grins, the kind that makes her stomach twist. “ How would you like that?”

“ That would be nice of you.”

“Always so fucking polite to me Princess I love it.”

Pandora flexes her fingers again feels them biting into flesh. Although she doesn't need that anymore, not thanks to the wine and little white pill. No, now she feels relaxed. A calm settling over her like a blanket. Tilting her head to the side she looks at him.

“Do you miss him?” Negan asks.

“Yes.” The answer is quite rolling off her tongue like it was desperate to get out. Her blood begin to roil for him, calls out into the world for Daryl like he is a part of her. He is really, he is her anchor. Daryl isn't here though, he’s gone somewhere safe somewhere far from here with his family.

“I'll bring him back for you Princess.” Negan is so confident in that statement a grin spreading across his face.

Pandora looks up at him, eyebrows shooting up so high they are almost touching her hair line. “If he comes back here it won't be as your prisoner, it will be to burn this place to the ground.”

Negan stares at her for a second, then explodes into laughter. Great belly shaking laughter, that fills the room. He thinks its funny, thinks the rage that Daryl will come back to this place with is something to laugh at. Negan doesn’t know hasn’t seen that darkness they both share. Daryl will come back here all rage and fire to bring everything down.

“I have a feeling you're not wrong.” He says finally finished laughing. Shaking his head his rubs his chin again. “I have you though. That's gonna be how I catch him Princess. When he comes for you.”

That makes her stomach twist painfully. He would come for her first that's true. Get her out then burn this whole place down. She is the bait for the trap Negan would spring. It strikes her then that she would do what he says, even if it meant Daryl was captured again she would do it. What did that even make her, more Negan's pet than anything else.

Negan takes another sip of his wine and offers the bottle out to her again. She holds out her own cup for him to fill, distracted.

“This should be our new thing Princess. A glass of wine and chat in the evening.” he smiled at her tilting his head to the side. “ I like your company.”

They falls into silence then, Pandora nurses the wine left in her mug. Sometimes she doesn't understand him, he is almost too mad for her to understand. Isn’t that a joke, too mad for her. When she isn't even a full person, more like a shell little bit of herself littered in the all places she had ever been.

“How did he our boy Daryl find you anyway.” His thumb is stroking his mug as he watches her.

Tree bark on her back, feet catching the roots as she is dragged sobbing away. Finally too broken to be their toy. She can almost feel the ropes on her wrists, the tightening of them around the truck.

“When the wolves are finished with you they leave they you tied to a tree for the dead. That's when he found me.” The whole thing comes out in a long whispered breath. She knows Negan heard her though, because she can feel the weight of his eyes on her.

“Are they still out there?”

Pandora shifts tucks her knees under her sinking further into the plush chair. Her muscles melt into the cushions. The pills make this feel easy, making talking about this too easy. Like its not her, like she isn’t talking about the events that changed her life forever. She never did see all their bodies, the wolves but she knew they were gone. Wiped off this planet like dust, their only lasting impact seen in her.

“No,” a quick shake off her head. “They tried to take our home, my people killed them.”

“Where were you?” Negan is filling his cup again. Than reaching out for her own cup.

She's light headed, limbs feelings tired and heavy. There is a image she has of herself being so relaxed she sinks into the cushions disappears right in front of him. That would be funny, to turn into a pile of mush right here, melt away into the cracks in the walls and the floors. She doesn’t like to think about these things usually, but she drunk and high on whatever the little white pill was. So everything is easy, talking about it it easy, but remember is easy too. With every question she is right there back in that moment. Right now she is in the burnt woods, waking up with her wrist bound together.

“Pandora? Where were you.”

His voice snaps her out of the moment, shatters the memories before her eyes like glass. He asks almost like he knows the answer, which can't be.

“I was running from your men with Dwight.”

Negan stares at her, she can watch the wheels turning in his head forming his answer. There isn't an opportunity for him to respond. Whatever he was going to say was interrupted by a sharp knock on the door.

“What the fuck did I say.” The sentence is slow long and drawn out.

She tilts her head to watch him go for the door, she hears him walking further than another door opens.

“What?” Negan growls out the question.

“Sorry Negan I know what you said. But but there's been a situation. Someone got in here kill some of our guys.”

There is some silence, “Get the fuck in here tell me what happened.”

Pandora is worried, there is something deep in her gut that is screaming at her. So she lets her feet drop to the ground feeling it solid under her. Hands gripping the sides of the arm chair she pulls herself up, the room dips and pitches to the side but she stays standing.
Her mind goes somewhere else to a darker place when she thing about someone here killing Negan’s men. There is a part of her that wonders if it’s the wolves, come back to take down another community. Her fear while misplaced as it might be is almost consuming her.

Her feet take her forward hands reaching for the frame of the door to the next room. She is to drunk for this walking business. It had been easier to be sitting, she didn't notice how drunk she was than.

The room she steps into is a living room of sorts. There are no windows here only unmark grey walls. Negan sits on a plush brown sofa, one leg crossed over the other. He looks angry rage simmering on his features. A man sits in the chair across from him hunched over, elbows on his knees.

“Negan?” Her voice is low, but he hears it head snapping up to meet her gaze.

In seconds he is moving for her hands on her elbows to keep her standing. She hadn't noticed she was leaning on the door frame. Now with Negan leading her back to the sofa she realizes how unsteady she feels on her feet.

Negan sits her down, sitting next to her. Her body responds to his warmth, she curls into him tucking her toes under his leg. Negan shifts to make her more comfortable.

“What happened?” Pandora whispers leaning into his side.

“Hush now Princess, it’s ok. I promise.”

Pandora huffs a sigh, but she doesn't really have it in her to question more questions. So she waits and listens. She relax against him, the wine swimming in her blood making everything too light.

“Keep going.” Negan flicks his fingers at the other man. Pandora blinks looking up at the man sitting in front of her. Negan shifts looping on arm around her shoulders pulling her a little bit tighter. She thinks of resisting, thinks of pushing him away. But she is tired and he’s warm and it’s almost like he cares about her. Almost is close enough right now.

 

“Keep fucking talking and don’t stare at her.”

“Like I said I have guys checking the fence we think that’s how she got in. We have her in a cells right now. Letting her sit on it.”

Pandora tilts her head to the side watching, listening. Someone has gotten in here. Someone has gone through their fences and come into the compound. Men had died. Beside her Negan shakes his head.

“Come one now Princess, time for bed.” Negan stands taking her with him. She is weightless in her arms it takes nothing for him to take her back to the bedroom. This time he pulls the black sheets open lowing her down he covers her again. “You stay here tonight.”

He leans over her lips brushing her forehead lightly. It's just a feather light touch, but she shivers feels warmth spreading from the site. Pandora sighs pulling the comforter lose against her.

Her eyes are closed now the darkness welcome. She can still hear Negan in the room, his footsteps move away from her.

“No one comes in or out of this room until I get back.”

Notes:

Well??

Chapter 42: Friends now

Notes:

Bam! I do off and on still write this. I really do love it still! Let me knoe what you think? If anyone is still reading this or I'm writing for the crickets lol!

Chapter 42

 

Through the night there are no dreams only the total blackness of sleep. She loves this type of sleep, a sweeping blackness where nightmares cannot reach her. Pandora wakes up with the muddled sunlight struggling to cut through the curtains. Her head pounds, huge and heavy on the pillow. Shifting the heavy blankets Pandora hides from the sun. No, she couldn't wake up now. Didn’t want too, everything was too loud even her own breathing. The sheets against her skin sounds like paper in ears.

 

Curling deeper under the blankets the events of last night play behind her eyes lids. She had too much to drink last night, taken a little white pill, gotten too comfortable with Negan. She remembers following him into the little living room curling into him and listened the other man talk. His body had radiated heat, reminded her of Daryl that way. In that moment it had been enough for her.   It doesn’t matter; she tries to tell herself it doesn’t. Part of her believes it it doesn’t matter here. She’s alive, and that is all the matters.

 

She was wondering what Daryl would think if he saw her now.  Would he be proud that she had chosen something other than death? Isn’t this death though, she thinks to herself? A tiny collection of mini deaths of herself.

 

The sound of someone breathing finds her under the thick blankets. This isn't her room, Negan must be in the next room. He could have gone somewhere else, he has six wives. She guessed they all had rooms as nice as this too why else would anyone agree to marry him? It was for the things he would give you; he gave her freedom from the box.

 

She doesn’t get up though, no right away. Only curls herself tighter under the covers. He will come in here soon, he will wake up and come to get her. Might as well enjoy these last few fleeting moments of peace. They used to do this at home, her and Daryl. Stay hiding in bed until someone came to find them. Those were the best days, the ones that started and ended lazy. It isn't the same with Negan, only sometimes does it get close.

 

“Bring us something to eat, and some fucking coffee.”

 

The snaps her out of her morning daydreaming, the harsh tone of Negan voice. Pandora sits up, it's a slow movement and the world spins in her eyes. Her mouth is thick and dry, like her mouth had been packed with cotton in the night. There is a bottle of water and little white pills on her bed-side table she doesn't remember putting there. Negan must have left it for her, in her head she tries to picture him coming in her at night. She doesn't  remember hearing him, doesn't even remember waking up.

 

In the next room there are heavy footsteps moving around the space. Then there is another door opening and closing. The room fills now with the smell of cooked food. Her stomach grumbles at the smell and she is awake more.

 

“Here you go Negan. I’ll wait outside when you ready.”

 

In the seconds left behind the man speaking she hears footsteps again, this time they are moving towards her. Pandora drowns the white pills with the water, it helps with the dryness in her mouth. She knows he is coming for her next. The second the cup hits the small bedside table Negan is standing in the room.

 

“Morning Princess, got you something to eat.” Negan leans on the door frame, arms crossed over his chest. He’s wearing a white t-shirt this morning, it’s tight fabric straining against his muscles. She is getting more used to seeing him so relaxed around her.  “I got you some shoes there too.”

 

He turns and leaves than and Pandora blinks eyelids still struggling to stay open. Her head still pounds like a marching band is performing inside her skull. Her eyes move to the floor seeing the little black running shoes beside the bed. That's not all he put in there though. Folded neat at the edge of the bed there is a pair of light wash jeans, a sports bar, a black tank top and a deep blue sweater.

 

In the night he had brought her clothes too. Laid them out crispy and clean for her to find. When she stands the floor is solid under her. She tests her limbs, an arm over her head, fingers straining down to her toes, knee drawn up to her chest. Her muscles get loose and warm, and she is almost sure she could do some of her old routine again.  

 

In the sitting room she finds Negan waiting. He’s relaxed it surprises her after the events of last night. She expected him to be rage and curses after finding out someone broke in to kill him. But there he is leaning back in a kitchen chair, a steaming mug of coffee in this hand. In his free hand he holds a magazine, eyes scanning the words.

 

She clears her throat when she enters he looks up. They stare for a moment at each other, Negan’s eyes wonder from her face down to her feet. Taking her in gaze slow deliberate, he licks his lips sipping from a mug in his hand. Pandora shifts her weight from one foot to the other, the rusle of her clothes is enough to break the silence.

 

“Good Morning,” Pandora returns his gaze with the same intensity wondering what she will see. What she sees when she looks hard she sees a man who is tired, This war is dragging him down, it is taking everything he has to hold this place together. She slips into the chair opposite him at the table.

 

“Mornin ’ Princess.” His voice has a drawl to it. She heard it a few times before and every time her stomach twists. “Got you some perfect hangover food.” He hands her a plate. It’s heaped with food, potatoes, peppers, onion mixed with sausage and a fried egg on top.

 

Her stomach is awake in a flash, rumbling and eating itself. She digs into the food, they both eat like that in silence. It’ s good, and she has to say not cooking is nice. Whenever she needs something she gets it, they do whatever she wants. It’s easy here, no one looks at her here to be anything. She isn't expected to be anything, she is just here.

 

The smell of the coffee brings her attention back to him. Her mouth waters at the idea of the rich dark liquid. How long had it been since she had anything like that? They only had tea at home and not matter how strong you made it, it wasn't the same.

 

“Can I have coffee?” She asks between fork fulls of food. Negan smiles at her reaching to his left and producing a thrums from the side table.

 

“There is some just for you. We even have cream.”

 

He pours her a mug and drops a little splash of cream from a cup on the table. The aroma of the coffee has her inhaling deeply . In a second she is back in her kitchen at home, her mug in hand news station playing in the background some history text in her hand. It’s so normal it hurts.

 

“How’s your head this morning?” Negan’s voice brings her back. How does he even do that, know the moment she needs to be pulled back?

 

“It hurts. You shouldn’t have let me drink so much.” That was the second time since the world went to shit she drank, and before the world was shit only a handful of time. Pandora was too busy to drink, either with training or school. Drinking didn’t fit her image.

 

Negan laughs sipping from his own mug, “Ya maybe , but it seems like we’re friends now. Guess the wine helped.”

 

Pandora sighs sipping her coffee again. Friends is not the word she would use to describe them, but it is something. It’s different now she thinks, she feels different with him. Negan somehow knows her, she doesn’t know how. But he picks up on things Daryl only seemed to ever know , he knows when she needs to be pulled back or what she needs in a moment.

 

“I have a busy day today Princess. Busy, busy day.” Negan sighs rubbing his hands over his eyes. “Your people are becoming a pain in my ass. They are not as good as you are.”

 

“Someone from--” There isn't enough air in the lungs then and the falters unable to speak, then she inhales the coffee again. Before she thinks she can speak the words are already out. “Is it someone from Alexandria?”

 

“You got that right, huge set of lady balls on her this one.” Negan stands than finishing the mug and offering a hand to her. Pandora takes it because she just knows how things work now. His grip is warm and firm, he pulls her up until she is standing, a mug still clutched in her free hand.

 

“I’ll have your man Dave take you back to your room ok?”

 

Dave takes her back to her room but refuses to let her go anywhere else. She asks for Tanya, to go the to roof. Nothing. More and more she feels like a prisoner here.

The afternoon finds her waking up from a nap in her own bed. She had been reading in silence and slipped away. She isn't under the sheets, just curled into a small ball over her comforter. Stretching cat like arms above her head, joints popping. Taking a few deeps breaths before stretching her legs out.

 

She wonders who had come for him in the night. Thinks it might be Rosita all fire and rage like she had been that day back in Alexandria. She thinks she would be the one to come in here in the night guns blazing. Maybe she tried to come for her, tried to find out where Negan was keeping her. It’s a sweet thought that someone might come looking for her. A mission to find the Princess in her ivory tower.

 

There is a sound behind her, the handle of the door moving. Its Negan she knows. He never knocks, always comes and goes  whenever he pleases. It doesn't bother as much as maybe it should. He gave her this room, he can come in when he wants.

 

Pandora remembers the comments this morning about how busy his day will be. She wonders what he is doing here than. Why come and see her. So she up straightens her clothes and comes to stand beside her chair. Negan steps into the room shutting the door behind him he sets two plates down on the kitchen counter.

 

“Brought you lunch Princess we need to have a chat.” Negan sits down at the kitchen table and eats from his plate. It’s an egg sandwich with a few pickles on the side.

 

Pandora goes to the kitchen table, she doesn’t speak just goes right to eating. Her stomach is knotted , dread sitting like a stone in the bottom of it. Negan reaches in his pocket pulls out a little yellow bottle of pills. Her eyes go right to the bottle trying to see what’s inside. It looks like three pills. She knows they must be going somewhere last time he drugged her he took her Alexandria paraded her around like the good pet she was.

 

“Take one of these in the morning and bring the bottle with you.” Negan pushes it towards her. She looks up at him holding the sandwich in her hands lightly. He's watching her openly . Does he think she 's going to refuse? That would be stupid and she knows better.

 

She says nothing only goes back to eating. When she's finished, she brushes her hands on her pants clearing the crumbs and giving herself a few moments to collect her thoughts.

 

“Where are we going?”  Pandora finally asks him, it’s easy for her to talk to him still. That makes her worry just for a second because she isn’t drunk and hasn’t had any meds and still she finds talking to him easy.

 

“We gotta set some shit right.” Negan says brushing his fingers off on his jeans. He wipes his mouth too, cleans the bread growing back on his chin. “We are taking your friend Sacha home going to have to teach a few more lessons.”

She sits stiff in the chair, wood digging into her back. Negan watches her from across the table. Her fingers tightened in fists nail biting into the skin. It makes everything more clear, and she tries not to think about what teaching lesson might mean.

 

She thinks about Sacha than. She back in the line up bits of Abraham on her face. There is a tightening of her muscles she tries to keep calm.

 

“They did a number on you  didn’t they Princess.”

 

She knows what he is talking about, he's talking about the shaking mess she is right now. How she spends much of her time crying or sleeping, and she when isn't doing those things she drinking or taking pills. Here she is something different though. Here she is a shell all over her old self gone from inside, and it's easy to be this. To do what she is told . She doesn’t really try to be better here, there is no better.  

 

“It comes and goes.”  

 

Negan nods slowly . “What did you do before?”

 

“I had someone to talk too.”  Pandora whispered thinking about their sessions. Day in and day out Denise wrote in a little book as they talked.

 

“Maybe I’ll find you someone for you.” Negan stands then takes the plates from the table and heads for the door. “Let’s see how well you do tomorrow huh Princess.” He leaves then, taking everything with him and shutting the door on his way out.

 

In the room she passes back and forth Her mind runs away with her thoughts. She pictures them rolling into Alexandria having everyone watch as they killed more of her family. Blood all over pavement, the sound of Maggie sobbing for her husband.  Daryl screaming for Negan not to touch her.

 

No, no she would be safe though. Negan wouldn’t hurt her not unless she gave him a reason too. She wouldn’t do that she wouldn’t do anything he didn’t want her to do. Pandora should tell him that, she should make sure he knows she will be good when they leave. She would take the white pill and do just what he tells her. Maybe she can help Negan maybe she can show everyone how easy it is.

 

Pandora goes for the door out of the room knocking three times in rapid succession. When the door opens Dave is standing there, face blank.

 

“I need Negan.” She whispers. Dave only shakes his head than shuts the door.

 

Her hand presses to the cold steel of the door, she waits but nothing happens. The door doesn’t open again. Dave isn't going to let her leave. So instead she turns for her bed strips off the clothes he gave her that morning and opens a book. There is a chill in the air but the heavy blankets help her feel warmer.

 

It doesn't take long for her to slip away into darkness. But rest does not come easy to her. Her dreams are tormented , filled with wolves and Negan. An endless expanse of burnt and blackened wood. She doesn’t wake though tosses and turns in her sleep.

 

She wakes screaming hands around her own throat, clawing at her self. The pain of her nails raking her skin breaks her out of the panic. She lowers her hands gripping the blankets at her sides.  

 

Outside the sky isn't even light let, the sky is a light red brightening for the day. Her face is sticky with already drying tears. Rolling over she pulls herself up rubbing the heels of hands.

 

The shower calls her name she raises heads up to the bathroom shutting the door behind her.

 

Pandora dresses in jeans, and layers her tops. Once she dressed she heads into the small kitchen. The fridge has been cleaned out and restocked with a few new items. There are some eggs, apples, potatoes, and spinach. She goes into the cupboards though and makes the oatmeal instead. She can't be bothered for anything else.

 

She won't take a pill yet she thinks. No she will wait, it's too early now. The sun isn't even fully risen when she's done cleaning up after herself. So she sits in the chair pulls out a book and reads.

 

By the time there is a knock on the door the sun has been up for hours. There is a second than the door opens and Negan steps inside.

 

“Morning Princess.” He doesn't step in the room. Only means on the door frame watching her. “Come one now take that pill.”

 

Standing she's already at the table where the little bottle waits. Popping the bottle open she swallows one dry, she's had practice medicating herself.

 

By the time they are outside in the courtyard the pills have already kicked in. It’s xanax her old favorite. She wonders if Negan knows what this does to people. He must have asked the doctor for the best way to keep her calm. She remembers being at the hilltop almost killing that man for hurting Abraham. She is more wild , it’ s good no one gives her weapons.

 

Negan keeps her beside him as they move through the lines of trucks.  They are taking so many, she tried to count the men to see how many cars and trucks they are taking with him. Three trucks line the gate opening. The first is a flatbed, blue cab dulled with age. Eugene is standing up there beside him there is something secured under a trap.

 

In all this time she had forgotten he was here. Negan had said his name a few times, but she had never had the chance to visit with him. Now he stood up there in their truck black jacket and a mega phone in his hand. They look at each other for a few long seconds.  

 

“ Come on now Princess that’s not our ride. Everyone's been waiting for you.”

 

Behind the blue flatbed truck is a small black arm style truck. Dwight sits in the front seat fingers drumming on the steering wheel. There is another green truck behind them. Men load into the trucks, some others take cars off to the sides and leave before than.

 

Negan gets into the truck first then offers a hand to help her get in as well . She sits between him and the door of the truck. He’ s so warm , like Daryl used to be. It makes her relax, loosens the muscles in her back. She blames the drugs too, blames them for the ease she feels here in close quarters.

 

She sees the walls of Alexandria before she knows it, it's eerie and quiet. Small figures dot the top the walls, they are ready and waiting.

 

“This better fucking work.” Negan mumbles  tucking his scarf into the leather jacket. His hand comes up then brushes some of her hair away from her face. “Look alive Princess.”

 

“ All points are covered . Every contingency is already met . I come armed with two barrels of the truth. A test is upon you and I am giving out the cheat sheet.”

 

Under her they are rolling to a stop Pandora catches Eugene on the truck bed microphone held to his mouth now. He had been the one talking. He is trying to convince Alexandria to stand down.

 

She wonders what it would take for that to happen. For Rick to bow his head and get with the program. Maybe nothing. Negan had killed Glenn and Abraham. For a while that had been enough, but something changed. Negan killed more people and Rick wouldn't stand for it.

 

“Get that door for me will you Princess.”

 

Pandora reaches out fingers finding the handle and pulling. She gets out first hands in tight little fist at her sides, Negan comes to stand beside her. He takes her elbow pulling her forward with him. They stand out in the open just behind Eugene speaking on the cab. He doesn’t look back only keeps talking.  

 

“Hello. I come salved with the hope that it was my dropped knowledge . Options are zero to none. Compliance and fealty are your only escape. Bottom lining it. You may thrive or you may die. I sincerely wish for the former. For everyone’s sake.”

 

She blinks her gaze drifts to Negan. He’s watching Rick from where they hide behind the truck, eyes trained to up above the wall. She follows his gaze as well Rick looks pained, she tries to look for Daryl scanning the other faces around her. She doesn’t see him, she see’s Carl though gun up and at the ready. His face is all rage and hard lines, it's misplaced on such a young face.

 

“The jig is up and in full effect. Will you comply, Rick?”

 

There is a few moments of tense silence. Pandora’s gaze is moving again back to Rick. How does he decide who will die in war? Has Sacha already been lumped in with her, the ones who have been deemed unsaveable.

 

“Where is Negan?”

 

A heartbeat than she is opening her mouth, “I am Negan.” Rick can’t hear her, can’t even see her from where they stand hidden behind the trucks. Eugene's voice echoes her own. They know the answer. They always know the answer.

 

The surrounding air is so silent that she can hear the rustling of clothes. A twist and crane of her neck allows Pandora the smallest view of the front gate. She spots Rosita, every muscle in the small frame seems pulled tight. Pandora wants to go to her, to tell her that’s it ok. It's easy like this. It is. Just do what Negan says and your safe and so is everyone you love.

 

Rosita isn't looking at her though she is looking at Rick who nods his head just so.

 

“Watch this Princess.” Negan leans down to whisper in her ear. Rick dips out of sight but nothing happens. “Motherfucker was expecting a loud bang.” He laughs swinging Lucie up over his head and throwing his other arm over her shoulder.

 

Above them the walls explode with movements figures she doesn’t know stands up guns pointed on her friends. The gate is opening than and Negan is stepped away from the truck walking towards the opening. There is movement behind her the opening of a truck. She is moving with him, the how or the why gone it is just happening.

 

Negan strides through the front gate keeping Eugene directly in front of him.. He shifts her lightly so most of her frame was tucked away under his arm. She didn’t say anything just moves where he wanted too, following still.

 

“You ever hear the one about the stupid little prick named Rick who thought he knew shit, but didn’t know shit and got everyone he that gave a shit about killed.” Negan grins now letting his arm drop away from her shoulder in a swinging motion. “It’s about you.”  

 

“Ya’ll are gonna want to put your guns down now.”

 

“No one drop anything.” Rick’s growl sounds from all the way up there.

 

Pandora wonders if Negan will kill her if she will be the example the lesson they need to learn. She isn’t sure of the impact it will have, maybe on Daryl. And then by extension everyone else. She would die if it meant someone else gets to live. There is something happening on the top of the wall, a conversation she can’t hear.

 

“You push me, and you push me, and you push me Rick.” Negan grins while he speaks.

 

Pandora turns to Negan who is shaking his head, “You just tired to to blow us up, right?”

 

Negan turns reaching his hand out for her, she steps up towards him letting put his arm around her waist. There is madness in his eyes, the kind she's seen a few times before.   

 

“I mean, I get me, my people.  But Eugene and Pandora? Their your people. After what they did? They stepped up fell into line. You people are animals. The universe gives you a sign and you just .” The hand over her shoulders lifts she pictures the gesture he is making.  “Shove your finger right up his ass. Dwight Simon chop chop .”

Dwight and Simon walk past them jumping on the flatbed of the truck. Under the cover is a bright silver coffin, somewhere under the drugs there is panic. But it never grows never reaches her. Her eyes move to the gate, and then her breath was stuck in her chest. She hadn’t seen Daryl before. But there he is one so close she could see the energy coming off him. Daryl stood near the front gate his crossbow lowered to the ground. He catches her eye holding her gaze with him, even under the drugs she feels a tug of her heart.

 

“So you don’t like Pandora or Eugene anymore.” Negan’s voice draws her attention back to him, he is on the flatbed now standing beside the coffin. “You gotta like Sacha. I do, too. Got her right here packaged for your convenience alive and well. Now I brought her so I wouldn't have to kill all of you.”

 

Pandora wavers on her feet for a second, the sun is too hot. It beats down on her with unrelenting heat. The drugs make everything feel so muddled and she was slipping into the mess of it all.

 

“You alright there Princess?” Dave’s voice finds her, she realized he is right behind her. Blinking she looks back at him, he has his hand on her gun eyes trained to Negan with the occasional glance in her direction.

 

Pandora doesn't answer, not sure she had the words in her she only nods. Her eyes are drawn back up to Negan.

 

“And not killing all of you could get complicated. See I know there’s a lot of fire power left in there Rick. So I’m gonna make this simple. I want all the guns you managed to scrape up. Yep, I know about those, too. I want every grain of lemonade you have left. I want a person of your own choosing for Lucille.”

 

Pandora shivers closes her eyes for a moment and just stands there. At one time there would have been panic, now she knows better. She doesn't feel it, not panic, not fear, not rage nothing. She hates those little white pills sometimes, hates how easy Negan gives them to her.

 

“Daryl.” Negan says his name and her eyes snap open searching for him right away. “Oh, I gotta get me my Daryl back. I see you, Princess over here is lonely without you. And the pool table and all the pool cues and the chalk. And I want it now or Sasha dies.”

 

Pandora takes a shuddering breath she hasn’t stopped looking at Daryl yet, and he hasn’t stopped staring at her either. From the edge of the vision she watches his hand tightened into a fist shaking. She wants that same rage but can’t find it, she still feels the ache in her chest though at seeing him. That might be something that never goes away, not matter how much of herself she loses he will always be her home.

 

“ And then all of you, Probably .” Negan’s tone is light. Rick hasn't spoken yet she can’t see him but knows he is silent. Her eyes never leave Daryl’s. “Come on Rick just because she came in a casket doesn't mean she has to leave in it.”

 

Still there is silence. Something in Pandora snaps, she steps forward hearing Dave move with her. She reaches out for the edge of the flatbed pulling herself onto it and stepping up to Negan’s side.

 

“Rick please don’t do this.” Her voice is clear and loud. She says Rick’s name, but she is looking at Daryl. “It’s not supposed to end like this.”

 

Beside her Negan reaches out and arm over shoulder pulling her closer to him. “See that Rick you are upsetting my Princess, not that you care. You try to blow her up and she is still trying to save your sorry ass.” Negan signs rubs his forehead and laughing a little. “You know what? You suck ass Rick. You really do. I don't want to have to kill her but that's what you’re going to make me do.”

 

“Let me see her.” Rick finally speaks. When he does its like her chest is just a bit looser. Pandora can breathe for a moment, everyone is alive

 

“Oh, ok. Give me a second get her up to speed. You can’t hear shit in this thing.” Negan turns away from her taping the coffin with Lucille in his hand. “Sash. You not going to believe this crap.”

 

Pandora doesn’t more doesn’t blink. Daryl licks his lips as he watches her, he steps forward only a fraction before a gun is poking him in the back to keep him still.

 

The scene around her explodes than into noise and chaos. The moment he opens the coffin he screams. It’s not Sasha in there anymore though, it’s a dead thing wearing her skin. Pandora doesn't understand for a second why was she in there. He said just now she was alive why would he do that? What happened?

 

She doesn’t really see what’s happening, but she hears the exploding gun fire. Because Dave is right beside her pulling her backwards screaming at her to get down. Pandora struggles against him but he’s strong hand gripping her shirt. She watches Negan run from the top of the flat bed. Her world is shifting too she's being pulled down from the flat bed.

 

“Pandora!” Someone is shouting her name, she can’t tell who though. Her ears are ringing from all the gunfire around them . Dave pulls her down to her knees forcing her head to the floor.

 

 Around her she can hear shouting and screaming. The air smells like blood, but she isn’t afraid. She struggles against Dave tries to move her head and see what's going on. She can hear people shouting and firing.

 

“Stay down!” Dave growls over her. “Negan! Negan! I have her!”

 

Suddenly her head is being lifted, Negan’s hands are on her chin looking at her.

 

“Anything hurting Princess?” He asks tilting her head to the side.

 

“No, no” She whispers. “Sasha you said, you said she alive than, then she wasn’t” Panic is boiling water now, there is not enough of the drugs in her system to bring her back down.

 

“I know Princess. I didn’t do that, it’s not how I roll.”

 

She’s walked inside the gates of Alexandra. Most of the people are down on their knees guns pointed at their heads. She stumbled over her own feet trying to stay up right

There are people she has never seen before as well , silent figures dresses mostly in black.

 

Dave stands behind her hand on his gun.

“We stay here.” He says when he catches her watching Rick being led to where Negan waits with Carl on his knees.

 

A sick feeling rolls in her stomach. Its mild though. She's floating on a crowd on drugs. It's better this way, Negan is going to kill someone right now, and she is going to watch. Like she has to watch with the Doctor.

 

Watching Negan stands in front of Carl, Lucille is in his hands. She knows who is next, he is going to kill Carl. It won't work. Killing Carl won't break Rick, she knows that.

 

Pandora steps away from Dave moving for Negan. Slipping up beside him she touches his arm gently .

 

“Princess? Have Dave take you back to the truck. I have business with Rick.”

 

Pandora shakes her head leaving her hand on his shoulder. The prolonged touch makes him turn to look down at her.

“It won't work.” She whispers. Negan doesn't answer only raises an eyebrow at her so she continues. “Killing Carl won't break him.”

 

“You can do it right in front of me. You can take my hands. I told you already -- I'm gonna kill you. All of you..” Rick has tears in his eyes by his voice holds strong. Pandora looks at him her own eyes swimming with tears.
“Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow but nothing is gonna change that -- nothing. You're all already dead.”

Negan shakes his head, flicks his fingers over his shoulder.

 

“Dave get her the fuck out of here. This is no place for her.”

 

Pandora only sighs letting her hand drop as she turns away.

 

Dave takes her back to the car they came in. He doesn't go in just puts her in the seat and shuts the door behind her. It only takes her a few moments to get lost in the haze of drugs. Face pressed against the cold window she lets the tears fall down her cheeks. She cries for Sasha wonders if Abraham is happy to see her where he has been waiting. She cries for Carl too thinking he must be dead by now.

 

The next thing she knows the door is being ripped over and someone is shouting.

 

“God fucking damn it DRIVE," Negen is next to her now screaming. “ Go! GO . Get down Princess come on now.”

 

He reaches for her pushing her down onto his chest. She can still hear the gun fire ringing out around them.

 

“These fucking assholes! God fucking damn it!” Negan rages above her hands gripping her shoulders, bones grinding together at the pressure. He continues to rage as they drive screaming and shouting, Pandora tries to drown him out.

Notes:

So??? Thoughts? questions? Concerns? Well we all have concerns, shit even I have concerns about where this is going lmao! I promise I still love Pandora but I also love her dynamic with Negan I can't help it!

Chapter 43: The Returned

Notes:

oh hi, I wrote a thing. Tell me what you think!

On his knees, the second time Daryl thinks about seeing Pandora, just now. The empty look in her eyes when she stared at him, at. She had pleaded with them, begging them all to serve him as she serves him. A cold rage had boiled inside him when he watched Negan touch her. Negan hides her in the curve of his arms as if he was the one protecting her. Negan was the one she needed to be protected from he would never hurt her. But, he almost did hurt her. He knew about the van filled with explosives, even with seeing her he still let Rick give the order. That was on him. Still watching Pandora step into Negan’s arms filled him with hot rage nothing but white hot rage.

He has no right to be angry he knows; he remembers what he told her that day huddled in the truck. To stay alive and wait for him. He hadn’t come through, the day he got away he didn't come that was on him. It was impossible to get to her that day, not in the state he had been in. Jesus had said as much, promised he would help find a way to get her but today was not the day they did that.

Logic was great, but it did not ease the hole in his chest at the thought of leaving her behind. No matter how many times he tried to rationalize actions there was always the guilt. It had eaten away at him since the day he left; he was harsher more short tempered. Daryl had left her with Negan, the first opportunity he had he had run, without her. It some something he would spend the rest of his life making up to her.

At least out here he had done this, attempted to get her back to kill the man keeping her. It hadn’t worked and when gunfire exploded the first time he had to suffer through watching her get dragged away a second time.

He looks for her now from the ground, lets his eyes wander over the saviours. Daryl doesn't see her though, wonders what happened to her. Hopes she isn't bleeding somewhere from a stray bullet. He knows Negan is talking he sees him leaning over Rick, but all Daryl can hear is the blood boiling in his ears. She’s gone somewhere in the panic, Negan had managed to get Pandora way from him again.

Then around him everything changes, he sees a flash of orange and black, hears men screaming. Shots are going off again and he is on his feet faster than he realizes a gun already in his hands. He fires again if it moves he put a bullet in it. From the edges of his vision be spots Maggie and men from the Hilltop behind him.

“Phalanx out, the third group, now!”

“Move up! Now we got your backs!” Daryl is shouting and moving as he does so. He never stops firing either.

He follows Negan thinking where he is Pandora might be, at his side. That’s all he thinks about finding her, in the chaos and gunfire he can find a moment to get to her. Negan moves too fast for him though, and Daryl is running now. He runs for the gate following the backs of Negan’s men as they try to disappear through the smoke.

The gate is shut when he gets there though, something tied around the lock to jam is closed. So. he follows those garbage motherfuckers up the ladder to the garbage truck. If he can just see her, just make sure Pandora made it. But the trucks are already too far down the road, and she’s gone.

He takes a moment sits on the top of the wall take a few deep shuddering breaths. It hurts more this time, watching her disappear. More than all the other times he got only a glimpse of her in the Sanctuary. It takes a few moments before he knows his eyes are clear enough to get down to face everyone.

Maggie stands by the gate, she’s breathing hard hand on her knees. He stands beside her for a second.

“Ah lost her again.” He whispers eyes on the open road in front of them.

“We will get her back, I promise. We will end this and bring her home.”

Daryl only nods, next time it’s her above everything.

 

Pandora is still hunkered down to almost the floor when Alexandria is long gone,, he pulls her up into the seat. The drive back is tense Negan rages and plans, calling out on the walkies to whoever he left behind. When they roll into the gates, she thinks she will be taken back to her room.

Instead, Negan wraps his hand around her upper arm, “With me Princess”

The world is still seems a touch out of focus, but she walks with him. They go up a set of stairs. Under her, she can hear the thumb of people, but she doesn't look down. She blinks looking down at her feet. Negan had lost, he had to run. Rick had won the first battle in the war, and Negan is not happy.

What will happen to her now? Why keep her alive if he knows Rick doesn't care if she lives or not.

They are heading out to the back of the building. Pandora has been down here before her room faces this side of the Sanctuary. The back entrance where most of their cars and trucks come and go. The drugs still swim in her veins she is too calm for someone who may be walking to her death.

“Everyone is on blue just say the word and they are ready to go.”

“That's good.”

Pandora realizes Negan has let her go, but she continues to follow beside him. They stand near a balcony. With a blink, she reaches out for Negan her hand resting on his arm. The leather of his jacket is warm, it’s the arm he had hanging outside of the truck. Her fingers curl around his forearm sucking up the warmth that sits there.

“Negan? Are you going to kill me now?” The question isn't one that holds any kind of emotion. She asks it.

Negan looks at her in a flash the rage is gone from his face. There is a soft look in his eyes. His hand reaches out stocking her cheek touch feather light.

“Oh no, Princess. I'm not going to kill you. Why would you say that?”

There is a heartbeat of stiffness in her muscles then she is relaxing resting her head on his palm. “You said Sacha was alive and then she wasn't.” She assumed she was next kill her and send her back to Alexandria as a message. It had been a trick with Sacha too hadn’t it that is the only thing that makes sense

“I know Princess and I'm sorry that happened.” He sounds sorry she thinks as she looks at him. Eyes searching his own. “How the hell do you think she wound up dead in that box?”

Negan didn’t kill Sacha, she doesn’t know why, but she knows he is telling the truth. Negan lets his hand drop from her face when he turns to look back at Eugene. Is he worried about dying as well? She can't help but think she will still die. Eugene might think the same. Pandora knows what he is doing, his survival plan differs from her own. He is trying to make himself important, too important to die. Like before, she remembers that story. Eugene lied to everyone pretending he was a doctor who could save then all. That earned him protection had people following him to keep him safe.

“My, um, best possible points fingers at the tarp. That sealed up said box good and tight. She ran out of air.” Eugene answer seems unsure.

Ran out of air. That sentence knocks around in her brain. She pictures Sasha trapped in the darkness struggling to breathe. It's a terrible thing to picture. She hopes that's not what happened Sacha deserved better. Must be happy now, happy with Abraham wherever people go.

Before the world exploded, she studied the Viking idea of heaven Valhalla where you go to dine with the God’s after a warrior's death. It doesn't seem like it, but she thinks everyone now would go to Valhalla. If you were left in this world you were a warrior and anyway you die is with honour.

“Princess?”

Negan is right beside her leaning down his face filling her vision. He has that look on his face that everyone used to get when they had been talking to her for a while. Blinking a few times she tries to focus on him again.

“What?” She’s trying to bring her head back, trying to remember what he had just said.

“You want to go back to your room?”

Her room? No she doesn't want to go there. In her room, she's alone, really alone. No way to tell what thoughts will spring into her head then. It’s better to be with people, with Negan. It’s better to be with Negan, so he can watch out for her.

She is tired though, drugs pulling heavy at her eyelids now that she has a moment to breathe. She doesn't want to hear them plan to wipe out the people she used to call her family.

“I’m tired.” She mumbles rubbing her hands over her eyes now.

“Dave?” Negan snaps his fingers, behind her Dave appears. “Take her back to her room. Then find Frankie and have her keep the Princess company.”

“Come on than Pandora.”

Dave takes her elbow, she doesn’t flinch away from him. Instead, Pandora lets him lead her back toward her room. They walk up a few flights of stairs, and only when they have been alone for some time does he speak.

“You didn’t try to escape today.” Dave makes the comment off-handed throwing a glance her way.

Pandora glances at him stopping for a second in her tracks than she keeps moving with him. That wasn’t even a thought that had crossed her mind. Maybe it should have, but it didn't. There had been nowhere for her to go. Besides Rick had tried to blow her up, on that platform he had given the order. She wouldn't have survived that blast.

“I have nowhere else to go.”

“You could have tried to go back to them, your people.”

Pandora only shrugs she could have tried, but she didn't what did that say about her. She had thought she was a fighter, some time ago. It feels like a lifetime ago, really. She had tried to become what Daryl was, someone who could take care of themselves. Someone who would be useful to them, but she wasn’t. That wasn’t who she was.

They don't speak again as they walk to her room. Dave takes her silence as an indicator to stop the conversation. She finds it interesting that he thinks she would run. Where would she even go where Negan couldn’t find her?

The hallways are abuzz with activity people move past them with all kinds of things. Food, weapons other supplies.
‘They are going to war.’ \there is no mistaking it as anything but getting ready. She wonders what Alexandria looks like right now. Are they getting ready for war, or they already ready?

In the hallway, Frankie stands in front of the door to Pandora’s room. She is dressed in all black, legs made long by black heels. A sigh escapes her she had forgotten Negan was going to send her. All Pandora wanted to do now was sleep and forget this whole day.

But Frankie smiles and dips her head, eyes sweeping the floor under her feet. Pandora can see that her hands are shaking, as hard as Frankie is trying to hide it.. She has to be here as much as Pandora does, the same fear Pandora has Frankie has. What might happen if Pandora turned her away, refused to allow Frankie to keep her company?

“Hey, Pandora,” Frankie's voice is a hushed whisper. “Someone is bringing food.”

Dave pauses for a second a glance flicking between them both. Pandora stops in front of her door, waiting. Dave opens the door and lets them both inside, he shuts and locks it behind him.

Pandora stands there just for a moment, just taking a second or two to breathe.

“You should sit.” Frankie gestures towards the bed.

With a shrug she shifts her weight and heads for the bed. Her back against the pillows she pulls her knees to her chest. Frankie gets one of the chairs from the window and turns it around to face the bed. Frankie doesn’t relax the way Pandora does she sits leaning back only a fraction, her legs crossed.

“Thank you.” Pandora whispers. As much as she didn’t want the other women here at first now she is grateful for the company. Soon everything will be too loud and too hard, so right now she doesn't want to be alone.

“I heard about what happened with your friends.” Frankie looks down at her hands curled into a ball in her lap. “I’m sorry.”

“I kept most of them safe.” She whispers running her fingers through her thick hair, best to keep her hands busy. Pandora had tried too stood up on the bed of the truck and begged them to stand down. She just wanted them to understand, it wasn’t bad this was the only way. If you fight you die, she didn’t want anyone to die.

“You did. You are doing the right thing.”

 

Pandora believes her. But part of her is so sick watching herself bend and break so easily. Hardly work to mould her into any shape he wanted. He does it so easy too already has her praising being in his service. It is easy like this. Easier to just do not think, to lay everything at Negan's feet so she can keep going.

A knock on the door breaks the odd silent moment they have fallen into together. Pandora curls up a little bit tighter, Frankie gets up to answer it.

“Thank you, Robert!” Frankie grins at the man at the door taking the plates from the young man standing at her door now.

“No problem Frankie,” He flashes her a grin ducking his head. “I’ll be outside if you need anything.”

Their voices lower and she can’t catch the rest of their conversation. The door shuts then and Frankie heads back to the bed. Pandora holds out her hands taking the plate from her. They eat in silence now, the only sounds are their forks scraping on the plates.

She’s eating grilled chicken on a salad mixed with fresh fruit and nuts. It’s amazing, the food here always is. When both of their plates are empty Frankie gets up to take them to the sink.

The drugs are swimming in her veins still pulling her down deeper, eyelids heavy with sleep. It’s always hard coming down from the pills, the higher you go the further you fall. Pandora is falling hard, her blinks becoming long and slow.

“Hey you can go to sleep, I’ll keep you company.” Frankie smiles and shifts in her chair tucking her legs under her body. Her posture is relaxing Pandora can see that much.

Pandora can’t argue with her, knows it is no use. “Ok,” She pulls the sheet off the bed. It’s cool between the fresh sheets, she’s grateful for it. The cool touch helps to ground her wakes her up a little more just for a second.

“Thank you, Frankie.”

Then she is gone slipping away into darkness.

In the woods, the wolves come for her, but all of them wear the faces of Negan’s men. Robert stumbles forward a W carved into his forehead, he grins at her reaching for her. His hand closes on his shoulder, the under one reached between her legs fingers searching. A scream rips through her she kicks at him pitching her body to the side, more men materialize behind her holding her steady. She isn’t screaming anymore, instead she sobs for Negan.

Negan appears then, materializes from the darkness. Lucille in his hands he swings hard, bat connecting with the side of his face. He swings again and again until she is free sinking to the ground on her knees.

He laughs as he reaches for her, shaking his head at her. His hand takes her, “Come one Princess, I got you.”

When she snaps awake someone she shaking her. Pandora screams again and bucks trying to throw the weight off. She pictures hands on arms, feels the heat of mouths on her skin. Screaming again she tries to lift her arms nothing but a grunt and an increase in pressure on her.

“Hey, hey come now Princess.”

A light flicks on behind her illuminating Negan’s figure in front of her. His hands are wrapped around her upper arms, keeping her still. She had been dreaming. She had fallen asleep The scream dies in the throat then, changing to a broken sob when it passed through her lips.

“There you are Princess, it’s just a nightmare.” Negan hasn’t let her go yet, instead, he pulls her forward. Her head is now resting on his chest. His head beat thunders in her ears, it drowns out the rest of the noise in her head.

Her frame relaxes against him going limp in his arms, he relaxes his hold on her arms and wraps his arms around her instead. The gesture should bother her she should

“I, I, I,” Pandora wants to explain it to him. Tell him his men were the wolves in her nightmares now. She can’t get the words out though, they are all jumbled in her throat.

“Shhh,” He coos. “It’s all right Princess.”

There is a muffles conversation behind her, she can’t make out the words. Not that she cares, she can’t concentrate on it. The rumble of his voice calms here. Reminds her of Daryl holding her still while she screams. By the time she has stopped crying and calmed down Negan is breathing deeply and beside her. Sunlight streams through her windows now, casting long shadows on the floor.

‘He’s sleeping.’ She thinks opening her eyes. Pandora didn't even notice him falling asleep beside her, maybe she dozed off for a few moments as well. She must have, there is a feeling of missing time. He felt safe enough around her to sleep, she had done the same. A few long minutes pass where she doesn’t move, just lays there still.

This is not where she ever imagined she would end up, here sleeping bed with Negan beside her. She’s half under the covers, everything from her waist down is under the heavy blanket. Her top half is exposed half turned and turned into Negan’s side.

Beside her he grunts in his sleep, colour creeps up her face. This is not where she should be curled next to a madman. It about twenty steps to the bathroom she can make it without waking him. If she heads for the bathroom though she will come out and he will still be there. She needs airspace to clear her head sort through whatever the fuck is going on.

The picture in her mind is so clear now. She is there on the roof, sun shining down on her. Holding her breath, she slips from the bed. She is still wearing her tights, her sweater is laying on the floor. Pulling it on she heads for the door. She knocks threes times all quick. When the door opens Dave is back, that makes her sigh in a way of relief.

“I need to go to the roof.” she doesn't give him a chance to speak hopes the desperation in her eyes is enough to make it happen. Dave must know Negan is in there, has to. “Please.”

She thinks he will refuse her but the please must have been just convincing enough because he opens the door wider. She doesn’t miss the way his eyes travel from the top of her head to her toes. Or the sharp glance behind her trying to see Negan.

“Shoes.” He says jerking his head to her bare feet.

Panic is a bright flash, she doesn’t remember where she left them.

“Right there.” Dave jerks his head to the left bringing her attention back to him. He seems flustered eyes darting back and forth from her to the bed.

“He's not dead.” Pandora snaps annoyance building in her gut.

He’s right though her shoes are sitting to the left of the door. She tugs them on she is out the door quickly. It closes silently behind her she holds her breath for a second. But the door remains closed, and there isn't a sound from the other side. She's free.

Notes:

Let me know what you think?? Please? lol!

Chapter 44: Settling in

Notes:

I love writing this good lord. I love this chapter too, it's such a turning point for Pandora.

The rooftop greenhouse is hot, walls and roof of glass doing their job to keep the heat trapped. Pandora sits with her legs tucked under her on one of the plush sofas. The sun shifts above her head, one ray cutting right into her eye. Shutting them she drapes her arm over her face for extra protection.

 

She was unguarded up here Dave had left the moment they arrived. He had mumbled something about telling Negan where they were. She hadn't given him much of and answer, just a shrug of her shoulders before walking away.

 

It’s easier to think up here, alone away from Negan. There is a war inside her head and around him she can’t hear , can’t make sense of which side is winning.  But here, she can think, can look at herself and know this isn't right. It is easy though. How is the right thing not also is the easy thing? In the beginning she was nothing but rage and violence. Negan had worn her down, over the span of days he had broken her.

 

They had spent the night together sleeping in the same bed; she had felt safe enough to sleep. Her fingers reach for her hair, tugging her way through the knots she finds. It’s a sweet sharp little pain that brings her back to this moment. She shouldn’t be surprised that this was how she ended up, she was hardly a whole person before Negan took her. If he had taken anyone else, it would have been different if it had been Rosita of Michonne they would have been fighting even now.

 

Pandora had been bent and broken. Reshapen to become such a good girl.  

 

“Negan said you didn’t eat.” The voice is an unwelcome interruption to her thoughts. Pandora tries and fails to hide how she jumps at the sound. Between her and door there is a woman, holding a steaming bowl. The women is tall and thin, her hair is almost hidden under a bandana but a few tight curls peek out. “Names Arat we’re going to be training I guess. Hand to hand.”

 

Pandora’s brain struggles for a second. Then she remembers that night when she told him she had been learning how to fight for herself. How fighting seems to keep her ever present demons at bay for a time.

 

“ You have to eat first.” The woman comes toward her when she is close enough she hands her the bowl.

 

“Ok, thank you” The spoon is in her hand, and in the bowl is a mix of veggies and eggs.

 

“I heard about you. Heard you lost your shit and killed some of my guys.”

 

Spooning eggs into her mouth she shrugs her shoulders, “ Probably .”

 

She had come so far in her time here, not since the beginning has she killed any of the people here. There is an order now, and she knows it. The men she had hurt had tried to hurt her first anyway, they should have known better.

 

Arat rolls her head and the joints crack. “How the fuck did this happen.” Arat glares at her shaking her head.

 

“I can ask for someone else.” Pandora can’t see how spending any time with this foul woman is going be helpful.   

 

“Just fucking eat.” Arat tells her, face softening.

 

The empty bowl is left on the table as Pandora stands to follow Arat back inside.

 

“There's a room to work out inside.”

 

From the roof they walk down two flights of stairs all the way down the hall to the end of the sanctuary. The halls are more packed here, and Pandora recognizes these are the men and women of Negan's army.

 

Arat opens a door to their right, it looks just like a gym. The floor is covered in soft padding, they remind her of the mats in the gyms she used to work out in.  There are two rows of free weights, benches set up around to use. They even have a few stationary bikes in the corner. The rest of the space is empty with a thicker padding on the floor.

 

There is always a certain level of absurdity here. The things that she finds housed inside these walls make this place seem unreal to her at times. Where would anyone even find stationary workout bikes. Who took the time to create this room in the middle of all of this shit.

 

Arat is already stretching when Pandora had finished looking at the room. Pandora did the same trying her best to stretch the way she used too. Her body isn't the same anymore it didn't move how she remembers it. Now everything is stiff and slower, her body protests when it moves and turns a certain way.

 

“Are you ready?”

 

Pandora knobs and steadies herself.

 

Arat and Rosita are very different. Rosita is harsh, but it comes from a place of love.  Arat is all shouting and swearing, training seems like a burden to her. Arat doesn't wait for Pandora to catch her breath, or get up, she keeps coming. She hits her too like she means it, not tempering her strength at all.

 

An hour later Pandora is laying on the floor, lungs struggling to fill. Everything hurts, her right side pounds steadily. She can picture the bruise darkening on her skin as she lays there. Her head is pounding from an elbow to the temple she did not dodge in time. She has let herself slip too far away, her body isn’t being taken care of.

 

“I don't think the point was to kill me.” Pandora hisses through her clenched teeth. She curls into a ball trying to stretch her back as much as possible.

 

“She speaks!” Arat is shaking her head her laugher ringing out harsh. Arat is pulling off her bandana pulling her hair into a tight bun on the top of her head.

 

Pandora only rolls her eyes and stands, the movement has her muscles screaming. Arat isn't lying Pandora had hardly said three words the entire time. She had put everything she had into getting her body moving there was no time to talk or even think about talking. It was a good feeling not thinking about anything.

 

“If I wanted you dead, you would be dead.” Arat has a water bottle she is holding out to Pandora now. Pandora has her own empty in only seconds.

 

“I’ll come back for you tomorrow.”

 

“Wait!”

 

Arat hasn't even gotten to the door when Pandora calls her to stop. A tendril of panic creeping up her spine.

 

“I don’t remember my way back.”

 

Arat stops turning, “ Really ?”

 

“It’s a big place.” A sense of shame curls in her gut when she speaks than. She never felt a need to pay attention, no one was letting her wander around, anyway.

 

“Oh fuck let’s go than.” Arat holds the door open and jerks her head to the hallway.

 

Pandora steps up behind her following close, the halls are more full this time. Men and women moved around the halls ways, they all have guns. Arat is a professional at moving between the bodies, Pandora bumps into more people than she misses.

They go down two more flights of stairs than to the left and the left again until she is standing in front of Dave. Whos is a silent figure holding her door open, trade one protector for another.

 

“See you tomorrow Pandora.”

 

Pandora only nobs slipping into her room and shutting the door.   Flicking on the light she stands frozen for a moment. Someone had been here, here in her room, while she was gone . Her bed had been changed, the white sheets replaced with all black bedding. It looks just like Negan's bed, she thinks stepping towards it.

 

Her mind wanders back that this morning as she strips. Pandora leaves her pants, shirt , tank top and sports bra on the floor. Half dressed in a t-shirt and sweats she slips under the bed than pulling the blankets over her. The silk is cold and slippery on her skin, and before she knows it she’s sleeping.

 

When she dreams something is different. She’s in the line up like always, but the men are different. The wolves stand around her, weapons in hand. A man she remembers is standing above her with the bat. This time Negan is in front of her, arms around her hiding her in his chest.

 

“It’s ok I got you Princess.”

 

He has her, his arms around her block out the world, narrowing her view to nothing but his chest. She can hardly even hear the bat with him holding her like that.

 

“I keep you safe Princess.”

 

That is the truth, one thing she can always count on is that he takes care of her. Negan has never hurt her, the box that had been her own fault. She had made him too that to her, a mistake she would not make again.

 

The real world finds her only a few hours later, skin covered in a second layer of sweat. It smells sick, maybe she needs to see the new doctor. The cloths she had been wearing smell, stiff from the sweating she had done in her sleep. Her dreams might have been more like nightmares but she had woken up and not been screaming, it had been a while since that happened.

 

Her muscles are tight and sore, she knows better than the sleep after a workout.

 

“Too late for that now.” She mutters to herself heading for the bathroom. Turning on the shower she cranks it as hot as if goes, peeling off her clothes as steam fills the room. The water isn't as hot here as it was in Alexandria, but it’s enough. The bathroom was her favourite place, the water gave her a deep sense of calm. There had been a time where she turned into a sobbing mess in the shower.

 

The water used to feel like millions of tiny hands, fingers spreading all over her skin. Now this was one of her places she felt completely calm. In the warm shower the water grounds her, reminds her to feel her body. Funny how things happen.

 

The drawers in her room as always filled with fresh clean clothes. Everything she has looks new, she dressed in dark wash jeans, and an oversized white sweater. In the early days her closet had looks more like Negan’s wives, she had rebelled wearing layer upon layer. Now she is better taken care of, with clothes that match her style.

 

Cabinets under the sink is stocked with hygiene products. Lotions, soaps, hair products anything she might need. Today she uses everything Negan had given her. She uses the lotions and lovingly coats each of her curls in product. The absurdity of this moment is not lost on her though. That she can be here, in a bathroom with running water styling her hair.

 

In her main room her stomach does a twist, which reminds her she can’t quite remember the last time she had something to eat. There is a box of mac and cheese in her kitchen, it seems easy enough. Now she does have to read the instructions with care, housekeeping was not her strong point. She never cooked in Alexandria either, Carol would feed them or Daryl.

 

“Add milk.” Pandora reads draining the water from the pot of cooked pasta. “Fuck I don’t have milk.” Her fridge indeed has no milk in it. There had been a cow here before, it might have been eaten by the dead. She goes with water, her only real option.

 

When it’s finished, she is too hungry to clean the kitchen first. Instead she leaves everything out and takes her bowl to the little table. From her chair she can still see outside, she can’t see the people on the group but she can see the area around the Sanctuary.

 

Her view stretches out for miles, her room isn't on the top floor but she is at least six or seven levels up. She can see beyond the fence and the road

 

Half way through the bowl there is a knock on the door. For a second her brain trips on itself trying to think of who would knock. She had seen Negan this morning, and he doesn’t knock. Sherry the only of his wives who seemed to care about her was gone .

 

A second knock rings out this one louder as if maybe she didn't hear the first one.

 

“Come in.” A few more bites of mac and cheese and the mouth and the bowl is empty.

 

When the door finally opens to Rob standing there, another man at his side. Pandora is frozen at the sink her hands holding a plate.

 

“New Doctors here to see you Princess.”

 

“I’m Doctor Carson!”

 

Pandora ignores him for a second her eyes shooting to Rob. They have a whole silent conversation in those seconds, can she trust this man. Rob holds her gaze for a second then nods slowly . He stands at the open door

 

“I remember you. Your people were with Jesus when he saved us.” Dr. Carson tries to smile but there is something in his face he seems to be trying to hide.

 

“They are not my people anymore.”

 

Her tone is final, ending whatever else he might have said. She does remember him. That day Jesus was taking them to the Hilltop, she had been hiding in the bathroom of the RV. They had come across a ruined car, but they had found everyone and gotten them home safe.

 

“Wait.” Moving to the chair at the table again she watches him tilting her head to the side just an inch. “Dr. Carson?” There had been another Doctor by that name, he had died screaming.

 

“The last Doctor was my brother.” There is no sound of emotion in voice, a tone he might use reading medical facts.

 

“I’m sorry.” It’s a wonder to have living family these days with the world upside down. To have someone taken from you, even when it needed to happen must have been hard.

 

Carson nods a movement she might have missed if she wasn't watching him so closely .

 

“I’m looking over his patients now, so I wanted to check in on you.” In his hands is a notebook she didn’t notice until then, it must be about the people he is looking after now. Of course she would be in that book. “How have you been feeling these days?”

 

“I’m doing good.”

 

Doctor Carson opens the books, flips to about the middle than look at her again. “There are quite a few medications listed here do you take all of them?”

 

Pandora gets up from her chair and heads to her night stand. She keeps all the pills here, save for maybe a bottle Negan might have in his room.

 

“I take them when Negan tells me I need them.” She carries the pills back him four little bottles in total. There is one that it almost full she checks the label, Imovane .

 

“You don’t take this one?” Dr. Carson asks pointing to the full bottle.

 

“No, I don’t like it.” She holds it out to him, sure there are other people who might need it more.

 

Shaking his head he makes no move to take it from her. “ I’ll have to check with Negan, for now let me see your wounds.”

 

Pandora is a good patient, so she strips off her sweater, her arms are painted with a few smattering of different coloured bruising.

 

Dr. Carson leaves his book on the table and gets up to examine her. “May I?” He wants to lift her shirt to see the knife wounds that he must know about.

 

As much as she would rather skip this part she nods, allowing him to lift her shirt and look.

 

“The bruising?” He asks trying his keep his tone light.

 

She knows what he thinks, he must assume that Negan has done it.

 

“I’ve been training, hand to hand.” It sounds like an excuse, much like falling down the stairs a reason an abused women might give for her bruising. “Negan would never let anyone hurt me.”

 

Dr. Carson nods at her, “Thank you. You can put your sweater back on.” He moved back to the other chair in the kitchen. “Well Pandora I’ m concerned about you doing hand to hand right now. You are almost dangerously underweight.”

 

Pandora shakes her heads, “I won’t stop training.”

 

“I wouldn’t ask you too, but I need you to bring your weight up.”  He stands pushing his chair in . “Come and see me next week ok?”

 

“Ok.”

 

He’s gone than shutting the door behind him, the empty room doesn't last for long soon Rob is opening the door again poking his head inside.

 

“All good?”

 

Pandora is still sitting at the table pulling her shirt down over head. “Yes.”

 

Rob nods slowly , “I’m out here for another hour than another guy is coming to stand here ok?”

 

Pandora only nods, he closes the door. She heads for the stove getting another bowl of the mac and cheese. She isn't full, and she isn’t hungry but she will not allow her training to be taken from her when she has just started.

 

With the kitchen clean and Pandora feeling overly full she takes the book she has been trying to read all week to the high-backed chairs at the window. The second she sits down it’s not where she wants to be sitting. It’s too stiff, and she is too full.

 

Instead she piles her pillows against the headboard of her bed and settles down into them.  For the first time since she had gotten here she gets lost in the book, like she used to. Hours pass and she finishes chapter after chapter.

 

The sun shifts in the sky dipping below the building to disappear behind the clouds, casting long shadows across the floor. She doesn't move often only to reach over and flick on the lamp when it begins to get too dark to see the pages.

 

When she reached the last few pages the door opens, she doesn't even need to look up she knows it’s him.

 

“Hey there Princess.”

 

Not raising her eyes she holds up her hand to silence him. There is a huff of breath from the other room, and for a second her heart trips over itself thinking she must have gone too far. Negan laughs though, and she sinks back into the page sounds sliding away again. The last page is beautiful and she sits for a moment taking it in, before leaving the book on the side table.

 

“What book? Good read?” Negan is sitting at the little kitchen table, legs stretched out in front of him crossed at the ankles.

 

“It’s called Brain on Fire, it was really good .” She leaves the comfort of her little pillow fort to join him at the table.

 

He brought her dinner, two bowls of steaming gnocchini covered in a rich red meat sauce. The words of the Doctor echo in her head when she starts eating . It’s like a hug from the inside, a warm feeling that spreads from her stomach outward.

 

“This is amazing.” She speaks when she finally takes a break from shoving the food in the mouth.  A curl has fallen forward, long enough it almost touches the bowl. Tucking it behind her ear she can feel his eyes on him when she looks up.

 

When she looks up Negan is watching her, a smile curling the edges of his mouth. There is a flash of heat in her chest, it spreads colouring the skin of her face.

“Oh Princess you are something else.” He shakes his head setting the fork down in his own empty bowl. “ Heard you had a busy day huh ?”

 

“Arat is trying to kill me,” Pandora mumbles into her fork as she chews. “The new Doctor is nice, I meet him today.”  

 

“Is that so?” Negan leans back in the chair, arom crossing over his chest. “ Maybe Arat is getting you back in shape.”

 

Negan is right, but Pandora still rolls her eyes and gets up. She goes to sit in the high backed chair at the window, tucking her legs under her she sinks in. Behind her there  is the sound of a chair on the floor, than again.

 

Negan sets the wine bottle and two glasses on the small round table between them. Than he is gone, and there is more sound this time by her bed. When he comes back he is covering her with a heavy knit blanket from the bed. Leaning in he tucks it in on the sides, breath ghosting her face as her eyes flutter closed.

 

“Wouldn’t want you to get cold.” He days as he settles down in how own chair.

 

“Thank you.”  She whispers as she shifts under the blanket.

 

This man confuses her, his mood turns on a dime and she can never be sure of the direction. He is sweet with her, she knows that. He hasn’t been mad at her since the box, she had been so good .

 

Her eyes are locked to him as he lowers himself into the opposite chair. The wine it already open, her pours them both a tall glass.

 

They drink together in silence for some time. Pandora lets the first glass swim in her veins, just watching him. Time passes and the hard lines on his face begin melting away. He's watching the sky, he is not seeing his through his eyes are miles away.

 

She tried to have another drink, but her glass is already empty. Reaching for the bottle she sees Negan ;s is too.

 

“More?” She asks shaking the bottle in her hands. Negan doesn't answer, reaching out she places a hand on his mar. “ Negan ?”

 

He jumps startled his eyes flicker down to her hand resting on his arm.

 

“Sorry? What did you say Princess?” His free hand moved to cover hers, a solid weight. There has always been something about pressure that she finds calming.

 

She is shocked into silence for only a second before she asks, “More wine?” She can finally ask feeling the muscles on her arm relax.

 

“Ya please.” He holds out his glass for her to fill. She watches him enough to know he likes it full almost to the rim. When she puts the bottle back on the table, slipping her hand out from under him she wrapped them around her mug.

 

“How do you have all this alcohol anyway. ” It has been something she has been wondering. Do people here make it? Do they find it?

 

Negan laughs sipping from the glass slowly . “People here make it, and I’m the boss so I get all the best shit. It’s the least they can do I save everyone here.”

 

Pandora only nods returning her gaze to her own cup. It is great wine, she has to admit. It’s rich and dark, the flavor of chocolate coating her tongue. She was never a wine drinker, never much of a drinker period. Gymnastics was her life, between that and school it didn't leave room for much else.

 

“I'm trying to save Rick the prick too, but he's so damn stubborn.”

 

Pandora blinks setting the glass back in her lap, “He doesn't understand. I tried to tell him to explain how easy it is. How much better.”

 

“You think it's better this way for you?”

 

“ Of course. ”  Her answer has no hesitation no hitch or catch in her voice when she speaks it. This should alarm her, but it doesn't she doesn't feel anything .

 

“ Interesting .”

 

“Rick will come here soon you know.” The wine is making her bold, or maybe she just is bold with him. There isn't a way to be sure.

 

“Oh I'm counting on it.”

Notes:

I'm sure you hate me! Sometimes I hate me but I can't help it. I love writing this super messed up relationship. Let me know what you think? You didn't think this was going to have a happy ending did you??

Chapter 45: Settling in

Notes:

I love writing this good lord. I love this chapter too, it's such a turning point for Pandora.

The rooftop greenhouse is hot, walls and roof of glass doing their job to keep the heat trapped. Pandora sits with her legs tucked under her on one of the plush sofas. The sun shifts above her head, one ray cutting right into her eye. Shutting them she drapes her arm over her face for extra protection.

 

She was unguarded up here Dave had left the moment they arrived. He had mumbled something about telling Negan where they were. She hadn't given him much of and answer, just a shrug of her shoulders before walking away.

 

It’s easier to think up here, alone away from Negan. There is a war inside her head and around him she can’t hear , can’t make sense of which side is winning.  But here, she can think, can look at herself and know this isn't right. It is easy though. How is the right thing not also is the easy thing? In the beginning she was nothing but rage and violence. Negan had worn her down, over the span of days he had broken her.

 

They had spent the night together sleeping in the same bed; she had felt safe enough to sleep. Her fingers reach for her hair, tugging her way through the knots she finds. It’s a sweet sharp little pain that brings her back to this moment. She shouldn’t be surprised that this was how she ended up, she was hardly a whole person before Negan took her. If he had taken anyone else, it would have been different if it had been Rosita of Michonne they would have been fighting even now.

 

Pandora had been bent and broken. Reshapen to become such a good girl.  

 

“Negan said you didn’t eat.” The voice is an unwelcome interruption to her thoughts. Pandora tries and fails to hide how she jumps at the sound. Between her and door there is a woman, holding a steaming bowl. The women is tall and thin, her hair is almost hidden under a bandana but a few tight curls peek out. “Names Arat we’re going to be training I guess. Hand to hand.”

 

Pandora’s brain struggles for a second. Then she remembers that night when she told him she had been learning how to fight for herself. How fighting seems to keep her ever present demons at bay for a time.

 

“ You have to eat first.” The woman comes toward her when she is close enough she hands her the bowl.

 

“Ok, thank you” The spoon is in her hand, and in the bowl is a mix of veggies and eggs.

 

“I heard about you. Heard you lost your shit and killed some of my guys.”

 

Spooning eggs into her mouth she shrugs her shoulders, “ Probably .”

 

She had come so far in her time here, not since the beginning has she killed any of the people here. There is an order now, and she knows it. The men she had hurt had tried to hurt her first anyway, they should have known better.

 

Arat rolls her head and the joints crack. “How the fuck did this happen.” Arat glares at her shaking her head.

 

“I can ask for someone else.” Pandora can’t see how spending any time with this foul woman is going be helpful.   

 

“Just fucking eat.” Arat tells her, face softening.

 

The empty bowl is left on the table as Pandora stands to follow Arat back inside.

 

“There's a room to work out inside.”

 

From the roof they walk down two flights of stairs all the way down the hall to the end of the sanctuary. The halls are more packed here, and Pandora recognizes these are the men and women of Negan's army.

 

Arat opens a door to their right, it looks just like a gym. The floor is covered in soft padding, they remind her of the mats in the gyms she used to work out in.  There are two rows of free weights, benches set up around to use. They even have a few stationary bikes in the corner. The rest of the space is empty with a thicker padding on the floor.

 

There is always a certain level of absurdity here. The things that she finds housed inside these walls make this place seem unreal to her at times. Where would anyone even find stationary workout bikes. Who took the time to create this room in the middle of all of this shit.

 

Arat is already stretching when Pandora had finished looking at the room. Pandora did the same trying her best to stretch the way she used too. Her body isn't the same anymore it didn't move how she remembers it. Now everything is stiff and slower, her body protests when it moves and turns a certain way.

 

“Are you ready?”

 

Pandora knobs and steadies herself.

 

Arat and Rosita are very different. Rosita is harsh, but it comes from a place of love.  Arat is all shouting and swearing, training seems like a burden to her. Arat doesn't wait for Pandora to catch her breath, or get up, she keeps coming. She hits her too like she means it, not tempering her strength at all.

 

An hour later Pandora is laying on the floor, lungs struggling to fill. Everything hurts, her right side pounds steadily. She can picture the bruise darkening on her skin as she lays there. Her head is pounding from an elbow to the temple she did not dodge in time. She has let herself slip too far away, her body isn’t being taken care of.

 

“I don't think the point was to kill me.” Pandora hisses through her clenched teeth. She curls into a ball trying to stretch her back as much as possible.

 

“She speaks!” Arat is shaking her head her laugher ringing out harsh. Arat is pulling off her bandana pulling her hair into a tight bun on the top of her head.

 

Pandora only rolls her eyes and stands, the movement has her muscles screaming. Arat isn't lying Pandora had hardly said three words the entire time. She had put everything she had into getting her body moving there was no time to talk or even think about talking. It was a good feeling not thinking about anything.

 

“If I wanted you dead, you would be dead.” Arat has a water bottle she is holding out to Pandora now. Pandora has her own empty in only seconds.

 

“I’ll come back for you tomorrow.”

 

“Wait!”

 

Arat hasn't even gotten to the door when Pandora calls her to stop. A tendril of panic creeping up her spine.

 

“I don’t remember my way back.”

 

Arat stops turning, “ Really ?”

 

“It’s a big place.” A sense of shame curls in her gut when she speaks than. She never felt a need to pay attention, no one was letting her wander around, anyway.

 

“Oh fuck let’s go than.” Arat holds the door open and jerks her head to the hallway.

 

Pandora steps up behind her following close, the halls are more full this time. Men and women moved around the halls ways, they all have guns. Arat is a professional at moving between the bodies, Pandora bumps into more people than she misses.

They go down two more flights of stairs than to the left and the left again until she is standing in front of Dave. Whos is a silent figure holding her door open, trade one protector for another.

 

“See you tomorrow Pandora.”

 

Pandora only nobs slipping into her room and shutting the door.   Flicking on the light she stands frozen for a moment. Someone had been here, here in her room, while she was gone . Her bed had been changed, the white sheets replaced with all black bedding. It looks just like Negan's bed, she thinks stepping towards it.

 

Her mind wanders back that this morning as she strips. Pandora leaves her pants, shirt , tank top and sports bra on the floor. Half dressed in a t-shirt and sweats she slips under the bed than pulling the blankets over her. The silk is cold and slippery on her skin, and before she knows it she’s sleeping.

 

When she dreams something is different. She’s in the line up like always, but the men are different. The wolves stand around her, weapons in hand. A man she remembers is standing above her with the bat. This time Negan is in front of her, arms around her hiding her in his chest.

 

“It’s ok I got you Princess.”

 

He has her, his arms around her block out the world, narrowing her view to nothing but his chest. She can hardly even hear the bat with him holding her like that.

 

“I keep you safe Princess.”

 

That is the truth, one thing she can always count on is that he takes care of her. Negan has never hurt her, the box that had been her own fault. She had made him too that to her, a mistake she would not make again.

 

The real world finds her only a few hours later, skin covered in a second layer of sweat. It smells sick, maybe she needs to see the new doctor. The cloths she had been wearing smell, stiff from the sweating she had done in her sleep. Her dreams might have been more like nightmares but she had woken up and not been screaming, it had been a while since that happened.

 

Her muscles are tight and sore, she knows better than the sleep after a workout.

 

“Too late for that now.” She mutters to herself heading for the bathroom. Turning on the shower she cranks it as hot as if goes, peeling off her clothes as steam fills the room. The water isn't as hot here as it was in Alexandria, but it’s enough. The bathroom was her favourite place, the water gave her a deep sense of calm. There had been a time where she turned into a sobbing mess in the shower.

 

The water used to feel like millions of tiny hands, fingers spreading all over her skin. Now this was one of her places she felt completely calm. In the warm shower the water grounds her, reminds her to feel her body. Funny how things happen.

 

The drawers in her room as always filled with fresh clean clothes. Everything she has looks new, she dressed in dark wash jeans, and an oversized white sweater. In the early days her closet had looks more like Negan’s wives, she had rebelled wearing layer upon layer. Now she is better taken care of, with clothes that match her style.

 

Cabinets under the sink is stocked with hygiene products. Lotions, soaps, hair products anything she might need. Today she uses everything Negan had given her. She uses the lotions and lovingly coats each of her curls in product. The absurdity of this moment is not lost on her though. That she can be here, in a bathroom with running water styling her hair.

 

In her main room her stomach does a twist, which reminds her she can’t quite remember the last time she had something to eat. There is a box of mac and cheese in her kitchen, it seems easy enough. Now she does have to read the instructions with care, housekeeping was not her strong point. She never cooked in Alexandria either, Carol would feed them or Daryl.

 

“Add milk.” Pandora reads draining the water from the pot of cooked pasta. “Fuck I don’t have milk.” Her fridge indeed has no milk in it. There had been a cow here before, it might have been eaten by the dead. She goes with water, her only real option.

 

When it’s finished, she is too hungry to clean the kitchen first. Instead she leaves everything out and takes her bowl to the little table. From her chair she can still see outside, she can’t see the people on the group but she can see the area around the Sanctuary.

 

Her view stretches out for miles, her room isn't on the top floor but she is at least six or seven levels up. She can see beyond the fence and the road

 

Half way through the bowl there is a knock on the door. For a second her brain trips on itself trying to think of who would knock. She had seen Negan this morning, and he doesn’t knock. Sherry the only of his wives who seemed to care about her was gone .

 

A second knock rings out this one louder as if maybe she didn't hear the first one.

 

“Come in.” A few more bites of mac and cheese and the mouth and the bowl is empty.

 

When the door finally opens to Rob standing there, another man at his side. Pandora is frozen at the sink her hands holding a plate.

 

“New Doctors here to see you Princess.”

 

“I’m Doctor Carson!”

 

Pandora ignores him for a second her eyes shooting to Rob. They have a whole silent conversation in those seconds, can she trust this man. Rob holds her gaze for a second then nods slowly . He stands at the open door

 

“I remember you. Your people were with Jesus when he saved us.” Dr. Carson tries to smile but there is something in his face he seems to be trying to hide.

 

“They are not my people anymore.”

 

Her tone is final, ending whatever else he might have said. She does remember him. That day Jesus was taking them to the Hilltop, she had been hiding in the bathroom of the RV. They had come across a ruined car, but they had found everyone and gotten them home safe.

 

“Wait.” Moving to the chair at the table again she watches him tilting her head to the side just an inch. “Dr. Carson?” There had been another Doctor by that name, he had died screaming.

 

“The last Doctor was my brother.” There is no sound of emotion in voice, a tone he might use reading medical facts.

 

“I’m sorry.” It’s a wonder to have living family these days with the world upside down. To have someone taken from you, even when it needed to happen must have been hard.

 

Carson nods a movement she might have missed if she wasn't watching him so closely .

 

“I’m looking over his patients now, so I wanted to check in on you.” In his hands is a notebook she didn’t notice until then, it must be about the people he is looking after now. Of course she would be in that book. “How have you been feeling these days?”

 

“I’m doing good.”

 

Doctor Carson opens the books, flips to about the middle than look at her again. “There are quite a few medications listed here do you take all of them?”

 

Pandora gets up from her chair and heads to her night stand. She keeps all the pills here, save for maybe a bottle Negan might have in his room.

 

“I take them when Negan tells me I need them.” She carries the pills back him four little bottles in total. There is one that it almost full she checks the label, Imovane .

 

“You don’t take this one?” Dr. Carson asks pointing to the full bottle.

 

“No, I don’t like it.” She holds it out to him, sure there are other people who might need it more.

 

Shaking his head he makes no move to take it from her. “ I’ll have to check with Negan, for now let me see your wounds.”

 

Pandora is a good patient, so she strips off her sweater, her arms are painted with a few smattering of different coloured bruising.

 

Dr. Carson leaves his book on the table and gets up to examine her. “May I?” He wants to lift her shirt to see the knife wounds that he must know about.

 

As much as she would rather skip this part she nods, allowing him to lift her shirt and look.

 

“The bruising?” He asks trying his keep his tone light.

 

She knows what he thinks, he must assume that Negan has done it.

 

“I’ve been training, hand to hand.” It sounds like an excuse, much like falling down the stairs a reason an abused women might give for her bruising. “Negan would never let anyone hurt me.”

 

Dr. Carson nods at her, “Thank you. You can put your sweater back on.” He moved back to the other chair in the kitchen. “Well Pandora I’ m concerned about you doing hand to hand right now. You are almost dangerously underweight.”

 

Pandora shakes her heads, “I won’t stop training.”

 

“I wouldn’t ask you too, but I need you to bring your weight up.”  He stands pushing his chair in . “Come and see me next week ok?”

 

“Ok.”

 

He’s gone than shutting the door behind him, the empty room doesn't last for long soon Rob is opening the door again poking his head inside.

 

“All good?”

 

Pandora is still sitting at the table pulling her shirt down over head. “Yes.”

 

Rob nods slowly , “I’m out here for another hour than another guy is coming to stand here ok?”

 

Pandora only nods, he closes the door. She heads for the stove getting another bowl of the mac and cheese. She isn't full, and she isn’t hungry but she will not allow her training to be taken from her when she has just started.

 

With the kitchen clean and Pandora feeling overly full she takes the book she has been trying to read all week to the high-backed chairs at the window. The second she sits down it’s not where she wants to be sitting. It’s too stiff, and she is too full.

 

Instead she piles her pillows against the headboard of her bed and settles down into them.  For the first time since she had gotten here she gets lost in the book, like she used to. Hours pass and she finishes chapter after chapter.

 

The sun shifts in the sky dipping below the building to disappear behind the clouds, casting long shadows across the floor. She doesn't move often only to reach over and flick on the lamp when it begins to get too dark to see the pages.

 

When she reached the last few pages the door opens, she doesn't even need to look up she knows it’s him.

 

“Hey there Princess.”

 

Not raising her eyes she holds up her hand to silence him. There is a huff of breath from the other room, and for a second her heart trips over itself thinking she must have gone too far. Negan laughs though, and she sinks back into the page sounds sliding away again. The last page is beautiful and she sits for a moment taking it in, before leaving the book on the side table.

 

“What book? Good read?” Negan is sitting at the little kitchen table, legs stretched out in front of him crossed at the ankles.

 

“It’s called Brain on Fire, it was really good .” She leaves the comfort of her little pillow fort to join him at the table.

 

He brought her dinner, two bowls of steaming gnocchini covered in a rich red meat sauce. The words of the Doctor echo in her head when she starts eating . It’s like a hug from the inside, a warm feeling that spreads from her stomach outward.

 

“This is amazing.” She speaks when she finally takes a break from shoving the food in the mouth.  A curl has fallen forward, long enough it almost touches the bowl. Tucking it behind her ear she can feel his eyes on him when she looks up.

 

When she looks up Negan is watching her, a smile curling the edges of his mouth. There is a flash of heat in her chest, it spreads colouring the skin of her face.

“Oh Princess you are something else.” He shakes his head setting the fork down in his own empty bowl. “ Heard you had a busy day huh ?”

 

“Arat is trying to kill me,” Pandora mumbles into her fork as she chews. “The new Doctor is nice, I meet him today.”  

 

“Is that so?” Negan leans back in the chair, arom crossing over his chest. “ Maybe Arat is getting you back in shape.”

 

Negan is right, but Pandora still rolls her eyes and gets up. She goes to sit in the high backed chair at the window, tucking her legs under her she sinks in. Behind her there  is the sound of a chair on the floor, than again.

 

Negan sets the wine bottle and two glasses on the small round table between them. Than he is gone, and there is more sound this time by her bed. When he comes back he is covering her with a heavy knit blanket from the bed. Leaning in he tucks it in on the sides, breath ghosting her face as her eyes flutter closed.

 

“Wouldn’t want you to get cold.” He days as he settles down in how own chair.

 

“Thank you.”  She whispers as she shifts under the blanket.

 

This man confuses her, his mood turns on a dime and she can never be sure of the direction. He is sweet with her, she knows that. He hasn’t been mad at her since the box, she had been so good .

 

Her eyes are locked to him as he lowers himself into the opposite chair. The wine it already open, her pours them both a tall glass.

 

They drink together in silence for some time. Pandora lets the first glass swim in her veins, just watching him. Time passes and the hard lines on his face begin melting away. He's watching the sky, he is not seeing his through his eyes are miles away.

 

She tried to have another drink, but her glass is already empty. Reaching for the bottle she sees Negan ;s is too.

 

“More?” She asks shaking the bottle in her hands. Negan doesn't answer, reaching out she places a hand on his mar. “ Negan ?”

 

He jumps startled his eyes flicker down to her hand resting on his arm.

 

“Sorry? What did you say Princess?” His free hand moved to cover hers, a solid weight. There has always been something about pressure that she finds calming.

 

She is shocked into silence for only a second before she asks, “More wine?” She can finally ask feeling the muscles on her arm relax.

 

“Ya please.” He holds out his glass for her to fill. She watches him enough to know he likes it full almost to the rim. When she puts the bottle back on the table, slipping her hand out from under him she wrapped them around her mug.

 

“How do you have all this alcohol anyway. ” It has been something she has been wondering. Do people here make it? Do they find it?

 

Negan laughs sipping from the glass slowly . “People here make it, and I’m the boss so I get all the best shit. It’s the least they can do I save everyone here.”

 

Pandora only nods returning her gaze to her own cup. It is great wine, she has to admit. It’s rich and dark, the flavor of chocolate coating her tongue. She was never a wine drinker, never much of a drinker period. Gymnastics was her life, between that and school it didn't leave room for much else.

 

“I'm trying to save Rick the prick too, but he's so damn stubborn.”

 

Pandora blinks setting the glass back in her lap, “He doesn't understand. I tried to tell him to explain how easy it is. How much better.”

 

“You think it's better this way for you?”

 

“ Of course. ”  Her answer has no hesitation no hitch or catch in her voice when she speaks it. This should alarm her, but it doesn't she doesn't feel anything .

 

“ Interesting .”

 

“Rick will come here soon you know.” The wine is making her bold, or maybe she just is bold with him. There isn't a way to be sure.

 

“Oh I'm counting on it.”

Notes:

I'm sure you hate me! Sometimes I hate me but I can't help it. I love writing this super messed up relationship. Let me know what you think? You didn't think this was going to have a happy ending did you??

Chapter 46: No fighting here

Summary:

You are all going to hate me for this, but oh how I love it. Negan knows just how to get under Pandora's skin. Read on let me know what you think in the comments.

The night stretches out before them; they talk for hours. She’s curled up in the big chair, blanket still over her looking at the stars. In the darkness she tells him about before, not before she came here but before everything. Before the world went crazy, and the dead started walking when she lived and breathed the gym.

 

Pandora told him about going to Brazil, how alive she felt there listening to them cheer for her. Fans had followed her from America, she could seem them beaming at her from the stands. After she would wait and they would line up to meet her, some holding posters, other notebooks. She had worked so fucking hard to get here; she took in every moment enjoyed the fame. It was so easy to get lost in her memories, and he was such a good listener.

 

Negan doesn’t take his eyes off her as she speaks. He sinks deeper into his chair watching her sometimes from over the rim of his glass. Negan talks too, tells her about his life before the end of the world. He was a high school gym teacher; he loved those damned kids like his own. He just wanted all of them to like him. He mentions a wife but doesn’t say name or anything else just that she had died before all of this.

 

It’s so easy to talk to him now, she lays everything out. She tells him how much Rick hated her at first, thought she was useless didn’t understand why Daryl saved her.

 

“He thought I was useless.” She tells Negan remembering how he had sneered at her. “He was right until I helped save that place. Then he said I was home.”

 

“Did it feel like home?” Negan takes the glass from her hand, he always finds a way to get under her skin.

 

“Daryl felt like home.”

 

There is a heavy silence between them than where they both just sit and watch each other. Negan is studying her, she is doing the same to him.

 

Sometimes she wonders if anyone else sees this side of him. The softer side, the reason behind what seems like his madness. There is an understanding between them somehow, Pandora can follow the path of his actions and understand the why. He wants to save people.

 

“You wish you could have saved your old students.”

 

Negan looks at her, eyes darkening with emotion before he looks away. “I do Princess. This world is shit, the choices we make are hard I need to be the one to make the hard choices for everyone. I’m the only one who can do it.”

 

He doesn’t speak again only fills his own glass and her own glass. The drink a little longer in the darkness.

 

“You make the hard choices for me.”

 

“I do do n’t I princess. Is it working for you?”

 

“Yes. Daryl made choices for me too when it got too hard. Sometimes I didn’t like them,"  

 

“But you like the choices I make?”

 

“I’m alive aren I? If I didn’t I wouldn’t be.”

 

“Princess that is some dark shit.”  

 

Pandora can only shrug but the words keep coming, “Here I don't have to fight, you keep me safe you take care of me, you keep the monsters away.”   

 

Negan is watching her with an intensity that usually makes her uncomfortable, but now she stares right back unblinking.

 

“You won’t have to fight for shit when I’m here.” His voice has a hard edge to it, an anger she cannot quite place.

 

“Are you mad at me?” Her drink is making her brain slow now, and logically his anger must be towards her there is no one else here.

 

“No Princess, I’m anger because this fucked up world got it hands on you and there was no one there to help. The men that hurt you are worse than animals.”

 

“Oh.” She falls into silence again head resting against the back of the big chair. Her body feels heavy now like the air itself is pushing her down, deeper into the seat. Silence has fallen in the room again this time they both seem content to let it hang there. That is until Pandora jerks her head back up, having fallen asleep for a second and let her head roll down.

 

Negan shatters the silence by standing. He stands before her lifting her from the chair, he tries his best not to jolt her frame. He pulls the blankets away from the bed, sitting her down on it. She slips her legs under the covers and pulls the rest over herself. The bed is so soft, in seconds she is slipping into unconsciousness.  

 

“Sleep it off Princess.”

 

Negan tightened his hand on her shoulder just for a second. Her muscles relax under his touch, but then he was gone . He shuts the door only the faint click of the latch shutting in his wake.

 

In the small hours of the morning Pandora wakes up screaming covered in sweat. Her chest feeling like it it filled with shards of glass, each breath driving the shards deeper. Outside the sky is lightening soon the rest of the world will wake up.

 

Shutting her eyes for another second the images of her nightmare play behind her closed lids. She had been dreaming about the night the wolves found her family. They had almost made it her and her sister, they were so damn fast. In a flash they had separated and Pandora could hear her screaming through the trees. Stumbling her foot caught on the root she falls, hands flying up to cover her face.

 

They are on her in seconds, hands hooked like claws ripping at her clothes and skin.

 

“Oh no you don’t” Negan comes thundering through the trees, swinging lucille. He swings and swings around round them is nothing but bodies. She is sobbing when he lifts her up, curling in his chest to try and calm down.

 

“I’ve got you Pandora.”   

 

Her eyes snap open again, she had slipped into the nightmare. Coming out again with the sound of her door opening. In the opening there is the outline of a shadow, in the next moment it’s gone.

 

“Hey there Princess.” Negan is closing the distance between them in the darkness. His voice still holds the tint of sleep rough and unused. “Night guy heard you screaming bloody murder.”

 

“I, I, I, I, I” She isn’t calm enough to string a sentence together.

 

Negan takes one look at her and slips beside her on the bed. He pillows his head under his arm when he sits. The mattress dips under his weight and it brings her moving closer to him.

 

“ Come’ere Princess.” he jerks his head, it’s almost invisible in the dark.

 

She moves closer though, tucking herself inside his warmth. His arm moves from under his hard to wrap around her. Within minutes her breathing is even, and she’s asleep again.

 

Morning rays warm the exposed skin of her arms, which hang just over the jet black sheets. Somewhere in her head she remembers a body in her bed. Remembers Negan in her room in the darkness, talking to her until the nightmares were gone . When she rolls over though, the other side of the bed is empty.

 

When she opens her eyes the whole room is awash with morning light. Negan is standing in her kitchen. He is dressed in whatever he had gone to bed in, a dark grey pair of sweatpants and a white t-shirt.

 

Somehow she finds it insane that he is here that he spent the night with her. There is no denying the hulking figure in her tiny kitchen.

 

“Morning.” She had been silent until now, he didn't hear her wake up. She is dressed still under the covers, a habit she had started since negan seems to come and go as he pleases. Everything she wears is twisted and creased. She wants to shower again but the smells coming from the kitchen are too tempting.

 

Heading for the kitchen she slips into the chair at the small table facing him. He is setting the plate down just as she sits, scrambled eggs, a sausage patty and a warm bun. They have bread here, there is enough time and ingredients for someone to make bread. It’s unreal.

 

“Eat up Princess, you have a date with Arat and then we have a meeting to go.”

 

The first bite goes down hot in her stomach and she takes a bite of the bread right away. It’s heavenly to her, she can’t help but feel sick at enjoying these little moments.

 

“What meeting?”  She finally asks taking a bite of the apple. Her other hand it busy trying to get the tangles out of her curls. She ignores the part about Arat she isn’t sure hand to hand with that woman is something she wants to keep doing.

 

“War meeting Princess, I want you there you have inside knowledge.” Negan is getting up again, coming back with a black tea kettle in his hands. He pours two mugs full of amber liquid and hands her one. “No coffee but tea, next best thing I think.”

 

She doesn't pick it up until she is finished with the plate of food. Then she wraps her hands around the mug and inhales deeply . It’s a sweet black tea, the flavor sits heavy on the tongue.  The caffeine hit her harder than usual, a light buzz makes it home in her veins.

 

“I always add a little honey, honey never goes bad.”

 

This feels like small talk to her like common kitchen conversation, she is smiling about it. Before she even notices she can feel the tug on the corner of her lips.

 

“I didn’t know that.”

 

“Get dressed Princess, I’ll be back in a few hour s .”

 

He takes the dishes with him, handing them off to someone she cannot see standing on the other side. She only waits a moment sitting at the table in silence for a second before she is moving too. There isn't time for a shower, so she washes her face and changes her clothes. In the bathroom she wets her hair until she can brush it into something more mangable .

 

In the bathroom she is a mess, bruising peeking out from under the collar of her sweater she put on. Her skin is missing most of the glow but some roundness is back now. She binds her hair into a braid letting it sit down the middle of back, easier to keep it out of her face.

 

Not ten minutes later there is a knocking on her door.

 

“Come in!” It must be Arat already when Negan says be somewhere you get there.

 

“Come one Princess round two.”

 

The voice from outside the bathroom makes her tense for a second. There is a small part of her that hopes today will be on the lighter side, but she isn't sure with Arat. Her muscles are stiff this morning, still not as bad as she thought it would be. Her body had been through so much it still impressed her with its recovery time.  

 

They go down to the gym together, Pandora isn’t as worked up in the halls today. There is something about working her body that also helps the noise in her head. Their training is shorter today, and mercifully not as intense. Arat teaches her how to get out of different holds, a few times she almost panics when Arat jumps her. The other woman is taking her time today thought and when Pandora shifts Arat whispers, the instructions to get out and Pandora is free again.

 

“Same time tomorrow.” Arat announced handing Pandora a water bottle.

 

Today she isn't curled into a ball on the floor instead she is resting her back against the wall. Legs straight out in front of her she had been reaching for her toes until Ar at handed her the bottle. It’s empty in a matter of seconds, and Pandora is standing.

 

“I have to go, I need a shower before the meeting.”

 

Arat is shaking her curls loss from the bun she had them in watching her. “You’re going to the meeting?”

 

Pandora only shrugs reaching down to the touch her toes, this produces a popping sounds along her spine with a blissful result. The other woman moved to the door opening in just slightly .

 

“Are you sleeping with him?” The question is tossed out with a small voice. Like it escaped, and she didn’t mean to let it to.

 

Her body responds instantly with a stone stiffness. Is that what everyone here thinks? That she must be fucking him because why else? It would be easier to explain though wouldn't it, it she was sleeping with him. Instead she cannot really find the words for what they are, he is her caretaker? Her support system, her captor, or he was her capture and now well now it was different.

 

“No, that would be easy to explain.”

 

The walk back to her room is spent in silence, Pandora slips into a pool of her own deep thoughts. Arat doesn’t speak either, they fall into step silent. In her room the shower she takes is pure heaven it’s hot enough to force the tension seeping from her muscles. She dressed again making sure she can cover all the darkening bruising flowering on her skin.

 

Back in her room she takes a bottle of pills from her night stand. These ones keep her calm keep her panic in check, they may everything easy. Sometimes she needs easy.

 

Negan doesn’t knock just opens the door and smiles at her, “Come one Princess everyone is waiting.”

 

This time she pays attention as they walk. He takes her down one flight of steps at the end of the hall, when they turn right there is a long empty stretch of wall, then a door. Negan opens the door which leads into a board room. The table is long sitting in the middle of the room it can seat 12 maybe 14 at it. All the chairs they have are full, save for one in at the head.

 

“Get her a chair.” Negan jerks his head to the right of the chair he was going to sit in.

 

A man gets up Gavin, she thinks. He takes a chair from along the wall and pulls it up to the right of Negan. Without a word everyone in their chairs shifts down at the table.

 

Negan pulls the chair out for her, sitting he pushes her into the table. One hand rests on her shoulders giving it a tight squeeze before sitting down beside her.

 

There is a heavy tension in the room, she can almost taste it. It usually sets her nerves on edge, but the little white pill she took beforehand is working its magic. Negan had said he wanted her here for her inside information, but no one here seems to ask her anything so she zones out.

 

The boardroom had one wall full of windows, they are dirty and painted over but there is still light in the room. This conversation has nothing to do with her, she was never important enough to know the inner workings of his mind. There is an idea forming that maybe Negan likes her company after all . She can’t say she minds his company either, he’s nice a good talker and it’s easier than being alone.

 

The train of thought she is following gets shattered by Negan banging L ucille on the table.

 

“People are a resource!” with each word he slams the bat on the table. Pandora is stiffer with each bang. “Money on the table! People are the foundation of what are are fucking building here! Are you confused about who we are? Are you confused about who is in charge? Are we sliding back Simon, please tell me we are not back sliding.”

 

Pandora cannot say what makes her move, but she moves. She rests a hand on his arm giving it a squeeze. She doesn’t miss the way Dwight looks at her. Negan looks down at her and takes a breath, he gives her a slow nod before easing himself back into his chair.

 

Simon is saying something, but she doesn’t catch it she is watching Negan too hard.

“Plan A is taking the Prick, the widow and king assface and make them dead in a very public way . We kill the right people in the wrongest way possible and we make them watch."

 

“ Have someone they love do it.” Pandora finds her voice somewhere in this room. She thinks about what would have broken her.

 

Negan rests his hand over her own sitting on her thigh. “That's a great idea Princess.”

 

His sentences is punctuated by the sound of gunshots. Pandora goes stiff backed in her chair, but Negan and his men are moving. They all stand in front of the windows, a solid mass of bodies.

 

“Should we get our people out there? Line em up?” Simon  is chomping at the bit for violence, she can see it. Unable to help herself, she glares at him, no one notices. He is a dangerous man, more dangerous than Negan.

 

“No, besides they have some hillbilly armor on. Weste of bullets that’s all it will be.”

 

The group checks their weapons before heading to the door. Pandora locks eyes with Negan who only jerks his head for her follow. She does, staying just behind him, best place to be if shooting was going to start. There is a small balcony that faces where Rick has lined up cars covered in metal.

 

Grinning Negan steps forward lucille over his arm, “Well shit, I'm sorry I was in a meeting.” He jerks his head to the cars. “I see you got your little mud flaps with you. So I’m not exactly feeling a reason for us to be throwing lead at each other. I care about my people. I don't want to just march them into the line of fire because I want to play my dick is bigger than yours. It is we both know it. But I'm also comfortable enough to accept the face that if it wasn’t. I'm certainly not gonna let people die over that shit like you’re about to.”

 

There is a long stretch of silence, Pandora has been using the time to try and pick out faces from between the sheets of metal. There is a flash of Aaron, she thinks she has seen Rosita. No one meets her eyes, none of them even look up at her.

 

“So Rick what the fuck can I do for you?” There is a tightness in his voice, Pandora had spent enough time with him to know this cheer is forced .

 

This is well thought out while Negan and his men had been planning and talking Rick has already been on the move. She knew this group was nothing to mess with, Daryl used to tell her stories of the other groups they come in contact with and how they had always won.

 

“Dwight, your Simon, you’re Gavin and you?”

 

A quick turn of her head has Pandora looking at Regina standing to the side with her arms crossed over her chest.

 

“Regina.”

 

“Rick, I’d feel remiss if--” Eugene is cut off his face paling just a fraction.

 

“No, I know who you are. Listen you five the saviours inside all of you have a chance to survive here. To survive this. You can all live if you surrender. Can’t guarantee it any time but now. Right now.” After everything that has happened Rick is still offering mercy.

 

Not for her, it is hard to miss that she was not included by name . The blood in her head is pounding, thundering in her ears drowning out all the sound for a minute. They had decided not to save her, she was not worth their mercy. The sun is too bright suddenly, and she thinks everyone must be watching her fall apart. Negan is standing to her right a few feet in front of her. He is tall enough to hide her small frame, the shadow he creates is cool and easier for her hide behind .

 

“So they surrender and you and your piss patrol don’t even kill them? Sounds like a good deal! What about me Rick?”

 

“I told you, twice. You know what ’s going to happen to you.”

 

Negan glances over his shoulder at her a grin splitting his face, he shakes his head at her before turning away.

 

“I do, I do know what ’s going to happen. But you have no idea the shit thats about to go down. Let me ask you Rick do you have the numbers for this fight? You don’t! Simon!”

 

Simon takes a few steps backwards from the corner of her eye she watches him disappear back inside. When he comes back out there is an older man walking in front of him. Pandora knows him, he was at Hilltop. He was their leader, she remembers that. Pandora remembers his face well, she always thought he was a snake.

 

The man from Hilltop walks past her stepping up beside Negan.

 

“What do you have to say to Rick and the piss patrol, Gregory. ”

 

Pandora moves just a bit going to the left closure to the steps her eyes do another sweep of the people lining their gates. The white pill she took is swimming in her veins making her float above everything.

 

“The Hilltop stands with Negan and the Saviours. Any resident of the Hilltop who takes up arms or who support this ultimatum against the Sanctuary or any of the Saviours for that matter they will no longer be welcome in the colony.”

 

Negan is grinning now an arm thrown over Gregorys shoulders. “ And ?”

“ And their families will be thrown out and left to fend for themselves.”

 

“ And ?” Negan asks again stepping away.

 

“Go home now or you won’t have a home to go back too.”

 

Something catches her eyes, and she is sure she can hear the engine of a motor bike. Her heart flutters for a second before she can get a hold of herself. It doesn’t matter if he is here, she is where she needs to be.

 

“The Hillstop stands with Maggie!” The shout brings her back to the present moment.

 

Simon is in Gregorys face now, she doesn’t care to hear it. A clang of metal and a grunt are heard and now she is very sure she does not want to look. So instead she curls her hands on the metal bar until her knuckles are white with the effort.

 

Somewhere in the distance she can hear explosions, the air is filling with smoke. Then gunfire explores and everyone is moving. Expect for her she is too slow, too high to make it to the door before the shooting starts. A spark files near her hand, someone is shooting at her. Jumping she tumbles down the steps using them as cover.

 

The world air exploded again and her world goes black.

Notes:

Let me know what you think! I love where this is going. Pandora molds so well when shapes by Negan, she is becoming so wrapped up in him. Oh man what did you think??

Chapter 47: Save her

Notes:

I'm not even going to pretend I am going to be consistent honestly! but I'm here and I'm still writing! I haven't even caught up with the show tbh. 🤦♀️

The events that lead to her trip into the darkness play behind her eyes now. She can see them all in reverse, the flames putting themselves out; the RV rushing away from the Sanctuary, bullets flying back into their guns. In the darkness she can hear someone calling her, and after a few seconds she knows it’s Negan.

 

Still when he touches her, she jerks away from him, opening her eyes into a different darkness. Her head rolls to the side the world dipping in her vision. Her stomach roils nausea over taking her for a second.

 

“Easy there Princess, nice and slow.”  

 

Negan has his hands on her chin tilting her head upwards so she can look at him. Blinking a few times she tries to make everything clear but for a few seconds her vision stays blurred. If this is death, she is not sure it’s so scary after all. Then outside the dead moan and bang on  the walls, Negan's leather jacket rubs together,

 

“How? How?” She wants to ask how she is not dead, but the words won't come. Her brain misfires a few times, a thought starting and stopping.

 

“Hey don’t you worry about that ok.” Negan clears the hair from her eyes the world swims back to focus. “I always look out for you Princess couldn’t leave you out there.”

 

She had blacked out, because there had been shooting and someone drove the RV into the front gates. They hadn’t given her a second thought, her life was nothing to them. A casualty of war, was what they had reduced her to. It didn't matter because Negan had done what he promised he would do protect her.

 

“Had to wake you up Princess, it’s time to go.”

 

The rest of the little room comes into focus, and now she can hear the dead outside. Lifeless uncoordinated hands clambering to get inside. The room is almost in total darkness, some stray lights peek in from the covered windows.

 

“Where are we?” There is a marching band playing in her brain, everything is too loud and too confusing. “What do you mean?”

 

“She’s been in here the whole time?” Father Gabriel steps out of the shadows his face twisted in horror.

 

What is he doing here, she doesn't quite understand what’s happening. Pandora lets her eyes wonder the room she has woken up in. In the middle of the floor there is the body of a dead thing.

 

“Take a second Princess I’m right here.” Negan steps away from her than swinging Lucille into the chest of the dead thing. He smashes it and smashes it until it’s a wide open wound, taking up its entire chest. “Sucks Gabe looks like we are going to have to risk eating it by eating it.”

It is easy to see what will come next, it still makes the bile rise in her throat. This is not a new trick, you cover yourself in the dead to hide. They had tried it once her and her family. Lily had been the one to think of it, she had always been so much smarter than Pandora. It had worked for them too, they had slipped out of the apartment building they had been living in.

 

“I don’t understand.” Father Gabriel is watching her though, she doesn't look but she can feel the intensity of his stare. He isn't speaking to her, no one ever does. He is watching her, posing questions for Nagen

 

“Ever done this trick with the guts before? These are putrid, decaying organs, dead blood, piss and shit that have been cooking all day in the Virginian sun.”

 

Gabriel is looking at her now stepping just a fraction closer. Pandora lowers her head knows Negan has not given her permission to speak to him.

 

“We’re from Georgia.”

 

“Look at you lucky shits,” Negan has his hands down in the dead thing when he looked at her. “Come over here Princess.”

 

Pandora is flying to her feet when he calls her desperate to put space between her and the priest. She cannot handle the way he is looking at her, so she runs back to Negan.

 

Negan has his arms elbow deep in guts, Pandora is rooted in the spot eyes glued to him. “I, I can’t do that.” The world is swimming again, for a second she is sure she will hit the floor. The smell is horrible, hot and heavy in the air.  

 

“Pandora.” The command in his voice has her eyes locking to his face. “I will not leave you here. If I go out that door you are coming with me.”

 

There is a such a thick silence she swears she can hear the beating of her heart. Negan won’t leave her, that she knows. So she can go out at his side, or screaming over his shoulder. Tilting her chin up she shuts her eyes, “Do it.”

 

“That’s my girl.”

 

Lowering herself to her knees in front of him she remains as still as possible. He is careful and only covers his clothes, despite what Gabriel had said.

 

“Father you in the back, Princess up front with me ok?” Negan reaches down to his pant leg pulling a knife the length of his palm.  He hands it to her before standing and reaching for her hand. Standing the grips in the knife in her left hand testing the weight in her hand. “Let’s make some noise.”

 

Pandora isn’t really good at that, still too terrified to move. Her body and her mind never seem to be on the same page when she needs them. Negan and Gabriela make all the noise for her, banging on the walls and windows. Negan reaches for her hand and she refuses to open her mouth sure only vomit will come out. Tugging her for the door he wraps his free hand around it. Panic flares for a second, this cannot work. There are too many out there, they will smell the life on them all.

 

Negan slips up beside her one gore covered hand taking her own, his grip is iron. The ice in her blood melts, replaced by steel. Negan has saved her before, he has beaten odds before.

 

‘So have you little one.’ The voice in her head sounds like her Mother. She can almost see her there too standing in the darkness whispering to her. It has been such a long time since she had seen a vision of her mother, it seems fitting now since she might not make it.

 

Negan gives her a light tug, he looks worried. Which he has every right to be she gone off the dreamland in the middle of this shit storm.

 

“Here we go.” Negan whispers it though because the second his finishes he yanks the door open and dead come streaming inside. There are stock still for a second than Negan has her moving out the door and down the steps.

 

When they step outside Pandora can see where they are headed, it’s a logical move. Ten feet away give her take there is a raised landing which leads to a set of stairs, which one would assume would lead them inside.  

The dead that move around her are in varying states of rot and decay. Some of them look fresh, others less than humans. Negan is almost right behind her a tightly coiled wall of muscle. Father Gabriel is nowhere in her field of vision, she has forgotten about him all together.

 

They move together until somehow their cover is broken. Pandora isn't sure what happened tunnel vision too strong somehow the dead know they do not belong there. Negan shoves her forward that is all the push she needs to shove her way through the bodies.  Head swims towards her and her hand flies up catching it with her blade. There is enough strength in her hair to pull the blade out before the lifeless body hits them floor.

 

It cleans just enough of a path for her to see Gabriel losing himself to panic. A fire is in her belly no and she will not die like this, chewed up by the dead. Shoving some out of her way she grabs his jacket yanking him towards her. It seems to wake him up again, and he gets out a few gunshots clearing a path for them to stumble through.

 

Her knife catches another dead things trying to grab her, after all this time she is still quick. There is a platform a head of them a few dead have somehow gotten on top. They tumble down to the ground hands and mouths coming for them. Pandora is sure she is going to die until something pulls her up.

 

It takes only a few seconds to realize her knife is gone and a dead thing is coming towards her. Her legs fly up to kick it away tumbling it down to the floor. It knocked her down landing her flat on the floor.

 

“Atta girl Princess.” Negan swings his bat above her head knocking a dead women away from her.

 

Negan stands above her a hand out for her to grab. Her head pounds wind knocked out of her by the fall. She lets him help her up though clinging to his arm to steady herself.

 

“Come’on Princess this way.” Negan has her by the hand now leading her up the stairs to the door inside.

 

The moment Negan opens the door a weight falls off her shoulders, slumping them. The second the door opens she can hear the sound of raised voices, a huge swell of noise. Whatever energy had filled her outside made it possible for her to make it back inside alive, is fading away.

 

Inside the hall ways the sound of voices is growing, bouncing off the walls and filling the little space. Negan picks up his pace pulling her along, Pandora wonders what they will find when they reach the sound. The dead inside the walls already, Negan’s mighty kingdom in flames.

 

As they turn the corner they his people dropping to their knees. Regina standing holding a smoking gun. More would have been dead, but Negan has calmed the storm brewing. He still has her hand in his and she grips onto him, frightened to let go.

 

“ Ah, Regina. Now, why have to go and do that? I am guessing that a lot of you fine folks thought I was dead, chewed up, never to be crapped out again. Well, here's a little refresher on who the hell I am. I wear a leather jacket, I have Lucille, and my nut sack is made of steel. I am not dying until I am damn good and ready!” Negan pauses gives a glance down at her quickly and keeps on talking. “Now, if you'll all excuse me, I am in deep need of a sandwich, a shower, and some of that, uh, wilting lion orchid deep-tissue shit that Frankie learned in San Francisco. Hell, I might do it all at once. But after that, we have some serious business to attend to. Like talking to my right-hand man. You see, we got to figure out how all this could've happened like it happened. And then well, and then we're gonna get back doing what we have always done. We will save people.”

 

The mass  on their knees cheer, someone says thank you, someone else thanks God for Negan coming back. She wants to join them, get on her knees and thank him. That would have been the end of her, eaten by a hoard of zombies led by people she once called family. Negan had saved her again, he was right the world out there was dangerous. Here with him was the only place she was truly safe.

 

“Take him gently to number two and take the Princess back to her room.”

 

The crowd is disprusing, but she is staring at Negan face twisting in panic.

 

“No, I don't want to.” No is not something she tells him, often or ever. Her head pounds and everything taste like the dead, the last thing she wants to do is be alone.

 

“Don’t want to what Princess?” Negan is leaning down so only she can hear him.

 

Thus triggers her tears, huge wet drop streaming down her cheeks. “I don't want to go back to my room alone.”

 

A high of the level she felt outside is always followed by a crash. This crash is happening fast, inside she knows she is safe so now she is spiraling. Her body is too heavy now, arms hanging at her sides pulled down by a strong sense of gravity.

 

“Hey, hey.” Negan uses the pads of his fingers to wipe her eyes leaving streaks of sticky blood in their place. “You can come with me than don’t cry.”  

 

He reaches for her she doesn't mind his blood covered hands she grips onto him like she is drowning. With a snap of his fingers with his free hand a man appears at his side.  

 

“Go to Pandora’s room and pick her out something to wear and send it to my room.”

 

Negan leads her back to his room, she hears him give a few more order the words don't mean anything to her. The next thing she knows she is standing in his bathroom, and Negan is tugging at her sweater.

 

“Come on down-to-earth Princess and take that off.”

 

Pandora jumps his voice forcing her back into her body. The sweater lands on the floor in a heap leaving her is a relatively clean tank top. Her pants, socks and shoes are left none of them savable. This leaves her standing in nothing but her tank top and underwear.

 

“I almost died today.” She whispered her hands shake at her sides, Negan’s figure swimming in her vision. The dam in her head is breaking, threatening to take her at any second.

 

“I know Princess, take a shower and we can talk.” There is something so oddly domestic about all of this. Negan in the bathroom holding her blood covered clothes watching her with such tenderness.

 

“Ok.” Is all she can seem to muster. When she hears the door close she strips and heads into the shower.

 

When she comes out, there is an outfit folded next to the sink, complete with thick socks. Pandora dresses quickly pulling the dark green sweater over her head. She runs her fingers through her hair and puts in some product.

 

In the mirror her skin is clean, honey coloured skin shining. It doesn't feel clean, there is a phantom feeling of guts and blood. It does that matter that it never touched her skin, she feels it. Watching herself in the mirror her fingers touch her cheeks gently. Her skin is soft a roundness is back though, her face is filling out by the day.

 

Opening the door she steps back into the main living room. Negan is standing at the bar dressed in only his boxers and a tank top. Like her the under layer of his clothes seems to be clean enough. He is already drinking she notes, a small glass in his hand filled with dark amber liquid.

 

“Hey Princess food is there on the counter” Negan pats her on the shoulder and heads into the bathroom.

 

In his kitchen there is a plate for her, a sandwich with a steaming bowl of soup. Pandora eats at the little kitchen table and washes her dishes when she's done.

 

He comes out while she is washing her dishes, putting a half filled glass at her Enlow just as she was about to start drying them.

 

“Leave it Princess, come to bed.”

 

Pandora dried her hands on the towel she was going to use for the dishes. Heading for the bed she pulls the covers open and slips inside.

 

Negan gets into bed beside her handing her a glass she forgot in the kitchen. Pandora takes the cup in her hands, a tight grip stops the shaking. Raising it to her lips she takes a long deep drink, it sets a fire in her gut. It’s a good fire though and she hums shutting her eyes.

 

“We almost died today.” This time when she says it there are no tears or panic. “You saved me again.”

 

Negan grins at her reaching over he turns on the bedside lamp. “I promised I always would.*

 

She spins the glass in her hand watching the amber liquid swish. Bringing it to her lips she takes a deep drink, emptying it.

 

“Hmm,” she hums glass clinking on the side table. This cues the melting of her bones into the pillows. “Are you going to plan tonight?”

 

“No, not tonight. I need a break.” Beside her in the now darkness she can hear him shifting. The sun hasn't fully set yet but they are too tired to wait till dark to sleep. Instead they both begin to drift away in silence.

 

“Good night.” She whispers pulling the sheets over herself and rolling over.

Notes:

Well? Do you hate me yet? Our poor little Pandora is so lost, but I love it. Let me know what you think! Please? haha

Chapter 48: The dam breaks

Notes:

Oh lord this became a beast, I really don't know how that happened. But enjoy haha!

The afternoon finds her sitting on the rooftop. The man who had been waiting outside Negan’s room when she got up is now standing at the door keeping the number of people low. It's too fucking crowded now with the dead surrounding than 20 deep.

 

Pandora had woken up alone no sign of Negan. Their new tradition of late nights and liquor were not bad for her sleep. The alcohol send her into a deep dreamless sleep; it was nothing short of heaven.

 

Once she had rolled out of bed and stepped into the next room, she knew Negan hadn't eaten before he left. The small makeshift kitchen was too clean,   not a dish in sight . Pandora doesn't do the same she  opens every cabinet until she can pull together something that looks like a meal.

 

Negans finds her on the roof, some time mid day she thinks because the sun it hanging directly above her. There is never enough nature here, it’s too gray too empty. This makes the greenhouse her favorite spot, soaking up the rays of the sun under the glass ceiling.

 

When Negan steps into her field of vision he doesn’t speak only lowered himself into the other chair to her right. This war is taking a toll on him, she can see the ever deepening lines on his face. Thinking about that makes her stomach uneasy, Negan needs to be in control that's how they all stay safe.

 

A few minutes tick by before she speaks, “There are too many fucking people.”

 

A heavy sigh come from him, “Tell me about it. We are trapped in here like fucking animals. All thanks to Rick and his merry band of pricks.”

There is a water bottle on the seat next to her, she doesn't think just hands it to him. Negan takes a long deep drink, Pandora  help but wish it was rum in there instead.

 

“Do you have a plan?”

 

“I might want to find out?”

 

Before she had even thought about it he is already standing with his hand out. Was it a question or did she imagine that inflection in his voice. Not that it matters why not go with him. Taking his outstretched hand she allows him to pull her up.

 

Inside they go to the meeting room from yesterday, it looks the same all the painted windows still intact. She has not seen much of the rest of this place, Negan is careful to keep her away from the ugly it seems.

 

Negan moved to the head of the table pulling out a chair to his left for her. He is a watcher she can tell, Negan is always watching everything maybe that is how he always seems to know what she needs. As he slides into the chair at the head of the table, she cannot help but notice the impressive figure he cuts. Shoulders wide in the leather jacket, a shadow of a bread just beginning to ghost his chin. Lucille is over his shoulder one hand around her handle the other arm resting on the table.

 

“You look scary.” She mutters tucking a strand of stray hair behind her ear.  Elbows on the table she is still watching him.

 

Negan only laughs his free hand rubs the stub le he has on his chin. “That’s the point Princess, Dr. Smarty pants works better when he is scared .”

 

That has her rolling her eyes, because he isn't wrong. She didn’t know Eugene well, but he was not held in the highest esteem. Daryl always thought he was a coward lying to everyone for so long. It seems to her he might do better when he is frightened .

 

The door open flooding the room with the noise of the hallway. Eugene comes in, he looks tired. Like at any moment he might fall over and become one of the dead. She can understand that feeling with all the sounds around her . In Negan’s room she cannot hear the dead but here she can hear them moaning. They are closer to the ground here outside the dead pound the windows and walls struggling to get inside. Behind them a bang makes her jump, Negan doesn't look over but puts his hand on her knee. A heavy welcome pressure that works like a wave washing over her muscles tension seeping out like water.

 

Eugene stands at the end of the table watching them in silence. He hasn’t said anything since stepping in the door.

 

“If things don't get fixed soon a lot of people are going to die. My people, not me of course . I am living no matter what, I am too good at this shit.” Negan leans back in the chair for a second then he stands one hand on her shoulder, a quick squeeze. “But others, and I can't have that. I don't want to see people get shot up chewed up, or chewing up the rest. I don't want to see you get eaten, Eugene. This place is all about pooling and organizing strength. And you, my friend, are strong. That spongy organ between your eyes and your spectacular mullet is strong and I just want to make sure you know that I know that.”

 

Though she is following the conversation Pandora doesn’t quite understand what’s really happening. It sounds like Negan is threatening him, while also telling him how important he is. Mind games are Negan’s favorite, and effective. She is walking proof in a way, as much as the thought pains her isn't she a product of his games.  It is working on Eugene too she can tell, his face is somewhere between proud and terrified.

 

“Consider me made. Our pages are utterly and completely one and the same .” Eugene has his eyes glued to Negan, but she doesn’t miss the way he glances at her for a second.

 

Negan stands the hint of a grin tugging up the corners of his mouth. He swings L ucile as he walks, a  movement that for some reason has Pandora mesmerized. Sitting on the table Negan is wearing a full grin now his holds out his free hand/ a few seconds pass and Eugene moves to kiss it, not before Negan draws it away.

Pandora can’t help but find this exchange hilarious and it takes all her willpower not to laugh. Instead she pressed her hand over mouth in an attempt to hide the giggle she feels blooming.

 

Negan glances her way there is a sparkle in his eye, “Eugene I was going for a hand shake” His words are long and drawn out, the accent coming through thick. “Stand up” A flick of his fingers and the other man is standing shaking his hand. “Now I can see where you’d be confused as I rarely do that shit. A handshake is a sign on mutual respect, few people get that from me.”

 

“There’s work that needs getting to.” Then he is gone out of the room as quick and as quiet as he came in.  

 

“See that Princess easy pease.” Negan stands again rolling his neck for an audible joint pop in several places. “Are you hungry?”

 

Pandora sets her hands back in her lap head tilting to the side, “I could eat.”

 

“Come on then, let’s go see what we can find.”  

 

Tara is out of the truck seconds after Daryl has put it in park , that girl is like a dog with a bone.

 

‘So are you.’ he scolds himself, he is here isn't he. All their carefully laid plans are moving to slow for him, there is no sign of surrender yet. He pulls out a notebook from his back pocket. Inside is a roughly drawn map of the upper levels of the sanctuary.  

 

Daryl had drilled Dwight every change he got. What did she do during the day, who was around where, where did she go. In the book he had drawn a map of the upper levels, according the Dwight she was kept away from the lower levels. Negan didn’t allow her to wonder on her own she had her own rotating pool of guards.

 

That bit of information he finds interesting it makes him picture her somewhat wild still, the guards there to protect the people from her. That was all a fantasy, and he knew it. He had seen her while they were in there, the light in her eyes was gone . she had moved differently too, eyes always on Negan when he is around her.

 

When the war started for real he had demanded she gets out before anything happened. Get her out in the night Dwight had enough pull he could make it happen. Dwight had only shaked his head said even he couldn’t get that done. He would need more people than himself, and drugs to keep her calm.

 

“She would come she wants to come home.”

“I don't think she does, it’s different now.”

 

Daryl could not hear anything else after that, instead he went into the woods and killed everything he could find until Dwight's words were silent. He had spent many nights after that going over every details of the plan with a fine-tooth comb looking for a way to get her out.

 

All of that had led them to this moment instead. They would blow the doors open and let the dead fill the inside. That would, they hope force them to surrender before they fought another battle. If everything went according to plan than Daryl could have Pandora home by tonight.

“You up for this?”  

 

Michonne is sitting in the passenger seat beside him. He doesn’t have to look at her to know her heart wasn’t in it. Michonne cannot understand what this is like for him, to have her so close and so far away. He cannot wait for this any longer, Ricks plan is too slow. He has to get her out sooner, has to do something. Daryl is the reason he she is still in there, first chance he had he ran, without her.

“I came here cause I wanted to see things for myself. I wanted to know that things were gonna work. But you know what? I don't get to know that.” She turns to him but Daryl drops his gaze. His hands tightened on the wheel of the truck “None of us do. What I do know is things are working now. So maybe we just need to trust that things are gonna keep working, because this what we are about to do it’s not worth risking us.” her hand moves to touch his arm. “It’s not worth risking Pandora.”

 

Her name sends sharp glass into his chest. Michonne doesn’t understand, how can she everyone she truly loves is safe .

 

“It is for me.” He whispers his eyes flick up for only a second before he has to look away. “It just is.”

 

Pandora would want this for him, for them. She would want to burn this whole thing down to the ground, even if she is inside. He would burn everything down for what Negan had done to them.

 

“I hope it works.” Michonne is shaking her head now, and \Daryl knows what’s coming next.

 

He chest feels like it is break again but he doesn’t move, only watches the dash swim in his vision. He can make her stay, he knows that.

 

“I really , really do. But I-I can’t.  I just can’t,"

 

“Then you shouldn’t” He won't get out of this truck and she knows it. Even if everyone else turns their back on this, he can’t.

 

He doesn’t move as Michonne gets out of the van, only keeps his eyes focused on the steering wheel. He gets so lost in his own thoughts the sound of the door shutting makes him jump.

 

“We got Morgan and the snipers.” Tara says in the soft voice from outside his window. “We can do this.”

 

“Yeah, we will.” Or he would die trying.

 

They have lunch together in his room, he doesn't ask where she wants to go just takes her back there. It doesn’t matter anyway, not to her. He gets them two sandwiches on fresh soft buns.

 

His room is different from her, it's much bigger. They are sitting in his kitchen, to her left is the living room. An old TV with a black three seater sofa, he had some paper scattered on the wooden coffee table. His room is through another door,  in there is just a bed and a dresser. Still she didn’t think anyone else here had two room.

 

“Thank you for lunch.” Pandora doesn't speak until half the plate is empty.

 

“No problem Princess, thanks for the company.”

 

Pandora finds his statement so odd, what kind of company is she. He cannot want to keep her around for the conversation, there isn't much of that happening between them. Not to say they don't talk at all, it's usually in the small dark hours of the night when she tells him her deeps thoughts.

 

Somewhere outside it sounds like the world is exploding, screaming and gun fire fill the air. Pandora is on her feet in seconds yanking the door to Negan’s room open. She doesn't get too far Negan is behind her a hand on her arm making her stop.

 

“Princess don't you even think about it.” Negan holds Lucille in his hand. “Do not leave this room wait for me.”

 

Negan shoves her back inside the door slamming in her face. For a few seconds she is standing there shaking doing nothing but listening to the sound of screaming. People are dying out there, she can hear it.

 

The sound of guns grow, but locked in this room she can’t do anything about it. So Pandora heads back to the kitchen finished her lunch and wait on the sofa.

 

An hour or so goes by until the door opens again and Negan steps inside. Pandora is on her feet in seconds moving to him her hands outstretched. His jacket is splattered in blood and gore, she doesn’t care.

 

“What happened?”

“It’s ok Princess.” Negan takes her hands off his jacket shrugging it off his shoulder letting it drop to the floor. “Someone tell me what the fuck just happened.”

 

“They drove a van through the service doors, let the dead inside. They overtook the lower level, but we blocked the stairs.”

 

Dwight is pacing back and forth, by the door. Pandora has only just noticed that the room is full of his generals. That sets her teeth on edge and has her slinking away to the farest side of the sofa.

 

The door opens again and Eugene some stumbling through.

 

“I have a plan to get us out of this.” Eugene steps into the room the door shutting behind him.

 

Negan grins leaning back in his chair arms crossed over his chest. Pandora can feel the smug look in his face, he knew all along Eugene would come through. With the right mix of praise and fear anything is possible.

 

Pandora watches from the corner of the room, still and silent. The rest of the generals in the room hold their breath waiting for Eugene to keep going.

 

“With the dead down at the stairs we blocked them be creating enough of a pile of dead bodies. If we have shooters at the windows above the walkers, we can fire enough bullets to create the same effect, leave enough of a path for a small team to get through and clear the way.”

 

Pandora titles her head to the side shutting her eyes for a second. Her brain has always had a knack for plans seeing movements and how they are going to play put. Maybe that was what made her such a good gymnast, her ability to see her moves and their potential outcomes.

 

Her movement slow she gets off the sofa slipping soundlessly to Negan’s side. The conversation does not stop when she joins Negan’s side. Pandora doesn’t like these men, so she leans down for only Negan to hear.

 

“What happens when they get out? Where will they go?”

 

Negan turns to her a wicked glint in his eyes, “Come sit at the table Princess.”

 

Pandora feels the heat rising in her cheeks as she pulls out a chair to sit next to him. Somehow the room has fallen silent, she is not as unnoticed as she once thought. It bothers her to have them see her now, to know she is there.  Glance around the room tell her everyone is watching her now, their conversation stopped.

 

“Come on now Princess what is your input.” Negan had a hand on her knee now, a welcome grounding pressure.

 

“They need a plan for when they get out.”

 

Negan looks at the room, his eyebrows raised. “Well Dr Smartypants? Answer her question.”

 

Silence is his only answer, and everyone's answer until Dwight finally speaks.

 

“They go down service road south to the cars we have left there and lead the dead away.”

 

“It will take an ass-load of ammo.” Negan’s hand is gone from her knee he stokes the stuble growing on his chin.

 

“It will,” Eugene shakes his head and even Pandora sees there is no other way. “Even with shot discipline and p and q minding.”

 

“Can my bullet maker fill my guns back up?” Negan has lost the smile he had, now he stares eyes hard.

 

That’s right the whole reason |Eugene is here is to make bullets. Because he made one, for Rosita and she had almost killed Negan. What would Pandora had done if he had died. She had not been there for that, had not seen him go that day. Why she can remember maybe she was still in the box than.

 

“If you get me to my machines or my machines to me that is affirmative.”

 

Pandora had not been in the same room with Eugene for so long before, it is making her uneasy. She wondering what he thinks of her, Negan’s perfect little pet. Does he wonder what she thinks of him. She thinks he is doing the right thing, he is on the right side. Sometimes it's only about staying alive.

 

“You do realize the shit storm I ’m going to dump on Rick as soon as I am clear of the shit storm he dumped on me.”

 

“I do indeed .”

 

Even pandora nods she knows they cannot let thing attack go.

 

“Goddamn Eugene how does it feel to be the second most important person here? How does it feel to save these good people?” Negan is standing now grinning he reaches for Lucille where she is leaning against the wall.

 

“It feels great. Got something else of urgency for you. Another item solved.”

 

“More than a way out and a promise of bullets on the way Jesus Eugene you are magnificent .”

 

Before he could say anything word, there is another knock on the door. Pandora looks toward the door, Aart and another women enter, Regina. This is too many people now, and her input is no longer needed here. Not with all his  generals standing around.

 

So she retreats to his room, shuts the door to keep out the noise and pulls the first book she finds on his desk. The bedroom is more lived in than the living room. Here there is his desk scattered with pages, and half filled notes books. Pandora doesn't reach for any of those know better than to go through his personal notes, instead in her hands she holds “The Art of War.” She cannot help but laugh at this , of course this is the book he has out right now.

 

Negan’s bed calls to her, whispering of the sweet softness that must come from all those pillows. For a man she cannot help but think his room must have been designed by a woman. One of his wives maybe? It doesn't matter she likes them, so she nestles between the pillows and opens the book.

 

It’s not her usual read, but there is enough of a dose of history in it to keep her interested. To her surprise the words actually suck her in, and before she knows it Negan is opening the door.

 

“Wondering what you might be up to in here Princess.” he doesn't step in the room only watches her from the door frame arms crossed over his chest.

 

Pandora holds out the book to him showing off the cover, “I’ve never read this one.”

 

“This one?”

 

Reaching over to the bedside table to marks her page with a blank page she had taken from the desk. “In school I always preferred Nietzsche.”

 

Negan laughs shaking his head, “Every damn day you surprise me Princess.”

 

That’s because everyone thinks she is just crazy, no one thinks that maybe before all of this she was a whole person. Instead they assume that maybe she had always been like this, silent and insane. Not Negan though he knew better, recognized her from the first moment he laid eyes on her. He was the only one.

 

“It’s getting too late to make this shit work tonight, but as soon as the sun comes up we are getting out of here.”

 

“It’s safe to sleep with all the dead inside?” This cannot be right how can they all just sit here with the lower level being over run.  

 

“Are you scared?”

 

“Of being eaten alive? Always .”

 

Negan moves into the room sitting on the edge of the bed his face falls for only a second before he puts himself back together for her.

 

“I admit it's not the perfect plan, but we can’t shoot those fuckers in the dark.”

 

“I guess.”

 

“You already look pretty comfy why don’t you stay here tonight Princess, I’ll keep and eye on you.”

 

A shrug of her shoulders is the only answer, but she will stay here tonight. Let him being in the room calm the buzzing nerves on her skin.  “Can I go work out with Aart?”

 

“She busy planning for tomorrow morning, bit I’ll come with you Princess.”

 

“Ok,” The book goes back on the desk and Pandora looks down at her clothes, they will work. “I need my running shoes.”  

 

At first she thinks Negan will spar with her, but he doesn't change his clothes only walks her back to her room so she can get her shoes. On the way to the gym someone follows him updating him on the situation downstairs. They have blocked the open door with the bodies of the dead like they did with the stairs. A team is working on clearing the dead from the main level, there had been some lives lost mostly workers.

 

The man follows them to the workout room, but neither of them come inside. When Pandora opens the door, she is greeted with a few people she doesn't know. It doesn't last long to the moment they see her they are gathering there things to leave. In that moment she is of two minds, telling them to stay and being glad they are gone . They are gone before she can decide, so she works out alone.

 

On the far wall there is a new beam secured to the wall. Her heart kicks up a beat, it reminds her of the gyms she used to train in. That's the first place she goes propping one leg on the beam to stretch. It's painfully but the sweet kind of pain, that reminded her she has muscles to use.

 

Pandora is taking her bound up energy out on the punching back at the center of the room. There is a rack of gloves against the wall, only one pair has fit but it was a good fit. Her kick missed the bag the force of it sending her spinning to the ground the second Negan opens the door to step in.

 

On her add on the floor she lies back looking at the ceiling, "My kick missed." This is what she says in lieu of a greeting.

 

"Is that so?" There is a chuckle in his voice as he heads towards her. "Let me see."

 

She isn't sure she wants to get back up, but she does because Negan told her too. Picking herself up from the ground there are a few minutes of her collecting her breath before getting into position.

 

"Well there's your first problem." Negan is behind her his hands find her hips shifting her to the left slightly . "Your stance is off like this." His hands continue to move her ever so slightly until her hips are turned more towards him and her feet are more apart.

 

"Try like this, always protect your face." Negan is beside her now his hands closed into fists in front of his face. He lifts his left leg and kicks straight out. The punching bag swings away with the force of his kick when he finally lets his leg go, only for him to catch it as it swings back towards them.

 

"Oh, I don't think I can do that."

 

Negan only grins and steps behind the bag, "Now, now Princess that's not a good attitude."

 

"But!"

 

"Try it."

 

Pandora sighs shutting her eyes and taking a deep breath. In her head she replays the same movements Negan just showed her. Her hands tightened into fists and raise up to her face. In her head she replays Negan’s movements in her head recalling the exact position of his leg.

 

“Raise your knee up, keep it straight and put all your weight behind it.”

“Ok,” Pandora opens her eyes shakes her arms and raises them again. Her knees comes up to her chest, then out and connects with the bag. Negan is behind it holding it steady so it doesn't swing but he grunts with the force of her kick.

 

“There you go Princess.” Stepping out from behind the bag Negan is wearing a wicked grin.

 

It's contagious, and she finds herself wearing a matching one. Her leg is on fire though, the shock of the kick vibrating up her leg now.

 

“Fuck, that kind of hurt.” she thinks now might be the time to wrap it up.

 

Negan has his hand on her shoulder with a light grip, “Come on Princess let’s go back.”

Notes:

Omg you read all the way to the end. Can I say how much I love you for it! what do you think? Is Daryl losing his mind? Who knows!!

Chapter 49: The Princess

Notes:

Hey! Here we go! I literally re worked this chapter maybe ten times, this is why you might have thought I died hahaha. I'm fine still here, still writing. This is my break piece when I hit a road block in the novel I come here to write this!

Negan takes her back to her room, in less than five minutes she has a bag packed. It's only a few things, something to sleep in, an outfit for tomorrow and toiletries. When Pandora comes out of the bathroom Negan is watching her an eyebrow raised.

 

“I'm not sleeping here.” she says matter-of-factly as she walks past him outside. “You promised.”

 

“Forgot for a second got a lot on my mind here Princess.”

 

In his room dinner is already there, but Pandora steps past him without a word and to the shower.

 

Under the water her own doom plays every time she closes her eyes. She pictures the dead climbing over the steps and tearing them all apart. Pandora stops shutting her eyes, letting the soap sting them painfully as she washes her hair.

 

There is no need for her real clothes now. Instead, she slips into what she intends to sleep in. A black pair of tights with a long navy blue t-shirt.  Pandora coats her thick waves in product running her fingers to untie the knots.

 

When she comes back into the room Negan is sitting at the table eating a bowl of soup.

 

“It’s getting cold.” He says jerking his head towards the bowl on the table opposite of him.

 

Pandora slips into the chair and starts eating , “Sorry.”

 

Negan gets up from the table moving behind her into the kitchen. When he comes back, he has two mugs and a bottle of wine. Pouring her a mug she sets it in front of her before filling his own and sitting down.

 

Pandora empties the mug in a few gulps and holds it out for a refill.

 

“What ’ s wrong Princess?”

 

“They are trying to kill all of us.”

 

Negan only shakes his head and refills her mug. There is a long stretch of silence as he gets settled back in his chair picking up the bowl of soup.

 

The wine Pandora drinks goes straight to her head, mostly because her stomach is empty. Not that she minds, there are dead inside anything to calm her nerves.  From across the table Negan clears his throat jerking his head to her still full bowl of soup.

 

“You need to eat. It's too early to be drunk already.”

 

The dead on the lower level of their home tell a different story. She should have been drunk a long time ago. Instead she eats letting the food sit in her stomach. It's a little late for the food to help, the buzz is already making a home in a head.

 

They don't talk as they eat, Pandora is careful to finish her bowl before reaching for the mug again. This time the liquid is warm in her stomach, the warmth spreading throughout her limbs. It's almost enough to make her forget that their death is down stairs.  

 

" They really did it this time. " Negen is leaning back in his chair pinching the bridge of his nose.

 

Unsure of what to say next Pandora clears the table, refilling his mug as she passes him. Everything is crumbling down around them, and he cannot seem to stop it. She feels that around her more and more with each hour. Most of her is terrified but there is a small part of her that feels a strange sense of relief, that part is small though.

 

When she's washed the dishes Negan moves into the next room, she can simply hear the sound of shifting pages. Drying her hands on a small towel on the counter she takes her mug and the bottle following him into the bedroom. Refilling his mug as she passes him Pandora heads right for the bed. The book she had been reading is still sitting on the bedside table, she picks it up and reads while  Negan goes over plans.

After she had read the same sentence twice Pandora thinks maybe she has had too much wine for this. Instead she takes her mug again and refills it from the bedside table.

 

Negan turns his head and raises his eyebrow at her.

 

" What? " The question is accompanied by a slight wrinkle in her nose as she watches him.

" Becoming quite the wino there, huh? "

 

He had put the papers on his desk away, tucking them all away into a notebook. Then he kicks off his shoes joining her to relax on the bed. Outside the sun is setting painting the room in dirty fading light. Somehow she cannot picture them sleeping, even with the wine.

 

" It's how I cope now, " Pandora refills his own mug. " I could go back to being a basket case. "

 

It's an off handed comment she thinks is innocent enough a mere statement of fact, Negan on the other hand doesn't feel the same. He is turning to her, encasing her cold hand with his own warm one. These are the times she wonders about him, about the motive behind picking her out of the line up that night.

 

" Pandora I'm not proud of how your time with me started you know that right? "

 

Pandora only shrugs trying to pull her hand away, which he doesn't allow. This is a topic that hurts her head, too many images that all too different to make sense. The now is better, if she stays rooted in the present she knows where Negan keeps her safe and everyone in Alexandria wants them all dead.

 

" I want you to be happy and feel safe, that's why I saved you. "

 

"I know " His eyes are locked on her hand and she is picturing the warmth of him unfreezing the blood in her veins. "It's fine now you know, but there will always be something broken up here." Her finger taps her temple. This is something she accepted the world is broken now and so is she.  

 

“I would have killed all those men for you Princess, burned everything down.”

 

There is a long stretch of silence between them, his statement makes a heat rise in her face. Negan stares at her his eyes glistening  “I don ’ t understand you sometimes.”

 

“What don ’ t you understand,” He takes his mug again filling it half way, they have already drank half the bottle. “Ask away.”

There is a misfire in her brain, there is no question no, not one she wants to ask. Or maybe there is a small dark pearl in her head that gets bigger when she thinks about it.

 

“Come on Princess what do you want to know?”

 

Pandora shakes her head drowning the rest of the wine in her glass in a few quick gulps. “Why do you keep me around?” She had always wondered what it was about her that interested him.  What made him keep her here, in his room at his side. He could have any other woman he wanted to keep him company instead he picked her, how long has it even been since he had seen his wives.

 

“I like you Pandora.” There is more she knows it when she pulls her eyes away from his hand still gripping her own he is watching her. “I think you went through some fucked up shit and you deserve someone to help you through it. I looked up to you taught everyone of my fucking students about you, the raw talent the passion you had. You inspired them, so I wanted to return the favor .”

 

His words are too heavy for this room and how light she feels now. They make her eyes sting and before she can stop it her cheeks are marked with tears.  Here in the end of the world she'd found someone who knew her, knew her when she was a whole person.

 

“I hardly remember that girl anymore.” Pandora whispers using her free hand to wipe at her eyes. “I can ’ t be her .”

 

“Then don ’ t be, be someone else, someone new.”

 

Negan takes his hand from hers taking the mug and filling it again, this time Pandora laughs. Negan only cocks his eyebrow in question.

 

“You ’ re giving the crying PTSD suffering woman more wine.”

 

Negan grins pillowing his head on his arm behind him, “You asked didn ’ t you? Haven ’ t you learned I can ’ t say no to those puppy dog eyes Princess. ”

 

“Oh really ?” There is a glint in her eyes. “Then can we go look at the stars?”

Negan doesn ’ t answer instead the darkening room is filled with the sound of his laughter. “You know if I said that to one of my wives they ’ d be asking me for an iPad or some shit. God damn Princess and you wonder I keep you around instead. Finish your drink lets go.”

 

Pandora does as she is told emptying to mug in a few quick gulps. Negan takes the mug returning them to the kitchen sink before she had even gotten up from the bed. The moment she does her head spins vision taking a second to catch up with the movement of her eyes.

 

“Oh fuck.” her hand grips the bedpost knuckles white. “I am drunker than I thought.”

 

Negan is beside her in moments a firm hand on her elbow keeping her steady. “Don ’ t think you ’ re making it up there Princess.”

 

“No it ’ s fine,” In her mouth her tongue it thick and too big. She trips over her words slurring them ever so slightly . “You can help me.”

 

The halls are more crowded than usual, two men fall into line behind them. They had closed off the two levels closest to the lower floor, just to be safe . Everyone in the halls is heavily armed eyes trained on the lower levels. As they move the sea of people move for them, clearing a path. They don't need a lot of space Pandora is standing directly in front of Negan who leads her by the elbows.

 

The steps up prove to be more difficult than she thinks but Negan is behind her a solid steady presence, he keeps her steady. Up there it ’ s almost empty there are a few bodies lounging on the sofas.

 

When Negan steps in with her she tugs him to the sofa with the clearest view of the skies. A few of his wives are there lounging and smoking they looked up the moment Negan looming over them.

 

“Ladies I ’m in need of this space, go smoke somewhere else.”

There is a woman there she doesn ’ t know her name, but she had seen her before. Her dark skin shines in the scattered lanterns, lips painted in a bright red colour .  She smiles at him, but the glare she gives Pandora is nothing but malace . The other women get up and head for the door but she is slower.

 

“Ya should marry her already, stop all this bullshit.”   The statement is thrown over her shoulder as she makes a of walking away.

 

The wine makes Pandora quick, “He did say I was less demanding than you would be.” She doesn't even want to to marry him, that stupid. But her tongue is nasty and quick so it let ’ s spill the first thing she can think of. Pandora wouldn ’ t marry him, it isn't like that between them, it just isn ’ t.

 

“Oh my oh my wine makes her spicy ladies.” Negan is booming with laughter.

 

Shaky steps lead her to the now empty sofa she doesn ’ t care enough to watch them leave. The sofa is soft under her the sky is bright and clear, stars bright beacons in the sky. The outdoor sofa they are sitting on is an l shape, Pandora on one side Negan on the other. She lays on her back looking straight up through the glass ceiling.

 

“Most of the stars up there are already dead.” Pandora whispers the wine is shifting gears slow her down rather than wind her up. “Light travels at 300,000 km per second by the time the light reaches us the stars are gone. We are looking into the past.”

 

“Where did you learn about stars Princess?” Negan’s voice is a deep rumble floating to her in the growing darkness.

 

“You can’t learn history without learning about the stars. They helped us understand the universe.” Pandora takes his hand tracing the sky with her pointer finger. “That is centus an ancient Greek sea monster, and that is Hercules names after the half god hero from Greece.”

 

Pandora lets her hand fall now linking her hands and resting them on her stomach. There is no other movement in the sky, all the satellites and spaceships have long since gone dark. Only the stars are left.

 

“You know some interesting things huh Princess.”

 

“I guess, tell me a story about before.”

 

Negan does spilling out a story about him and his wife, he doesn't even get halfway through before she is sleeping soundly.

The next thing she remembers is a bright white light cutting the darkness of her eyelids. Someone is touching her, shaking her shoulder a little.

“Gonna go get this show on the road you--”

 

When she opens her eyes, she can see Negan hovering over her, bright morning sunlight filling the room. “Can I watch?” She asks rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

 

There is quite the large hole in her memory from last night. She remembers dinner, and the wine. She remembers going up to the roof and talking about the stars, Negan ’ s voice than nothing. She must have fallen asleep on the roof, and he brought her back to his room.

 

A raised eyebrow than a shrug but Negan answers  “Why the fuck not.”

 

When she sits up her head is pounding mouth dry. Negan must have been up for some time because he is showered and freshly dressed. He hands her two white pills and a glass of water. Taking the pills she drowns the glass before slipping into the bathroom quickly. A shower is out of the question, she knows they are waiting for her now. So instead she changed, washes her face and wets her hair taming the waves.

 

They go up to a ledge that looks down on the dead. There are two large double doors here, one has been blown open by a truck that's how the dead got inside. The other is blocked by a mass of dead bodies, all clamouring for a way inside. In the night they had been able to clear the dead out and close the door, now only the ones outside were left .

 

The rest of his generals are here fanned out around him. Pandora is stationed to his right. But Dwight is on her left side and she feels too exposed too close. So she moves slipping away to the front where she can be alone.

 

It ’ s hot out here, the morning sun is shining full strength down on them. It makes the air stink, filling the once sweet breeze with nothing but the smell of rotting flesh. Pandora shields her eyes from the sun trying to breathe through her nose only. There isn ’ t a cloud in the sky right now, it's just a clear bright blue. Just like it had been last night when she fell asleep under the stars.

 

Below the dead clamour to get inside, long dead hands scraping at the doors and windows. They can't open them thank god, not enough brain power or muscle control to open doors. Thank god she hasn’t eaten yet, or else it might be all over the pavement right now.

 

It's odd that she isn't a shaking drugged up mess right now. There are dead things 20 deep surrounding her. It seems like nothing to her, they would get out. Of course they would, because Negan doesn't break promises, and he promised to save her and all of these people.

 

“On my word begin firing at the designated areas.” Eugene is talking into a walkie to what she assumes are the people with guns stationed at the windows. “And commence .”

 

The air that had just been filled with the sounds dead now explodes with the sound of gunfire. She knew it was coming, and she still jumped almost out of her skin. The shooters from the windows unload a huge amount of bullets, and the wall of dead bodies Eugene wanted starts to take form. They don ’ t kill all the dead, they don't need to. They all clamour towards the sound crushing each other as they attempt to climb towards the sound. They pile on top of each other, the ones who are still moving reaching out for something, anything.

 

The door hidden under the ledge must have been clear enough to open, because there were human bodies moving amongst the dead now. A small group of Negan ’ s men are moving within the pathway the shooting has cleared. She doesn ’ t know them except for the women in the back, with her tight curls bound under a red bandana. Her heart tightened painfully in her throat, she could suddenly picture than so clearly the dead pouring over the walls to rip them apart.

 

It ’ s so clear in her head. There is a breach in the wall, the dead come slipping over too many for them to shoot at. They would try though because they are Negan ’ s men, and Negan gave them a job to do so they would try to do it. They would put up a good fight too, the people with guns in the windows would help. But they would climb on their ledge Pandora would be forced to watch in horror while they are ripped apart by the dead.

 

With a swift jerk she is on her feet again moving past the other bodies watching to find Negan. He is standing in the back closest to the door Simon at his side, eyes glued to the action below. Slipping up beside him she pressed into him only slightly , he puts his arm around her shoulder solid and heavy. It grounds her, reminds her where she is and let focus. Like Daryl used to do for her.

 

A sigh slips past her half-open lips, and she can watch again. Negan doesn’t say anything , only accepts her standing at his side. The group has made it out to the fence now, and they were splitting up some going to the right some off to the left. in seconds they dead have forgotten and go back to the doors and the walls. That sends a little shock of panic when she thinks about being trapped in here again.

 

No one moves though, and then she hears it. The sound of cars crunching on the road and them honking their horns. The dead pause all of them for a few long seconds than they are moving in the direct of the sound and the cars. Five cars lead the dead away, their horns cutting through the noise. It works the dead all begin to turn and before long they are moving as a mass towards the sound.

 

Seconds tick by and Pandora ’ s breath is escaping from her mouth she forgot she had been holding it. Negan gives her another tight squeeze, and she softens again. Another two groups appear then, the first is small only five people. The second group is larger almost ten, but they are moving so much it's hard to count them. The first smaller group runs for the gates. They have welding tool and scrap metal to fix anything broken. They work quickly to repair to fences, as they work the second group kills any walkers that did leave with the rest.

 

They begin to pull the bodies as far away from the building as they could than lighting them on fire. Pandora guessed they didn't want to risk opening the gates so soon. Thick black smoke twists and curls it way higher into the bright sky. When Pandora looks around her, she is alone with Negan, everyone else is gone.

 

“I have to go kill some of them now.” Negan mutters his fingers scratching at his growing beard. “I didn't want to that.”

 

Pandora doesn ’ t speak, she isn't sure she could even if she wanted to, actually. Instead she stands there still in silence. She knows he doesn't want to kill anyone, people are important they make all of this work. But it wasn't working right now, because they had been surrounded by the dead than had a truck driven at them. Did they even remember she was here with him, his pretty little Princess. It didn ’ t matter she guessed, she was fine Negan kept her safe.

 

“I'll see you later Princess.”

 

Pandora ’ s eyes snap up to him catching his gaze before he turns away, “I'm staying here?”

 

Negan sighs running his hand over his bread. She watches him hard, he usually brings her. It used to be for the threat of violence against her when the people of Alexandria stepped out of line. But now, now he promised he would never hurt her. He still brought her along  the last time even though he wouldn't hurt her.

 

“You want to come? I 'm going to unleash hell on them Princess.”

 

She does want to come, she isn't sure why but she does. If she looks hard enough, thinks hard enough she could find a reason. Right now Negan isn't asking for a reason he is just asking for a yes or no.

 

“I know.”

Notes:

So? I'm really enjoying watching Pandora flex her muscles a little bit and find her footing. Even if its super messed up! Let me know what you think!

Chapter 50: Ask for anything

Notes:

You all might hate me, and I might just love it honestly. Tell me all your stuff and things in the comments <3

When the air fills with thick black smoke Pandora makes the choice the go inside. They layout of this place is getting easier to remember, and she is already on her way to her room before she notices Dave following a few steps behind her. 

 

“Do you ever get time off?” She asks once she has slowed down to allow him to catch up with her. Why make it weird. 

 

“What?” 

 

Pandora quickly glances at him wondering if he had in fact not heard her. Instead of finding Dave's confused face, he is smiling. This prompts her to roll her eyes, a bit of her old self resurfacing. 

 

“Do you do anything but follow me around?” 

 

“Ya Princess I sleep, play poker on my days off. Other people take the night shift.” 

 

“Oh.” 

 

“Are you tagging along tonight?” 

 

Up a flight of stairs out into a hallway and her room is going to on the right. “If he lets me.”

 

Dave laughs than, nothing like Negan a rough wheezing sound that makes her wonder if he smoked a lot. 

 

“If you want it to happen it happens, you should know that. Rumor mill is spinning after last night already.” 

 

The redness creeps up her neck making her cheeks hot. She didn't think anyone would be talking about that. When she is around Negan, it is sometimes hard to remember there is a world outside of him. His presence seems large enough to be everything, but there are other people and apparently they have been watching. 

 

She didn't think the nickname he had given her that bloody night would be so true, but here they are Pandora Princess getting of anything she wants. Maybe Dave was right maybe she would get going tonight just because she asked. 

 

In her room there is food waiting in the fridge, some pasta dishes. Pandora eats without really tasting it, everything tasted like ash right now. She had not been out for a long left when they started burning the dead like trash but still all she can taste is burning. She eats anyway though even if it taste like the dead. 

 

Her little kitchen is clean when she leaves it. It is always clean, she always cleaned her own space. Before the world was burning, she used cleaning as a way to wind down, even though she was moving it was an easy way to clear her head. After practice she would come home in the morning and clean her room, not even changing from her clothes just cleaning. 

 

Now she takes a book to her big chair, half reads and half watches the never ending hive of activity under her window. Trucks are getting loaded men are moving and buzzing about. Some of them speak into tiny black boxes. The war is going to end soon she can feel it Negan has too much rage, this will end bloody. 

 

The sun is setting in the sky when she hears a knock on her door, a second later its opening the knock pointless. 

 

Negan is shutting the door behind him, “Hey there Princess. What are you reading?”

 

Pandora has to look down at her lap to remember she had put it down some time ago to watch a fight break up in the space outside her window. 

 

“The Iliad.” she replies, “always good to reread a classic.”

 

“If you say so,” He tosses a black backpack on her bed. “Still want to come tonight.” 

 

“Ya.” something always happens when she gets left behind, better to go. Better to know what happened. The world is growing ever dangerous, Negan has proven time and time again she is safe with him. 

 

“Then pack some clothes, got other shit you might need.” 

 

Pandora pulls the zipper open on the bag, inside there is a small bag. It filled with travel sized products for her hair and face, there is even a travel sized curl cream like the one in her bathroom. “Where did you get this?” she asks with a tinge of laugher in her voice. 

 

“What? Asked one of my wives to pack it for you, she knew her shit.” 

 

Pandora shakes her head, but she is smiling when she passed him for her closet she touches his arm lightly, “Thank you.” it doesn't take her long to collect some clothes, Negan stands in the kitchen watching her. 

 

In seconds Pandora has a pair of tights, jeans sweaters and tank tops. Slipping it onto her back she heads for the door, Negan already there. 

 

In her head she keeps track of each turn they take, each staircase they go down. She cannot see much from where she is behind Negan. There are people moving all about her, they had left her guard at the door she can only assume. When they get outside there is more space to breathe, and they walk towards a line a cars. 

 

It is already getting dark the sky turning a hue of pink, if she remembers right they will not get there until the sun has already set. The darkness will be the perfect cover, everything he does is for a reason. 

 

There is a sleek black car in the middle of the line of vehicles and Negan stops beside it. There are two men standing there guns over their shoulders. 

 

“Well boys come meet the princess.” Negan waves them over and they nod at her. “Keep en eye on her tonight, she stays with the convoy no where else.” 

 

Pandora has never seen these men before, she wonders where Dave has gone. Left behind maybe he worked all day. These men are younger, she would say mid 20s if she had to field a guess. She nods at them hand on the handle of the back seat. 

 

“One more rule the most important one, Princess?” 

 

“Don't touch me.” Pandora snaps eyeing them carefully. This had been a problem with anyone new around her. Physical contact was still a sore spot for her, it usually trigger a very violent response. 

 

“That’s right, you are not to put a fucking on her. If you do, she has full permission to kill you.” Negan laughs at their faces he is closer and can see better, Pandora assumes the look is shock. 

 

She would never kill them on purpose but accidents happen all the time. 

 

“Car ahead is for you boys when we stop you stand guard.” Negan takes her hand and moves it from the handle opening the door and crushing her inside. 

 

He takes the passenger seat once he's inside. From where he sits he passes her what looks like a hand-rolled cigarette. 

 

“What is this?” 

 

“Weed Princess, one of my guys has been working on it, try it out.” 

 

With everything else swimming in her system she can see how this would be any worse. She has a habit of taking xanax on the regular how harmful can weed be. Negan lights it for her and after the first lung full of breath she is doubled over in the back seat hacking out a lung. 

 

From the front Negan is booming with laughter handing her a bottle of water to help with the burning. It helps and when she finally stops coughing, there is a feather light feeling beginning in her fingers. 

 

“Oh this is nice.” as they drive Pandora smoked it down to the filter leaning her head out the window wind whipping her hair. 

 

Before she knows it they are pulling up to the gates of Alexandria in the complete darkness. Before he gets out Negan hands her another small white roll and a lighter. 

 

“Smoke that later if you want, but stay here I’ll come back when it’s over.”  

 

Once outside Negan is giving silent directions with just the movement of his hands. Pandora watches the men and women around him nod and move away. Negan is the puppet master pulling the strings of everyone around him. What happens when the strings are cut does someone else step up or does everyone else remember their place like she does. 

 

“You may be wondering why the hell your lookouts did sound the alarm,” Negan has a microphone his voice rings out in the night sky. “See, we are polite. I mean, I don't know when they're gonna wake up from that kinda shot, but they should wake up. So let's just cut through the cow shit -- you lose. It's over. So you're gonna line up in front of your little houses, and you're gonna work up some apologies, and then the person with the lamest one is gonna get killed. Then I kill Rick in front of everybody, and we move on. You have three -- count 'em, three minutes to open this gate, or we start bombing the shit out of you!” Negan pauses and even from the car a few cars from the gate she can see the grin he is wearing. Holding the microphone up to his lips be begins whistling.

 

At every turn Negan tries to preserve life the best be can, once she had not been able to see that but now she can. He is giving them time to come to the terms of their lose themselves. From what she knows about Rick he will not open the gates for them. No this will have to end in blood as much as everyone would rather it didn’t. Blood on both sides really, maybe even some of her own blood since she is here in the back seat. 

 

“Two minutes, people! Dig deep. I want these apologies to be memorable. Bonus points for creativity. Work up a poem, sing a song. I love that shit.” Negan drops the microphone to his side and turns to the man to this right. “Get it ready we are going to bomb the shit out of this place.” 

 

The car is beginning to feel too small, no matter how she shifts her body in the seat nothing is comfortable. All the doors are unlocked she notices head rolling, the weed is making her slow but also so calm. When she opens the passaged door, the chill of night air covers her like water and she is laughing a feeling of it. 

 

The men watching her turn and for a few long seconds they all stare at each other in silence. Then they turn away back to watching the front gate. Pandora slips the rolled joint behind her ear holding onto the lighter. For a while she sits with her legs on the ground hanging out of the car. But the stars over her head are so beautiful she wants nothing more than to watch them in the sky. 

There is a white truck a few cars ahead of them Pandora is moving for it before she really makes the choice too. 

 

“Hey!” 

 

Whipping her head around she grins at the man calling to her, “I'm going on the top of that truck, which is still in the convoy. So wait here or follow.” a part of her has to admit that she loves the power being given to her. How many times had she pushed against Daryl’s control in her recovery. Negan allowed her to steer the ship for the most part, and it was exhilarating. 

 

The truck she has spotted has a ladder wheeled to the side, it takes her no time to climb to the top. Once there she lights the second joint breathing in the deep smoke, this time no coughing. 

 

“Okey Dokey. Brought this on yourself, Rick. See, I was willing to work with you. All you had to do was follow a few very simple rules. Now -- Well, now I see that you got to go. Scorched earth, you dick!” 

 

Negan’s tone makes Pandora seek him, rolling her head lazily to the side to find him. The men set the guard her had followed both standing in front of the truck speaking in low hushed tones. Probably complaining about her attitude, not that it mattered. 

 

“He’s not home!” a voice she would know anywhere rings out into the night. 

 

Flicking out the last of her joint Pandora pulls herself up into a sitting position. Its slow and the world around her seems to glow with an unnatural light. She almost gets lost in the stars a second time.  

 

“Oh-ho-holy shit! Everybody hold your fire. It's Carl. Look at you. Answering the door like a big boy. I am so proud. Daddy's not home, huh? Well, I guess he's gonna get back to a big old smoky surprise.” 

 

Negan speaks and Pandore allows her gaze to shift to Carl. He stands on top of the wall, she can only make out his shape light by Alexandria behind him.  She wonders what this is, because nothing to how it seems it this war, nothing. 

“There are families here. Kids, my little sister.” Carl is shouting he doesn't have a mega phone like Negan. The shouting makes it easier for her to hear the shaky quality of his voice. Some time ago what feels like years she used to be included in the group he called family, now she is not so sure. 

 

“Well that shit just breaks my heart. There at the Sanctuary, you must have seen them. Even a little baby at one of the outposts. Wonder what happened to her. I have Pandora at the Sanctuary remember? Had to bring her here with me keep her safe from you fuckers.” Negan shakes his head holding lucille loose in his hand. “None of this shit's fair, kid. Hell, you know that. You had to kill your own mom. That is screwed up. Ergo, we need someone in charge who's willing to do whatever it takes to make sure that shit doesn't happen. Oh. Wait. That's me.” 

 

“Bad stuff does happen, but we can figure this out. We can stop this.” 

 

“Oh so now you want to talk?!” Negan is shouting now his affection for Carl wavering. “See, your dad had it that I died, He gave my people a choice. Not me. Now we're gonna need a new understanding. Apologies, punish--” 

 

“Kill me!” The desperate shout of someone watching their plan unravel. Pandora should feel something about his shouted proposal, but she doesn’t, really. 

 

Negan on the other hand is heated, “What did you say?” His voice has a low dangerous tone, she no longer wants to go to him better to leave him now. 

 

Somehow this feels like a movie, like she is watching this happen removed from everything. That is probably the weed, maybe she shouldn’t have had so much in such a short time. 

 

“If you have to kill someone, if there has to be punishment, then kill me. I'm serious.” Carl must look serious because there is a silence in the night air now. 

 

“You wanna die?”

 

“No, I don't. But I will. It's gonna happen. And I-- if me dying could stop this, if it can make things different -- for us, for you, for all those other kids -- it'd be worth it.”

 

There is a silence around her now as Negan and Carl stare at each other from their sides of the wall. Pandora can feel her heart squeeze painful, she cannot allow Negan to kill Carl, she just can’t. This isn't his fault, not maybe Rick never gave him a choice in this flight. They cannot kill children. 

 

“I mean was this the plan? Was it supposed to be this way? Is this who you wanted to be?” 

 

That stings even thought she knows Carl isn't talking to her at all, it still hurts. Because she has come so far from who she wanted to be that she isn't even sure who that person was anymore. 

 

The silence that has fallen is broken by a symphony of sounds, so many it's hard to pull one from the din. Guns firing, glass shattering, shouting, metal grinding. A line of garbage trucks blows through the metal fence taking out some cars in their convoy. Her own guard are holding their guns out now both have their eyes glued to the chaos exploding around them. 

“Son of a bitch, Carl! Was that just a play?! I thought we were having' a moment, you little asshole! Bombs away!” 

 

There is more noise now, huge explosions on the other side of the gates. For brief flashes it is day time, the flames blasting away for darkness. It hard not to find it so beautiful. Man around her are screaming, at each other or at no one. Her men are screaming at her she sees them now, doesn’t hear them but sees them calling to her. 

 

Then they stop both slumped over on the ground red lines dripping from their heads. In seconds Pandora is down at the ladder her hand touching the fresh bullet wound. This isn't right, it was not supposed to happen like this. She should get back in the car and wait someone would find her. 

 

“Pandora!” Just as she makes the move to turn someone shouts for her. For a second she is sure it’s Negan. But then through the smoke she can see Carl. Her hand reaching out gripping his arm painful, because maybe he is just a product of her mind something familiar in the panic. 

 

Carl doesn’t speak again just begins pulling her along with him.  She goes with him for a second because it’s easy, but when she passes into the front gates, she stopped in her tracks. 

 

“No wait!” 

 

Then she hears him Negan telling his men to spread out and search everything, he would wait at Ricks. Pandora wants to follow the sound but Carl doesn’t allow it. He only touches his side and pulled her forward. 

 

“On the ground kid!” 

 

Pandora whips her head around, she doesn’t know these men but she is relieved. ‘Take me back’ she wants to scream but somehow her mouth has refused to open. The surrounding air is suddenly so thick with smoke Pandora is sure that she is going to die. 

 

Pop, pop, pop. Three small sounds cutting through the smoke, mostly harmless. Mostly because of the pops finds a home buried in Pandora’s left side. Her mind shots awake in time to scream, not in time to break her down fall and she goes down hard. Stars explode in her vision when her head hits the floor, but only for a second then everything goes dark. 

 

“It’s over.” Dwight’s voice rings out into the night when he called them waiting in the trees.

 

Daryl is the first through the trees, he had been nothing but rage the moment he heard Pandora’s name. Everything they were doing here was so time sensitive that one thing was missed it was over. Oh how he had almost left them all in the woods, the moment the bombs began going off and the flames light the sky he was ready to go. 

 

Rosita had almost shot him where he stood, and he had almost let her. Thinking be must be able to run with a bullet hole, he had lived through the line up with one after all. He didn’t leave thought because Michonne is forever his voice of reason, she goes over the plan again reminding him why they are here. They will go back she promises him she will go back with him. 

 

So instead he is standing in front of Dwight crossbow in the other mans face trying to form his thoughts into a sentence. 

 

“I made sure you guys got out the back! I drove the convoy right up to the road black, I knew what it was. I can’t go back. One of em got away. She’s gonna tell them.” Dwight is pleading for his life, Daryl is finding it hard to hear over the pounding of his own blood. 

 

“Is Pandora here?” Finally he cannot bear to listen to the other man talk for a second longer. 

 

“She’s here! I swear to God Negan brought her and left her in the cars.”  

 

That causes Daryl’s arm to sag lowering the gun a fraction. 

 

“Eugene got us out  I can still help you. I know how they work, how Negan thinks. I want you to win. I want Negan to die. And we can settle up after.” 

 

Daryl pulls him too his feet tugging his long stolen vest off of him. 

 

“I’m going to get her.” 

Michonne touches his shoulder nodding just slightly. This isn't like the other times he will not be talked out of leaving them. The last few weeks had been hard for him they had all seen it. the moment he came back to Hilltop he had been ready to march back there and get her. Maggie had him held back, made sure no one would open the gate for him. 

 

The whole group had tried to talk to him for days explaining that they were going to war but this wasn’t the time. They didn't have enough guns, enough people, enough anything to go back into the Sauntry to get Pandora. Daryl had cursed, shouted, and sworn at all of them. They asked Daryl where she was inside there, he couldn’t answer that. He knew the layout of the lower floors, but he never saw where they were keeping her. 

 

When Dwight had come to them looking to help Daryl was going to kill him, but he said her name it changed everything. 

 

“I know where he keeps Pandora.” Dwight had shouted at the crossbow in his face. That had calmed the rage, had Daryl demanding to know everything write it all down in a blank notebook he found. He kept writing things down, all the things they learned the parts of the plan when he could try to get her back. Every time the group had shaken their heads sadly and said they didn’t think it was possible. Every time he raged a new. 

 

These memories played in his head as they headed for the manhole cover, near the front gates. Daryl had promised he would make sure they all got there, then he would go for Pandora and come back to meet them. They knew they couldn’t talk him out of it this time. 

 

Daryl drags the manhole cover out of the way dropping a rock down into the water. When he hears it hit bottom, he turns ready to leave. 

 

“Daryl?!” he hears Tobin calling him from the darkness. “Is Daryl here.” Daryl doesn't answer suddenly there is no air, he only looks down into the hole seeing Tobin with a flashlight. “You need to get down here.” 

 

Daryl is jumping down in a flash and Tobin is already moving towards the dim lights in a run. 

 

“Carl found her at the front gate.” 

 

Daryl doesn't need to hear anything else he is already way down the tunnel in a full run. He knows Tobin is talking about Pandora. 

 

Carl had planned this well, and all Daryl needed to do was follow than light and there she was. Slumped against the wall closet to Carl Pandora is unconscious. In a matter of seconds Daryl is on his knees before her, clearing the hair from her face so he can see her. 

 

Her face is different more round again, she looks better than when he had last seen her. But her color is off, paling now more than he had even seen it. 

 

“Oh my god.” Rosita is behind him. “She’s here.” 

 

“I slowed the bleeding as much as I could, but my supplies are limited.”  the new young man is speaking from where he kneels on Pandora’s right side. He is wiping the blood from his hands on a rag. 

 

Daryl's eyes shift to the hole in her shirt, and the red stain spreading outwards. His fingers tug up her bloody shirt. Under bits of material are pressed to her side, held in place with duct tape. 

 

“They shot at us, I wasn’t fast enough.” 

 

“Carl, I. I, “Daryl cannot form a sentence all is can do is hold Carl tightly and cry. 

 

“Thank ya.” 

 

There is a sharp hiss of pain when Daryl tightened his grip and slowly he pulled away. That’s when he notices there is something wrong with Carl's face, he looks pained. In utter silence Carl lifts his shift slowly to expose a bit on his stomach. 

 

Daryl is immediately filled with rage and looking for a blade. 

 

“It’s too late, it was already too late.” 

 

“Fuck, Ahm sorry.” 

 

“I did this last thing, I brought her home.” 

Notes:

So? was this where you hoped it would go?!

Chapter 51: Upside down

Notes:

Well hello there, been holding on to this baby for a while now. It just kept looking at me so I thought I should share it with all of you wonderful people.

Listening to the bombs above them is a new form of torture. One that Daryl didn’t think would be so effective. It’s the feeling of utter powerlessness that gets under their skin. They are forced to listen but do nothing, because there is nothing to do not from down there. 

 

Michonne is hanging on by a thread he can tell, almost see her ready to crawl out of her skin. She almost loses it too lunges at Dwight demanding he make it stop. Doesn’t matter that he can’t he still answers says they are almost done it was never about burning everything down. 

 

In the darkness, listening to the bombs it’s hard to think that this isn’t about total destruction. There is an image in his mind of nothing but rubble and fire, more like hell than home. 

 

After what seems like hours the world above them is silent, and they have a plan. It’s not the best plan, but it’s something. Everyone will go together to Hilltop taking a path through the woods, the road is too dangerous. In a group it will be better for everyone can be on the lookout while they move. 

 

Rick and Michonne would stay to bury and mourn their son. Daryl had promised to make sure their daughter saw the inside of the walls of Hilltop. There had been a cot in the tunnels two of them, they rigged on to be stretcher for Pandora. As Daryl secured Judith to Tobins back, he watches Tara and Rosita talking next to her unconscious form. 

 

Daryl steps up and grabs the straps Tara ready on the other side to lift. They pace they take through the trees is slow, path carefully picked for how clear it is. They try not to move her too much, but a few times Pandora groans and opens her eyes. It never lasts long within a second she is out again. 

 

It isn’t easy to make their way in the dark, but when the sun comes up, it brings new issues with it. Negan has his men all over the road, every once in a while they hear a bit of conversation. Daryl swears he hears Pandora’s name a few times. They move silent, someone always scouting ahead. It was easier to hide one person than hide all of them.  Daryl goes and does it once or twice, leaving Pandora with Rosita and Tara. 

 

When the sun has full risen Daryl lets everyone stop, easing Pandora on to the ground. The young man is there again appearing from somewhere in the crowd of bodies. Daryl watches only for a moment than he is moving scouting ahead. 

 

As he moves the trees break away and give way to a road, he stands under the bridge and listened. Above him he can hear intellable voices, too far and too low for him to really hear. After a few seconds the vehicle peels away moving back in the direction of the sanctuary. When he is sure the way is clear, he lets out one quick high-pitched whistle. 

 

Through the tree he sees everyone moving towards him. Tara and Rosita holding Pandora between them. They lowered her to the ground and Daryl took up the spot Tara was just in. 

 

“Best to stay off the road. Head into the woods right there.” he keeps his voice low waiting to the side while everyone else passes him. They bring up the rear with Pandora between them, “Go, go, go.” 

 

Tara stays close to them only a few steps ahead of Daryl, she is always near in case they need her. From the woods a groan floats towards them, Tara is on it. 

 

“I got it.” her knife is out she isn’t standing ready, as the walker gets closer Tara shifts her weight shoving it to the side. 

 

It only takes a few seconds, but it feels like forever as Daryl watches the walker stumble its way towards Dwight. 

 

“Tara!” Rosita hisses at her angered by the shift in action. She had tempered down recently since Sacha her rage had gone somewhere else. While Daryl had been all fire since he came back she was the calm one. 

 

“What it got away, he can handle it.” 

 

Dwight does in fact handle it, there is still fight in him. He struggles for a moment as Daryl watches but from the corner of his eye he can see Rosita at the ready. Dwight gets it to the ground and stomps its head in with his boot. 

 

“See.” The tense feeling in the  atmosphere is thick, but Tara just leaves weaving her way through the formed crowd. 

 

“Just keep them moving.” Daryl hisses, there isn’t time for this. Pandora is bleeding to death in this stretcher. She had moved more often than she did through the night, it doesn’t think she is going to stay unconscious for long. 

 

“Did you hear them on the walkie about Carson and Gabriel?”

 

“Ya,” Daryl answers picking his way through the exposed roots on the ground in front of him. “Probability headed to Hilltop same as us.” 

 

“Hopefully better than us.” There is a walker stumbling towards them, Rosita gets it with one shot. “I heard Pandora’s name too they are out there looking for her.” 

 

“They ain’t gonna find her.” Daryl almost growls the words out, it is not Rosita he is mad at and he needed to remember that. 

 

Hours pass and they walk in silence, a few times Judith makes a sound, but it quickly hushed by someone close. Somehow she just knows now it not the time, always a tune to the energy around her that one. It’s not until he hears Rosita calling him that he stops finally, and only Tara and Dwight are standing behind him. 

 

“Where are they?” 

 

“They needed to rest they haven’t slept all night.” Tara has her arms crossed over her chest on foot tapping the ground with nervous energy. 

 

This is the part he didn’t think about, he was driven by a single purpose tired was not something he felt right now. “Alright ten minutes, where’s the doctor.” 

 

“Siddiq, I’ll get him” Tara comes back in moments with the young man Siddiq. 

 

“I’m going to check her wounds.” 

 

“Ya,” Daryl gets on his knees beside Pandora moving her hair from her eyes. He did the moving shifting her to her back and lifting her shirt. He couldn’t look away only watches Siddiq inspect the wound. 

 

“I can’t clean it here, but the bleeding has stopped.” 

 

Daryl can’t keep his hands off Pandora from this level, he still thinks somehow she might vanish before his eyes. “Will she make it?” He has to ask even if he doesn’t like the answer. 

 

“She will make it, the sooner we get her inside the better.” 

 

Daryl shakes his head his lowers himself down to the ground beside her. Tara and Rosita are with him Dwight hangs a few feet in front of them. 

 

“Someone needs to go back and cover our tracks.” Daryl jerks his head in the direction they came from, but he makes no move to get up and do it himself. 

 

“I’ll go.” Rosita turns and is gone bringing a stick with her. 

 

“I have a question! Why is he still breathing?” Tara jerks to Dwight, arms crossed over her shoulders. Tara is more rage than anything else, it had done nothing but build since Sacha died. It had never stopped building for him since the line up, since Negan tore her away from him. 

 

There isn’t time for that rage now though, for who lives and who dies. Pandora is dying, and that is the only thing that matters. Dwight will stay breathing because Daryl might need him. It’s true he knows Negan and his men, but he knows what happened in there. He might be the only one that can tell him what happened to Pandora, he is breathing because Darly might need him. 

 

“The fight ain’t over.” Yes speak of war, speak of the dead and the soon to be dead something Tara will understand. 

 

“It is for him! I’m done waiting.” 

 

“This ain’t the time for that Tara and you fucking know it, she is dying.” Daryl jabs his finger towards her and in that moment her eyes snap open. 

 

“Miss you have been badly hurt.” 

 

Daryl shoves Siddiq away looming over Pandora’s face. She has pulled herself up and the blood flowed steadily from her side. Her face was different rounder look full, now though her colour was off. The usual carmel covered in a gray ash tone. 

 

“Pandora, relax.” Daryl speaks clasping her hands. Pandora tries to pulled again, tears streaking her face. 

 

“Where am I?” Her head rolls forward for a second but she recovers and looks at Daryl again. 

 

“Safe Pandora Ah promise you’re safe.” 

 

“Where is Negan?” This question is whispered as she finally pulls her hands free of Daryl’s grip. 

 

“Princess” Dwight leans over her shoulder looking at her. “He will find us.” 

 

That calms her her hand flutters to her side, they come away sticky with fresh blood. 

 

“Oh,” Pandora sighs her body gives in then sagging back down onto the stretcher. “Ya he will” 

 

Then she is gone again slipping into darkness, and Daryl is left raging. She had called for Negan, the moment she woke up, she called for Negan. 

 

Daryl shakes his head and reaches for his end of the stretcher, Tara takes up the other side. 

 

“I told you, she isn’t the same.” Dwight walks past him holding his shoulder. 

 

“Let’s go!” Daryl hisses as she picks up the pace. 

 

Pandora dreams about walking through fire, miles and miles of hot desert sand. In her dreams the sun beats down on her until she is nothing but dust and ash. 

 

Bits of conversation float on the hot wind. Daryl telling everyone to go, shouting, crying and her own voice, her own crying. It doesn’t make sense seeing Dwight in the woods, and Daryl he was free. Negan will be mad at her, he will think she did this on purpose to go back. 

 

The panic of that thought jerks her awake eyes snapping open, she wakes up somewhere she doesn’t recognize. No where in the Sanctuary looked like this, she wasn’t there. All the walls are white, and there is a big window to her left. It open sounds of people float on the breeze. When she looks at the sheets in her hand for a second she hopes she will see all black, either his bed or hers. It isn’t black though in fact the sheets are bright white. 

 

Rolling over she sees Daryl in the chair to her right, by the door. Pandora jerks back as if he had hit her. 

 

“Hi.” Daryl’s words hang in the air, Pandora can almost see them suspended between them. 

 

He opens her mouth, but no sound comes out, only the sound of her own crying. Had she always been crying or was that something that just happened now. 

 

“Where... where” Pandora tries to piece together a sentence but she can’t get the rest of the words out. Instead she stops, carefully pulling herself into the sitting position knees protectively to her chest. 

 

“Hilltop, Carl found yah we brought you here.” 

 

Hilltop which is a few hours of a drive from Alexandria their closest neighbours, and the Sanctuary is almost a day away from there. It would take Negan so long to find her, to come here and get her. 

 

“Pandora, Ahm sorry.” 

 

“No.” Pandora holds up her hand to silence him. This is not supposed to be happening right now, this is not where she belongs. “You have to take me back.” 

 

From the chair he doesn’t speak only leans forward taking her hand in his own. He tightened his grip trying to pull her back to him. “Listen to me, Ah will not let him hurt you.” 

 

Daryl doesn’t understand anymore, she knows where she is safe and it isn’t here. They tried to kill her, more than once. She lets him take her hands though because the pressure is nice and it helps her think. Looking at their hands she remembers watching Negan’s men beat him because she trashed her room. 

 

“Please don’t.” She whispers taking her hands away from him wrapped her arms around her legs. Her side pitches painfully, and she remembers the gun shot. One hands presses the wound causing a wince of pain.

 

“Let me get the doctor, don’t touch it.” Daryl gives her one last look before he gets up and goes to the door. His tone is different more closed off than before, it hurts her chest just a little but she doesn’t know why.

 

The moment he shuts the door the tears come back, big heavy trails down her cheeks. She isn’t supposed to be here, she has to stay with Negan that is how she is safe that is how she stays safe. But here, here is so far away. 

 

When the door opens again, there is a young man she has never seen before and Daryl. She is quick to wipe her face with the back of her hands, drying her tears.

 

“Pan this is the doctor.” He steps towards her pulling the chair next to the bed. 

 

“Well I’m not a full doctor--” The man is smiling his hands palm up in front of him. He looks young too young to be a doctor. 

 

“Can you check it?” Daryl snaps leaning forward. 

 

“I think it’s fine.” Pandora makes no move to uncurl her legs. 

 

The young man is on her other side now watching her with a sad expression on his face. There is something in his face that reminds her of Denise, maybe all doctors looked like this she couldn’t be sure. 

 

“Ma’am let me help you.” 

 

Something about his face makes her pause and Pandora uncurls herself laying her let straight out on the bed. Daryl doesn’t seem like he is leaving so Pandora pulls the shirt of, anyway. Well she tries to pull her shirt off, lifting her arm causes a painful tug on her side making her double over. The wound is more present than, a dull throbbing in her side that makes her want to gag. 

 

Daryl is there in her teary vision, he gently helps pull the shirt over her head without speaking. 

 

They stare at each other for a few long seconds, and Pandora is sure she is going to cry again. The look in his eyes breaks her heart. He is a man searching, not for a what but for a who. He is looking for the girl he left in the line up, that girl doesn’t exist anymore. 

 

When the young doctor pulls the bandage away from her side to clean it, she really is crying. “Oh fuck.” She whispers struggling to stay up right. Somewhere to her left the Doctor is saying how sorry he is something about an infection. 

 

Pandora can’t really hear it because Daryl is looking at her again and her head is so damn loud. There are long moments of her breathing through the pain and them staring at each other.

 

Then it’s over and a new clean bandage is fixed to her side.

 

“Rest and take these once a day.” The young doctor places the pills on the nightstand than Daryl follows him out.  

 

In the hall Siddiq looks at Daryl a tightness in his shoulders. “Do you know what Stockholm syndrome is?” A conversation like this really has no good place to start. 

 

“Naw. She got that?” Daryl has his hands jammed into his pockets. He knew it was something else, he knew it. There was something more wrong than the bullet hole, something Negan had done.  

 

Siddqi shifted where he stands clearly uncomfortable with the topic. “I’m not the right kind of doctor for this, but I think so.” He pauses for a second, “it when someone who was captured develope of relationship with their captors.” 

 

Daryl can feel his blood boiling, “ what kind of fucking relationship?!”

 

“She had developed a co dependent connection with him, she thinks she needs Negan to survive.” He has his hands up as if he is worried Daryl might strike him. 

 

“Fuck.” The Daryl is gone heading to the kitchen to get her something to eat. 

When Daryl comes back in the room he finds her sitting in the bed, her back against the headboard. He is holding two steaming bowls in his hands, handing one to her he sits down in the chair. They eat in silence when she is done he takes her bowl but makes no move to leave. 

 

“Pan he cannot hurt you anymore. Not here, Ah swear it.” Daryl is watching her his hands tightened into fist in his lap. 

 

“He didn’t hurt me.” Pandora can’t pull her eyes away, she is swimming in a pool of blue. “You tried to hurt me. That day you brought the dead I was outside, I was with Negan. When the shooting started I ran Negan found me he kept me safe, not you. “ Now the words are coming and she cannot stop them from tumbling out. “Than you tried to blow us up. Negan always saved me” 

 

Daryl tries to keep his horror as invisable as possible, but fuck it’s hard. He hadn’t been at the Sanctuary, he didn’t know she had been there. She doesn't see what he was really trying to do, he had been trying to save her. He assumed it looked the same on the outside as it did from the inside, he had been wrong.Pandora thought they wanted to hurt her too. 

 

“Pandora Ahm sorry.” 

 

“I’d like to go to sleep.” Pandora whispered her hands tightened into fists, nails biting into the beds of her palms. 

 

“Pandora.” Daryl’s voice is hard and it makes her snap her head up to him. “Ahm here now.” 

 

Pandora shakes her head tears forming in her eyes, they spill down onto her cheeks. “I can’t do this. You have to send me back.” Somewhere floors below her room there is a small dark room that feels like hell, and she cannot go back there. But also she misses him, misses drinking into the night spilling out each other's secrets. Negan keeps her safe.

 

“Ah won’t Ah swear it.” Daryl reaches for her and she lets him take her into his arms. 

 

“You left me.” She whispers her side hurts now a blinding fire in her side. Pandora cries harder now sagging against him, he talks to her as she cries. Telling her he would keep her safe, it isn’t long before she is sleeping. 

     

Notes:

Listen I teach kids I'm not a psychologist so I don't really know how Stockholm works but here we are!

Chapter 52: Home no more

Notes:

Well these are strange times we are living in huh? Where I live we are being told to socially distance. I have underlining health conditions and a shitty immune system so I am on lock down. Which means I dusted off this old bad boy, because I have hit a road block on some of my other works. This still brings be so much joy you guys, you don't even know.

Pandora never dreams, no everything she sees when she closes her eyes is a nightmare. At the moment she is dreaming about fire, about Negan burning Hilltop to the ground. It’s so real that the smell sticks to the inside of her nose as she stands among the burning fields. Around her everyone is screaming, running for their lives. They don't notice her standing alone in the wheat fields. 

 

“There you are Princess!” Negan’s thundering voice sounds from somewhere behind her. Without thinking about it her body turns and tries to move towards him, but nothing happens. Her feet are rooted to the ground around her and the flames reach up to lick her hands dancing between her fingers. There isn't any pain , she had come close enough to death to know this is a dream really dying that hurts. 

 

Flames melt the world around her until there is nothing but darkness. Thick inky blackness she cannot see through. 

 

"You will learn to be good ." Negan's voice says somewhere off in the darkness. 

 

Pandora can move now but there isn't anywhere to go, her hands find nothing but smooth walls. It's then she screams pounding her fists against the walls, in a vain attempt at freedom. It's the box she knew it, she was back in the box because she wasn't being good . 

 

"Pan Ah got ya."

 

That isn't Negan no she knows who it is, that voice had been what home sounded like. That voice got her back in the box. She is sure of it. 

 

"No, no, no." Hands over her ears muffle the sounds. 

 

Then her world is shifting again, and the darkness is being replaced by a dim light. It takes her a second to come up from the darkness. To feel the hands on her wrists, to see Daryl looming over her face pained. 

 

They stay like that for a few moments while Pandora sobs out the rest of the fear from her nightmares. The breath in her lungs is searing fire, raw from screaming. 

 

A knock sounds on the door loud and urgent. The person on the other side doesn't wait for an answer, rather just opens the door and steps inside. 

 

"Daryl?" 

 

Pandora turns away from him to lock eyes with Rosita. 

 

"Nightmare." Daryl drops her wrists to hold her hands instead. Pandora makes no move to remove her hands, instead for a moment she enjoys the warm pressure of it. For a few long seconds the room is quiet Pandora cannot quite be present enough to understand what's going on. Daryl gets up moving to the door, Pandora sits up pulling her knees to her chest.  

 

She wants some wine or whiskey. Something else to burn her chest other than memories of fire. Finally after what she is sure has been a hushed conversation the door closes. 

 

"Sorry," Pandora whispers. "I didn't mean to wake you up." 

 

Here in the almost daylight things can look different, feel different. It feels different Pandora thinks as she looks at Darly now sitting silently in the chair beside her. 

 

“Pandora Ah,” Daryl tries to speak but words have never been something he was good with, it was something they shared a love of comfortable silence. 

 

In her head she can almost see the conversation playing out. He will say that he is sorry. He didn’t mean to leave her. Pandora will tell him that's not the point, and they will go in circles. Instead she stops him with her hand held up between them. 

 

“Can I go outside to see the graves?” 

 

Daryl watches her in silence for a few long seconds until he sighs, “Can you eat something first?” 

 

Nodding Pandora watches him leave the room, her head pounds. The side with the bullet hole throbs, and her head pounds more. The smart thing to do would be to stay in bed but instead she needs to get out of this room. The walls are too small and everything reminded her of something she had been running from. 

 

Before she can fall into complete panic Daryl is back holding an apple and a cup of nuts. She eats in silence unable to bring herself to meet his eyes. But she can feel him watching her, gaze hot on her. 

 

“Ah ain’t letting you outta my sight again. Ah swear.” Daryl’s voice fills the silence of the room, making her shake. 

 

Pandora can’t answer him; instead she picks a nut one by one and pops them into her mouth. She cannot be here, as long as she was with Negan she was safe , here she wasn’t safe. They were not safe either, no Negan was turn the world upside down to find her. 

 

“Ah got you something to wear.” Daryl produces a bag from under the bed. 

 

The apple core in one hand she picks through the bag, finding leggings, a shirt and a hoodie. It all looks her size, if not a bit worn. They don’t speak as Daryl just moves to leave the room. In moments Pandora is in the fresh clothes, but her side aches even more. She refused to ask for help and getting the sweater over had given her stitches a painful tug. 

 

Dressed and ready Pandora opens the door to see Daryl resting on the railing outside the room. 

 

“ Comeon than.” 

 

It must be early when they step outside the sun of just coming up only a few people mill about. Most of them are tending to animals, cows, a few horses, a goat. Her and the animals are the only things that seem to be up this early. As they walk, she notices that much of the wide open space she remembers from before is gone now. Filled with cars, buses, tents and trailers, Hilltop is bursting at the seams. 

 

When they reach the graveyard, another thing that had grown larger in her absence Pandora realizes they are not as alone as she thought. Rick kneels in the dirt of a fresh looking grave. Pandora can feel her heart give a painful tug in her chest. Carl had not made it , by far this was one of the cruelest things she had learned. Who decided she got to live the girl who was nothing but a shadow most of the time. Carl had been the one person who she was sure was going to survive it. 

 

Pandora doesn’t stop when she walks past Rick, instead she walks to where she remembers. The soil on Abraham and Glenn’s graves are long dry, they have been here for some time. Daryl doesn’t follow her to their graves he stops and with a glance over her shoulder she can see him talking to Rick. 

 

Her fucking head hurts here, everything is changing too fast for her liking. With her fingers in the dirt over Abraham she pictures him here now. Sitting next to her on the ground cigar in his mouth. That isn’t right this is not where she wants to be anymore, she needs to be where Negan is. Hilltop is far from the Sanctuary, a full day's drive maybe . Pandora curses herself for not paying more attention, instead she daydreamed and smoked the drive away. 

 

“Look, about what Ah did at the Sanctuary, trying to end it real quick. Ah just wanted it done. Ah didn’t want to give them another chance, not again. And Ah didn’t care who was there. Ah don’t know it that makes it right or…” 

The breeze carries Daryl’s voice to her. She didn't need to hear the whole conversation to know what he was talking about. The truck,  the truck that brought the dead. Daryl had done that. He had driven the truck through the doors. She could have died. He knew that, he said he didn't care who was in there, she had been in there. 

 

Despite being outside Pandora feels everything closing down on her, trees and graves trying to crush her under them. Standing she watches the dirt she had been holding fall between her fingers back onto the grave. It’s easy for her to find a path away from the speaking men. Her hand traces the lowest steel beam holding the wall in place. 

 

Her gaze follows the wall to the top, it is unbelievably high much higher than they had been in Alexandria. Her fingers brush the tall tree trunks. She could climb it. If it came to that Pandora could find her way over the walls. At this moment she didn’t even try to think about what she would do on the other side. 

 

Being here feels strange, it makes her want to crawl out of her own skin. This used to feel like another home, anywhere she was with Daryl that used to feel like home. It’s not the same anymore. He used to be home before he left her. Home doesn’t leave, home doesn't put you in danger. 

 

“Pandora?” 

 

She had gotten further than she meant to. Here the sky casts long shadows from the buildings all around her. A head of her is where she hears the sound, and a figure is stepping out of an object she cannot quite make out. 

 

“Pandora?” A figure calls her name again and losing the last few feet of darkness Jesus steps into a beam of sunlight. Behind him there is a small sound of a slam. It takes her brain a few seconds to catch up with what she is looking at. Jesus had come through the box, somehow. 

 

“What are you doing out here?” Jesus looks the same as she remembers. Maybe his beard is a little bit longer, and the lines on his face are a little deeper than she remembers. Like always Jesus is smiling his hands palm up in front of him, he steps a bit closer to her keeping a few feet between them. 

 

Pandora wants to answer him, but she can’t. Because the moment she opens her mouth, the words she thinks are going to come out die on her tongue. This used to be a common occurrence her inability to communicate, it hadn’t happened since she had been with Negan. Part of her wants to tell him she is here looking for a way out, an escape. But she knows Jesus, knows he is loyal and will not hesitate to march her back to Daryl. So instead she stands there unable to say anything, tears pricking her eyes. 

 

“Why don’t we go see where Daryl is.” Jesus has almost completely closed the distance between them. He has one hand stretched out touch almost ghosting her elbow like he wants to reach for her.  

 

That's allowed her to find herself again stepping back, “No, I just need some air.”

Jesus smiles at her tilting his head down just a little, “I happen to know where to find the best air.” 

 

He takes her by the arm then, a firm gentle lead on her elbow. As they walk, he tells her about the things she had missed, chatting like she is not a completely different person . Jesus tells her about the new people they found, they have a community of women they call themselves Oceanside. 

 

“They have been hiding, too scared to join our fight right now. They will come around though I know it.” 

 

The walk to the lookout it filled with Jesus’ voice filling her in on the time she had been away. When they reach the top, the view takes her breath away, if she stays she will still never grow tired of this view. 

 

“Pandora I will give you some time alone alright , I’ll let Daryl know where you are.” 

 

Pandora doesn't turn, she doesn't need to in the glass she watches Jesus shut the door behind him. It’s warm here, reminds her of the greenhouse on the roof of the Sanctuary, her favourite place to go. Here she can see more though, the road stretched out for miles in front of her. It’s clear no sign on Negan coming down the road ready to burn all of this to the ground. 

 

For the first time since Pandora had gotten up her side began to pound . Or maybe it had been hurting all day, and she was too deep in her own head to feel it. Here things are hard, she forgets how to be a full person. Jesus had talked to her like she was a whole person maybe even the same person she had been before. That girl was long gone, the one who had come here so long ago. Her hand rests where the bullet hole was, how many times had she been hurt ? Forever a healing wound somewhere. 

 

“Pandora?” 

 

In the glass she watches the door open and Daryl steps inside. Then so many things happen at once, a car comes down the road speeding, it shocks her somehow she loses her footing. In an attempt to keep herself standing a hand pressed to the glass only to leave blood smeared fingerprints. Although it felt like these events took a long time, it must have been quick because Daryl is there catching her. 

 

“There you go Ah got ya.” 

 

That used to calm her, now tears collect in the edges of her vision. 

 

Daryl is helping her stand now turned towards the door, “ Comon on yah gotta rest.” 

 

“I’m bleeding again.” Pandora mutters to him or herself she isn't really sure. Daryl takes the fingers she is holding up and continues to lead her down the stairs. 

 

Daryl waits until Pandora is sleeping before he leaves her. He doesn't loc k the door, but he thinks about it, but then pictures the panic of her waking up alone with the door locked. Instead he leaves it open just a crack. Let her learn to trust them again. 

 

In the kitchen of the big house Daryl finds Jesus, he is relieved Jesus had been with him after he left the Sanctuary he had some idea of what Pandora might be dealing with.

 

“She’s sleeping?” Jesus is at the stove stirring something, soup Daryl is sure. Their supplies are getting limited, soup feeds a lot of people with not a lot needed. 

 

“Ya, Young Doctor thinks she has some shit called Stockholm syndrome.” 

 

Jesus places a bowl in front of Daryl spoon already inside, they sit at the island together. 

 

“I’ve heard of it, it’s something that  happened with people who have been kidnapped right?” 

 

“Ah guess that’s what the kid said, she had some kinda relationship with Negan or some shit.”  Saying that out loud is harder than he thinks, it makes it more real to speak it here. The guilt wants to choke him, a firm hand wrapped around his throat now. He had left her, Pandora had wasted no time in reminding him that. He can’t help but wonder if it would have been so bad if he hadn’t left her there, would she have been different? Had a different experience ? 

 

“When I found you something there wasn't right with you either, Daryl.” He doesn't say it to judge him, but to make it known. There isn't a lie in his words, Daryl had refused to speak for days spent the night outside refusing to come in. 

 

“She keeps asking me to take her back. Back to Negan.” 

 

Jesus nods thoughtfully, his chin resting on his closed fist, “It might be like that for a while, we really have no idea what happened to her in there.” 

 

Daryl knows, knows about the small dark room where there is nothing but your own demons. He had been in the dark too, just like Pandora. Pandora had been lost in that darkness, is still lost even now. 

 

“I left her Jesus.” Daryl reminds himself of that moment to moment. 

 

“You didn’t have a choice. If you didn't leave when you did you would have been caught what good would you be then?”

 

It was almost the same thing Jesus had said to Daryl that day when he had found him beating fat Joe to death. It hasn’t helped then, and it hasn't helped now. Daryl shakes his head slowly and he knew he was right. Had Daryl been dragged back there he would have been no use to her. Not that he felt like he was much of a use now. 

 

In her dreams she hears him whisper to her, at first she is sure it’s Negan. She tried to reach out to call out to him, but nothing happens. Instead she opens her eyes to Daryl’s face hovering over her. 

 

“Come on Pandora, yah gotta go.” Daryl tightened his grip on her shoulders for a second, the rest of the room filling into view. 

 

For a second she thinks maybe he has come to his senses and is sending her back to Negan. Maybe he is being forced to send her back, either way it doesn’t matter. Then she hears it thecause of his urgency, the sound of the house rises up to meet her. There are shouts of orders, the shuffle of moving bodies. 

 

The time must have come, someone has spotted Negan. He must be on his way to burn this place down and kill everyone inside. In the fog of being awake so suddenly Pandora just follows him. Allowing herself to be led out of the room and down into the basement. 

 

The house is old, the basement is nothing more than a dug out stone room. The windows are small and old, the dying light barely filtering through. This is where the ones who cannot fight are sent to wait. Women with the few children they have here, the old who cannot fight. 

 

Daryl finds her a space off my herself, allowing her some space between her and the others. Rubbing her eyes Pandora lowered herself to the ground knees to her chest. They don't know the force Negan has, he will come here and he will win. Pandora will be gone soon . 

 

“Pandora Ah will come back for you.” Daryl leans down towards her, a finger brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. 

 

He tries to kiss her, but Pandora doesn’t allow it and doesn't think her heart can even take it. The look on her face makes her chest feel tight, but still she keeps her face turned away. Daryl leaves then shaking his head as he makes his way up the stairs, back to prepare for battle. 

 

No one down there speaks to her , maybe she had been gone for so long they don’t remember her. Or they do remember her and remember that they once had to keep their distance. The older women keep the children quiet and calm in the growing darkness. Hours seem to pass and Pandora drifts in and out of a shallow sleep, it suits her and no one down here needs to see her dream. 

 

When she wakes for the last time it is because the house above her has exploded into chaos. She can hear screaming, gun shots, glass shattering. The darkness of the night had made it into the small basement. There were lights strung up at the end of the toom. Most of the people have moved closer to there, she hasn’t moved. Pandora sits in the same spot Darl had left her, back to the rough stone wall closer to the stairs. 

 

Another chance like this one won’t come again, Pandora sucks in a deep breath and stands. The path from her spot to the door is covered in shadow. She slips up the stairs easily . Negan is here, and she will find him. In the main part of the house there is no one at the front door , it would be too brave to go through there. Pandora is wild and stupid, that’s the way she takes. She only opens them a crack just wide enough for her to slip out and back into the cover of the darkness. 

 

Pandora tries to picture where she saw the box Jesus came from. Near the grave, hugging the shadow of the wall she searches in the near darkness. Around her she can hear screaming, the sound of gun fire. Somewhere to her right she hears Simon’s voice, white he isn’t her favorite person he is Negan’s man. When gun fire explodes again, Pandora changes her mind and goes running for the box a few feet ahead of her. 

 

The lid opens, and she goes tumbling down into darkness, on the other side she pulls herself up stitches pulling painfully at her side. 

 

“What the fuck!?” 

 

With tears in her eyes Pandora searches for the voice she knows it. In front of where she is crouched on the ground they call her name.

 

“Pandora?” 

 

Through tears she realizes she is looking at Arat, her chest is ten pounds lighter at the sight of her. 

 

“Arat, help me I…” The rest of what she is going to say dies away and Arat reaches for her. A hand on her elbows pulls Pandora from the ground. 

 

“What the fuck are you doing out here? Looking for the big guy?” 

 

Pandora can only nod at the other woman as they speed walk back to the cars. She struggles to stay on her feet as they walk, her side burns painfully . 

 

“Hunter!” Arat is shouting now one hand waving. “Take her back a truck and keep her there.” 

 

The new man she had never met pulls her along , they don’t walk far until she is being loaded into the passenger side of a pick up truck. The new man Hunter shuts the door leaving her alone inside. Pandora is crying, wet tracks streaking her cheeks. It ’s going to be fine now, they will take her back to Negan and he will know she didn’t do this on purpose. Part of her wonders how this could have been different, but that is a dangerous road to go down better just to sit and wait. 

 

More gunshots ring out around her and a stream of bodies cuts through the smoke around the gate. Pandora is alert again sitting up, eyes glued to the movement outside. Simon and Dwight break off from the pack , she can see them running towards her. Hunter hands his hands up then shouting and gesturing to the car. There is too much noise to hear anything but she can see both the men stop than go in different directions. Dwight comes towards her and Pandora can taste the bile in the back of the throat . 

 

“Oh please no.” She whispers it to herself, eyes glued to his form. He keeps coming despite her desperate pleas in the darkness for him to stay away. 

 

Dwight yanks the drivers seat door open but he doesn’t get inside, for a few long seconds they just stare at each other. She knows his secret, past the pain, the drugs, and the confusion she remembers, remembers seeing him in those woods trying to help them stay hidden. 

 

Pandora sits up straighter, “Take me back.” She tells him, wiping her face on the back of her hands. 

 

“We don’t even know if he is alive!” He is still standing at the door, his fingers a white knuckled grip on the edge of the door. 

 

“Take. Me. Back. Now.” That is the only answer he gets, and her tones leave little room for him to say anything else. 

 

More gun fire than causing glass to rain down on her head. Dwight flies into action, and flies into the front seat turning the keys to start the engine. 

 

“Get your fucking head down!” Dwight doesn't even give her a second to do it herself before he is shoving her head down himself, her forehead slamming against the dashboard. 

 

In her vision stars explode for a second sending her reeling. Under her the car lurches speeding down the street. Stars dance in her eyes, but she doesn’t pass out. A small mercy if she had ever seen one. 

 

“What the fuck are you doing out here?” Dwight snarls from somewhere above her. 

 

Pandora doesn't raise her head not yet, fearing that what she is does that will be what tips her over into darkness once and for all. So instead she keeps her head down, pressed between her knees. “I’m going back where I belong.” 

 

“You belonged there! With your own fucking people.” Dwight is shouting now and Pandora can only tip her head to the side watching him. His eyes never leave the road his fingers grip tightly to the steering wheel. 

 

Pandora shut her eyes again feeling the contents of her stomach come up in her throat. “I don't.” Is all she can manage before her eyes need to close again. 

 

They drive the rest of the way in silence. At some point Pandora lifts her head to watch the world pass her outside. By the time they reach the gates of the Sanctuary the sun has come up, and she is sure it’s mid afternoon. 

 

Dwight doesn’t stop their care near the cluster of the others, he moves off to the side. “Do not get out of this car until I come back for you.” 

 

Pandora only nods her hands in tight fists at her sides. Dwight leaves the car slamming the door behind him and walks away from her. When Dwight has disappeared into the swell of bodies, she keeps watching them. Minutes tick by and when he comes back the man from last night Hunter is with him, and beside him Arat. 

 

Pandora opens the door herself stepping outside to meet them. 

 

Dwight shakes his head running his hands over his eyes. “Take her back to her room and get two more guys from my team and stand outside.” 

 

Arat speaks then, “I got her D, don’t worry.” 

 

Something silent passes between them when they look at each other and Pandora isn’t sure what to make of it. Her brain isn't firing on all fronts, but there is something at play here right where she cannot touch it. 

 

The moment the door to her room shuts Pandora is stripping on her way to the bathroom. Everything she had been wearing gets shoved in the plastic bag lining her trash can. In the shower she sobs and scrubs until her skin is raw, until the feeling of Daryl is gone . It’s not enough though, so she leaves once she has stopped crying. 

 

In her room she half dresses a long pink t-shirt and a pair of black shorts before she slips under the covers. In her bedside drawer the bottles of her many pills still sit, she takes two small blue ones and drifts off in no time. 

Notes:

I bet you hate me? You do don't you? I mean I love this though. Just let me take you on this journey ok?!

Chapter 53: Crumbling

Notes:

Quarantine has be brushing the dust of this thing. I like the twisted nature of this chapter and where all of this is going. I have a few more chapters ready to be edited so keep an eye out if your still with me.

Chapter 53 The Returned.

The pills make her nightmares worse. They render her unmoving in the horror makes her dreams lack a linear sense of plot. Pandora prefers a sense of liner time to her terror these days.

Curled in her sea of silk black sheets, she dreams about watching Hilltop burn and being glad. That she remembers, the feeling of ease lifting from her chest as the flames lick the buildings. Home cannot be ashes, so this must not be home.

When Pandora wakes, it is everything but gentle, like always she wakes in a panic. This time, though, she is alone. That tugs at her eyes causing a few stray tears to leak down her cheeks, angrily she wipes them away. When was the last time she woke up alone in her terror? Two nights ago? No Negan had been there than Daryl after him. She had not been alone for a long time.

When she finally opens her eyes, her side aches. Right she had been shot just the other day, two days ago, maybe it is hard to remember now. Licking her lips, her mouth tasted like ashes. She cannot remember the last time she had something to eat.

Gripping her side, Pandora heads to the small kitchen. It looks the same as she left it. Yet when she opens the fridge, most of the fresh food has been removed. In the cupboard she finds fruit cups, oatmeal and chips. She doesn’t want to eat any of this, well she doesn't want to cook it.

Before all it took was a knock on the door to have someone bring her something to eat. Now Pandora felt hesitation at the idea of knocking on the door. Arat had extra guards outside her room, Dwight had returned her under the cover of the chaos. Something was different, shifting just out of her reach now. Negan was gone, and the foundation he left them on was shaky. He would be back soon though, she knew it. He was too damn large to leave the world now, too much of a thundering presence.
It’s not morning, nowhere near it actually. Late afternoon, early evening. All this time with no real clocks has not made her any better at knowing the time of day. Still, she makes the oatmeal for herself, eating it in the small kitchen.

She cleans the kitchen when she is done, washing and drying everything. It isn't until she is putting things away that she finally sees the little things out of place. There are apples in a bowl on the counter, and two full bottles of whiskey in the cabinet beside the stove. When she gets dressed, there are things out of place as well. A few white t-shirts in her drawers, some socks she is sure are not her own. She takes a white shirt though, layering it over a tank top and cotton leggings.

Folding herself into the chair by the window, she wonders if Negan had been staying here while she was gone. That is an odd thought, but the clues sort of add up. Bits of his clothes, belongings scattering the surfaces around her room. The motion from the parking lot below her draws her attention after a while. There is a hive of activity, like always. No matter how many men they seem to lose, she never sees a difference. Their numbers seem endless.

Sometime under the cover of night there is a knock on her door. Pandora has been in the chair all day, getting up only once to pour herself a whiskey. For a long moment she debates whether she wants to answer it. Might be better to pretend she is sleeping, or not here.

Whoever has knocked on the door doesn’t wait for her to answer, just knocks again and opens it.

“We are the only ones who know you're here Pandora.”

Pandora is struggling to get herself out of the chair and when she finally does her room is full of people. Dwight, Arat and two men she doesn't know are standing there in her kitchen.

“Pandora, hey.” Arat is closing the distance between them, a hand tentatively laying on her shoulder. “My guys are looking out for you until the big guy comes back all right?”

Those parts she cannot see are moving again all around her, “That will be soon.” Pandora speaks the words out loud but cannot really be sure who they are for herself or everyone else.

Arat and Dwight look at each other like they want to speak, but they don’t. Instead, they avoid her gaze all together.

“You think he’s dead.” Whispering Pandora clings to her side, the pain a stab of clarity.

“We don’t know anything, he was with the convoy then he wasn’t” Dwight is answering her then maybe he knows the most.

“Pandora whatever happens I will protect you ok?”

“Thank you.” Pandora can feel a tightness in her chest. She had never felt more like a Princess than now the last member of a crumbling monarchy.

Arat and the two men leave speaking in hushed tones as the door closes on them. Dwight doesn’t move, instead he stands in her kitchen leaning against the countertop, trying and failing to look casual. The night he brought her back plays in the back of her head. They both know that he is a rat working behind the curtain to bring down Negan.

“Why did you come back?” He finally spits out. He looks over her shoulder out the window.

For someone who also came back Pandora is not sure what he doesn’t understand. Rick and his people had tried to kill her, more than once. There were so many reasons to come back. To be good, to make sure she says out of the box, to be on the side that will win. She doesn’t think any of that will matter, and she doesn’t want to talk about this anymore.

“I’m Negan, you know that.”Pandora almost whispers it but finds a bit of herself as she speaks. “I won’t tell anyone.”

She tries to put him at ease, Pandora can keep a secret she would keep his to. Pandora almost doesn’t even remember waking up in the woods, she can make herself forget. They could go on like they had been before, acting like they did not know each other. Pandora could do this for him to make sure she can stay safe. If Negan never finds out what is wrong with that?

“Fuck!” Dwight is pacing now, hands shoved in his pockets. “Simon is already making the moves to take over. Arat and I will protect you.”

“From Simon.” Pandora can see the shifting parts now. Simon is always chopping at the bit to spill blood, he is trying to take control.

“Ya from Simon he is worse than Negan!” Dwight takes a few steps backward back towards the door. “I was trying to pay for what I did, helping you get back home. Negan is the monster here.”

“Thank you for helping me.” Pandora can feel the shortness of breath that comes from panic.

Taking a half step forward towards her Dwight drops his voice “If you want to get out, I can help you.”

“No!” Pandora shouts at him, her hand immediately covering her mouth. Though there is no one here to hear her outburst and care. She cannot leave here, this is where she is the safest. “Just leave.” She can finally whisper.

“All you have to do is ask.” he doesn't look at her making the promise to the floor.

“I said leave!” Now she is shouting, her face hot and red. Finally, Dwight ducks his head down lower and slips out the door.

The moment he leaves, Pandora is hunched over herself next to her chair, in an attempt to hold the scream she can feel bubbling in her chest. She is angry, anger that can usually be solved by breaking something, oh how she wants to smash something. The first days here that was all she did destroy and destroy every single that had been given to her. Now thought, now she knew better. Instead, she racks her too long fingernails against the skin inside her arms. The stinging pain helps her calm down, gives her mind somewhere else to go.

Two days at Hilltop and she is coming apart at the seams, falling back into old ways of coping. The sheets are calling to her again, and Pandora slips in them fully clothed. She doesn’t want to eat, not anymore, besides she was sure she ate that day.

She wants to sleep instead, this time she only takes one blue pill.

Even with the one blue pill, her sleep is not deep and is plagued by images of Simon wheeling Lucille at her. Chasing her down the darkened halls of the Sanctuary. As she runs the halls change and suddenly she is running through the endless hallway of the big house in Hilltop.

At the end of the hallway she can only see one door, Pandora runs for it, one hand clutching her side that runs with bright red blood. She is always running in her dreams these days. It opens before she can reach it, a shadow cast from standing there.

“Hey there little Princess.” The voice is unmistakably Simons he is somehow in front of her. The sight of him sends her tumbling backwards ready to turn around and go the other way. But the hall is not a hall anymore and the wall at the end is closing on her shoving her forward into his waiting arms.

In her panic she is jolted awake picturing Simon already here in her room. Her hands reach for her lamp in the darkness, stiff, heavy, and fumbling. Pandora doesn’t find the switch to turn on the lamp, instead she knocks it over, glass shattering.

She cannot say anything, too panicked, it’s too dark, her tongue too heavy in her mouth. Still she looks to the door, sure she will find Simon there. Instead, the figure lit up from behind cuts a more impressive figure and she knows him right away.

“Don’t move Pandora.” Negan uses her name, part of her hates that, part of her is just so damn relieved she doesn’t care. He snaps on her small overhead kitchen light, dingy yellow glow painting the room.

Negan looks tired, his jacket is gone. Leaving only a blood and dirt stained white t-shirt. He is dirty too, face covered in dried blood, a few scratches she can make out along the brow line. Pandora thinks of her own bullet hole and what a pair they make together.

“Well, look at you.” He shakes his head the tiniest of smiles tugging the edge of his lips.

Her head is still partly wrapped up in her nightmares, but she blinks and tries to smile. “Hi.” She is sitting up now, the blankets pooling around her waist. The light is still a strain on her eyes, but it doesn’t matter because Negan is standing in her kitchen. The pressure in her chest is gone, the nightmares she had just seen don’t matter anymore. He would never allow Simon to hurt her.

“We have a lot to talk about Princess, but I need to get cleaned up first.”

Even though he says that, he cleans up after her first. Getting a small dustpan and broom from under her sink, she didn’t even know that was there. He cleans the glass in silence, not remarking on the mess at all. Then he disappears into the bathroom.

Pandora doesn’t sit in the bed and wait, she goes into the fridge to see if there is anything she can get him to eat. Again there isn't much canned beans and a tomato soup. She makes them both together, scooping out two servings into bowls.

Pandora has finished with the soup and is loading the dirty dishes into the sink when he comes out of the bathroom. He had found new clothes in her bathroom. Negan is wearing a new pair of sweatpants and a white t-shirt. He had brushed his hair, combing it back from his face; he doesn’t shave though, leaving the beard just making it look a lot more kept.

Negan just places the bowl in his hands, and heads for the high-backed chairs at the window. The view of the night sky is great from here, past the parking lot miles and miles of clear skies.

When Negan lowers himself down into the other chair, she makes a note to watch his movements. He moves slower, more stiff, part of her wants to ask where he has been this whole time. Negan is faster though always one step ahead of her and her damaged brain.

“Can you believe my surprise when I showed up tonight to find out you were back.” Negan watches her with the spoon in his hand, he eats a few more bites. Pandora does the same: she wasn’t really hungry but knows that she should eat something. “Who brought you back?”

“No one did, I found my way back.” There is a swell of pride in her chest then. She had done this impossible thing, made her back to him despite everything. “That night when your men came I didn’t know you weren’t there. I snuck out and found Arat she brought me back made sure I was safe.”

“All on your own, huh? That’s my girl.” Negan’s laugh is low and dark. He has his now empty bowl in his hand and reaches out for her own. Pandora scoops the rest of the soup into her mouth before handing it to him.

There is a tightness in her chest, and unthinking she rubs the marks on her wrists from the other day, pain shooting up her arm in sweet relief.

“They are always trying to kill me. I got shot.” The last line is blurted out as she lifts her white shirt to show him the bandage on her side.

Negan is back at her side in no time, crouching down in front of her he touches just the edges of the bandage, Pandora doesn’t flinch. “They aren’t they. I will have to do something about that.” he uncurls her fingers from her shirt, letting it drop back down to cover her. “Go to bed Princess, let's take a look at that why don’t we.”

Pandora has no problem letting Negan check her wound. He isn’t that unknown doctor. Here she lays back on the bed flat, her shirt pulled up again to expose the covered wound. When Negan comes back, he has his hands full. In one hand is the bottle of whiskey she saw on the counter, and two small glass cups. On the other hand is some cream clothes and fresh bandages.

At first he works in silence, peeling the old tape from her wound and exposing the wound to the air. She gasps only a little when the air touches it; the pain is a sharp sting. Then his fingers spread a cool cream, and the feeling in the area is gone. “Patched you up good if I do say so myself. I know you didn’t run that night. Told them to find you knew you would be looking for us. My girl knows where she is safe.”

“I’m safe here.” Pandora whispers more for herself than anything else. She doesn't watch him work. Instead she turns to the other side drifting.

Negan puts everything away and comes to the other side of the bed, pouring them both glasses of whiskey. It burns her chest but makes everything else feel less hard. Damn did she miss this.

“I let a wolf in my henhouse,” Negan finally says when he has finished the first glass and poured himself another one. “Dwight has been sneaking around my fucking back feeding information to Rick the Prick and his merry bunch.”

This draws her spine up and makes her look at him, a hand resting on his forearm. The rage is right there, simmering just below the surface, she can see it. This makes her panic just a little. She knows Dwight is a traitor. She said she would keep his secret, but that was before Negan came back before he knew everything.

Pandora can see the room in the basement, a square of nothing but yawning darkness, “I saw him.” She pauses to finish her own glass, pouring more for the both of them. “I woke up once in the woods, I saw Dwight. He said he was taking me back to you, but Rick’s people were there too.” She doesn’t say Daryl's name, no cannot bring herself to conjure his image here in his room. Instead, she calls them Rick’s people, not her own, not anymore.

“You believed him didn’t you?”

“He always said he was your man.” She whispers her eyes prickle from the memory or from the whiskey she has long since stopped caring. “The next time I woke up I was at Hilltop.”

Negan is pinching the bridge of his nose, eyes screwed shut. “I am barely holding it together here Princess.”

There is silence again for a few seconds Pandora has no words for him now. There is nothing to say when a kingdom falls apart under them. So she fills their glasses again and is well on her way to being drunk when she takes that sip. They drink for a few minutes in silence, her head feeling lighter, her side almost forgotten. In the time she takes to finish her third drink Negan is pouring himself a fourth. Slipping under the covers she holds her glass out shaking her hand.

A true smile spreads across his face, one she hasn’t seen in a long time.

“Lot’s of other pretty girls you could be drinking with tonight.” She comments sipping her glass, Pandora has reached the bold stage of her being drunk.

“Naw they don’t have half the brains you do Princess.” Negan answers with a chuckle. “They want to know when things are getting back to normal and ask too many questions. Besides, no one knows I’m back yet. I have big plans for tomorrow.”

“What are you going to do with Dwight?”

“That I’m working on.” Negan rubs his chin in thought. “I can’t just kill him. That’s too easy for such a snake.”

Pandora leans back more against the pillows, fulfilling them to make them more comfortable. Negan gets settled in beside her too one arm pillowed behind his head.

“Make an example out of him.” She suggests with a shrug of her shoulders. Rolling on her side she faces him now, watching him through the dim light she had turned on in the kitchen. “There was another girl with us when I was taken.” Pandora remembers the girl she wasn’t someone she knew, some girl from another group. “She tried to run at night, when they caught her they broke her legs. No one tried to run again.”

From this bed, in this room, with this man the horror of that time cannot seem to reach her. That happened to someone else, not to her. She speaks of these times with ease but she cannot help but notice the twisted look that passes over Negan’s face. The time before Daryl found her is always a sore spot for Negan, he doesn’t like to hear about it.

“I’ll think about it.” Is the only answer she gets before they fall back into silence.

Pandora curls to her side pulling the blankets up under her chin. “And Rick?”

“Now that I have had time to think about.” Negan chuckles “I have a whole fake plan I’m going to let Dwight hear. That needle dick asshole will send my plans right to Rick. I’ll be waiting though.”

“Hmm.” Pandora purrs from under the blankets. “I like that.”

“I’m going to spend the night Princess that alright?”

Pandora laughs, pulling her knees to her chest. “Of course. When I came back I woke up from a nightmare alone.”

Negan opens an arm to her, drunk and unthinking all she wants is to be warm so she goes to him. Oh boy is he warm, an undeniable furness pumping out heat that makes her releases the tension she might have not known she was holding.

“What did you dream about now?”

Pandora laughs so hard she shorts a little, “I don’t dream I have nightmares.” She finally says through little giggles they dye off when she thinks about her nightmare. “I was being chased through Hilltop but the only way out was right to Simon. He reminds me of the wolves”

Negan shifts beside her, “Pandora.” The tone of his voice makes her turn to face him. “I would never let him hurt you.”

“I know.”

“Go to sleep Princess Pandora I’ll watch out for your nightmares.”
She sleeps, she still dreams of fire and running but they don't end in her death so maybe they are getting better. Gasping awake from something she cannot remember Pandora groans trying to hide her face. The sun is casting it rays on high, blasting through the windows with no regard for the pounding behind her eyes. One of these days she will wake up puking.

The bed is warm, thanks to Negan she remembers feeling the weight of him next to her.

“Hey there princess.” Negan’s voice is rough with sleep, they have slept in more than usual. “Hungry.”

There is a pang in her stomach but it is also accompanied with a rolling in her stomach. She isn't sure she likes the feeling of that, but still she is hungry. When she doesn't answer right awake her stomach does it for her letting out a growl.

Negan takes the bit of nothing in her kitchen and turns in into breakfast. Soon there are two steaming bowls of oatmeal with sweetened condensed milk on her table. Pandora watches him from the bed but when he pulls out a chair, she gets up to join him.

Her shirt is long enough to cover her tights, with her black tights just peeking under the shirt. As she sits, she can feel his gaze running over her, it makes her cheeks turn red but she ignores him and lowers herself into a chair.

They eat together in silence for a while, Pandora goes slow, each bite threatening to come back. “I feel sick.” She mumbles from her seat, chin resting on her clothes fist. Her head was pounding, the marching band in there had no regard for how little she must have slept last night or how much she had to drink.

“Guess I let you drink too much last night huh?” Negan is up already adding his bowl to the sink.

“You think?” Pandora sighs, finishing her own bowl. At the sink she cleans up after them. Negan had disappeared somewhere. A quick glance over her should place him at the window, his arm leaning on the glass just watching.

By the time she is finished the lines she had cut into herself are inflamed red and raw. Pandora isn't quite as quick as she thinks because as she reached for the paper towel to cover some blood Negan is already there with a cloth in his hands.

“Care to explain?” He doesn’t seem like he is judging her but sometimes it is hard to tell for sure. Now he leads her back to the bed where he already has the wound cleaning kit on the bed-side table. “You think I didn’t see that last night. I thought we were past this shit Pandora.”

A lump rises in her throat not her breakfast, but a ball of emotion she does not want to deal with. Instead of an answer she can only cry, a tear dropping onto the arm that Negan is cleaning.

“Hey come on now Princess don’t do that shit I ain’t mad.” Negan takes his hand away from her arm wiping the tea with his thumb. He goes back to wrapping a white bandage around her wrist.

“I came back, and you were gone, and they thought maybe that was it.” Pandora whispers the words out now. “There were whispers about Simon they scared me.”

Negan only sighs cleaning up the supplies and adding them back to a little red first aid bag. “I will always be here to protect you Princess. Ok?”

Nodding she wipes her eyes, but doesn't move from the bed.

“How about you help me out today, huh? Going to be a busy one.”

“I can come with you.”

“Why the fuck not?” Negan stands a hand on her shoulder. “There is a meeting happening, one I shouldn’t know about. I want you to go before everyone else and save me a seat.”

Pandora only nods, lifting her chin to look at him. This is good, make herself useful, make sure she is with him. If she is busy she cannot think about Hilltop about Daryl, about a small part of her that wants to go back.

An hour goes by Pandora is dressed, her hair is done and she is almost ready. At her door she hears a knock, leaving the bathroom she calls for them to come in.

Standing in her kitchen is Hunter and another amber haired man she did not know.

“Hey Princess we are going to come with you to the meeting Big Boss said so. Ready?”

Tilting her head to the side she smiles at the other man, “Pandora.” She says holding out her hand for him to shake. For a long second no one moves than he reaches out and grabs her hand.

“Robert. Nice to meet you.”

“I didn’t get to say thank you for the other night, so thank you both of you.”

Hunter shrugs looking down he seems to hide a blush but Pandora can’t be sure. “It’s nothing glad to have you back is all. Let’s go.”
As she walks down the halls, there is something in the air now, a tension that crawls at her skin. Under the long sleeves of her sweater Pandora grips her wrists, that sweet stab of pain carrying her forward. Do they really think Simon would hurt her, what is she even thinking she knows he will hurt her. He would like it. He is like the wolves men who like to watch suffering, to make women suffer at their hands. That is something she swears she will ever be again, a victim of men like that.

The room is empty when they get there, so Pandora heads for the head of the table. Robert and Hunter are silent now, all work and no play standing on either side of her. Sinking into the chair she has come to see that Negan spares no expense when it comes to his own comfort. The plush leather chair is comfortable.

Dwight is the first one to enter, they stare at each other for a few long seconds. In the darkness of her room last night they talked about what Negan would do with him, now seeing him here her stomach is sick. A wild part of her brain wants to ask him for help right now, get her out of here before the blood is too much. But she knows better this is the place to be, Negan is trying to make things better and Rick is trying to destroy all they have worked for.

“What the fuck?” He finally spits out taking a few steps like he is going to come to her. Instead he is blocked, Hunter doesn't speak, he only steps in Dwight's path. That is enough to get his point across and Dwight is sitting in a chair to her left now.

Gary is next only managing to look more tired the moment he sees her. They must know this is not going according to plan, they know something is off. Negan has always had a flair for the dramatic that's for sure, they must have an idea that he might be back already. A few others

 

enter she is not sure what their names are, only having seen them in passing.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Simon is charging in closing the distance between them in long angry strides. His face is red with rage, words partly spit out at her. “I asked you a fucking question.”

Before this moment she had never seen rage like this in Simon. A dark cultivated mind yes, but this rage that wants to rip her in half right here this is new. Before she can even get her brain working enough past the fear to answer him Robert and Hunter have placed themselves in front of where she is sitting.

Mouth dry and heart pounding she opened her mouth but nothing comes out. Simon is trying to get around the two men who tell him in low tones they are not going to allow it.

“Who the fuck is in charge here get out of my fucking way!” He reminds her of a feral dog, snapping and foaming at the mouth with rage.

To her right Pandora notices a slight shift in movement, in her panic she had almost forgotten this room was full of people. Arat has her hands curled around the handle of her gun ready to stand at a moment's notice.

“Well, thanks for saving me seat Princess.” The room is still tension still there but frozen in the air like ice.

The air rushes out of her mouth from a breath she didn’t know she had been holding. Negan steps into the room and her two guards fall back behind her. He walks around the other side of the room avoiding Simon but coming right to her side. Pandora stands moving to the chair to the right of his own. Negan slipped behind her two hands and squeezed her shoulders before she lowered herself into the chair.

Negan doesn't speak and doesn't need to, he sits taking out a rage and oil to clean that bat. Simon still stands mouth agape wrestling to get his anger under control. Pandora just waits, the silence is heavy around them. It is only broken by Simon finally sliding down into a chair.
“I thought they killed you and that you were gone, like,” Simon holds his fingers out and snaps them. “Like that. I lacked discipline. And I made it personal. And that's why I moved things from infection to extermination at the Hilltop. Yes, things went bad.”

A pause and Pandora is watching Simon, he looks like a man who knows he is looking at death. Still, he tries to talk it way out of him, charm the Grim Reaper away.

“Though I think it's possible, we may have found ourselves in a similar tactical situation, regardless of approach. We don't know that. So I'll own it. I just ask that you give me a pass on this one. I'll make it up to you.I promise you that.”

 

Together her and Negan are two sides of the same coin; he has not raised his eyes to look at Simon once; she has not looked away. Pandora has been in the hands of men like him before, it is best to never look away from something so dangerous.

As the room falls into silence Negan finally looks up a grin tugging at his lips. He is a picture of ease here, leg over the table Lucille over his shoulder. Pandora knows better, knows that now is when he is most dangerous violence makes him calm.

“You know I remember when I took this place,” With another chuckle Negan stands the bat in one hand walking the length of the table. “When you helped me take this place. Wasn’t sure I wanted to keep you on board. I mean, before me, before there was a system in place, what you did, killing all those men, those boys in that settlement so long ago, a lot of people would think that is some psychotic shit. Like that is the work of a demented, broken, goddamn ghoul.” Negan is standing behind Simon now at the other end of the table. Pandora watches transfixed on the moment. She knows what is going to happen and part of her is screaming for it. “Like that's not someone that you want to work with, let alone stand next to. So I figured I'd keep my eye on you. And I did. And everything seemed to work out right up until this point. I'm gonna need you on your knees.”

Silence falls and Negan catches her eyes from the other side of the table, Pandora only stares back unmoving. It is so quiet in this moment it seems like the room is collectively holding their breath. Frozen, waiting for the impending violence that is soon to erupt in front of them.

“You gonna make a move or what?” Negan purrs the question of tilting his head to the side just a fraction. Pandora can feel a knot of dread curling in her gut, suddenly she is not sure of the direction this conversation is taking.

“No move to make.”

A test, she thinks to herself, watching the exchange between the two men. Negan wants to see how far Simon’s betrayal runs, are there others in this room who would help him take the Sanctuary, is there a coup here?

“No, there isn’t” The room is so tense that she might choke.

Negan lowers the bat from his shoulder and pats Simon. “All is forgiven. Get your ass up. We’re good.”

Dread coils in her gut moving through her like a snake. This is a mistake she knows it, knows men like Simon will not lay down belly up. It had taken him all of one day to step up, how long until he tries again.

Simons stands trying to look as casual as he can after a very near brush with death. “I won’t let you down, not you.”

Negan grins games like these are his favorite. “I appreciate the hell out of that, I really do but the next time you raise your voice to my Princess we will have a fucking problem. Do you understand?” as he speaks he has walked the length of the table again ending up right back where he started his chair next to her own. As he sits he pats her head, much like a pet.

“Sure thing Boss.” Simon is taking his seat now head down.

There is a room full of eyes on her, and she refuses to look at them. Rather straightens her spine and waits like the rest of them. There is a pause than Negan taps the bat on the table and suddenly there is a map on the table.

Pandora leans over just a fraction, if it had not been labelled she wouldn't know what they were looking at. In the middle there is a circle with the name Hilltop written under it. Around the circle are hand drawn X’s creating a complete circle around the protected community.

Negan leaned down and touched the X with his finger, “This is where we start the first of our new staging posts.” He grins all too pleased with himself and this plan. “See, we do not have to take the Hilltop. We just have to make sure that the farmers can’t leave.” Negan is standing again passing behind her seat. “We stay nimble, we stay light. We plunk their asses every time one of them tries to poke their head out. Sometimes right in front, sometimes a mile away but every goddamn time.”

Pandora cannot help but leave over more pulling her chair closer to the table in order to see. She is fully away from how many eyes turn to her the moment she shifts her chair. The only one she thinks about is Dwight, he is right here in the room listening to everything. How many people know what is happening, just her? These plans are fake or partly fake that she knows for sure.

“Tomorrow afternoon,” Negan is speaking again standing at the front of the table. “I’m going to take a ten team to this spot. I am stocking it with supplies and the ammo that Dr. Smartypants is making. Everyone here is gonna do the same thing, same time, different spot.” He points at all the little X’s littering the map. “End of the day tomorrow we will have cache after cache around that Hilltop and always be spitting distance from a reload.” A heavy hand is placed on her shoulder. He has made his way back to her now. “There will be teams around that place sniping them on by one day after day until we have full attrition.”

No one speaks as they stare at the map, Simon is the first to speak. “It’s an ambitious plan with testicular heft. I’ll give you that. Very happy to have you back Boss Man.”

Negan’s hand is still on her shoulder so she looks up at him. “There is a secret way out.”

He looks down at her and the blood lust is gone from his face, “What’s what Princess?”

Standing Pandora leans closer to the map, her finger circles the X for a moment before pointing at an empty space. “There is a secret way out, right here. There is a tunnel here they could slip into the woods and you wouldn't see them”

Behind her there is a wall of heat and Negan’s voice is tickling her ear, “Hm interesting. How do you know what Princess?”

“It’s how I got out.” Those words are huge, hanging in the room in front of her. That should he harder to say than it is, to explain how she left the people she once called her family.

A hand is back on her shoulder with a tight squeeze and that brings her back to this moment and this room. “Good eye Princess, thank you. Simon you heard the women make sure you get another team to cover that spot.”

“Will do. Very happy to have you back boss man.”

“Damn good to be back” His voice holds the pur she had become so used to. “Alright everyone clear out. Except for you Dwight got a few things we need to kick around.”

 

For a moment Pandora is not sure where he wants her to go, does everyone include her too. Pandora shifts just a little
crossing and uncrossing her legs.

“That’s you to Princess,” Negan is pulling her chair out for her. “Just for now, Princess. Hunter takes her wherever she wants to go.”

Notes:

And scene. Wonder where Pandora will end up in the new flurry of events? Well keep your eyes peels because it's alot. I sweat to god every time I edit on of these things it turns into a beast. I hope you like it tho!

Chapter 54: Little Doll

Little Doll

 

 

It was so clear in the meeting, even more clear as Hunter leads her to steps and up to the roof. They pass groups of people huddled in corners, Negan’s name floats on the wind. The uneasy is so thick it almost chokes her. Though as many times as she hears Negan names as she walks she always hears Simons and it sets her teeth on edge. There is something happening here still, that shifting under the surface she had seen days ago has not stopped. Her nerves are on fire and she needs a break, just a moment to really breathe. 

 

Pandora had always been a lover of history; it was her major before the world ended. She cannot help but think of this as a kingdom about to have a coup. The leader ripped from their place of power with violence. There is the nagging question of her, what happens to her when the power shifts. The last royal family of Russia the Romanovs had their reign ended in a pool of blood. Pandora cannot help but wonder if Negan’s will be the same. 

 

On the roof Hunter doesn’t step away from the door, instead he stands like a silent century. The door opens a few times, but no one else enters. There are a few people up here mostly they are tending to the plants in the back, their conversation doesn’t reach her where she has sprawled out. 

 

It occurs to her that this place has been kept empty on purpose. Hunter had been opening the door every so often, but no one came in.  Instead, a thick heavy silence has fallen inside the greenhouse. She had been so wrapped up in her own head she had hardly noticed. Now it's all she sees, the empty space around her. 

 

“Hunter?” Pandora is laying on her back staring up into the sky and calls out to him from there. “Why isn't anyone else up here?” 

 

Silence ticks by for a few seconds before she hears him speak. “I’m just doing what I’m told.” 

 

“By who?” Pandora wonders who wants to keep her from other people.  Unless they are keeping other people from her. She remembers the other night when she and Negan had kicked his wives out here. The next morning everyone had heard the story. They all think someone would hurt her, because it would hurt Negan. 

 

“By Arat and Negan.” 

 

Pandora feels her throat go dry, and she reaches up to stroke it. Fear tastes bitter in the back of her throat. He should not have let Simon live. It was a mistake. That's why everyone is so scared, they fear Simon. 

 

“They think someone would hurt me. That Simon would hurt me” Pandora is pulling herself up now she wants to see Hunters face. He isn't looking at her though, instead he is looking down at the floor, his hands stuffed in his pockets. 

 

“No one will, that’s why I’m here.” Hunter still does not look when he talks to her. 

 

Then the door behind him opens and his attention shifts away from her. Sighing, Pandora pulls her knees to her chest and shifts on the sofa. She can't help but wonder what everyone else knows. What is being talked about out there among the people. 

 

Some time ticks by in silence until Pandora asks to be taken back to Negan's room. There is a warm rice and bean dish waiting when she unlocks the bathroom door. It was just easier to come back here, it felt safer, Hunter was outside the door. Besides, why not sleep in the nicer room, Negan had it much better than she did. Though the view from her window was a lot more interesting, Negan had the books to make up for it. 

 

When she is done eating Pandora finds another book, this one by Anne Rice and curls up in the bed. Her head is always such a fucking mess it’s easy to fall into the pages. After a few hours the room is falling into darkness, when she turns on the bedside light on the door opens in the next room. She had left the door open and could hear his footsteps.  

 

 “Hey there Princess.”  Negan is standing in the doorway now his arms crossed over his chest. 

 

Pandora slips a sheet of paper in the book to mark her place before looking up at him, “There's food in the microwave.” He looks tired and they stare at each other for a few seconds.

 

Then he’s gone and she can hear him pressing the button in the kitchen. He comes to join her in the bed, the bowl in one hand, a bottle and two glasses in the other. At the side of the bed he flatters almost dropping the glasses. 

 

Pandora is quick for once and catches them with a small laugh, “ You could have asked for help.” She places the two cups on her nightstand and takes the bottle from him as well before he sits down. 

 

“You look so comfortable Princess.” Negan is sitting now propped against the pillows eating. 

 

Pandora shakes her head and fills the glasses handing on to him. “You were gone all day today.” she mutters taking a long drag of whiskey. It burns but the sweet kind, like when she used to run in Alexandria. 

 

They had left each other sometime in the late afternoon and she had come back here alone. The time had passed so quickly as she had lost herself in her book. She had hardly ever noticed that he never came back. 

Negan sighs, drowning the contents of his glass in one gulp. “I know, Princess. They day got away with me. What did you do all day?”

 

Pandora shrugs, refilling his glass and her own. “I went to the greenhouse and started reading a new book.”  This time she takes smaller sips from her glass, her chest already on fire. “What did you do?” 

“I tried to sniff out the rats. Simon’s been whispering behind my back.” 

 

Pandora goes stiff her hands gripped the glass she was holding, “Why do you let him live?” 

 

Negan is filling their glasses again, his shoes are gone. Setting the bottle down, he slips under the covers with her. Pandora just shifts slightly to the side to make room for him. She had never been one for sleeping alone, the night was too dark for that. 

 

The light is still on beside the bed so she can see him when he fills their cups again. “Simon is a weed in my garden, but you can’t just pull one weed.” Negan’s hand is in a tight fist now. “You have to pull out all the roots.” 

 

“There are others working with him.” Pandora sips her glass, closes her eyes for a second and tries to picture the faces of anyone who might support Simon. None come to her mind, she only sees the ones Negan knows are loyal anyway. “You have to get them all in one move. Find out where they were meeting, catch them plotting. No one will say anything once they are dead” 

 

“You might just have a head for this after all.” Negan laughs, shaking his head before reaching to get the light. “Figured out my plan without breaking a sweat. They all wonder why I like you.” 

 

They talk for longer in the darkness, spilling their secrets. Pandora confesses how much of a mess she is after Hilltop, and how she dreams about it burning. Some time in the middle of a story about one of his wives, Frankie, she thinks Pandora is sleeping. 

 

In the morning she has no desire to leave his room. Plagued by the thought of men in the halls plotting for a new leader. Simon would kill Rick and all of his people. She didn;t want that, she just wanted everyone to live. Like her, just do what you're told and live. Negan wanted that too she knew it, but Simon wanted blood.

 

Instead she stays in Negan’s room, confident someone is outside and she is safe. After breakfast the book from yesterday sits in the living room, she stays there until there is a knock at the door. 

 

Thinking it might be Began sending her lunch Pandora goes to the kitchen before she calls for the person behind the door to come in. The second it opens she regrets the words, but it's too late to take them back.

 

“Hey there Princess.”

 

Simon steps into the room a bowl of steaming food in his hand.  Pandora can already feel the panic in her chest but she had enough wits to step back out of the kitchen. 

 

“Now your bodyguard wasn’t happy with me coming to see you.” Simon is stepping into the room shutting the door behind him. For a second Pandoras can see bobies in the hall, hear the sound of voices shouting and cursing. “But I told him it was fine because we’re friends. aren’t we?” 

 

“What do you want Simon?” Pandora spits out his name, hair on and back of her neck standing on edge.  Panic makes her bold, there are many ways this little meeting could go. She did not like any of them. Her heart trips in her chest, the sound thundering in her ears. This isn’t like the meeting, Negan isn't going to step through the door. 

 

“Ah see that shit hurts my heart.” Simon shakes his head moving to take the chair across from her. “Because I thought we were friends. I mean I brought you back with us that night didn’t I?” 

 

Simon has set the bowl down and is walking around the side of the table towards her. The grin on her face makes her sick to her stomach. This is a dangerous man, worse than Negan. Somehow Pandora still finds iron in her blood. 

 

“Dwight brought me back.” Her chin comes up slowly to meet his gaze, he is suddenly mad as a rabid dog. 

 

“I let him bring you back, I could have out a fucking bullet in your head and no one would have blink.” Simon closed the distance in a few quick steps, and has back backed into a corner. He brings the back of his hand to her cheek and trails his fingers down to her hip. “But I do like you.” 

 

There is a fire in her chest now, a blaze that burns hot. This would never be her life again. “Get the fuck away from me.” Pandora snarls, she shoves his hand then ducks under his arm. Simon is quick though sticking his foot out to trip her. 

 

Pandora hits the ground not expecting it, arms fly up to protect her face. Simon grabs a fist full of her hair pulling her up to stand again. “Oh Princess I came to offer you a chance to get on the winning side.” 

 

He lets go of her hair and Pandora steps backward trying to put more space between them. She begins to back out of the kitchen towards the bedroom. 

 

“I think you would look so good standing by my side, don’t you.” 

 

“Get out!” Pandora screams at him, but Simon only grins. 

 

“See I know I can fix this little attitude problem, you got too spoiled.” Simon lunges at her then wrapping his hand around her throat. In a flash she is panicked and unable to breath. 

 

Pandora shuts her eyes for a second trying to remember everything Rosieta and Arat had taught her. With one leg she kicks Simon in the balls. He swears but doesn’t drop her, only recovers and lifts her feet off the ground. 

 

“Oh Princess I am going to have fun breaking you.” He leans towards her as he speaks, breath tickling her cheek. 

 

Pandora smashed her forehead against his, their skulls connecting painfully. Simon does drop her and Pandora is running for the bedroom. Just get behind the fucking door, she tells herself. By some miracle she does, and the second the lock is in place she is sobbing on the ground. 

 

Outside the room she can hear Hunter shouting, and Simon speaking with a fake calm. Pandora tunes them out. Her throat aches, the bruise must already be blooming on her skin. Bile rises in her throat and she finds herself doubled over on the toilet. Pandora checked the lock on the door three times before curling into a ball in the bathtub to wait for Negan. 

 

She isn't sure how much time has passed before she hears the knock on the door. There are no windows in the bathroom, but the empty feeling in her stomach tells her it's been some time. 

 

“Pandora, it’s me.” 

 

For a second she doesn’t move and isn't sure why. For a second she wishes it was someone else behind that door. 

 

“Come on, Princess,” 

 

Pandora stands getting out of the tub, closing the scant distance to the door. With One hand around her neck to hide the bruise, the other hand unlocks the lock before she stands back. Negan has it open in a second, and a quick glance behind him tells her the room is clean again. 

 

“That fucking asshole.” Negan is hovering over her, moving her hand away from the bruise on her throat. She hisses in pain as he brushes his thumb too hard against the purple flesh, he drops his hand in seconds. 

 

“It’s not Hunter’s fault, Simon came here with men.” Pandora whispers, unable to look up. Negan reaches for her hands and brings her out into the living room, lowering her onto the sofa. 

 

“What happened?” He sits beside her when he asks. 

 

“He said things were changing, he was taking over.” 

 

There is silence as Negan processes and Pandora tries to keep calm. 

 

“I never thought he would come here. Pandora, I’m sorry.” 

 

Pandora doesn’t speak, only sits stiff backed on the sofa. She had come out on the other side of this alive; she had fought him. Negan has her one hand cupped in his, heat spreading up her arm. 

 

“He tried to have me killed.” Negan finally says breaking the silence in the room. “I’m going to kill him for that, and especially for this.” Negan looks down at her, one hand reaching up to touch the bruise on her neck. Thanks to Simon her throat is decorated with a green and purple bruise the shape of his hand. 

 

“Can I come?” Pandoras ask suddenly, there is a need to see blood. 

 

“I’m going to fight him, Princess, hand to hand.” 

 

“I wouldn’t have expected any less.” 

 

Negan laughs a little, then they fall into a strange silence. It's not comfortable, but it isn't uncomfortable. Pandora feels the heat of his skin through her sweater and melts just a little. Negan puts his arm around her. She leans in despite herself. 

 

“Ready to go?” He asks finally. “Let’s show the man who is the boss.”

 

They walk down seven flights of stairs until they are on the main floor. She remembers this place from when they burned the doctor alive. The fire isn't lit today though, today is for blood. Pandora stands behind Negan. Hunter is still there, a little paler than before but more alert at the same time, one hand resting on the hilt of his gun. 

 

She made a mental note to check on him after this was all over. He seemed nice. A few eyes turn to her when she steps in and the whispers are already moving. She wants to find a dark little corner to step into. Instead, Arat steps up beside her and she has never been more grateful to see the other women. 

 

“Are you all right?” Arat doesn't say hello, no need to mince words now. 

 

“Ya I have an excellent teacher.” Pandora whispers, not taking her eyes off Negan as he moves into the center of the room. 

 

“I’m glad you’re ok.” Arat says nothing else because then she and everyone else is all watching Simon come into the room. 

 

There is a madness in his eyes, he grins at them. His eyes find her’s and he winks. Pandora jerks up as if she is a puppet and someone has pulled her strings too tight. A shifting in the figure beside her snaps her back into the present moment. Arat has her hand firmly resting on her arm now. 

 

“Everyone!” Simon breaks the silence but Pandora isn’t watching him, the sound of his voice makes her shake again. “After this is done, we get to work. Just know that I didn't want  this. But the Sanctuary must stand. This is not the man to prosecute this conflict. Just wanted to say... a grateful enclave” Simon turns in a flash landing a blow to the side of Negan’s face.  “Thank you!”

 

She gasps her hand flying over her mouth in an attempt to cover the sound. The action has surprised Negan because he is on the floor and Simon is raining down a few more punches. No is speaking or making any sounds, except for her breathing seems too loud in the small space where everyone else seems to be holding theirs. Simon pulls Negan to his feet and that is all he needs to get his footing again. 

 

Simon lands another hit so hard Pandora swears she can feel it in the side of her face. Negan grunts though and as Simon moves in again Negan is faster, an elbow to Simon’s back. It is almost like a car crash so horrible it is hard to tear your eyes away from it. That is how Pandora feels now like she cannot stop watching, despite the growing panic. The struggle continues in front of her but they are both moving too fast. It is hard to tell who is winning. 

 

Negan headbuts Simon so hard Pandora’s teeth rattle that is when it takes a turn. With Simon on the ground panting she knows this is close to being over. She doesn't mind either, it is quite soothing watching Negan beat him with his bare hands. Her own skin crawls for the want of it, to hit him just a few times. If she was high there would have been no stopping her, but now undrugged she cant hold herself together on the side lines and wait, wait for Negan to finish. 

 

Negan is slowing down now, raining in a few blows while Simon tries to protect himself. Negan lets him roll over, clutching his side and coughing. Glancing at her, he raises one eyebrow, Pandora only nods. Kill him, she thinks savagely, kill him for touching me.

 

Finally Negan gets down, wrapping his hands around Simon’s throat who still tries to fight. In her head she can see him closing the distance between them in the kitchen of her room, that glint in his eyes. Simon's hand wrapped around her throat, breath hot on her cheek. He would take her if he took this place, Simon was not Negan. Simon was just as much a wolf as the rest of them had been. 

 

“You went for it all at the Hilltop.” Negan snarls the words choking the life from the body under him with every syllable he speaks. “You got Saviours killed, and then you ran away like a coward! You got shown up too many times. Tried to take this fucking place, put your greedy little hands on my things” He leans down now, face nothing but unchecked rage. “Those people, they are always gonna know that there’s a loophole, a way to skate. They are always gonna be looking for that chance to push back, so now I gotta kill all of ‘em just like I’m gonna kill you!” 

 

The last sentence it spit out, in the silence around them the sound of Simons windpipe breaking is as loud as a gun shout. Instead of jumping Pandora finds herself smiling a small one tugging at just the right side of her lips.

 

The silence is only pinpointed by Negan’s ragged breathing and for a few moments he stands there's just breathing, “What an asshole.” 

 

Behind her Hunter calls her name, but she can’t hear it, blood pounding in her ears. Slowly she closes the distance between where she stands and Simon’s lifeless body. His face is distorted, the colour of his skin off, his neck is still bruising fast despite him being dead. Leaning over, she spits in his face. 

 

Behind her Negan only chuckles, slipping his arm around her waist he leans down to whisper in her ear, “Come On now Princess we have one more problem to deal with before this day is over.” 

 

Her eyes flicker to Dwight standing a few rows of people behind them. She doesn’t look for long. She knows what is next for him too. 

 

They are on a level she has spent little time in, nothing seems familiar to her. But Negan is walking Pandora on his right arm, arm tucked into his. Dwight walks on the left. There is some tension, she can feel it. When Negan has her around usually people are more calm, he doesn’t get too crazy around her. It is different now though. He had brought her down to watch him kill Simon with his bare hands. 

 

“Such a damn shame, a waste. Slinking behind my back like some kind of dickless worm. Planning on killing me,  putting his hand on my girl.” Negan speaks as they round a corner one hand patting hers lightly. “Like what else am I gonna do besides crush the guy’s throat.” 

 

“Yeah.” Dwight is not looking at Negan but keeps stealing glances at her. 

 

“Eh, you know, what’s bad for Simon, it’s good for you. And I know we’ve had our ups and downs, D, but I’ve always been able to count on you.” 

 

This is strange and Pandora was sure they were also marching Dwight to his death, not a promotion. When they stop walking she is silent at Negan’s side. 

 

“So congratulations, you are my new right hand man. That is if you accept the promotion.” 

 

“I do and I’ll help you finish this thing with Rick.” 

 

“Don’t sell yourself short, D you already have!” Negan is grinning and she knows that grin. 

 

Dwight turns, shaking his head to open the door in front of them, his room Pandora thinks. That must be his room. When the door opens Pandora understands what she is doing here, she doesn’t know the women sitting in the room by name but she knows she used to be part of Dwight's crew. 

 

Negan is tucking her under his arm pulling her tight against his frame. A glance behind her shows more of his guards coming from around the corner five men maybe, and Aart who slips past her into the room.

 

“Don’t look surprised, Dwight. Yeah, see I found her on the side of the road. Laura, why don’t you tell D what you told me?” 

 

This is where Negan got his information from, the night he came back he already knew about Dwight and this woman was how. There is an icy finger of dread on her spine she doesn’t understand. Because Dwight had done something wrong, he was helping Rick. Whatever happens to him after this is his own fault. 

 

Laura stands her eyes only for Dwight, “That night in Alexandria he turned on us. He killed our team. I ran and I kept running. I was hurt but what kept me alive was the thoughts of getting back here and exposing you for the scum weasel you are.” 

 

Negan chuckles shaking his head, “Now Princess why don't you tell Dwight what you told me.” 

 

Pandora has a lump in her throat and her skin heats at the sudden eyes on her. “When they killed my guard’s in Alexandria Rick’s people brought me to Hilltop. I woke up in the woods and Dwight was there. He told me he was bringing me back, but he lied he was helping them escape. When I found my way back he tried to talk me out of it, he tried to make me stay away” Negan had asked something of her and she had done it, the names were too painful to say. 

 

She can’t say Daryl’s name without a painful twist in her gut and a feeling that makes her want to hide. It feels like that now when she pictures waking in the woods, weak from blood loss and pain. Than seeing Daryl again after so long having him right there in front of her, and the panic. She feels it now as if she is back in that moment knowing how wrong it all is. She isn't there though in the woods, or a captive at Hilltop and she is here in the Sanctuary and the pressure of Negan’s arm reminds her of that. 

 

“It all makes sense now, you told Rick when to attack. How to get to the outposts. You kept us locked in here slipping than workers' guns.” Negan is stepping to the room leaving her forgotten leaning against the door frame. “Maybe you even lied to me about killing Sherry, oh hell for sure lied to me about that.” 

 

Pandora can hear her heart pounding in her chest, this isn't like with Simon she is not excited to watch Dwight die. Why, she isn't sure, but she doesn't want to know. Know that this is where it is heading, it is the only place it could be heading but still she doesn't want to be here. A shaking hand fingers a loose curl and twists it. Something to keep her hands busy. 

 

“So what? You think you’re some sort of a hero?” The last word is punctuated by a sucked in breath, and the hairs on Pandora’s arm are standing on end. “No. You are nothing, a nobody  in way over your head. ” Negan sighs, shaking his head slowly. “But when I said you would come through for me when I needed it oh, I meant it 110 present. See I knew that I could count on you to deliver my plan to Rick, my brilliant if I do say so myself fake ass plan. You used Gregory for that right? I mean I was thinking maybe you'll take some sort of field trip or something but no you got yourself a little delivery boy. Good for you! To deliver all that intel to Rick and the piss patrol that’s gonna lead them into the line of fire they are not going to know what hit em all thanks to my new right hand man.” 

 

He says man and touches Dwight's shoulder, but means Laura the blonde angry woman. She will be the new right man at Negan’s side, because something bad happened and she came back to make it right. Like Pandora. Pandora had come back, she could have stayed away, but there is no away not anymore. Too much of her is tied to this place, to Negan, maybe it's the same for Laura. 

 

“Now see I thought about killing you and then,” Negan sucks in a breath there is something that just passes over his face, pain, regret maybe. She is not sure anyone else can see it, but she sees it. “I thought maybe that’s be too dignified for a backstabbing double-crossing dirt bag such as yourself. No Dwightly boy I got plans for you.” 

 

Negan laughs again shaking his head in a slow deligert motion. The unease she had seen in Negan last night was gone, with his house in order he seemed lighter. Lifting his hand he flicks his fingers for her. She knows what that means so she goes to him, slipping up in the little space under his arm. 

 

“How about it Princess I’m thinking of making Dwighty boy your new errand boy. What’s Princess without a servant.” He leans down when he speaks and makes a show of whispering but she knows everyone can hear them. 

 

Pandora is at a loss for words, if she says no will he just kill him. Though part of her is sure this is not really a question, that part is for show. If Negan had really meant to ask her he would have done it when it was just the two of them. This is a question but with one one really answer. 

 

“He’ll do.” 

 

 

Chapter 55: It's over

Notes:

I like this chapter I know I saw that a lot but I really like this one. I think you are going to be happy with it honestly. I hope everyone is existing because sometimes that is all we got! This little baby brings me some joy in these really strange times.

Negan’s men drag Dwight away int the sea of moving bodies around them. When it's all over Negan wraps his arm around her shoulders keeping her in close.

“I have a few more things to take care of Princess, but I'll meet you for dinner.”

Pandora only nods. Hunter appears at her side, ready to lead her wherever she wants to go. She doesn't ask him to take her somewhere, she just starts walking towards her room. The layout of the building is more familiar now. It has to take her some time to get used to it. Most of the time she refused to pay attention, but now she wanted to know.

Back in her room, she doesn't spend any time there, she knows it's late. Instead, she changes into something she can work out in, puts on her running shoes and is back in the hallway.

“Can you take me to the workout room?”

Hunter is standing in the hallway, arms crossed over his chest. He gives her a once over, eyes stopping on her shoes. “Sure let’s go.”

There is a wave of anger deep inside her, buzzing energy that needs somewhere to go. Before all this, she and Daryl would go on rides, maybe find a walker or two. There was a war going on right now though, and there was no one to take her outside. So this is the next best thing, working the energy out, her brain silent for once. First if cardio, pushing herself on the bike until her legs felt like jello. Then it was bodyweight workouts until the only thing in her head was the screaming of her muscles.

“Pandora what the fuck?!?”

Hunter is hovering somewhere around her, she isn’t sure where since she is on all fours vomiting in a corner. Her head had been so damn loud today, it had taken pushing herself to this level to make it quiet in her brain. Now everything hurts, her lungs are screaming and her stomach is emptying itself on the floor. Or that's what she was doing. But not anymore.

Now though, Hunter is pulling her up to a standing position, and the world is tilting around her.

“He will kill me. Fuck!”

Pandora tries to talk to him, tell him it's fine, this is her fault. When she tries to open her mouth only a groan comes out. She must have blacked out for a bit because the next thing she knows she is in her room.

“What happened?” She can hear Negan's voice now, reaching her while she slept. A groan escapes her, and she rolls over, covering her face but not opening her eyes. Everything hurt, much as it had on the first day with Arat.

“She wanted to work out, so I took her. I waited outside until I heard her throwing up.”

“Thanks, that's it for tonight Hunter. Be back here in the morning.”  

For a few long seconds, the room is silent. She takes only those few seconds to go back to sleep, breathing deep and even again.  She drifts in and out of sleep after that, waking up when she hears Negan calling her name.

“Wake up, Princess.” His hand moves a few heavy waves from her face. “You need to eat something.”

Groaning, she tries to hide from him, bury herself deeper in the blanket.

“No, no. Food, then back to sleep.”

Negan pulls all the covers off of her in one swift movement. Pandora is still wearing the same thing she worked out in. A tank top, sports bra and shorts. He turns to leave and goes back into the tiny kitchen.

Sighing, Pandora sets her legs over the side of the bed. The moment she has her feet down to stand, her legs crumple. She hits the ground hard, but she's only there for less than a minute before Negan is helping her up.

“Worked too hard there, Princess.” Negan lifts her back into the bed and covers her up with the blanket again.  He leaves her there but comes back with a steaming bowl of soup.

“Thank you.” She takes it from him, the warmth seeps into her hands. There are a few silent moments as she eats, spooning the warm soup into her mouth.

“Busy day today, huh?”

It has been a busy day. It seems like forever since they woke up together. Since this morning he had killed Simon and exposed Dwight. Now it was the middle of the night and they were just stopping to eat.

“It has been, I’m so tired.”

The bowl is empty in a few more spoonfuls and she sets it back on the bedside table. He adds his bowl to her own and settles on the bed beside her. Outside the sky is a sea of empty blackness. She must have been sleeping for hours.

“I didn’t mean to hurt myself.” She whispers, tucking herself back under the covers. Negan slips in bed beside her, pillowing his arm under his head. “It was just a long day.”

“Don’t worry about it, Princess.  Where do you want to sleep tomorrow?” Negan reaches out the flickers off the light plunging the room into darkness.

“The Kingdom,” she whispers in the darkness. “I haven't been there.”

“I’ll come back when it’s over.”

“What's your actual plan?”

Negan laughs, a little proud of himself. “When they show up to the outpost, I'll already be waiting.”

“Then you will kill them?" There isn't any reason she needs this information, her nightmares don't need the fuel.

“I'll kill the leaders, and their right-hand men.”

That makes her stomach tighten, she knows Rick's right hand is Daryl and Michonne. It tempts part of her to ask him to spare one of them. It is an insane thought, gone as abruptly as it comes.

"By tomorrow afternoon, this will all be over."

Pandora is a ball under the blankets now, knees up to her chest, holding them tightly.  "Then we rebuild."

"That's right, then we rebuild."

"I'd like the farms to make bread again, I miss bread."

Negan laughs, patting her on the head before shifting his weight in the bed. "I'll make it happen for you Pandora. Anything else you want? "

"Are you going to kill Maggie?"

"The widow?"

"Ya."

"She's a leader."

"She is pregnant," Pandora whispers into the darkness.

"Dammit." Negan sighs. "Oh Princess, I should have included you more, huh? I won't make that mistake again. I won't kill her, but she can't stay there."

"Bring her to the Kingdom with us."

"Good idea. Want a drink?"

"I guess."

They drink together for a few hours, talk about what will come next.  They stay up for a few more hours until there is no hint of light outside. Negan is explaining the fields he wants to plough for more food, somewhere in describing the location Pandora falls asleep.

The next morning he is up before her whispering in her ear to stay in bed, and that he was leaving Arat with her. Huffing a sigh, she rolled over and went back to bed. They had been up too late for her to make an argument for going with him. This might be the time he would say no to her so she doesn't bother, instead goes back to sleep with a small grin on her lips.

Pandora is somewhere between sleeping and waking, and that's where the sounds reach her. In her dream, she is eating on the roof with Negan a map between them. She knows Daryl is behind them, silent and unmoving.

“You are so good, Princess, I’ll keep him alive for you.” Negan then taps the map on the table in quick bursts. Then it gets more urgent until she can tell it's knocking than she is in her bed again. The sound is coming from her door, but the second she opens her eyes, the knocking stops and the door opens.

"Shit Pandora, you didn't hear me." Arat is standing in her kitchen, eyes narrow, glaring at Pandora who lays in a tangle of limbs and sheets.

Instead of an answer, Pandora waves her hand to the empty whiskey bottle on the nightstand.

"No wonder the price of booze is so high you and the big guy are drinking it away."

"Not every night." Now she is sitting up, smoothing down the wild mess of her hair. Her mouth is cotton, having slept too long with too little water. Head pounds, a dull ache in the back on her neck. Reaching to the back of her neck, fingers probing into the soft flesh with light pressure.

" Eat, pack, then we’ll train. I’ll be back in an hour.” then the other woman is gone, leaving a steaming bowl on the table in Pandora's kitchen.

Pandora eats the bowl of scrambled eggs and veggies, she washes it and puts it all in the drying rack. She packs the bag next, starting in the bathroom and moving to the drawers and closet.

There are no real personal items she needs to bring; she doesn't have that here. Still, she packs two bags. One filled with clothes, the other with a mix of clothes and books. She tucks away Negan's spare leather jacket, just in case.

Pandora is changed and ready for when Arat comes back.

"I need a fucking minute." Pandora is panting her sideburns from a hit she hadn't dodged in time. It's been a long few days, there is still a bullet wound in her side. Anyone else would still be recovering, Pandora doesn't have time for that. Still, she feels the need to remind Arat that she was still healing, "Did you forget about my bullet hole?"

"Nope, I'm not hitting that side you didn't notice?" Arat looks like she is being serious. It doesn't feel like she had tempered the training at all. "Let's pack it in, then we should hear from the big guy soon, anyway."

"No!"  Pandora is standing and in a ready position, hands up to protect her face. The noise in her head is so loud in an instant she doesn’t hear the first few times Arat calls her name.

"Pandora." This time it's louder, with Arat standing right in her face.

"Arat I can't just sit around, not today."

Arat is silent for a few long seconds then lungs forward attempting to knock Pandora off her feet. She knew about Simon so Arat copies the encounter with her hand going for Pandora's throat. There isn't enough air even before Arat closes her hands.

Pandora has learned from last time, this time she raises her arms over her head and twists away. The way the weight shifts allows her to break the hold Arat has on her neck. A valuable lesson a little too late, but still needed.

"That's it." Arat claps her hands, laughing. "I prefer you go for the nuts with guys though. Now give me ten suicides."

By the end of suicides, Pandora is sweating while little drops of blood soak the shirt she is wearing. It's a cheap trick bodyweight exercise always knocks her in her ass, and Arat knows that. Laying on her back on the floor, her shirt sticking to her side.

"Should get that looked at Princess." Arat is pulling out her ponytail shaking her hair free.

“If I say I’m done, will you leave me alone?”

Pandora looks up at the ceiling and tests her legs to see if they can hold her. Then Arat sticks her hand out and helps haul her up to a standing position. Her side stings only a little, not as much pain as the last few days. Still, there are a few drops of blood spotting the fabric of her shirt. This is a good place to stop, she thinks, better now have Negan come back to her bloody.

“Fine, but only if you rest.” Arat opens the door and leads them out. They head towards Negan’s room before Pandora stops them.

“I need my bags.” She doesn't want to be in her rooms but doesn't want to be left without her things. It isn't much, just extra clothes, a few books, things she wants. Three flights up, she is opening the door to her room and lifting the two bags from the bed. When she leaves the room again Arat has left in the time it took to get her bag and now Hunter stands in her place. Hunter nods at her and reaches for his larger bag.

“Let me help you, Princess.” He lifts it over his shoulder and begins walking. “I heard something the other day.”

Pushing the door open out into the hallway, Pandora glances back at him, one eyebrow raised. This is the most he has spoken to her in some time and a very bold question.

“Ok.” She ventured a slight gestation in her voice as she slowed her pace to match his.

“One guy who does the night shift says you went to the Olympics. He remembers seeing you on TV.”

Pandora cannot help but laugh. How strange that history always follows her, even here. Somehow she can still see it even now, their first-class seats. The other girl's tight lips smile and waves at the camera. In a flash, she is back there, in the locker her laughing with her team. 

“I was a gymnast,” She muses as they make their way together to Negan's room. “I was on team America. He's right. They flew me to Brazil. It was incredible.”

“Huh, I owe him a pack of cigarettes.” Hunter shrugs and reaches to open the door to Negan’s room to let her inside.

After she has showered, cleaned and re-wrapped her side Pandora stands in the middle of the living room with nothing to do. It must be mid-afternoon by now, and they had not given her any word on the battle.

Unable to help herself, she finds herself in the bedroom reading his notebook. The plans he had for the future were grand. Hours passed away into nothing until a knock sounds on the door.

Flying from her chair, she had the door unlocked in seconds only to see Arat with a strange look on her face.

“Hey, Pris-Pandora. I got you something to eat.” Arat steps into the kitchen, setting the bowl on the counter. She only just noticed that Arat had a bowl of her own. “Though you might like some company.”

There is a sick feeling in her stomach now, a sense of wrong that she cannot seem to pinpoint. Everything is wrong, the food, Arat being here, everything. But somehow she cannot place where it was from. Something was wrong. The tightness in Arat’s face tells her that.

They sit at the small table in the kitchen, one on either side of the table. They are both silent, spines drawn up in tight lines as they eat.  

“What happened Arat.” Pandora says, scoping the last of the pasta in her mouth. She chewed with slow, thoughtful bites, waiting in silence. After what seems like too much time has passed, Pandora lifts her eyes to Arat only to find the women staring out the painted-over windows.

“It’s over,” Arat whispers, “We lost.”

At that moment, the world is nothing but silence. Arat’s mouth id moving, which means she is speaking. Pandora hears nothing, it’s like she is in a wind tunnel. All the sounds around her are sucked into a void of nothingness.

Then Arat is touching her, and the warmth of her hands sends all the sounds rushing back.

“Pandora?” The other women’s voice is higher than pandora has ever heard it and tight down worry.

“He lost?” The war was over, just like he said it would be, but he was on the wrong side. Which means she was on the wrong side. All the things she had done to get here, all the bits of herself she had lost to ensure she was on the side that won, and now. The dam in her chest breaks and Pandora is curled into herself, sobbing.

Arat doesn’t move for a second, unsure how to comfort her as she falls apart. She pats Pandora’s back, before moving to make slow big circles. “Whatever we did, we are alive, we make up for it with the time we have left.”

How can Arat know, how can she look at her crumpled sobbing form and just know? Stitching herself back together for a moment, Pandora takes a deep breath and sits up, hands still wrapped around her middle. “I can’t see them, not yet I need.” Pandora stops speaking.  What does she need? Negan back? No, she didn’t want that. Maybe a little, because everything was so damn easy. He kept her safe.  Daryl here, maybe? Or just a few god damn minutes to herself, a Pandora free.

“Time? I get that take all the time you need. I still have a few guys to look out.” Arat stands than brushing her hands on her jeans and shifting her weight. “Anyway, I gotta go, I’m helping with the guns, collecting them that is.”    

That is the last time Pandora opens the door for a while.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Notes:

And there we have it the war and over! This is going to leave Pandora where? Well, I know where kind of, so come back next time and find out! Leave me some comments if you feel like it! welcome to come of the new people I have been seeing!

Chapter 56: Repaint

A week alone in this god forsake room has given her time to move through all stages of grief. When Arat firsts told her Pandora had felt nothing but a wide gaping void in her chest and deep buzzing shame. Once Arat had left Pandora, she had convinced herself the other woman was lying. Negan could not have lost. That had to be wrong. It took another entire day, a visit from Arat and Frankie before the anger set in. That came blazing hot, it moved her to scream into pillows and workout until she passed out.

It took some time to move, to accept. Seeing Daryl made her so conflicted, her head would spin. Before Negan was here, so she had to stay here. Now, Negan was gone and she could. The end of the thought goes unfinished because it had been so long since she thought of what she could do without Negan. Everything she had become was about Negan. By the seventh day, Daryl had visited her every day for hours. It wasn't him that made her open the door. Still, Pandora opens the door after almost a week of isolation.

They have tried different people too. Frankie, Arat, Tara, and Rosita, she almost opened the door for the last two. Until finally on the morning of the tenth day it wasn’t Daryl’s voice behind the door, it was Rick’s.

“Pandora, I wanted to talk to you.” The sound of his voice has her moving towards the door, her hand rests on the lock but she doesn't move to open it. Rick sounds like he is leaning on the door, his voice so close to her. Its nails on a chalkboard, the sound of his pain making her skin crawl. “Shit Pandora, when this whole thing started it was just a trade. Kill some guys, get food.”

Pandora slowly undoes the first lock on the door. A simple chain slipped into the bolt. “Then they killed Denise, they killed Glen and Abraham. They took you and Daryl. It changed”

That’s right, she thinks as she undoes the second lock. She had been taken the morning after Negan had killed her friends. In sheer terror, she had watched the kindest man she had ever known, and her fiercest protector beaten to death while their loved ones screamed. She was hurt and bleeding and they shoved her into that truck.

“I wanted it to be over. I didn’t care who died, then I lost Carl. It changed everything again and…” There is a long silence that makes Pandora stop, her hand frozen on the door handle. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry for not protecting you better.”

Pandora is sobbing by the time she can get the door open, Rick is gone and standing there in front of her door is Daryl.

“Oh.”

She had gone to the sofa after that, and they were still here now. Pandora finds the good whiskey and pours them two glasses, three fingers high. Some things will take longer to change, she is sure of it.
Pandora is still crying Darly’s words knocking around in her head,

 

They talk about the past, Pandora isn’t sure she even remembers that far back, these things happened to an unfamiliar person, they happened to Pandora, and she is the Princess. Negan’s perfect little pet, his girl. Only he isn't here anymore, so she is just Pandora. Not quite the same Pandora that Daryl remembers, not the one she remembers either.

Despite the confusion in her head, Pandora listens to him, and since she has reached the beginning of the acceptance stage, she lets him hold her hand. Daryl tells her his story, right from the moment he left the Sanctuary. Jesus has helped him that day, he tells her. Jesus had said they needed to leave now, Daryl was so fucked up in the head he listened. He tells her about all the fights with Rick, with Dwight. Trying to kill Dwight, then fighting to save him so he could help get her back. Daryl tells her Maggie almost shoots him in the leg to stop him from going after her, and he thought for a second he might be able to run with a bullet hole.

“Pandora I tried everything. I tried to end it real quick by driving that truck through the gates and forcing him to surrender.” The pain in his voice makes her raw, she cannot bear to look at him through the tears in her own eyes. Daryl believes this. He thought he was trying to free her. It is hard to understand that from the things she saw on the other side of the wall.

Pandora takes a long sip of her whiskey, closes her eyes while it burns, and tries to think. “I watched us get free, Eugena had an idea, and I stood out there next to Negan. He protected me.”

She is silent again not finding the energy to speak, not wanting to find it. Daryl is still fluent in the language that is her brain and he keeps talking until he gets right to the battle. This is hard, too hard. Fuck this, let her go back to days ago when she didn’t have to think for herself. Negan did all the hard things, she stayed here. Now there was no more Negan, it was over and Rick had won. Pandora was, well she was free. That was the word Daryl used. This didn’t feel quite like freedom, it felt like terror.

“He’s handcuffed to a bed in the medical building at Hilltop, under guard all the damn time.”

Daryl has caught them up to the present day, filling in the parts of the story she had missed while she was locked away. They sit in the thick silence for a few more minutes, Pandora fills her glasses three fingers high again and drinks. Daryl only watches her, his drink sitting untouched on the table beside the sofa.

“I don’t even remember going into the little black room,” Pandora whispers into her glass. She starts here because this is where she first lost herself to him. Where Negan chipped away the first few pieces and slowly sanded down the rest. Pandora sits stiff-backed her legs are tucked under her hands gripping the glass. Her stomach is all twisted, and she wants to touch Daryl to make sure she is not dreaming. Nothing happens though, expect for her tightening her hold on her glass. “I thought I would die in there, and that was fine you know. Then there was light and Negan was saving me. He kept saving me and then,” She waves her hand around her, letting the end of the sentence die.

What words were there to explain her better than the place they are in now, in Negan’s room. Where she hadn’t left for days, not since Arat came and told her it was over. At first, she was refused to open the door, each time someone knocked she would lock herself in the bathroom until they were gone. Negan’s room always had locks. It was something she had been grateful for in the first few days.

“Whatever you did, it was to stay alive”

Pandora can feel the tears spilling onto her cheeks and with them, the flood of memory Daryl huddled in the back of the dark van telling her to stay alive. She was alive right. Is that what she is, alive? Sometimes she wasn't sure, maybe this had been death. Sometimes when she blacked out she hoped to wake up and Negan was back, but she was alone.

 

“I was alone.”

The sentence isn't even fully out before Daryl is crossing the sofa to her. He is so god damn warm, just like she remembers. Pandora goes stiff just for a second, then she snaps like a string pulled too tight and she melts into him. Does he still feel like home, she isn’t sure yet,

“Ah gonna make it up to you every second Ahm breathing.” Daryl wraps his arms around her, and she lets him. Sinking deeper into the circle of his hug. No matter what her head says, this feels right. More right than she had ever felt in Negan's arms.

“I might be dreaming,” Pandora whispers the words into his chest. Maybe her dreams have grown crueller in her time here. Now instead of dreaming of being in danger, she dreams of being safe. How cruel that would turn out to be.

“Yah ain’t dreaming your safe with me,”

The sound she lets out is a horrible choked sob, but she holds him tighter. This isn’t even like anything she had ever wished for, because she never thought this day would happen. Her rescue was something she never thought would happen while Negan was alive. Daryl holds her for a little longer, telling her all the things he is proud of her for. He is proud she is so strong, that she stayed safe, stayed alive. Pandora cries into his chest and tries to remember what it was like before she was a Princess.

Daryl spends the night in Negan’s old room with her, she takes the bed; he takes to the sofa. She doesn't sleep right away, can’t seem to bring herself to close her eyes just yet. Instead, she drinks more, until the room sways than she finally puts her head down. For a while, she thinks maybe Rick doesn’t understand what Negan wanted to do. Maybe if she showed him Negan’s notebook, he would understand. Then she remembered the things Daryl had told her, the parts of the story Negan didn't want her to know or remember.

Daryl doesn’t sleep that night at all, not willing to let himself close his eyes. Worried that if he does somehow when he opens them she will be gone, like that night at Hilltop. This still feels unreal. To have her here in the same room as he is. There was no threat of violence over them now, no incoming war to change his plans. There is nothing but the two of them learning how to be together again. As impossible as it might seem, he loves her more now. Loves watching her each moment the way she moves, talks, holds herself. He cannot take his eyes off here when she is near, so he sees it when she looks for Negan. It doesn't bother him he just reminds her that he is here now instead. Coming out of that box has been hard for him, and Pandora well she wasn’t like him.

When he steps in the separate bedroom to check on her, he stops frozen in the doorway. Pandora’s asleep curled in a ball on the bare mattress. The sheets, pillows, and blankets are in a pile wedged into the corner of the room. Daryl goes into the living room for a second and comes back with a thick blanket, he lays it over Pandora before heading to the couch. Leaving the pile of bedding untouched, let her decide what to do tomorrow.

They create new affirmations together the next morning at the kitchen table, Daryl holding her hands tightly. He never tells her Negan is the villain, just tells her what is true. Pandora cannot bring herself to leave this room, not yet. One step at a time. Even Daryl touching her like this feels like too much sometimes, but then she remembers Negan is never coming back and she finds her way back in Daryl’s arms.

Daryl tells her the story of the battle again, this time he tells her the smallest of details. When she sits in the kitchen staring at him, Daryl tells the story again, and again until she knows every word by heart.

“Negan is in prison, I’m safe, Daryl is safe, I can go home” Pandora whispers the words to herself in the bathroom mirror. Daryl was out there cleaning up their small breakfast. They were dividing the food evenly so everyone was eating the same. Before, she had only the best. She didn't mind though, another reminder Negan was gone.

Stepping into the shower, she pulls all the bandaged off and scrubs the glue from her skin. The wound from the bullet is healing nicely. Best let it get some air, she thinks to herself. The bruises around her throat are only getting darker, they will get worse before they get better. Dried and dressed, Pandora stands in front of the mirror, using the hair products she had brought with her. A reminder of Negan. Turning the bottle over in her hand, she shoves everything in the little bag it came in and zips it up.

Opening the bathroom door, she shoves the bag towards Daryl. “Can you make sure someone who needs this gets it.”

Pandora can see Daryl’s jaw working, but he remains silent. Then finally he opens his mouth, “Sure Pan.” Without breaking eye contact, he takes the bag from her. “Ahm gonna put in the hall for now ok?”

Pandora only nods and goes back to the sofa, hearing the door open and shut. In one day her routine is gone and the need for it makes her skin crawl. Daryl has only just shut the door again when she is barreling towards him.

“I’ll be back.” She isn't even wearing shoes, but it doesn't matter who needs shoes to work out anyway. Her hand on the door handle opens with a quick jerk of her wrist.

“Pandora where are you going?” Daryl almost has her but she is still quick.

Pandora does not have the brainpower to think of an answer, but it doesn't matter. When the door swings open Arat is standing there, hair pulled back under her bandana. Some things are consistent and Pandora will be forever grateful.

“Hey Princess, come to see if you want to throw a few punches with me.”

A grin splits her face, and she is ready to step outside when Arat points at her feet. Almost running Pandora finds the running shoes she had left in the room and is pulling them on. At the door and she can hear whisper snippets of conversation. Balancing her weight on her toes, she creeps as close to the door as she can get without being seen.

“Ah don’t care Yah can’t just show up here and take her whenever. Ah look out for her now.”

“ I don’t have to answer to you, I’m here to watch out for her like I promised.”

Daryl makes a strangled noise, “Promised to Negan.”

Arat laughs in his face. “I promised her. Daryl, you weren’t here, you didn't see her and Negan. I did and I didn’t do shit, I’m trying something different.”

“Ah can’t let her outta my sight.”

Tears prickle behind Pandora’s eyes; from where she hides in the other room. She doesn’t even know what she is crying about here. Maybe it’s how fast things have changed, knowing that it's for the better and still struggling. Arat was right about her, and Negan had been wrong. He hurt her and twisted her head so she didn't know what was up from down. Sometimes she still doesn’t know.

“So come then. You can watch her '' Arat whispers harshly as if it was the last thing she wanted. Arat finally shouts after some moments pass in silence. “Princess move your ass.”

“Coming!” Pandora quickly changes her shirt, making it look like that's what she had been doing with her time. There is a hairband on her wrist and Pandora ties her heavy hair into a bun as she walks towards them.

Daryl and Arat stand at the front door. They try to look normal, but she can read the stiffness in their bodies. She always watched Negan, so she got good at it. He licked his lips, and he was mad. If he held his body in a straight line he was tense. Daryl and Arat looked tense now. Bodies drawn up into tight lines, arms crossed over their chests.

“Ah thought Ah could watch?”

This isn't a question in the genuine sense of the words, if she says no there will be a reason she can’t go. So she nods as she heads out into the hall.

The gym is empty when they get there, which makes sense who else besides her crazy ass works out right now. Arats waste no time going for her, Pandora welcomes the sheer focus of hand to hand. Arat is faster than she remembers as she stumbles backwards just out of her reach but almost loses her footing in the process.

“If you fell with Simon it would have been over.” Arat doesn’t waste any time trying to take her down again.

That gets her blood pumping, the memory of that vile man with her hand on her. Pandora squats down just a bit to catch her breath. Arat takes the opening, but Pandora is quick this time jumping down into a split and kicking Arat’s legs from under her. There in the front of the room she can feel Daryl, he doesn't move to take any of the equipment. Instead, he stares at them, she can feel it even with her back turned.

In the moment she had spent thinking about him Arat was on her feet and aiming for her face. It’s an easy blow to dodge or it should have been if her concentration hadn’t been broken.

“Hey watch it!”

Daryl’s voice from the front of the room draws her in, and she turns her face right in Arat’s fist. The hit makes stars dance in her eyes, it throws her off balance and has her on the floor. She can’t be sure how long passes with her just laying there curled into a ball, but then Daryl\s face is in her vision.

“Oh right.” As if she had forgotten she stares at him, concerned swimming in his blue gaze. “Your hair got long huh?” Pandora holds a strand between her fingers twirling in. She’s dizzy vision still spinning just slightly, but it makes her giggle.

“Can you sit up?” Daryl is wrapping his arms around her pulling her up into a seat. He lets her lean against him though, keeping an arm around her.

“Good time to wrap it up.” Arat is standing near the door already and Pandora wonders how long she had been on the floor for. “See you around Princess.” Arat stops herself running her hand over her face. “Fuck I’m sorry I mean Pandora.”

Pandora only shrugs her shoulders. She tries to act like the nickname Princess doesn't bother her, in truth it makes her skin crawl. Reminders her of all the ways Negan had control, Pandora the sheltered Princess.

Siddiq was a doctor in the emergency room, he knew a little about a lot. He gives her a notebook and tells her to write everything out. At the end of each day her and Daryl read it together, Daryl corrects the things that were not right. He helped her get her facts straight. Sometimes she writes that she will go back in the box when he comes back, and Daryl tells her the story of the battle again.

On the fourth day of thinking about the box, she and Daryl go down to the room, armed with power tools. At the end of the hallway Pandora stops frozen, Daryl gets a few paces ahead of her before he realizes she isn't behind him. For a second she does not think she can do this. The last time she was in this hallway everything changed. She remembers losing her mind slowly in the darkness, dreaming of everyone she loves dying.

“Pan?” Daryl has his hand on his arm at a steady pressure. “Ah can do it, you can watch it from here.”

“No.” She whispers tears collect in her eyes but she looks up at him. “I have to do this.”

Daryl only nods and offers his free hand out to her, shifting the sledgehammer in her hand as Pandora takes it. They walk together. The fourth door on the left is closed, Pandora stands there for a few long seconds.

Reaching forward, she swings the door open and steps back, as if the shadows will reach out and get her. There is air displaced by the opening door; it tickles her face, and she realizes she is crying.

“Stand back for a second Pandora.” Daryl has a high-powered drill in his hands. He moves quickly, taking off the hinges and leaning the door on the wall.

Pandora watches silently as she cries. It is just a room. A normal little black room where she lost her mind. There was no one here to put her back in the darkness, and no one will ever go back to this room again. With her sledgehammer, Pandora wasted no time taking the walls down. What will happen to this room after she doesn't care about it, all she cares about is that it looks nothing like it when she was inside. She swings until her arms ache until she is covered in drywall dust.

“Pandora, come on now.” Daryl stops her when the palms of her hand have been rubbed raw and the walls are a patchwork of holes. He is careful to step over the chunks of drywall and exposed wires.

Pandora lets the hammer fall from her hands as she falls to her knees. “It’s just a room.” She whispers as she cries. As if her body has a mind of its own, her arms open and Daryl is holding her in seconds. “I don’t know if I can do this.” her voice is whispered into Daryl’s chest, his heart thumping in her ear.

“Ah promise it will be ok.” Daryl holds her a bit tighter when he speaks as if he sees the two sides of her mind.

That night they sit in the greenhouse-like she used to do with Negan. Pandora speaks her thoughts out loud for Daryl to hear them. Knowledge is power, or so Siddiq has said. The more Pandora knows, the more she can combat her twisted view of the world.

“He used to be a high school teacher. He taught his students about my story, my journey to the Olympics. He said when he saw me he wanted to know me, then he wanted to protect me. He said he was protecting everyone by making hard choices and doing the bad things. I never had to do anything. He took care of me.”

“He protected you, Pandora. Ah know that, and Ahm grateful.” They are sitting on the only sofa left, the one Negan made sure stayed here for her. Daryl tries to wrap his arm around her but she slides away just enough to give him the hint, he doesn’t try again.

There is a woman here named Lisa; she used to be a social worker; she knows a little Daryl and Pandora talk to her. It helps too. He understands how to help her; she understands what is happening to her.

“You are?” She asks, crying again. Daryl closes the distance again, and this time she doesn’t stop him. Her head is feeling far away again, she remembers the last time she could see him. When she was in the room with Negan’s pretty wives, Carl had been there too. It’s like she is swimming now trying for the surface but only sinking deeper into the blackness.

Daryl holds her tighter, and it helps to pull her up and out of her head. “Of course Ah am, Pandora, you are the most important thing to me and he protected you when I couldn’t”

“But it was wrong, right?” Pandora sobs her arms are wrapped around her middle, a vain attempt at holding herself together.

“Do you think it was?”

Hey had done this dance before. He never told her Negan was a villain. He let her come to that place herself; it helped. At first, she had raged against the idea he had been a villain. How could they even say that? It was Rick who brought the walkers. It was Rick who shot at her; it was Daryl that drove the truck inside. Negan had been trying to protect everyone. Daryl helped her fill in the story.

“I know it was.”

Chapter 57: Our Room

Notes:

I got tired of editing this so here you are. Not sure I'm going to keep writing but I had been sitting on this one for a while so I wanted to get it out there.

It had been a long day, Pandora should be sleeping. Instead, she is counting the insignificant dots on the ceiling above her head. To be fair, she had started with sheep, but somehow her head couldn’t make them the right shape or picture them making the right sound. 

How long had it been since she had even seen a sheep, what a strange thing for her mind to forget? Yet for the life of her, she could not remember the fucking sound a sheep would make. 

So she had settled on the dots, and at 200 Pandora decided maybe sleep would never come. This must be what it is like to fall asleep sober. Most nights before this she had been too drained by the events of the day to think about drinking herself to sleep. Today had been a slow day; not too many things happened to tire her out, thus counting dots on the ceiling. 

In the next room a few sounds float towards her, letting her know maybe she was not the only person sleep was avoiding. A light rustling of fabric, metal springs groaning inside cushions. Closing her eyes she tried to picture what Daryl might look like, his form curled on the small sofa in the other room. 

 There are walls between them, that is not how it used to be. Pandora used to be never far from his side, waking or sleeping and now. Now there is a wall between them and it makes her cry. It’s more than the physical walls it had taken days for her to feel comfortable with him again. To be around him without the panic of Negan killing him. 

Alone was something she was never good at being. Being alone meant her own thoughts wherein the only things she could listen to. The company kept her monsters at bay, sometimes the company didn't even matter. Just another body to make sure she was not alone. Before it had been Negan, making sure she was taken care of, now it’s Daryl again and they are learning their relationship all over again.

She didn't want to be alone now, so instead Pandora listens hard. Tries to pinpoint if Daryl is in fact moving when she is sure that he is she speaks. 

“Daryl?” She whispers his name, not too low, just loud enough to reach the other side of that fucking wall. 

In seconds he is standing at the door watching her, “Ya all right?” 

His voice is crisp, with no sound of sleep to be heard either. Pandora guesses she was right, he was awake just like she was. They might have been staring at the same ceiling, counting the same useless dots. 

“Can you come here?” Pandora shifts in the bed, making more room for him to the right of her. 

Never in her wildest dreams did she think this is where she would find herself. Inviting Daryl into Negan’s bed. Daryl might think the same because for a few long seconds of silence he doesn’t move. No, this wasn’t Negan’s bed anymore, this was her bed if she wanted it to be. “Please?”

They had been taking it slow, sleeping in different rooms for quite some time. Every day, it was hard and harder for her to be this far from him. As she painfully put her life back together, they had left their relationship in a few pieces. 

“I can’t sleep,” Pandora whispers once he has sat down on the bed next to her. The mattress dipped slightly under his weight and she cannot help but feel it the most normal she had felt in a long time. 

In the back of her head, she can hear Negan’s voice, telling her she was not being good. The nails in her palm calm the quiet panic rolling inside her. 

She thinks about all the time before this, before Negan, before the Sanctuary, when they were just them together. God, she had been so happy. It had been hard to remember that she had in fact been happy. In the early days of Negan's fall, her old memories were still hard to hold on to. Slipping through her fingers like sand.  

Now it's easier to remember.

“I used to have to drink to go to sleep. I don’t want to do that anymore.”  

Instead, she wants Daryl, the one thing that always seemed to keep the darkness away. Too much time seems to pass with him staring at her unmoving on the side of the bed.  

“It’s fine, please.” In the darkness, she can see the whites of his eyes as he blinks. 

“Ight, if yah sure.” The mattress dips lightly as he shifts down beside her, now laying rather than sitting. There is no lifting of blankets, he lays stiff beside her. 

She turns herself so slightly that maybe he won’t notice, but as he does, Daryl is always watching. He treats her like a wild animal sometimes, as if a slight movement could trigger a violent outburst.

“Pandora?” He says her name like it's a question and waits in the silence. How do you answer the question of your name? 

Instead, she moved closer. 

“I missed you so fucking much.” Pandora is crying again, wrapping her arms around her middle and pressing herself in tighter. She tried to remember all the times before this, them together in a bed. Those days are hard to recall. Her time here is at the front of her head. 

“Ah missed you too. Everything is going to be ok now, Ah promise.” 

Pandora laughs through her tears, her intake of breath sounding like a hiccup. “How can you say that?” 

“Because Negan’s gone. He will stay gone and Ah will stay here.” Daryl is holding her now, crushing her against his chest. He breathes into her hair and his heartbeat sounds in her head. “Ah swear to god Pandora, everything is different now.” 

She wants to say something, but her chest aches too much for her to open her mouth. Instead, she presses her head against his chest, listening to his heart again. Daryl draws small circles on the small of her back, Pandora shivers but doesn’t ask him to stop. 

“Tell me again how you ended it.” 

He does, Daryl always does as she asks. While Daryl is explaining what Rick is trying to do here Pandora falls asleep. 

The next day she works out without Arat, but Daryl comes to watch her. Her head isn’t such a mess today, at least not at the moment. Pandora lifts weights, pushes up and crunches until Daryl makes a noise by the door. 

Pandora stops and turns to him, “The day before the last battle I came here. I worked out until I vomited and passed out.” 

Daryl steps up towards her, one hand on her elbow, “Then maybe it’s time to stop today, huh?” 

Pandora does as he asks because she can find better ways to cope now. They go back to their room; she has stopped calling in Negan’s room, it’s been two weeks. In her head, she calls it their room, hers and Daryl. Not out loud, not yet. 

The afternoon finds them both in the greenhouse on the roof. They have brought more supplies from the other communities, and the keepers of the greenhouse are already putting it to excellent use. 

Everything around her seems more alive now, the people and even the place itself. The windows have all been replaced with clear glass, sunlight streams in everywhere washing the cold stone in warm bright light. The people are more alive too, chatting and laughing fills the hallways. It had never sounded like that before. Everyone is more alive, people who pass her nod their heads slightly in acknowledgement. Some of the men who used to follow her around stop her in the hallways, ask her if she needs anything, tell her she only needs to ask. 

Today Pandora is helping the people in the greenhouse separating small seedlings from each other and replanting them. When they had come here Daryl had left her with the plants joining Rick and Michonne who were meeting there as well. She was surprised to see Hunter there giving directions and answering questions. 

When Daryl steps away to speak to some higher-ups Pandora finds herself next to Hunter. There were a few people up there she had spoken to a few times. Rick who saw her more than once and Michonne who had joined him. 

It had been hard to see Rick, harder than Daryl in a different way. Rick was the one who had given orders that could have killed her. They had talked about this, Pandora explaining through breathless tears how Negan had saved her again and again. How he told her that Rick didn’t care if she lived or died anymore she was just a saviour to them. Rick sat through it all the pain on her face coming in waves, there was nothing he could say to explain what he had done. Instead, he promised to do better, to keep her safe and everyone here was no more us and them there was just us. 

“Hey there, Pandora.” Hunter grins at her, an unfamiliar person than the one she knew as her shadow. Now the young man smiles brightly, showing all his teeth as he looks at her. His face is spotted with dirt, fingers caked in rich dark soil. He looks happy, happier than she ever remembers seeing him.

“Pandora, Pandora.” He speaks her name a few times, testing it out in his mouth, handing her another small pot for her plant. “I always hated your nickname. Feels good to say, Pandora.”

“Thank you for everything,” Pandora whispers, adding more soil to the little pot she had. She was to separate all the tomato plants. Give them enough room and they will grow huge. Or at least that's what Hunter told her when she started.  

“Eh watching out for you was the best part of my job. If you ever need anything I’m still here, I’m still Arat’s man.” Hunter looks at her, his head tilted to the side. It’s nice to know she had someone in her corner, someone who isn't Daryl, maybe she needs her things sometimes. 

“I’ll remember that.” 

“Your boyfriend is a good fit for a leader of this place.” Hunter is passing her another pot, this one larger, full of tiny tomato stocks shooting up from the ground. 

Pandora has to turn to him to grab it and then she sees Daryl. He is sitting on the one sofa Arat is there, with Laura, Rick, Michonne and Dwight. They speak all leaned over sheets of paper. She thinks some of them must be from hers and Daryl's room. 

She does not correct Hunter’s use of the word boyfriend, only because there is nothing better to use. They had been that before all of this before Negan broke her. “Ya, he is.” 

This place had been left without a leader in a flash, and Daryl has seamlessly slipped into the role. The motive is unclear, she never asked him why he feels responsible for this place. Maybe it is because of her because she chooses to be here right now and he will go wherever she is. 

The door on the other side of the greenhouse opens. Pandora lifts her head to watch, still unsure of other people. Her gut twists painfully as she stares at Tara, whose mouth is open just an inch. 

Everything stops at that moment and Pandora is back on that strip of train tracks. Denise’s body falling an arrow in her eyes rendering her lifeless. Tara sees her and she knows that the flash of emotion over Tara's face has Pandora's blood running cold.

Spinning on her heels Pandora side steps around Hunter avoiding his questions of what was wrong. Instead, she heads for the back door, flings it open and plunges down the stair into darkness. In the distance, there is the sound of rush footsteps and maybe someone calling her name, Pandora is already gone.

She cannot see Tara, she cannot look Tara in the eyes after what happened. How could anyone understand what she had been through, how could anyone but Daryl not judge her? Negan and his men had killed Denise and Pandora became one of them, understanding if more people needed to die. 

In the last few weeks, she had been paying attention to the inside of this building. So now she moved with confidence, down one flight of the steps out into the hall, take a right to another hall, first door on the right. There is no one standing at the door, and for once she is so grateful. Pandora slips in the locks on the door behind her then move deeper into the room into the bedroom. 

There the panic that had been keeping her going breaks, and she drops to her knees on the floor after shutting the door behind her. How was she supposed to do this, go back to a life she was ready to burn because a man told her it needed to be like this? He had killed her people, at one point he might have killed her. Sobbing, Pandora presses into the bullet hole in her side, the pain shoots up her back and for a second the world is bright again. The brightness only lasts for a moment then she has crumpled again. 

Outside she can hear someone knocking on the door, they call her name, begging her to open it. It’s Daryl, it takes her a few moments to fully process his voice. Under his voice she heard the tendrils of panic, maybe it’s because the first time she locked this door she did not come out for ten days.

 She doesn't want that again, no she wants Daryl. With careful steps, she makes her way to the door. Stiff fingers work at the locks she had locked them all, just like before. 

Daryl has the door open the second she opens the last lock. The next few moments are a hurried blur of movement. He shuts the door and reaches for her; She goes to his knees giving in as she cries. Daryl is always quick; he supports her while lowering her to the floor in his lap.

“Hush now, Ah got yah, hush.” He whispers in her hair, arms wrapped around her frame as she trembles. 

Daryl had talked to everyone who had been with her while she was here. The women Arat her guards, even Dwight, so he knew what happened here. Every time he looks at her he is disgusted with himself, it doesn't matter that he couldn't have gotten to her. Seeing her like he’s sobbing in his arms makes him wish he would have tried. 

“I saw Tara,” Pandora whispers to him after a long stretch of silence, face hidden in his chest. “I panicked.” 

He kicks himself mentally for not keeping a better eye on the door since they had all agreed to take things slow. Pandora had seen only a handful of people, and that had been hard enough. He should have known seeing anyone else would send her spinning.

“It’s ok,” Daryl shifts just a fraction, leaning back to look at her. “She knows.” 

But the woman in his arms is sitting up straighter, she pulls away from him and stares, brown eyes sparkling with intensity and determination. 

“Can you get her, please?” 

“Pandora Ah..” He trailed off, running his hand over his chin. It does not escape him; they are still on the floor in the middle of the room. He also doesn’t miss that she is still trembling in his arms. Pandora does not seem to notice at all. “Come sit first.” Daryl pulls her up, taking her into the small living room and onto the sofa. 

“I have to talk to her.” Pandora allows him to lead her there and seat her on the right. There is something about the way she gives into him that makes his skin crawl. He would never take advantage, but Negan had. 

Pandora had become more playable since her time with Negan. Daryl found nothing was a fight anymore she mostly did whatever he said or suggested. It bothered him, she had been so damn headstrong before all of this. In the beginning he had asked her what she wanted but her eyes had been blank unable to answer the question. It had gotten better slowly she argued with him more and he had never been so god damn happy for it. 

She will not be swayed, not now. Daryl has done this dance with her many times in the before times, he knew. “Fine, but write while I’m gone get it out.” 

Part of him is overjoyed with it, seeing her stand up to him. Pandora takes the notebook from him smoothing it out her lap. Daryl turns and heads for the door, he doesn’t want to leave but she won't take no for an answer. 

Outside the door he finds two young men standing to the right of the door, Arat between them, when she shuts the door they all turn to look at him. 

“She let you in there? Fuck, good.” Arat is shaking her head. “I thought we would have to wait another week to see her.” 

Daryl is still not sure what to make of this woman and the care she seems to have for Pandora, his Pandora. Or not his maybe their Pandora, Arat cared about what happened to her. 

“Yah naw she let me, she wants um she wants to see someone,” Daryl mutters he makes a move as if he is going to brush the hair from his eyes but doesn’t instead he just looks at them. 

“I can have Rob stand out here, he used to do that before.” Arat jerks her head to the young man with the darker hair as he nods steps closer to the door.  

A lifetime ago Daryl has been this place and held captive by these men. Not these exactly but men just like them. He had been kept here like an animal, chained and in the dark. 

Pandora had been in the dark once too, but it had been different. Now she was here kept in this room with her guards giving her anything she wants. It was hard for Daryl to understand. 

“Yah ok Ah’ll be back then.” Daryl heads down the hall, takes a few flights of steps to the roof. 

Everyone is still there, Tara is in the spot he left behind. The conversation stops when he comes up to the table. 

“Hey Daryl, I’m sorry I wasn’t thinking. I know what you said but everyone else was up here. I just forgot.” Tara is rambling, rubbing her palms on her jeans, eyes darting frantically. 

Daryl shakes his head, “Naw It’s ok she um she wants to see you.” 

He can’t understand why Pandora needs it to happen now.  The look on her face said he would not sway her. This was not how he wanted to do this, this was not what they had agreed upon. 

Even with everything going on Rick, Daryl, and Michonne had talked about how to help her. Once she had finally opened the door, they decided they would ease her way back into the group. 

It had taken her so long to come out; they were worried she would relapse again. So far Pandora had only seen the three of them. Rick had come around a few times and talked to her. Michonne had done the same, talking to her a little bit telling her all the same things Daryl had been telling her. 

Now she wants to see Tara and he isn't sure how this is going to go. 

“Are you sure?” Tara asks getting up from the seat that used to be his. 

“She’s doing a lot better,” Michonne adds, taking her eyes from the papers in front of them. “I just saw her the other day working out.” 

Tara only nods, “Ok, let’s go then.” 

Pandora has filled two pages of her notebook as she sits. She writes out that Negan is gone, Denise is dead, Tara is back. Other things fill the pages to a quick line of how Negan will kill Tara now too because she helps them lead. That is hidden between the things she knows. 

‘Negan will kill everyone I love’ That is the last sentence she gets out before there is a knock on her door. 

“Hey, Pandora, did you change your mind?” Rob sticks his head in the door. 

“No,” She shakes her head, shutting the notebook in her lap. She is going to have to read this later with Daryl, but that is a problem she can deal with later. “They can come in.” 

A moment later Daryl comes in Tara is behind him, tight-lipped and silent. 

Pandora’s brain shuts down when she sees the other women. She had not thought this through and now that the other woman was staring at her Pandora isn't sure what to do. 

“Hey, Pandora.” Tara takes a chair from the kitchen and sits in front of her. “I’m sorry I scared you.” 

Daryl comes to sit beside her and a hand on her knees brings her spinning back into the moment. A glance in at him makes a smile tug on her lips. Some things never change, how does he always know just what she needs. 

Pandora is still at a loss for words for a long moment until she turns away from Daryl and back to be Tara. 

“It’s ok,” She gets out. “I just wasn’t expecting to see you.” 

Tara smiles a little, “It’s good to see you.” 

Pandora remembers the last day they saw each other. The home Tara had shared with Denise had been so warm, always a welcome place for her. Denise's death was when everything changed, the rug was pulled out under her feet after that. 

“Tara, I,” 

Pandora isn't sure where to start if she is really honest with herself. The moment the first words come out her voice is sucked back into the black hole of her chest. Does she say she is sorry? And what is she even sorry for? That she didn’t kill Dwight? 

What would the end of the war even look like if she had killed him? How would all of this be different? That was not something she wanted to let her mind wander too so instead she shakes her head sharply. 

A hand on top of her brings her back to the moment like a rope pulling her in. “Pandora I am so glad your home. Or with us, I’m glad you're with us now.” 

Tara seems as nervous as she is, stammering over her choice of words. She wonders if this is how it's going to be with everyone learning how to live with her again. No one has even mentioned the things she did while she was with Negan. She had sold out her family more times than she could count. 

“I’m sorry for everything,” Pandora finally whispers but her eyes stay fixed on their hands. She is gripping Tara now worried that if she lets go the other woman is going to vanish right there before her eyes. “ I helped him, I told him about Dwight, I told him about the secret way out of Hilltop, I told him who to kill.” 

Her voice has been speeding up gaining a shrill pitch that showed her growing panic. She didn't get another sentence out because Tara was holding her so tightly to her chest that she couldn't speak if she wanted to. Then panic ebbs away than in the darkness behind her lids she breathes deeply taking in the scent of Tara. 

She thought Tara was dead, and now she is here holding her and the tension is leaking from her muscles leaving her a boneless heap. 

“It was war Pandora what you did make sure you made it out alive, we always just wanted you alive.” 

Pandora cries and Tara holds her even tighter. 

Notes:

Like I said maybe this is the last chapter maybe not? I don't know I have more written in my head but this girl has pandemic fatigue life is tiring ya'll so who knows.

Chapter 58: Note

Did a whole trip around the sun on this burning rock and here I am again. I'm thinking of dusting this thing off again am I screaming into the void?

Let me know if there is anyone still out there and maybe anything you want to see happen.

Chapter 59: Sometimes all we can do is start over Chp 57 redo

Notes:

I did a thing. Meaning I edited this chapter dusted off the show and cracked open chapter 58. So ya.

It had been a long day, and Pandora should have been sleeping. Instead, she counted the insignificant dots on the ceiling above her head. To be fair, she had started with sheep, but somehow her mind couldn't shape them correctly or imagine their sounds. So she gave up and shifted her focus to the dots above her.

How long had it been since she'd even seen sheep? Cows, yes, she had seen some at the Sanctuary before, but sheep? Not a single memory came to mind. It was a strange thing for her mind to forget. Yet, for the life of her, she couldn't recall the sound a sheep made or even how their feet looked.

So she settled on counting the dots, and when she reached 200, Pandora decided that sleep might never come. This must be what it's like to fall asleep sober. Most nights before this, she had been too drained by the day's events to think about drinking herself to sleep. Today had been slow; not much had happened to tire her out, hence counting dots on the ceiling.

In the next room, some sounds caught her attention, indicating that perhaps she wasn't the only one sleep was eluding. There was a light rustling of fabric, the groaning of metal springs within cushions. Closing her eyes, she tried to picture what Daryl might look like, curled up on the small sofa in the other room.

There were walls between them now, but it hadn't always been that way. Pandora used to be never far from his side, awake or asleep. Now there was a wall between them, and it infuriated her. It wasn't just physical walls; it had taken days for her to feel comfortable around him again, to be near him without the panic of Negan killing him.

Being alone was something she had never been good at. Being alone meant listening to her own thoughts, and company kept her monsters at bay, sometimes without any regard for the company itself. Before it had been Negan, making sure she was taken care of, and now it was Daryl again. They were learning their relationship all over again.

She didn't want to be alone now, so instead, Pandora listened intently, trying to discern if Daryl was moving. She was certain he was speaking.

"Daryl?" She whispered his name, not too softly, just loud enough to reach the other side of that wall.

In seconds, he was standing at the door, watching her. "You alright?"

His voice was clear, devoid of any hint of sleep. Pandora guessed she was right; he was awake, just like she was. They might have been staring at the same ceiling, counting the same useless dots.

"Can you come here?" Pandora shifted in bed, making room for him to sit beside her.

Never in her wildest dreams did she imagine finding herself in this situation, inviting Daryl into Negan's bed. Daryl might have been thinking the same because, for a few long seconds of silence, he didn't move. No, this wasn't Negan's bed anymore; it was her bed if she wanted it to be. "Please?"

They had been taking it slow, sleeping in different rooms for quite some time. Every day, it became harder for her to be this far from him. As she painfully put her life back together, they had left their relationship in a few pieces.

"I can't sleep," Pandora whispered once he sat down on the bed beside her. The mattress dipped slightly under his weight, and she couldn't help but feel it was the most normal she had felt in a long time.

In the back of her head, she could hear Negan's voice, telling her she wasn't being good. The nails in her palm calmed the quiet panic rolling inside her.

She thought about all the time before this, before Negan, before the Sanctuary when it was just the two of them together. God, she had been so happy. It had been hard to remember that happiness. In the early days of Negan's fall, her old memories were still hard to hold onto, slipping through her fingers like sand.

Now it was easier to remember.

"I used to have to drink to go to sleep. I don't want to do that anymore."

Instead, she wanted Daryl, the one thing that always seemed to keep the darkness away. Too much time seemed to pass with him just staring at her, unmoving on the side of the bed.

"It's fine, please." In the darkness, she could see the whites of his eyes as he blinked.

"Ight, if yah sure." The mattress dipped lightly as he shifted down beside her, now lying rather than sitting. There was no lifting of blankets; he lay stiff beside her.

She turned herself slightly, hoping maybe he wouldn't notice. But Daryl was always watching. He treated her like a wild animal sometimes, as if the slightest movement could trigger a violent outburst.

"Pandora?" He said her name like it was a question and waited in silence. How do you answer the question of your own name?

Instead, she moved closer.

"I missed you so fucking much." Pandora was crying again, wrapping her arms around herself and pressing even tighter. She tried to remember all the times before this, before they were together in bed. Those days were hard to recall; her time here was at the forefront of her mind.

"Ah missed you too. Everything is going to be okay now, Ah promise."

Pandora chuckled through her tears, her breath catching like a hiccup. "How can you say that?"

"Because Negan's gone. He will stay gone, and Ah will stay here." Daryl held her close, his heartbeat resonating in her ears as he whispered into her hair. "Ah swear to god, Pandora, everything is different now."

She wanted to say something, but the ache in her chest was too much for words. Instead, she pressed her head against his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. Daryl traced gentle circles on the small of her back, and Pandora shivered but didn't ask him to stop.

"Tell me again how you ended it."

Daryl always did as she asked, explaining what Rick was trying to accomplish as Pandora drifted into sleep.

The following day, she worked out without Arat, but Daryl came to watch her. Her mind was less clouded today, at least for the moment. Pandora lifted weights, did push-ups, and crunches, until Daryl made a sound near the door.

Pandora stopped and turned to him. "The day before the last battle, I came here. I worked out until I vomited and passed out."

Daryl stepped closer, his hand on her elbow. "Then maybe it's time to stop today, huh?"

Pandora agreed because she had found better ways to cope now. They returned to their room, no longer referred to as Negan's room; it had been two weeks. In her thoughts, she called it "their" room, hers and Daryl's, although she hadn't said it out loud yet.

In the afternoon, they found themselves in the greenhouse on the roof, where they had brought supplies from other communities. The greenhouse was flourishing, just like everything else around her. Clear glass windows replaced the old ones, letting in warm, bright light. People were more alive too, chatting and laughing in the hallways, a stark contrast to the past.

Today, Pandora was helping with the seedlings in the greenhouse, and Hunter was there, giving directions and answering questions. Hunter seemed happier than she had ever seen him, covered in dirt and smiling. Far from the silent sentinel she had grown used to.

"Thank you for everything," Pandora whispered as she continued to work on transplanting tomato seedlings.

"Eh, watching out for you was the best part of my job. If you ever need anything, I'm still here, Arat's man."

"I'll remember that."

"Your boyfriend is a good fit for a leader of this place," Hunter commented as he handed her another pot of seedlings.

Pandora had to turn towards Hunter to retrieve the object he was offering, but then her gaze fell on Daryl. He was seated on a sofa alongside Arat, Laura, Rick, Michonne, and Dwight, all leaning over sheets of paper spread before them. Some of those sheets appeared to be from her and Daryl's room.

Hunter had referred to Daryl as her boyfriend, a term she didn't correct because there was no better label to use. They had been that way before everything happened before Negan shattered her.

"Yeah, he is," she replied.

This place had been left without a leader in the blink of an eye, and Daryl had effortlessly stepped into the role. She wondered about his motives, why he felt responsible for this place. Maybe it was because of her, because she had chosen to be here now, and he would follow her anywhere.

The door on the opposite side of the greenhouse swung open, drawing Pandora's attention. She remained uncertain around other people, her gut twisting painfully as she locked eyes with Tara. Tara's mouth opened slightly, and everything came to a halt. Pandora was transported back to that moment on the train tracks, where Denise's life had been abruptly extinguished by an arrow.

Tara saw her, and Pandora could feel the emotions flashing across Tara's face, sending a shiver down her spine.

Without a word, Pandora swiftly sidestepped around Hunter, avoiding his questions about what was wrong. She made her way to the back door, flung it open, and raced down the stairs into the darkness. In the distance, she could hear the sound of hurried footsteps and perhaps someone calling her name, but Pandora was already gone.

She couldn't face Tara, couldn't meet her eyes after what had transpired. How could anyone understand what she had been through? How could anyone, except for Daryl, refrain from judging her? She had aided Negan and his men in killing her own people, believing that more people might have to die for her own survival.

Over the past few weeks, she had been studying the layout of this building. So now, she moved with confidence, descending one flight of stairs, navigating through a hall, and entering the first door on the right. No one was standing at the door, and she felt a wave of gratitude. Pandora stepped inside, locking the door behind her, and then proceeded into the bedroom.

It was there that the panic she had been holding at bay finally broke free. She sank to her knees on the floor, sobbing uncontrollably. How was she supposed to return to a life she had been ready to burn, simply because a man had dictated it? He had killed her friends, and at one point, he might have killed her. She pressed into the bullet wound in her side, feeling the pain radiate up her back, and for a brief moment, the world seemed bright again. But the brightness was fleeting, and she crumpled once more.

Outside, someone knocked on the door, calling her name, pleading for her to open it. It was Daryl. It took her a moment to fully process his voice. Beneath the sound of his voice, she sensed the tendrils of panic creeping in. Perhaps it was because the last time she had locked this door, she hadn't emerged for ten days. She didn't want that isolation again; no, she wanted Daryl.

With trembling fingers, she worked at the locks she had secured, just as she had done before. Daryl had the door open the moment she released the final lock. The next few moments blurred into a rush of movement. He closed the door behind them and reached for her, guiding her down to the floor in his arms.

"Hush now, I've got you. Hush," he whispered into her hair, his arms wrapped securely around her as she trembled.

Daryl had spoken to everyone who had been with her during her time here. The women at her guard, even Dwight, had shared their accounts. Every time he looked at her, he was filled with self-disgust, regardless of the fact that he couldn't have reached her. Seeing her now, sobbing in his arms, made him wish he had tried harder.

"I saw Tara," Pandora whispered to him after a long silence, her face still buried in his chest. "I panicked."

He mentally chastised himself for not keeping a closer eye on the door, even though they had all agreed to take things slow. Pandora had only encountered a handful of people, and that had been challenging enough. He should have known that seeing anyone else would send her spiralling.

"It's okay," Daryl reassured her, shifting just slightly and leaning back to meet her gaze. "She knows."

Pandora sat up straighter, pulling away from him and fixing her intense, determined brown eyes on his.

"Can you get her, please?"

Daryl hesitated, running a hand over his chin. He realized that they were still on the floor in the middle of the room, and that Pandora was still trembling in his arms.
"First, come sit down," Daryl urged, helping her to her feet and leading her to the small living room, where he settled her on the sofa. "We'll talk, and then I'll see what I can do."

Pandora allowed him to guide her there and sit her on the right side of the sofa. There was something about the way she yielded to him that made his skin crawl. He was determined to protect her, not only from this world but also from the lingering shadows of her past.

Outside the door, Daryl faced two young men and Arat, who were waiting for news. They were concerned about Pandora's well-being.

"She let you in there? Good," Arat said. "I thought we would have to wait another week to see her."

Daryl wasn't sure what to make of Arat's concern for Pandora, but he appreciated it. He knew that these people had held him captive before, but things were different now.

Daryl muttered, his voice barely above a whisper, "Yeah, she let me in. She wants... she wants to see someone." He moved as if to push the hair from his eyes, but his hand hesitated, and he simply stared at them.

"I can have Rob stand out here, he used to do that before," Arat offered, her head nodding towards the young man with darker hair. He stepped closer to the door, ready to take up the post.

It felt like a lifetime ago when Daryl had been in this very place, held captive by a group of men who were not too different from the ones they now faced. He had endured captivity like an animal, chained and kept in the darkness.

Pandora had also experienced her share of darkness, but her current situation was different. Here she was, confined to this room, with her guards catering to her every desire. It was challenging for Daryl to comprehend how things had changed so dramatically.

"Yeah, okay, I'll be back then," Daryl said as he left them and headed for the roof.

On the roof, he found Tara, who had taken his seat. The conversation stopped as he approached, and Tara apologized for not thinking before coming to see Pandora.

"It's okay," Daryl assured her. "She wants to see you."

Daryl couldn't understand why Pandora wanted to see Tara right now. Amidst the chaos surrounding them, Rick, Daryl, and Michonne had deliberated on how best to assist Pandora. After she finally emerged from her self-imposed isolation, they had decided to reintegrate her gradually into the group. It had taken her a considerable amount of time to take that step, and they were apprehensive about any potential setbacks.

So far, Pandora had interacted solely with the three of them. Rick had visited her on several occasions, and Michonne had also attempted to connect with her, repeating the same comforting words Daryl had been conveying. However, Pandora now expressed her desire to see Tara, leaving Daryl uncertain about how this encounter would unfold.

"Are you sure about this?" Tara inquired, rising from the seat that used to be Daryl's.

"She's been doing better," Michonne chimed in, momentarily diverting her attention from the paperwork before her. "I saw her just the other day, working out."

Tara nodded. "Alright, let's go then."

Inside her room, Pandora had filled two pages of her notebook. She detailed Negan's departure, Denise's tragic demise, and Tara's return. Hidden amidst these entries was a fleeting fear that Negan might now target Tara for assisting them in leadership.

"'Negan will kill everyone I love,'" Pandora wrote, her trembling hand scrawling the last sentence before there was a knock on her door.

"Hey, Pandora, did you change your mind?" Rob's voice seeped through the doorway.

"No," Pandora responded, shaking her head as she closed her notebook in her lap. She knew she'd have to revisit these words with Daryl later, but for now, that was a problem she could postpone. "They can come in."

Daryl entered first, followed by Tara, her expression tight and her words held in silence. Pandora's mind went blank when she saw the other woman. She hadn't fully considered the impact of this meeting, and now she felt unsure of how to proceed.

"Hey, Pandora," Tara greeted her warmly, pulling a chair from the kitchen and sitting in front of her. "I'm sorry if I startled you."

Daryl came to sit beside Pandora, his hand resting on her knee, grounding her in the present moment. A glance at him elicited a small smile. Some things remained constant—Daryl always seemed to know just what she needed.

Pandora struggled to find her voice, hesitating for an extended moment before turning her attention from Daryl back to Tara. "It's okay," she managed to say. "I just wasn't expecting to see you."

Tara offered a gentle smile. "It's good to see you."

Pandora's thoughts drifted back to their last encounter, remembering the warmth of Tara's home and the kindness she had always shown. But everything had changed after Denise's death, leaving Pandora uncertain about where to begin.

"Tara, I..." Pandora started, unsure of how to navigate this conversation. Her voice faltered, swallowed by the heavy weight of her emotions. Should she apologize? And what exactly was she apologizing for? That she hadn't killed Dwight?

Pandora couldn't help but wonder how different everything might have been if she had taken that life. She shook her head vigorously, pushing away thoughts of alternate outcomes.

A comforting touch on her hand drew her back to the present, like a lifeline pulling her from the depths of her inner turmoil. "Pandora, I'm so glad you're back. Or, with us. I'm just glad you're here," Tara said, her voice wavering as she, too, struggled to find the right words.

Pandora's panic subsided, her grip on Tara's hand growing tighter, as if she feared Tara might disappear if she let go. "I'm sorry for everything," Pandora finally whispered, her eyes fixed on their intertwined hands. She confessed her involvement in Negan's schemes—betraying Dwight, revealing the secret escape route at Hilltop, and even providing names for Negan to target.

As she spoke, her voice quickened and took on a panicked tone, her emotions threatening to overwhelm her once again. Tara held her so tightly that Pandora couldn't continue speaking. Gradually, the panic ebbed away, and in the comforting darkness of Tara's embrace, Pandora took deep, steadying breaths, savoring the scent of Tara's presence.

Tears streamed down her face as she buried her face against Tara's chest, her body relaxing as the tension melted away. "It was war, Pandora. What you did was ensure your own survival. All we ever wanted was for you to stay alive," Tara reassured her, her embrace providing the solace Pandora so desperately needed.

Pandora continued to cry, and Tara held her even tighter, offering the support and understanding that had been absent from her life for far too long.

Notes:

Chapter 58 is actually coming because why? Who knows the world is a strange place. Let's have some fun. anything you want to see?

Chapter 60: Not all walls feel safe

Notes:

New chapter alert. I have no plan like literally none, I opened this up to write and just see what happens so ya.

The next few days are, well, just average. Pandora and Daryl wake up together now, in the bed she used to be kept in by Negan. When they wake up, she goes to find Arat and Daryl to oversee the start of the day. It’s a routine she wanted so badly weeks ago, yet it now chafes at her like ropes. 

 

The normalcy settles like an itch under Pandora’s skin. Tensions inside are still high, trying to plan who’s going to lead these people now. The air seems too oppressive, too charged. For the first time in a while, she missed the greenery that surrounded Alexandria. 

 

The need to see the open sky has been growing day by day. Perhaps it was because she still wasn’t sleeping through the night. The day after she saw Tara, she and Daryl had gone through her notebook. She had watched as his face tightened at the last line. Pandora had even attempted to grab the book from him before he could read it. 

 

Not her finest moment.

 

They had talked through why Negan couldn’t kill any of them. Daryl tried to explain where he was right now. They had taken to the newly secured Alexandria and were holding him in a cell. The inside of the walls was hard to picture, her last image was nothing but homes on fire. 

 

It was hard for her to picture him behind bars. In her head, Negan was still leaving her in bed tangled in his sheets. To think of him now behind bars was hard; it had been keeping her up at night. 

 

She dreams about him coming back, walking back into this room in the dead of night like last time. That scene had been what kept her up last night because what if Negan came back when she closed her eyes.

 

Maybe that's why she feels like crawling out of her skin as she helps sort through resources. Strangers stand on either side of her, sorting through collected crates of items. They had been working on taking inventory of all the items stashed away in this building.

Since they parted ways this morning, she hadn’t seen Daryl keeping this place running. He’s above them even now on the steps with his head close to Rick as they speak in hushed voices. 

 

If she could get outside for only a moment, and see the sky breathe, then it would be easier. Easier to do just everything. Shame flares, but it's not enough to stop her. Through her lashes, she glances up at the men above her still wrapped in conversation.

 

Heart twisting painfully, she slowly lowers her hands from the bin. It’s almost too easy for Pandora to take a few long steps backward into the shadows. Then she’s gone, down a darkened hall. 

 

The day they cleared the dead from the doors they had been sitting on a flat, clear, concrete slab. Suddenly, the only thing Pandora wants is to see the sky from there. So there she heads, the map in her head could be more complete, but she gets where she needs to go. 

 

To her delight, the space has been filled with potted plants, nothing is growing here yet but the air smells of rich soil. Heading to the edge, she lets her legs dangle, the sun beating down on the exposed skin it can find. It's as if she can breathe suddenly, like her lungs have all the space in the sky to expand. 

 

Laying back, Pandora throws her arm over to shield her eyes from the sun. It’s then that a bone-deep weariness takes over her. It's almost shocking how suddenly heavy all of her limbs feel lying there on the sun-baked concrete. So under the open sky, she falls asleep. 

 

“They can’t lead themselves, not yet anyway.” Rick shook his head, hand running over his beard. He had been in and out over the last month, helping get the Sanctuary back on its feet. Things had settled somewhat since the end of the war, but Rick was right, the Saviours could not lead themselves. 

 

“Naw, they ain’t ready for that.” But I know you can’t stay. Those words didn't make it past Daryl’s lips; they didn't need to be said, Rick couldn’t stay. Alexandria has just barely been made safe again, the work was never-ending.

 

For long moments, time ticked between them in silence, both men watching the moving bodies below them. It's then Daryl notices Pandora isn't where he had last seen her. The space she had been sorting through bins was now empty. 

 

“You know this doesn’t have to be your problem, not now.” Rick's voice is softer now as if he too can see what Daryl has seen, the absence of Pandora. 

 

He had told them both not long after she had opened their god's forsaken door that they could both leave this place and never look back if they wanted. Pandora had only nodded and asked where Arat was, and that was the end of it. 

 

“She wants to stay, why?” Daryl shrugs in answer to Rick’s question. He does another pass of the main floor below them, but still no sign of her 

 

“I gotta go,”  he said curtly, turning to the steps. 

 

There’s a turning feeling in his gut when he makes his way down the metal steps to the ground floor. Pandora has not slept through the night in a week, it was showing. She has tried to hide it, of course, laying there so still in the dead of night. By the third day, Daryl would catch her staring off with that blank expression on her face. 

 

And now he couldn’t find her, fuck. At the far end of the line of people, Tara was there with a clipboard in hand as always. She looked up the moment Daryl saw her, she must have seen something on his face because before he said anything, she was coming towards him. 

 

“Pandora was just here.” Daryl huffs, running a hand through his hair. 

 

“She aint been sleeping.” 

 

There was always an uncurrent of worry when it came to Pandora; it was hard to ignore. Given the state they had found her in, in the weeks since Negan, Pandora had not been alone a moment. Now, somehow, she was able to just slip away right under his nose. 

 

“She can’t have gotten far,” Tara muttered, flicking her fingers to two more people. When they came to her side, she lowered her voice just slightly, saying “Pandora slipped out somewhere, just go look for her.”

 

The two men nodded and headed off in opposite directions. Daryl watched them go before heading out himself. He went outside first. He would get a deep, unsettled feeling when inside for too long, and Pandora was the same. He wondered if she noticed. 

 

One thing about the Sanctuary being an old factory is that all the land stretching around it is bare concrete. On days like today, the relentless sun beams down on them and heats the ground, making it that much hotter. Usually, he hates it. Today, however, it warms a chill deep in his bones. 

 

He had meant what he said to Rick, he didn’t know why she wanted to stay here but if she was here, so was he. So he walks to the ground floor, a tightness building in his gut. It takes about an hour to walk around the sprawling base of the sanctuary, and only on his second pass does he see the legs dangling off a ledge. 

 

Entering through a reinforced door, he found himself in a darkened hallway, a stairway leading up to the right. On the next level, he was met with more doors. He opened them one by one until he found her. 

 

The building stress and annoyance slipped away the moment he saw her there, lying on the sun-soaked concrete asleep. She had been good at hiding her lack of sleep, but not that good not when it came to him. So rather than wake her, he joined her, letting the door close softly, walking to the patch of clear space behind her and sitting down. 

 

Time passes and Pandora sleeps while Daryl watches. At some point, he hears footsteps just on the other side of the door. 

 

“Getting up early?” asks the woman he finds there in the hallway. He asks her to pass along the message that Pandora has found. Then he heads back out to the small rooftop. 

 

As he sits, he watches the slow rise and fall of her chest. This might be the longest she has slept in days. He should take her out of here like he wanted to before. Take whatever they could carry on the bike and just go, there’s a whole world out there.  He should ask her when she wakes up, and ask her to leave here with him. 

 

If she says no, well that's not something he has thought of. A bridge to cross when he comes to it. As Daryl sits, the almost cloudless sky above changes, as a few dark clouds begin to slip into his view. Then one passes over the sun, and without the light, there’s a slight chill. 

 

A minute passes, and then Pandora is stirring. The once peaceful look on her face changes, brows drawing together in concern. Daryl doesn't hesitate to close the distance he has allowed while she sleeps. 

 

“Pandora,” He whispers the word, tenderly stroking hair away from her face. “Ahm right here” 

 

“Daryl?” The hazel eyes that meet him are slightly unfocused, still blurry from sleep. Still, she blinks for only a few seconds then pushes herself up into a sitting position, muscles tight from stillness and lack of use. 

 

God, how long had she been sleeping? The back of her knees ached from being bent for so long. Heaving a sigh, she pulls her legs up, crossing them in front of herself. 

 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to sleep out here,” her voice still slightly laced with sleep. She rubs her face with her knuckles in an attempt to clear the rest of the sleep. 

 

“It's fine,” Daryl's voice is soft, concern lacing his tone. “Ah, I know you haven’t been sleeping, Pandora.”  

 

A hot flush creeps up her neck, splashing her cheeks. She could have sworn he had been sleeping. Sleeping in the days of normalcy without the good whiskey had been harder than she thought it would be. So instead, she found herself lying still in the dead of night wondering what she was still doing here. 

 

Without speaking he watches her, then gives his head a small jerk opening his arms. Pandora doesn't need to be told twice, she slips into the space he opens for her. Negan had never been this for her, a solid, present weight for her to rest her weary body on. 

 

“Why don’t we go out for a few days?” Daryl asks gently, chin resting on the top of her head, now that she’s enfolded in his arms. A questioning hum is the only answer he gets, so he goes on. “The weather's nice, we can go to the kingdom and spend a few days out there.” 

 

Pandora lets the thought sit with her for a moment, turning it around in her head. Leaving this place, even just for a little bit, still feels impossible. 

 

“I can leave, right?” Pandora doesn't mean she has promised to leave no, that she always does. Unease roiled in her gut, what if she can’t do it? Get to those gates and can’t make herself close the last bit of the distance. 

 

“Only one way to find out.” Daryl holds her a little bit tighter, pressing the softest of kisses to the side of her head. 

 

“Hmm” The sound is low but it's all he gets as she relaxes further against him. Fuck, she wants to say more to him. Tell him she’s sorry for wandering off and not saying anything. She doesn’t, though, and he doesn’t ask. Instead, they sit in silence watching the clouds pass overhead while he holds her. 

 

The next two days are spent collecting things. With Negan, she hadn’t needed anything. However, it meant she also never had anything, not really. When they make the choice to go, she needs her own things. So, now there’s a black leather backpack filled with things to take on the road. 

 

“What else do you think ya need Pandora?” Daryl is so patient with her, his hand on the small of her back as they scan the room holding some of these community supplies. 

 

Metal shelves line the walls four shelves deep. They hold a range of supplies, from jars, pots, weapons, and anything you might need to survive for a while out there.  

 

A searching look inside the bag shows a knife still in its stealth. A few protein bars, gloves, socks, and a small first aid kit. Brows knitting together, Pandora’s hand flexes on the open bag. 

 

“I don’t know.” It comes out as more of a whine than anything else. A sigh heaves behind her reaching to grab an empty glass bottle off the shelf. 

 

“What are ya going to drink out of? Cook?” He grabs a pot that she knows contains everything she might need to make a meal out in the woods.  

 

Finally, 20 minutes later, both she and Daryl are packed. His bike is outfitted and they’re waiting for the rest of the group to meet them at the gate. That was the catch. Rick, Michonne and a few others were leaving too, they would go together and break off before Alexandria.  

 

Sweat collected on her palms when she adjusted the strap of her bag. This would be the first time she had left this place since it had been brought to her. There was a time when she didn’t think she was going to make it out of there alive. 

 

“We could go to the Kingdom. See Carol.” Daryl’s voice behind her cut through her thoughts about the gates. 

 

He was solid and warm behind her, so she leaned into him a soft sigh on her lips. Slowly, an arm comes around her middle, pressing her to him. His warmth stops the stiffness at the mention of the Kingdom. 

 

“I asked Negan to take me there after he won.” 

 

There are a few heavy moments of silence in the early morning air, Daryl holds her tighter. 

 

“Then let me show ya what survived him.” 

Chapter 61: Not a Chapter I have a question!

Hey Readers!

The other day this little (hahaha it's not little AT ALL) story of mine got over 10 thousand hits. Which honestly blows my mind and makes me think "You like me you really like me!!" I mean so many of you clicked on this thing and read it, this random idea I had one day and wanted to see where it went.

 

So speaking of where this is going I am at a crossroads, so help me out. I have two ideas in my head let me know which one you all like better OK?

We have two time jumps coming up in the show, the first one is 1.5 years, and then there is the 6-year time jump after Rick is gone.

The Options

Time Jump A 1.5 years

One: I write about the 1.5-year time gap. I fill it with an original little plot, it will be the reason why Daryl doesn't want to lead the Sanctuary anymore when the show picks up again.

Two: I skip the time jump like the show did, and start writing right where the show picks up. I write about Rick dying and fit Pandora right into the story.

Then there is another time gap to think about! Here are the options for that

Time Jump B

One: I write about Daryl and Pandora going out into the woods together to look for Rick. I will change the Leah story line obviously, but I will keep her because I like Dog. I don't write the whole time I fill in some original plot around what we know about what happened in that time. 

Two: I skip the time jump like the show, and do some flashback chapters when needed. The story picks up right where the show does in episode six.

 

So let me know what you think in the comment! 

Chapter 62: A sanctuary?

Notes:

I know ya'll are here ok? I can see you. But that's fine I can make up my own mind, so I'm writing a time jump with a small original plot so be fucking nice ok.

Here you go Chapter 59 Bb's

The wide barren concrete expanse of the Sanctuary only lasts for an hour, then they’re back in the woods, passing parking lots littered with cars, giving way to cracked roads. On the back of Daryl's bike, Pandora clings to his middle, watching the overgrown trees whipping by them. 

 

The panic she had felt at leaving the gates was gone within the first hour. With the first green tree, her shoulders sagged in relief. There on the bike, it was easy to go back to months ago, the endless days in Alexandria putting herself back together. Now, they’re speeding off towards something completely new.  

 

This big wide world is beautiful, she has to admit. Nature is beginning to claw its way back to dominance. The odd buildings they saw were beginning to be overtaken by trees and bushes growing out of control. The road they found themselves on was showing signs of wear, with potholes Daryl was an expert navigating around. 

 

Silence stretches between them, but it’s wonderful. Pandora flexes her arms, tightening her hold on Daryl for just a moment before relaxing. With her ear pressed to his chest, there’s nothing in her head but the rhythmic beating of his heart. It had been days since she felt this calm. Why had it taken her almost two months to go outside? 

 

Right, because she had been a basket case, what else was new? The last few weeks had begun her turning point. She left her room more and more, helped more, and saw more of the people of Alexandra. Sometimes, there was still that whistle in the air, or the feeling of hands on her elbow, but it was better. 

 

Pandora had refused the help of the new doctor, Sidqid. She refused to speak to anyone the way she had spoken to Denise. It was the first time she yelled at Daryl, and a panic attack had followed. That had been two days ago, and now they were out here. 

 

After about four hours, they crossed the bridge over the river and stopped for a short break. The horses were fed and watered, sides huffing with short pants while they rested. Leaning against a tree, Pandora marvels at the world around her. The air around her is warm. It's summer now, she thinks. 

 

When was the last time she saw a tree or smelt that fresh, outdoor air? Too long. When she used to run from Negan, it was always outside or as close as she could get. Leaning against the rough bark of a tree, letting the cool soil-rich air wash over her. Closing her eyes, Pandora tilts her head back, letting the rays kiss her face. 

 

“It's nice out here, huh?” Daryl's gruff voice cuts through her thoughts. 

 

Pandora doesn't open her eyes, just nods, listening to the birds. 

 

“Will we spend the night out here?” Pandora's voice had a touch of yearning in it. To spend a night under the stars reminds her of their days in Alexandria. Sleeping in the open, unfinished guard towers, waking up with the dawn wrapped in Daryl's arms. 

 

“Yah, few more houses than we got to find a place to stop,” Daryl answers, his voice muffled, as he rummages in the bag at his side. 

 

“Here.” In his outstretched hand, he holds an apple. Pandora takes it, teeth biting into the crisp skin. Sweetness explodes against her tongue; it was so good, she sighed. 

 

“Thank you for this,” Pandora whispers in a hushed tone, throwing her empty core deeper into the woods. Days ago she hadn’t been sure this was something she could do and now, it seems like nothing to be standing out here. 

 

“Not so scary, huh?” Daryl's voice is playful as he bumps her shoulder, keeping his weight pressed against her side.

 

Pandora puts her weight against him in return. “No, I forgot how much I liked it out here.” 

 

This time he only hums, handing her a bottle of water. Heat creeps up her cheeks when she looks over at him. He had remembered to take out snacks. Some things never changed. Feeding herself was not something she was good at remembering. Comfortable silence stretches around them as they eat and drink, watching the sun in the trees. 

 

“Incoming!” 

 

The shouted warning goes through the air like a whip, drawing everyone's attention. Conversations come to a halt, weapons are drawn before a sound is even heard. 

 

A young man comes running from the trees still shouting, “Walkers incoming!” red-faced and breathless. 

 

Daryl is fast, like the rest, as he tucks her between his solid form and the tree she had just been leaning on before she even hears the dead. Damn it, there was a time when she has been better at this. Her line of vision is filled with nothing but the wings on the back of Daryl’s vest. 

 

“Stay right here,” he warns, voice low. A knife is already out in his left hand, ready. He holds it at eye level, his grip strong. He doesn’t look at her, only keeps his other arm behind him, pressing her to the tree. He will not allow her to move.

 

That’s fine because a shaking has taken up in her bones, and her face has drained of colour. This is why you don’t go outside the walls, because the world is for the dead ones now, just like they used to tell her in the woods. 

 

Oh god, her mind raced, hands reaching up to grab the back of Daryl's jacket. The dead come wandering out of the woods in all different forms of decay. Pandora lets out an involuntary sound of fear and something that used to be human starts towards them. 

 

“Daryl?” Her voice is a broken thing, hardly above a whisper when she questions him. No, no, no, no, she had only just come out here. Negan would know what to do, he would have a plan, does Daryl? 

 

There’s no answer. Instead, he lunges forward as quick as a snake to plunge his knife into the dead human-shaped thing. It drops, dead weight crumpling to the floor. 

 

A few quick steps have him back in front of her. Pandora reaches out, fingers tightening around his jacket as she pulls him closer only slightly. Seconds seem to stretch out before them as they stare at each other. Blinking, Pandora watches Daryl close the distance, pressing a kiss to her cheek before turning away again. He resumes the same stance as before, knife at the ready, her body pressed between him and the tree again. 

 

Fingers brushed the spot where he kissed her, feeling the press of his lips as if he was still there. There were 10 of them, maybe more, and in a matter of moments, they were gone. Daryl takes down another that gets too close, then doesn't leave her side until it's clear. 

 

It isn't until it's over and the dead are being cleared that Pandora feels like she can finally breathe. She hasn’t moved from her spot, back pressing against the trees. She was no help here; her short-circuiting brain hadn’t even drawn a weapon. 

 

In front of her, Daryl scans the group before turning to face her, eyes locking. Despite the fact that he has not left her side, Daryl still looks at her from head to toe. Satisfied, he leaves her to help, pressing another kiss to her cheek before he takes off. This is a new development Pandora does not mind at all. 

 

The rest of her group gets ready to leave again, a few heading into the trees to kill the rest of the dead she assumed. She had been less than useless here, a child unable to protect herself. She would change. She had done it before—clawing herself back to feeling strong. She could do it again.

 

A breath rattles in her lungs, eyes turning glassy. She’s crying, of course. “Hey Pandora,” Daryl's voice is soft, a dirt-flaked hand touching her cheek, coming away wet. “Yah alright?” 

 

He is in front of her then, one hand resting lightly on her hip. He watches her closely, eyes locked with her hazel eyes. 

 

Pandora stares at him with a shaking hand, wiping her cheeks “I’m sorry, I—” 

 

She didn't know what she wanted to say, how to explain the tears rolling down her cheeks, the fear that gripped her for a second. Each time the dead had been here, Negan had saved her, and now, now it’s Daryl. Fuck, her breath hiccups, but Daryl is on her, enfolding her in his arms. 

 

A sag in her shoulder and a sigh have him tightening his hold on her. There isn't anything else that needs to be said, so he just holds her. Around them, the rest of the group gets back on their horses. They’re slow to get ready to leave, casting weary glances off deeper into the trees around them. 

 

It’s beginning to get dark, the sun has dropped in the sky. The air is beginning to cool, with warm summer days and cool nights all around. Even though everyone else moves around them, Daryl makes no move to join as he still has Pandora wrapped in his arms. 

 

“Daryl!” Rick shouts over to them from atop a horse, “We’ll find somewhere to stay tonight, send out scouts” 

 

She doesn't step out of Daryl's arms even when he makes a come here motion with one hand, speaking to someone over her shoulder.

 

"Take three more riders out ahead, let us know when you see.” It’s then that he takes a step back from her. “Go out a few miles then come back.” 

 

They all nod and head off to get a few of the single horses, much faster rather than going on foot. Pandora watches them go, as they pass the others clearing the dead from the road. She sighs, cursing herself for not being able to do more, she hadn’t even drawn a weapon. Negan had never let her have weapons she hadn't needed, except when Simon came for her. 

 

Shaking her head slightly against his chest, she tries to shake the images away, refusing to let them take her from this moment.

 

“Hey Pan,” she feels hands on her shoulders as Daryl steps away from her, giving her shoulder a squeeze. “Doing alright?” 

 

There’s concern in his gaze, eyes flicking quickly over her face. Attempting to muster a smile, Pandora squeezes his hand.  

 

 “Ya I just—it reminded me of being with Negan.” The breath she lets out rattles in her chest. Suddenly, there’s the smell of the dead in her nose and she’s covered in guts. Suppressing a shudder, Pandora shakes her head, willing the memory away again. 

 

“I want to be able to protect myself again” 

 

Before Negan, she had been so much better with the dead and better at fighting off men. It would be nice to be that way again, to not feel like she needs to hide behind Daryl each time. 

 

Daryl shakes his head, a small smile tugging on his lips, “Always pushing so hard, some things don’t change.” The tone of his voice told her he thought he couldn’t stop her. 

 

The scouts return not long after, saying the road ahead is clear and there’s a small collection of buildings nearby. The group heads towards it, and Pandora sees it when they crest the hill. It looks like a small cluster of city buildings surrounded by a still intact chain link fence. 

 

They all stop, a small group gearing up to check the inside for the dead. Daryl doesn’t join them instead, he stays with her next to his bike while the rest of them clear the building. 

 

Rick doesn’t join them either, as he comes to Daryl’s side. “We’ll spend the night here and head home in the morning.” He says with a lingering glance to Pandora standing at Daryl’s side. 

 

“You too can come home with us.”

 

Pandora jerked her gaze to him, shaking her head, “No.” Pandora's tone is final. She can’t be there, not yet, not knowing that’s where they keep Negan. That’s a demon she isn’t ready to face. 

 

Rick only sighs as she turns to head inside the fences, leaving the two men behind her without another word. 

 

The night finds them on the roof of a water maintenance building. As soon as they had seen the building, Pandora refused to sleep inside. When was the last time they had slept under the stars? Of course, Daryls says yes, bringing everything they need for the night up there. 

 

When the sun sets, Daryl lights a fire, arranging their blankets and pillows near enough to be warm. Pandora watches from a lawn chair that had been left out, a blanket over her shoulders. Above her head, she finds ursa major drawing off the massive bear in her head. 

 

“Here, eat this, ain’t seen you eat shit all day.” Daryl is beside her with a protein bar in his hand, pushing it in her face. 

 

There are memories of days like this, of him being the one to remind her to take care of herself, to eat and to sleep. It makes her smile at him. She takes it, tearing it open and taking a bite without breaking eye contact. 

 

“Come ’ere it’s cold over here.” Daryl reaches for her free hand, pulling her out of the chair easily. Again, she moves so easily for him, letting him lead her away, closer to the fire. He lowers her down onto the mass of blankets he created for them. 

 

Pandora sighs feeling the warmth of the fire seep into her. Finishing the bar, she tosses the wrapper behind her. Daryl has settled beside her now, leaning back on his elbows, she can feel him watching her. 

 

“Do you remember sleeping in the guard towers?” She questions, turning her head to look at him, only to catch him smiling at her. Pandora shifts, leaning back on her elbows to match him, their arms brushing lightly. 

 

“Ah do, sometimes it was the only way you would sleep,” Daryl muttered, leaning forward as he tosses another log on the fire. “Ah’ll take the first watch.” 

 

Pandora scoffs, running her fingers through her waves and shaking her head. “Like I’m going to sleep.” 

 

Daryl moves the pillows, leaning back into them and opening his arm to her. “Come ’ere than.” 

 

She does, of course, close the distance between them and rest her head on his chest. “Will you tell me a story? One where you win.” 

 

Daryl is silent for a few long moments before he sighs, “This one doesn't start good, Pandora, but it ends well if you wait.” 

 

Pandora only laughs, letting her head rest on his chest as she lays down next to him, “Don’t they all?” 

 

Daryl watches her fall asleep on his chest, eventually. His arm gets tired and he shifts her just so her head rests in his lap. The fire is still burning but luckily he’s close enough to reach over and toss another log on without moving her too much. 

 

Her face is softer in sleep, the lines etched away. Daryl can still see the shadows under her eyes from the long nights of not sleeping. He would take her to the Kingdom, where she could sleep under the stars all she wanted. 

 

The moon moves slowly across the night sky, and when it’s directly overhead, Pandora stirs in his arms. 

 

“Please, please, please.” Her voice is broken, tears making it catch. Daryl springs into action in a second, laying her down flat on the floor. Sobbing in her sleep, Daryl tries to wake her, gently stroking her cheek. 

 

“Pandora,” he whispers, leaning down to move her hair from her face. “It’s alright.” 

 

In a flash, she’s awake, shoving at his chest. He doesn’t move, though, knowing from long months of practice how to do this with her. Hazel gaze wide and unfocoused, she cries, gripping his shirt. 

 

Daryl doesn’t speak, only gently lifts her again, bringing her back into his arms. He sits with his legs open, creating a space to enfold her in his arms. She lets him, lets him pull her close and be the thing holding her up. 

 

Long moments pass where they don’t speak, but Pandora calms against him, her breath becoming slower. He has built the fire up more, using it to chase away the long, dark shadows in the night that stretch along to the roof. He would do everything he could to keep the shadows from her. 

 

“Ah still have ‘em too,” Daryl whispers, his chin resting on the top of her head. “Shit when I got out, ah didn't sleep for days. Ah think everyone was waiting’ for me to snap.” 

 

He doesn’t need her to answer to tell him she’s listening, so he goes on, his tone low and soothing. “Mostly watching me take you, rather than being in the dark. Ah, would go out and kill every rooter ah found all damn night.” 

 

Her frame presses closer to him, eyes still tilted up to the stars. He can’t help but lean against the top of her head, taking a deep breath. She smells like cigarettes, rich soil and something that is just whoolly Pandora.

 

There’s so much more he wants to say to her, but the words aren’t there, not yet at least. It doesn't matter because, in his arms, Pandora turns her head to the side, pressing her ear against his chest. 

 

“I always had nightmares, even with Negan.” The small broken voice comes from in his arms, but he doesn’t say anything. 

 

“I started drinking a glass or three at night. It helped.” 

 

“Ah think they took all the booze for medical, so yah shit out of luck.” The form in his arms shakes with the light laughter he can now hear coming from her.

 

“I guess it’s a good thing I have you now.” 

 

“Yah good thing,” the words are whispered into her hair. “Now get some goddamn sleep.” 

 

She laughs but stills, breaths becoming slow and even again., Daryl doesn’t move until the sun comes up. 

 

“Now what?” Pandora questions, hand shielding her eyes from the sun as she watches the rest of the group turn off towards Alexandria. 

 

Daryl was leaning against his bike with a cigarette between his fingers just watching the figures get smaller and smaller. The morning found them sleeping on the roof together, no one had really had them keep any kind of watch. Daryl made sure she had eaten, then packed their things again. 

 

Sometime after the nightmare woke her up, she fell asleep again in his arms. Out here it was easy, she liked it.  

 

“Whatever you want Pandora.” 

 

The way he says her name makes her turn to look at him. There’s a smile there, a slight upturn of his lips that she hasn’t seen in what feels like years. A few long steps on the crumbling road and she’s standing in front of Daryl, arms wrapping around his middle. 

 

“Whatever I want?” 

 

An eyebrow raises as he looks down at her, “Within reason.” 

 

“How long is the Kingdom from here?” The small distance between them is closed when she lays her head against his chest. 

 

He doesn't miss a beat, wrapping his arms around her smaller frame, “Two days if we sleep.” He says that because sleep isn’t something either of them is really good at anymore, there are too many horrors behind their eyes.

 

“Can we take the long way?” 

 

“For you Pan, anything.” 

 

It takes them a week to reach the Kingdom's gates. 

 

   

 

Notes:

Might have a new chapter up by next week, but I have like an adult job so I'm busy sometimes. Either way, show the timeline we are heading into the 1.5-year gap.

Chapter 63

Notes:

Happy Sunday! Here is chapter 60! I'm not going to tell you this Sunday update is going to be a usually thing because you know life, but for now here we are. Enjoy!!

Chapter 60 This is what a real kingdom looks like 

 

“This looks like a city.” Pandora says, leaning around Daryl’s shoulder from the back of the bike. Ahead of the tower, steel panels section off a town. The walls are high, a mismatch of steel and other materials. 

 

However, like Hilltop and Alexandria, figures dotted the tops of the walls, holding long spears by what could be seen. No faces could be made out, just the back-lit outlines of figures pacing back and forth.

 

“State your name!” A stern male voice shouts from the top of the wall. 

 

On the back of Daryl’s bike, Pandora shields her eyes from the late afternoon sun, attempting to see whoever is speaking. Daryl kicks the stand of the bike down and gets off, holding his hands above his head in a gesture of peace. 

 

“It’s Daryl. Tell Carol and the King ahm here.” Then he turns his back to them in a show of trust. He comes back to Pandora’s side and holds a hand out to her. “Come on, get down.” 

 

She does as she’s told, adjusting the straps of the bag on her back, shifting uneasily on her feet. It isn’t a surprise they have to wait out here; Carol was expecting them almost a week ago. At Pandora’s request, she and Daryl had spent a week in the woods together. He had started teaching her to hunt and track again. Her skills had not improved at all, but it didn’t matter to either of them. 

 

They had gained something else out in the woods, an ease they hadn’t felt together in a long time. Daryl touches her often, a hand on her back, shoulder brushing her own. She wasn't sure if he even noticed, but she did, and she enjoyed it. Long days in the woods tracking and hunting had settled her mind. 

 

Finally, the red steel panel rolled open, and figures began to come into focus. It’s Carol, a young boy at her side, and a man not much taller than Carol with dreads past his shoulders. There are a few others, but at the over-excited shouts of hello and the calls of Daryl's name, Pandora is stiff. 

 

“What is it?” Daryl is beside her now, one hand on the small of her back keeping her grounded. 

 

“It’s just a lot of people.” Shielding her eyes from the sun again, she feels Daryl’s breath on her cheek. A heavy stone of dread is growing in her stomach. How many of these people have heard the stories about her? The silent crazy women at Nega’s side.

 

“Negan never got inside this place, come see.” He is beside her, leaning down so that only she can hear him. 

 

Together, they push the overloaded bike towards the entrance, where their welcome party is waiting. The moment the gates shut behind them, Daryl has Carol wrapped in a tight hug. They don’t part for long seconds, whispering to each other in their embrace.

 

It's hard not to grind her teeth together at the sight. It seems so common to be jealous, but here she is. The feeling doesn't last long as Carol lets Daryl go and reaches for Pandora. 

 

“Oh you brave, brave girl,” Carol coos, enfolding Pandora in her arms. Being the same height as Daryl meant Carol stood almost a foot taller than Pandora herself. Becoming wrapped in the other woman's arms wasn’t hard. A hand pets her head, the other around her waist. 

 

“Oh.” The only noise that can escape her sounds more like a puff of air than a word itself. It is, however, the only sound she makes other than sobbing. It doesn’t matter that they are standing at the entrance of a new place surrounded by people she has never met before. All that matters is this welcome. 

 

“I’m so glad you came.” Carol grips Pandora’s shoulders and pushes her away so she can get a better look. “Now where the fuck have you two been?” Her tone is stern and the Carol Pandora remembers back in her voice and her stance. 

 

“My queen, our guests have merely just arrived; perhaps we show them their beds before we question them?” The man with the dreads steps forward with a wide smile across his face. “Come, friends, welcome to the Kingdom. I am King Ezekiel.” 

 

Carol lets Pandora go and moves to the side of the blond-haired boy, “And this is our son Henry.”  

 

The boy beams at them before turning that smile on Pandora and Daryl. Pandora quickly tries to collect herself, wiping feverishly at her tear-stained cheeks. The child doesn’t seem to notice, but Daryl brushes her fingers with his own.

 

 “I heard stories about you, Uncle Daryl and Aunt Pandora.” Henry turns to Pandora, eyes sparkling. “My mom said you were famous.” 

 

A small giggle breaks its way past her lips as she leans over, rubbing the top of his head. For a moment there had been dread, a deep feeling that something horrible was going to come out of the child's mouth. She should have known better. This was Carol’s son. 

 

“Your mom isn’t telling the whole truth, Henry, but one day I will, I promise.” 

 

Carol’s little family leads them into something that looks like a town square. A two-story brown building taken right out of New Orleans looms over the busy street. Children run the streets, people tend gardens, and there’s a small pen with chickens. All around them, this place is brimming with life. 

 

A tightness she didn't even notice in her chest eases as she watches. Ahead of her, Carol walks with Daryl, Ezekiel and Henry behind them. The boy has a stick that reminds her of Morgan’s. She wonders if he had lived through this war. 

 

“I know you don’t like to be too cooped up indoors, so I thought this might be a happy medium.” 

 

Carol stops in front of one of the brown buildings. One that looks half-finished. The bottom two floors are solid, and the balcony should lead to another door with more open space. The back wall and the roof are finished but the where the closed-off front wall should be is open to the street. 

 

“This building had a vine eating away at the bricks. It had to be taken down and replaced. When Carol mentioned you were coming, I thought you might not mind as it stood empty.” Ezekiel nods to the front door where Henry has already raced up the steps and thrown it open. 

 

There are no words in her head to thank him. Instead, she looks helplessly at Daryl who only nods. 

 

“Thank yah. This is nice.”  

 

“I’ll bring food over in a few, alright? And get cleaned up. You both stink.” Carol says then shouts, “Henry, come on, leave them be for a bit.” 

 

Henry comes running back out of the house, leaving the door open, “Coming!” 

 

“Come on, let's go get the bike.” 

 

It doesn’t take them long to get settled in their loan room, well, house, but the two of them make camp on the top floor in the unfinished room. Daryl removes things from the bike. There’s ‌ a lot of stuff to go through from what they picked up in the woods. He sorts, cleans, repairs anything that needs to be done, and Pandora drifts away to explore.

 

As the sun sets in the sky, Carol comes to bring them dinner. They traded her a bag of nuts and wild greens they had picked up that day. They eat together, the three of them standing in an empty kitchen. When Carol and Daryl starts talking about the Sanctuary, Pandora leaves them to it, taking a blanket off the counter and heading up the steps. 

 

“Ah, I thought you would be more excited about being inside.” The sun has long since set by the time Daryl finds her in the unfinished open room at the top of their building. 

 

Someone had brought up a portable fireplace, nothing more than a large copper basin 4 x 4 all around. One thing Pandora has learned from their short time in the woods is starting a fire, she has learned it well. So when Daryl sinks on the floor in front of her little fire, it’s quite warm. The blanket she brought with her was just sitting over her legs, no longer needed to keep her warm.

 

“I’m excited about the bed, not so much as it being inside,” Pandora answers, holding her hands out for the flames and wiggling her fingers in the light. 

 

“Ain't no one said we have to sleep inside.” Daryl wonders out loud, shuffling in his pockets for something. Moments later, he holds a slightly crushed cigarette out to her. Pandora takes it and the matchbox he hands her next as well. 

 

Once lit, Pandora hands the matches back, taking a long drag of the cigarette. Titling her head back, exhaling the smoke into the air. “Let’s use the bed tonight and see how I feel after that.” 

 

“Alright planin’ more than one night here?” There’s surprise in his voice and he throws a look at her over his shoulder. 

 

“Ya, I think so.” 

 

“Carol will like that,” Daryl notes, tossing another log into the steel basin. 

 

Sparks crack and float into the night sky while Pandora watches,  “You spent time here?” She questions, taking another long pull. 

 

“Ah did, right after ah got out to hide from Negan, ah came here.” His tone has gone distant and Pandora turns to watch him speak. “Ah, I needed it for a while after Negan. The King helped me, and then ah left to come for yah.” 

 

Pandora hums softly, taking another drag before tossing the rest in the fire, “Let’s stay a while then, maybe I need it too.” 

 

Pandora shifts herself closer to Daryl's head, tilting up her head to the sky. They sit in a comfortable silence, both watching the stars. A shift and Daryl has his arm around her, tucking her to his side. 

 

“Ready for bed?” He questions, his breath against her hair when he speaks. 

 

Pandora only shakes her head but doesn’t answer. 

 

In reality, her protest of sleep only lasts about 20 minutes after that, she’s dozing against Daryl’s side while he half carries her back into the bedroom. 

 

“Princess! Come on out. I know you didn’t run!” 

 

Negan’s voice bombs in the darkness, the sound of his heavy footfalls closing in from the eerie darkness. Pandora huddles in the shadows, sobbing uncontrollably. His sing-song voice is formless yet somehow all around her.

 

“No, no, no.” This couldn’t be happening. Negan lost, and Pandora was safe. 

 

Amid the darkness, the scene transforms, and she finds herself in a dimly lit room, the air heavy with dread. Negan's mocking presence seemed to materialize before her, like a ghost. 

 

“Here Princess.” Negan hands her a glass of whiskey from where she sits on the bed. “Been a long day, huh?” He sighs, settling onto the mattress beside her. 

 

Pandora still sobbing hurls the glass at him, only to have everything vanish again, leaving her disoriented and gasping for air in the suffocating darkness.

 

“Hey, hey ah got yah.” Daryl’s assuring voice jolts her out of the darkness, as she throws herself at him. 

 

She hears a light ‘hmph’ in the darkness, but he catches her, wrapping her tightly in his arms. Moving them together, he pushes the pillows against the wall and leans back, trying to pull her with him. 

 

Pandora stiffens, though, closing her eyes for a moment she sees Negan again, and feels him so close. A shudder runs through her, a chill in her bones.

 

“Pandora?” Daryl is hushed, whispering her name into the darkness. 

 

She doesn’t answer, instead; she pushes out of his arms, and he shifts his hands on her arms, watching her. Lifting her hands, she runs her fingers over his chin, kneeling in front of him now. This is real, she thinks to herself, and maybe she says it out loud because Daryl is looking at her. 

 

Locking eyes with his blazing gaze, she cups his chin, running her thumb over his bottom lip and feeling the breath there. “This is real.” 

 

She watches Daryl stiffen just a fraction before moving his hand to her waist.

 

“Yah Pandora, this is real.” There’s a husky undertone in his voice, eyes bright watching her.

 

“Ok,” Pandora breathes. Leaning forward, she closes the distance between them, her lips pressing against his. 

 

It’s soft at first, just their lips pressed together, but when Pandora reaches for him in the dark, something snaps. He is hungrier than her, opening his mouth to taste her, quickly licking the closed seam of her lips. Pandora responds by opening her mouth just slightly. Daryl groans in response, fingers flexing against her waist. 

 

Finally, they both pull apart gasping, Daryl is faster, crushing her to his chest, causing her to fall over his lap. Pandora allows him to move her, though. He tucks her against his chest and legs between the open space he has created for her.

 

They don’t speak about what had woken her up screaming, leaning against his chest. Daryl just holds her in the night. The storming doesn’t allow her to speak. Instead, she lays curled against him silently.

 

Leaning down, she feels him inhale deeply. “Think you can sleep again?” 

 

Pandora only laughs, tilting her head up to get a better look at him, “Kiss me again?”

 

Daryl stops inches from her lips. “Tell me what you dreamed about.” 

 

‘Oh, he is good,‘ Pandora thinks to herself, licking her lips. Again, she shuts her eyes, picturing the dream behind her lids. “Negan again,” a whispered defeat. “Chasing me in the dark, then me in his bed.” 

 

Silence, as Daryl tightens his hold on her, pulling the blankets to cover her more fully. “That ain’t real. This is real.” 

 

As if to drive the point home again, he closes those last few inches between them and kisses her again. She returns it this time, opening his mouth. Their kiss is a declaration, “Real, real, real!” it screams into the darkness. This is real. 

 

Another night in the Kingdom turns into two and on the third day, Pandora finds herself in the yard watching the soldiers train. Nightmares had still kept her up the last two nights, but it had been better. Daryl had carried their mattress to the unfinished level the next day and that night, he kissed her again under the stars.

 

This morning, Daryl had gone off with Carol, talking about what they could supply the Sanctuary with while they were growing their food. Again, this isn’t something she wants to be a part of, so she wanders off.

 

“Something behind them, are they not?” 

 

Pandora jumps, almost losing her balance when she leans against a waist-height fence. Whipping her head to the side, she locks eyes with King Ezkiell, a wide grin splitting his face. She tightens her hands into fists in an attempt to stop him from seeing the trembling that had just started. 

 

“My apologies. I didn't mean to frighten you. I saw you admiring the training.” The king turns his eyes back to the men and women working on their fighting with a stick. “My son Henry is with them.” 

 

Pandora does see it then, the small blond-haired boy wielding a stick near the back, his face stern with determination. He holds a staff in his hands, moving in sync with the adults around him. Oh, he’s a marvel, isn't he? A miniature warrior. 

 

“There’s always a place for you there if you would like to join him.” 

 

The king is gone, leaving Pandora to her silent watching. She cannot help but like the man, someone who seemed to expect nothing of her. 

 

That night, they pulled the mattress closer to the fire, right under the open sky. Pandora sits in an oversized t-shirt that falls past her knees and thick woollen socks that reach halfway to her knees. Next to her, Daryl is more dressed than she is. He sits on the floor in front of the fire, knife in his hands, making more arrows. 

 

They had eaten with Carol tonight and while Pandora had not been great company, they tried to include her nonetheless. The conversation had floated around the future about what they could learn from Georgia now that the war was over. Pandora only listened. 

 

“I saw the fighters training today. Henry was there,” Pandora noted offhandedly, using a larger stick to poke her fire, sparks flying into the air.

 

“That so?” Out of the corner of her eye, Pandora watches him add the finished arrow to the empty slot on his crossbow. 

 

“The king said I could join them.” She tried for levity in her voice but she knew, somehow, she was failing. There’s a yearning there. Daryl training her to be outside was good, but she loved knowing how to fight. 

 

“Means we gotta stay,” he reasoned, staring at another arrow, eyes not leaving his task. 

 

“Ya, I guess so.” She doesn't miss that he says we, not you. He wouldn’t go anywhere without her, not again. Before she knows it, she can hear the sound of him tossing off his boots and settling down beside her. 

 

Pandora shifts closer to him, letting him put an arm around her, “If ya wanna stay we stay.” 

 

“And the Sanctuary?” She breathes, resting her head on his chest. What was that place going to do without him? Daryl seems to be the one holding it together. 

 

“A little while with Tara in charge won’t hurt. Girls had it all organised when we left,” Daryl says, tilting his head to the stars. “What’s that one?” He questions, suddenly pointing to the brightest thing in the sky just above them and to the right. 

 

Pandora thinks for a moment before answering, “It’s Venus. It’s that time of year. That means it’s September if I remember right.” 

 

Hmm is her only answer. Then Daryl kisses the side of her head, making her shiver. “We stay then for as long as you want.” 

 

Pandora smiles, sitting up. She turns so her back is to the fire, but she is facing Daryl. Leaning forward, she reaches out, fingers brushing his chin, “I think I could ask you to walk into the woods with me and you would.” She whispers, inching closer to him, her lips just burning his. 

 

Daryl reaches for her, pulling her until she is straddling his lap, a pink tint in her cheeks. This way, she’s a little bit taller than him, so Daryl leans up and Pandora leans down until their mouths meet in the middle. 

 

He tastes like what they ate for dinner and stale tobacco. She loves every second of it, tongue darting out to taste his lips. Daryl's hand finds her hips, tightening there.

 

“Pandora,” He rasps, pulling away from her and licking his lips slowly. His gaze is dark as he watches her, questioning. He still checks in with her every time he kisses her, as one day, she might decide she didn't want him to. 

 

Not wanting to answer him, she simply cups his face in her hands and he kisses her again, deeper this time. A sigh escapes her when they finally break away, foreheads touching, still so close. They stay like that a while longer, sharing a few more soft kisses as the moon rises overhead. 

 

The next day starts their easy fall month in the Kingdom. Each day there is bustling activity around them. In the morning, Pandora joins Henry and the guards in the training she is getting quite good at. In the afternoon, there was always a garden bed that needed tending. 

 

Fall was a heavy painting and harvesting season, she’s told. Lots of food to pressurise and new things to grow. Many days Pandora finds herself in the garden, picking peppers and digging potatoes from the soil. Each evening, she and Daryl find each other again, making their camp in the unfinished section of the house and sleeping under the stars. 

 

While she was sure this was not how the king intended them to use it, they loved sleeping under the stars. There would always be something a little wild about them, something that would rather be outside. 

 

The month passes almost too quickly. Each night in their makeshift bedroom, she makes notes. When all the fall harvest has been planted, Pandora tells Daryl it’s time they head back to the Sanctuary. 

Chapter 64: Building you a Kingdom

Notes:

Looks like I still have more of this in me, my fun little pet project.

Chapter 61: Building You a Kingdom

 

"Do you think the Sanctuary could be like this?" Pandora's voice carries a sense of longing as she lounges in Daryl's arms. They sit together on a makeshift mattress, their shoes off, as is Pandora's rule for their bed. Daryl sits up, one leg bent at the knee, the other leg lying flat in front of him. Pandora sits in the nest made by his legs, resting against his bent knee.

 

They are in their makeshift campsite again in the unfinished building that has been their home for the past month. This time it looks more like it did when they just got there, barren and empty. Most of the things they brought with them are already packed; when the sun comes up, they’ll be leaving.

 

Somehow, after only a month here, Pandora has collected more things, well, things of her own. King Ezekiel gave her a gift after only being here for two weeks, a breastplate just like the ones the fighters in the Kingdom wear. Carol gifted her a belt knife, roughly seven inches long, which fits nicely on her hip.

 

There has been a few more things, newly stitched clothes from Nabila, new tools, pocket knives, gloves, little things that, in these times, mean so much. Pandora will leave tomorrow with a bag the size of Daryl's loaded with things they have deemed necessary for survival.

 

"Ah don't think Ah want them to call me King," he states, finally tossing another log into the fire with a chuckle.

 

Pandora laughs, slapping him on the knee. "You know what I mean, Daryl."

 

Leaning down to her face, he kisses her cheek, letting his head rest against hers, lingering. He has become more free with his affection when they’re alone, something she finds herself drinking up. Even now, she leans against his bent leg, tucking her legs under her, seeking to be a little bit closer.

 

"Ah think so, if they want it to change," he muses softly. "Some people, Pan, they don't want that change."

 

Her gaze drifts down the streets around her. Some of the doors along their strip have lights on over them. They all cast a warm, comforting glow. Unlike the Sanctuary, there doesn't seem to be anything hiding in these shadows.

 

"They could have this," she whispers, rolling her head back to look up at him. "We could show them they could have this."

 

There’s no sound for a few long moments, save for the popping and cracking of the fire before them. She knows he’s thinking, taking his time with his answer, as he does with all things concerning her.

 

"Rick says that ain't got to be our problem," Daryl whispers against the top of her head, understanding the gravity of his words.

 

There’s a part of her that doesn't think of anything else, unable to picture herself anywhere else but there in the Sanctuary, even with Daryl. Can she make a life here in the Kingdom? Hilltop? She can't go back to Alexandria, not knowing who they keep in their stone basement. In her mind's eye, she sees the hidden notebooks and jackets in her drawers.

 

But the Sanctuary had been full of people who were just trying to live, to live without making the hard choices they must make every day. There were families and safe single women. Negan had promised her that. No one was being taken against their will. Had Negan been a monster? Yes, but he was still a leader of men, and not all of them were monsters. Not all of his people needed to suffer for Negan.

 

"I, I, I…" Pandora stammers, sighing and running her hands over her face, emotions clogging her chest. "I want to help them, Daryl. They’re not all bad people, I know that. Arat, she took care of me, and Hunter?" Her voice becomes shrill, picking up its pace. "Simon might have killed me if it hadn't been for Hunter." Her tone is agonized now, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I got saved, Daryl. I got to come back, shouldn't they?"

 

Pandora isn't even sure he understands the end of the sentence through her sobs. She was worried about leaving here, yes, this perfect bubble that is the Kingdom, but she can't hide forever. It’s time to do something. She had watched Negan do terrible things and allowed him to sleep next to her without raising a hand against him. Is she not as guilty as everyone else who let him live?

 

He shifts now, lowering his leg and pulling her into his lap, holding her like a child, an arm supporting her back. She crumples into him, sobs wracking through her, and a gaping hole opens within her, trying to pull her in. The idea of leaving this place hits her harder than she wants to admit. Something else is calling her, something she can help.

 

Curled in his lap, Daryl makes soothing sounds, a hand rubbing up and down her back. "We will save those people too, Pandora, you'll see."

 

She cries for a little while longer, letting herself become dry and empty. The entire time, Daryl doesn't speak again, just rubs her back and presses soft kisses to the top of her head. Even when her breathing deepens, Daryl doesn't move, waiting for a few stars to shift overhead before laying her down on the bed.

 

She had tired herself out with the tears; he notes how she hardly moves as he undoes her belt and pulls the soft sweater over her head.

 

"Daryl?" a watery voice questions from the bed.

 

"Sleep, Pandora. I'm here."

 

She nods, closing her eyes and curling deeper into the blanket he had thrown over her. He wants to kiss her again, kiss away the wet trails of tears on her cheeks, then taste her just for a moment. Not wanting to wake her, he settles for running a strand of her hair between his fingers, moving it out of her face.

 

Heaving a sigh, he strips his vest and his t-shirt, leaving his upper chest bare. The night air has a bit of a bite to it, but as soon as he slips under the blankets and Pandora moulds herself against him, that feeling is gone.

 

"As long as I've got you, I'll save anyone you want," he whispers before trying to sleep himself.

 

Daryl dreams that night, dreaming about the people Pandora wants to try and save. He remembers them pulling him from the back of the van, ripping her from his arms while she screamed. He sees their faces swimming through his vision as he is led through the halls of the Sanctuary like a dog.

 

Thankfully, he doesn't wake with a start, just a tightening of muscles. When his arms close over the empty air, he silently curses himself and sits up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Dawn isn't here yet; the hour is still early enough that the sun is just beginning to rise into the sky above them.

 

"Pandora?" He calls, questions in his voice as he searches for her.

 

She is perched on the edge of the open balcony, the slight breeze picking up stray strands of her hair, blowing over her shoulder when she turns to look at him. There is a smile on her face, small, with a tightness in her eyes.

 

"Come here, get away from there," he grumbles, throwing the blanket off him before getting up. Racing for the bottle of water, he takes a drink, swallows, and then takes another one to rinse out his mouth. Swirling the water in his mouth, he watches Pandora, a glint in her eyes.

 

"Worried I'm going to fall?" She teases playfully, standing in one fluid motion. There’s still something so gentle and strong about her movements, even after all this time. It's mesmerizing.

 

However, the admiration dries up in his mouth when he watches her bare feet begin to walk to the balcony's edge. She takes a few steps, her arms out on either side of her, perfectly balanced. Her eyes glint, and she takes a deep breath, bending her knees slightly.

 

Daryl is up, closing the distance in a few quick steps. He has been in this stance before.

 

"Pandora, I swear to God if y—ah" 

 

Pandora isn't listening; she bends her knee, jumps, her arms up to spin over herself, and lands on her feet again. As she lands, she whoops in triumph, laughing, arms above her head, in perfect form.

 

"I still got it!" She shouts, grinning over at him. "See, I'm fine."

 

But Daryl's face has gone bloodless. He reaches for her, grabs her hip, and pulls her away from the edge with a jerk.

 

"Hey, you—" Her protest is cut short by his lips crashing against hers, hard and hungry.

 

This is not the kiss he wanted to give her last night, the one to chase away her nightmares. This is different. Now, he kisses her with a fierce claim, pouring every ounce of his need into her. He wants her to feel his worry, his need for her and to keep her safe, the fear he had just felt. He lets this kiss be all of that.

 

Pandora gasps against his mouth, and that's the only invitation he needs to plunge into her mouth with his tongue. Her hands come to his chest, and his hand goes to the back of her head, keeping her in her place. Fingers tangle in the hair on the back of her neck, and he gently pulls her mouth from his.

 

They are both panting and breathless. Daryl lowers his mouth to her neck, trailing kisses down. "Don't you ever scare me like that again," he says in a husky tone. Trailing his lips back up her neck, he captures her mouth again, their tongues dancing across each other.

 

Neither of them hears the door open, and the sound of someone clearing their throat increases in volume as if they had been doing it for a while. Finally, Daryl hears the throat clearing along with the sound of a weapon butt hitting the ground.

 

Breaking the kiss, he doesn't turn, his lips tingling, breaking hard. "Yah?" His fingers are still tangled in the strands of Pandora's hair. She is watching him with a glazed expression on her face, her cheeks flushed a bright red, her lips puffy and red from his mouth. She licks her lips, never taking her eyes off him.

 

"Um, dudes, King says we leave in an hour," Jerry says, amusement colouring his voice. "I'll let them know you’re making your way down. Take your time." With that, he hears the click of the door closing. Jerry doesn't need an answer.

 

Daryl’s eyes have not left her yet, they stand in silence, struggling to catch their breath. 

 

“I won’t do that again.” Pandora finally whispers, stepping up on her toes to place another kiss on his lips. 

 

Involuntarily, his fingers flex in her hair, causing her to moan against his mouth, he groans, using the hand on her hip to pull her closer. In his arms, Pandora stiffens for just a moment, but it’s enough. Daryl breaks the kiss and lets her go. Taking half a step back, hands moving to her hips. 

 

“Sorry, I don’t know what that was,” Pandora says, her fingers touching her lips, confusion filtering down her face. 

 

“Sorry Pan, I—sorry.” Daryl lets her go, but she shakes her head violently, putting her arms around his waist. 

 

“It’s my head. It’s not you, promise” She kisses him gently on the cheek again. “Come on, we should go. Jerry is probably telling everyone he caught us making out.” 

 

Daryl rolls his eyes, turning from her to collect their things. “Jerry can say whatever he wants.” 

 

Pandora laughs and skips past him to her bag. “Bet I can beat you down there.” 

 

She calls over her shoulder with a levity he can tell isn’t completely natural. 

 

Pandora does beat him down to the street, but she had a feeling it might have been on purpose. What the fuck had happened? He was kissing her and god damn it, it was a great kiss. Words were never something they needed a lot between them, and boy, could Daryl communicate with those kisses. Shutting the door behind her, she stands there a moment, asking her fingers to touch her lips. 

 

That flash of desire had been so strong it fucking scared her. She had been moments away from dragging that man back to the mattress, and it had terrified her. Desire wasn’t something she felt or something that she had felt in a long time. What if she could never give herself to Daryl like that? What if she was broken forever? 

 

“Pandora!” someone shouts her name, breaking her from her dark, swirling thoughts.

 

Lifting her eyes, she watches Nabila rushing towards her with a basket on her arm. Pandora squints, trying to see what the other woman is holding in the basket. She isn't fast enough, though, as Nabila is above her before Pandora knows what’s happening. 

 

“Come on, load the bike!” The other woman utters at her, leading her by the small of her back towards Daryl's bike. “Then I can do your hair!” 

 

“My what?” Pandora inquired, raising her eyebrows. However, she did what she was told, strapping her one bag down and leaving the second one on her seat. 

 

Grabbing her by the shoulders, Nabila turns Pandora and directs her to sit on the steps. “Just because I have a hijab doesn’t mean I don’t know how to tame hair, and oh boy, does yours need some taming.” 

 

Pandora laughs and lets herself relax while Nabila sits her down. She's right. Pandora's hair is a mess. It hangs down to her mid back, having no one to really cut it for her. While she had her hair more shoulder length most of her life, she was beginning to like the longer length. Nabila sat behind her, chatting away about all the things and people they were sending while working a wide tooth comb through Pandora’s heavy locks. 

 

By the time their party is loaded up, Nabila is putting the final touches on two tight French braids hanging down her back. 

 

“And there you go. This should be better for the road,” Nabila says happily, placing her items back in her basket. 

Pandora reached up letting her hands run over the beautiful, neat braids. Standing, she turns and wraps her arms around the other woman, feeling a few tears prickle her eyes. “Thank you,” she whispers before stepping away. 

 

Nabila waves her hand in front of her suspiciously glassy eyes, “You know there’s always a place here for you and your dirty boyfriend.”

 

Pandora can’t help but let out a peel of whooping laughter, unable to answer. It causes the tears she had in her eyes to run down her cheeks, changing into tears of laughter. Nabila joins in her laughter, rubbing Pandora’s shoulder lightly. 

 

When she finally collects herself and wipes her eyes, Pandora finds Daryl watching them with raised brows from where he stands next to Carol. This only made the two women laugh all over again. 

 

Under the high afternoon sun, their caravan moves at a steady pace down the road. They are bringing their extra crops, building supplies, and wood for fires, all things the Sanctuary would need to get through the winter. This first year it was going to be a group effort to support the people of the Sanctuary. It wasn't an idea liked by all but they understood they had to help. Pandora wouldn’t allow these people to be abandoned; Negan had worked too hard.

 

From the back of Daryl’s bike, Pandora decided they would start hunting. Small game was just as important as the big game, she knew that from her time with Daryl. Any amount of food they brought in would help. She wondered if Daryl would teach people how to hunt as he did for her. 

 

Around her, the landscape begins to change. Trees thinned out and ahead of them. the Sanctuary looms in the distance. A pit of dread pools in her belly at the sight but she keeps telling herself it will be fine. 

 

As they arrive at the gates, a crowd has come out to meet them, a few faces she knew among them. Arat, Tara, and Lauren stand near the front. Arat grins as they lock eyes when Pandora passes them, she can’t help but flush to the roots of her hair. 

 

The moment they got off the bike there was a flurry of activity, Daryl leans over to press a silent kiss to her cheek and vanishes in the crowd of bodies. That stung and a for moment, she stands there, hand on her chest watching him disappear. Behind her, someone jostles her, causing her to stumble forward, right into Arat. 

 

“Pandora?” Arat asks, eyes scanning behind her for what Pandors can only assume is Daryl. 

 

“Ya,” Pandora stammers, lost for a second. Conversation swells around her so loud for a second she holds her hands over her ears. People call out orders, crates are moved, and animals are taken out of cages. 

 

“Hey hey,” Arat is lowering her hands and Pandoar's other bag is already over her shoulder. “Let’s get you out of here, alright?” 

 

“Thank you,” she replies in a trembling tone. 

 

They take up the same stance they had many times before, Arat’s hand on her elbow leading her. This time it was under very different circumstances. Together, they wind through the hallways bustling with activity and movement. Once they reach her and Daryl's room, they stop. 

 

Arat shoves her hands into her pockets, swaying back on her heels. “It’s good to see you back, some of us weren’t sure.” She ends with a slight shrug of her shoulders. 

 

Pandora tightens her hands around the strap of her bag before answering, “I wasn't sure either but…” She lets the sentence hang for a second, remembering last night with Daryl and how she wanted to say this. “I want to help make this place better. It can be.” 

 

Arat nods, handing her the other over stuffed bag, “That means a lot you know, given everything.” 

 

Pandora just sighs, eyes on her feet, “Given that I was kidnapped and brought here. I feel like in a way, all of us were.” 

 

Before Arat can answer, Pandora is already stepping inside the room and closing the door behind her. There’s a sag in her shoulders the moment she’s alone with her thoughts. She doesn't open her journal, though, some things aren’t meant for that book. Dropping the bags on the floor of their living room/workshop, she heads into the bedroom. 

 

In the bathroom, her favourite room no matter where she was, she heads for the dresser inside. Behind her clothes tucked away, she reaches unseeing for a notebook in the back. Pulling it out, she opens it to the first page filled with Negan’s rolling writing. Running her fingers over it, she flips through the first few pages, these were the plans to grow more food. 

 

Negan wanted to see if they could clear the concrete of the parking lot to get to the soil under and make that good growing soil. Pandora read as quickly as she could, filing the knowledge away for a conversation she would have with Daryl later. 

 

Hands stilling, she lifts her eyes from the pages. What would he think if he knew she kept Negan's notebooks? The scribblings for a madman. But maybe if she could show Negan had some redeeming ideas, she could be redeemed as well. With shaking fingers, she slips the book back into her hiding spot. It made her sick to keep secrets from Daryl but the fear of telling him she had hidden these things for months now overpowered her want to tell him.

 

She wonders where Daryl is now, doing something to help this place. Organizing supplies they brought back, meeting with someone, making sure this place is running. Hunter had been right all those days ago, Daryl was a good leader for this place. 

 

Back in the living room, Pandora pushes the coffee table against the sofa, clearing a space for her to sit on the floor. Legs crossed in front of her, she starts with the bag she went to the Kingdom with, removing everything with care and laying it out in front of her. Then the new bag restarting the same process with the same level of care. 

 

There’s a feeling of pride when she looks at all her things; these were her things given to her by people who cared about her. Pandora stands, stretching out the tightness in her muscles, then begins to organize all her things. 

 

When she’s finally finished, Pandora heads for the kitchen to find something to eat. Her’s and Daryl’s room is like a self-contained apartment; if they didn’t want to be around people to eat, they didn't need to. Over the stove, she starts to warm up a jar of soup someone had placed in her bag when they left this morning. 

 

Outside, the sky is beginning to darken and Daryl still hasn't come back yet. She wonders if it’s because of this morning when she froze. They had not gotten a chance to talk about what happened yet. It seemed to be growing between them all day. Now she’s alone, waiting for him. Sighing, Pandora makes herself a bowl and takes it to the sofa alone. 

 

The scene had an eerie similarity to the nights she spent waiting for Negan to come back. It makes her shudder and pause for a moment. That thought makes her rush through the rest of the meal, determined to leave and find Daryl. She doesn’t wash any of the dishes just dumps them in the sink, heading for the door. 

 

The hallways right outside are full of people moving all sorts of things. Some held blankets, some crates of food, others supplies, but everyone was moving. A few people nod at her as they pace, and Pandora nods back. This has been a development since before they left, people here knew her. Not as a leader, not like Daryl, but they knew her and had a weary sort of respect for her. 

 

She heads for the meeting room Negan used to use, it had become the official command center of the Sanctuary. When she steps into the busy room, almost no one notices her, she says almost because the moment she takes a few steps, Arat and Daryl are looking at her. 

 

Daryl stands at the head of the table, his hand resting on the hard surface, pages scattered in front of him. Their eyes lock and he opens his mouth as if he wants to say something but someone claims his attention. It's Arat, Pandora blinks, watching the woman whisper something to Daryl that has him watching her again. 

 

Nodding to Arat and muttering what she assumes is a thank you by the shape of his mouth, he heads towards her. At that moment, the tightness in her chest lessens, this was nothing like when she was with Negan. 

 

“Come on, it’s getting late.” Daryl holds his hand out to her, leading her from the room. 

 

She lets herself be steered down the hallway back towards their room. She doesn’t even realize when they’re back inside. Pandora heads for the kitchen to warm up the soup she had made. 

 

“Here, eat. I’m going to shower.” Pandora brings a bowl to where Daryl is sitting on the sofa, shoes off, feet on the table. 

 

“Thank ya.” He takes the bowl, placing his hands over hers and holding her gaze. “We gonna talk after.” It’s not a question and Pandora only nods before turning away into the bathroom.

 

In truth, it isn’t until they’re both showered and lay tangled together in bed that they finally take a moment to talk. Daryl sits propped up against his pillows, shifting his hips slightly to get more comfortable. Pandora has turned herself into his side, resting her head half on a pillow and half on his chest. 

 

“Spill. Arat said she had to bring you back to the room.” Daryl finally speaks into the darkness, one arm tightening around her despite the slight gruffness in his tone. 

 

One of her fingers toys with the end of her still very much intact French braid while she thinks. “My head is a mess today, has been since this morning.” She words come out in a rush of air leaving her a sagged husk against him. 

 

A huff under her and a chuckle, “Start there then.” 

 

A sigh and a few more breaths before she spills the events of the day to him. The feeling of desire that morning frightened her, she told him through quiet tears how worried she was she was broken. He held her a bit tighter when she said that, kissing the top of her head, but he didn’t interrupt. So she goes on, explaining how she lost herself in the crowd when he left her, when Arat had found her covering her ears and walked her back to their room. 

 

“Ah shit Pan, Ahm sorry Ah didn’t think, Ahm sorry.” 

 

“No, hush,” She whispers, slapping him lightly on the chest, she wants to get this out. “Having her bring me back here, making food and waiting for you, it felt so much like it had before.” The end of the sentence trails off into a choked whisper. “I was Princess Pandora again, waiting for him. It’s not your fault, but that's why I came to find you.” 

 

Her words hang in the air between them the only other sound her sniffling softly. Still, she shifts, tilting her head to look at him, tear-covered face and all.

 

Daryl slackens his grip on her and shifts slightly until they’re staring at each other. It's her who closes the distance this time, placing the softest of kisses on his lips. 

 

“Ah, Pandora Ahm sorry,” Daryl says softly, shaking his head and sitting up, he takes her with him before slipping them both under the covers. Tucking an arm under her pillow, Pandora snuggles next to him. 

 

“It’s not your fault. I told you, it's me and the mess that is my brain.” Pandora kisses his chest right over a scar feeling him shiver. “I do like kissing you, I just—” she lets the rest of the sentence hang, she just what? Wanted to take it slow, wasn’t that what this is? Wanted to talk about it more? Definitely not, so what?

 

“Ah know, sleep now alright? We got work to do tomorrow.” 

 

Pandora knows he isn’t wrong, there will be work to do tomorrow. It all begins tomorrow. 

 

Chapter 65: Are you trying to live like everything is a lesson to learn?

Notes:

Hey friends! This is a special chapter for me, um we got some adult time happening at the end of this chapter. If you don't want to read about Daryl and Pandora being intimate stop after the line and before then of this chapter. Also, I may or may not have used AI to create images of Daryl and Pandora and god damn I love them. I'll add one at the end for your viewing pleasure.

Are you trying to live like everything is a lesson to learn?

 

"I think we can make this work," Pandora says as she stands in the back parking lot with Arat. The concrete in front of them is more broken here; it would be a good place for their plan. They could pull up these pieces to see the soil underneath them.

 

"I don’t know about this, Pandora," Arat sighs, scratching a thin scar on her cheek, her head shaking.

 

Pandora nudges the other woman's shoulder, grinning playfully, "Come on, we need a challenge."

 

"I don't think that's what we need at all," Arat mutters, spitting to her right. "Alright, let me get some guys and some tools and see what we can do."

 

Pandora turns to the other women and grins broadly, "Thanks, friend."

 

Arat shakes her head, a little smile on her face, and turns to head back inside, leaving Pandora alone.

 

When she and Daryl had woken up this morning, it had been a slow domestic ritual of breakfast and coffee, something they found themselves falling into easily. When the morning started, they talked about going their separate ways. Daryl had meetings this morning with all these inner workings of things Pandora wants no part of.

 

Daryl had taken the time to listen to her plans about the concrete; he seemed pleased she had something to focus on. She doesn’t tell him where she got the ideas, the little stash of notebooks she keeps hidden away.

 

Outside now, Pandora tilts her head up, the sun basking in the air for a few long seconds. It's so warm they might be able to get a harvest in before the first snow falls, the more food the better.

 

“Pandora?”

 

Lost in her thoughts, she hadn’t heard the door open behind her, and the sound of someone calling her name makes her jump slightly.

 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.”

 

Pandora turns slowly, one hand fluttering over her throat as she glances at Hunter, who is standing at the far door with his hands up. At first glance, she smiles at him, until she takes in his posture.

 

He looks nervous, and it sets her teeth on edge. “What's wrong?” She questions, head tilting just slightly.

 

“I was looking for Daryl, but I saw you first.” He rubs the back of his neck, still not fully meeting her eyes. “Can I just show you?”

 

Worry rises in her gut but she closes the distance, putting her hand on his arm. “Lead the way.” She forces cheer into the inflection of her voice.

 

Hunter takes her back inside, leading her down to the main level of the building. He takes a turn down a hallway. She doesn’t go this way often. Pandora tries to remember what's down this way, storage? A garage, maybe.

 

Hunter stops short and turns to the wall. Pandora turns with him, all colour draining from her face, her hand dropping away from his arm. Painted in bright red spray paint on the stale grey wall are the words, ‘We are still Negan.’

 

Her mouth opens and closes slightly, unable to form words for a few long moments as they both stare.

 

Hunter’s voice was a distant hum, but his words snake through the fog of her shock. “We don’t know who did it...” he was saying, but the words skitter across her skin, unwelcome and provoking a shiver of revulsion.

 

Pandora tries to muster herself, dropping her hands to her sides, “Find some paint to cover this up, keep it to people you trust.” They should hide this. Whispers like this could be dangerous, history only knew.

 

“Yeah, yeah, of course, Pandora for sure.” Hunter stammers, “I didn’t want to bring this to you, but…” He trails off again, rubbing the back of his head, eyes on his shuffling feet.

 

“No, thank you. If you hear anything else like this, come to me, please.” She tries to make herself sound more confident than she is right now. Inside, she stands on the edge of a gaping black hole. She doesn't know why she tells him that, she should take this right to Daryl or to literally anyone else.

 

“I’ll make sure Daryl knows about this,” Pandora states, trying to sound more in control than she is, then turns and flees into the darkened hallways, heedless of Hunter calling her name. No, she needs a moment to collect herself, to remind herself that Negan is not in charge anymore.

 

She finds herself in the remnants of her former prison, the bare room where shadows whispered of past horrors. When Pandora finds what she’s looking for, she’s the only one in the hallway. Gasping, she throws herself into what used to be that room, sinking onto the floor, knees up to her chest.

 

The dam breaks then, tears streaming down her cheeks, crumpling into herself, sobbing. Goddamn it, she thinks, raging in her head. He still lives here, haunting the minds of these people, like he haunts her. A small pained voice in her head whispers that she is keeping him alive with her plans. It's not the same though; she’s doing this without him, showing that this place could be different without him.

 

It would be different; this place didn’t need Negan anymore. She struggles to pull herself together, knowing that by now, Hunter is looking for Daryl or has already found him. How would they find her here? Pandora could disappear for hours, losing track of time in her grief.

 

Somewhere down the hall, a door slams, footsteps treading down the hall; dimly, Pandora wonders if they were coming from her. Still, she cannot stop her sobs, even as she presses her hand to her mouth to silence the sound.

 

“Hey, Pandora?” A woman's voice cuts through the haze. In front of her is a woman she recognizes but can’t put a name to her face. “Oh, honey.” The woman must have said something else because there was a light touch on her shoulder then she was alone again.

 

Daryl stands in the front parking lot with Tara and Laura, “I think we send three cars, going this way, this way,” He gestures towards the ocean's side, not the settlement itself but to the north of it. “One group here; there has gotta be more along the shore than we think.”

 

Laura shields her eyes, peering over the three cars they have in front of them, “We have things more rugged than this; I can get them ready.”

 

Daryl looks over the cars as well; might be better to have something bigger.

 

“Hey, Daryl!” A young blond man comes jogging out towards them. It takes Daryl a moment to remember the man's name.

 

“What is it?” His tone is a bit sharper than it should be. Hunter meant no harm, but there was something about his relationship with Pandora that bothered him.

 

“Um, listen, I think I messed up.” The young man is stammering nervously, not meeting anyone's eyes. Silence falls as they wait for him to go on, only to be met with silence.

 

“Hunter!” Laura's voice cracks like a whip, calling the young man out of his stupor.

 

“I showed Pandora something, and she took off, I’m sorry.” He steps back, raising his hands then. “She was looking so good I wasn’t thinking.”

 

“Show me,” Daryl seethes, turning away from the papers. Hunter lets him inside, down a hallway close to where they had been at the bottom level.

 

“It was this.” Hunter gestures to the wall as the two men finally stop.

 

Daryl glances up, ‘We are still Negan,’ has been painted on the wall in bright red spray paint. He touches it, fingers coming away dry; it’s been up for hours to be dry this close to the basement.

 

“Don’t bring this shit to her,” Daryl snarls, whirling on Hunter, jabbing a finger in his chest. How could he be so stupid? They had been back here a day; he couldn't even give her a day of peace. “This isn’t her goddamn problem; Negan is not her problem.”

 

This time, something hardens in the young man's eyes, and Daryl's finger flicks towards the knife at his belt out of habit. The tension becomes thick between them, and Daryl is reminded there are pieces of Pandora's time here he doesn’t know about.

 

“You’re her boyfriend, not her keeper, not like Negan was.” Hunter's tone is a shade darker, and the two men lock gazes. “I won’t keep things from her if I think it’s important.”

 

Daryl wasn’t sure if Hunter had thought this was important or was not choosing a hill to die on. A huff, and Daryl turns away, needing a second to collect himself.

 

“If you could take care of this, Ah would appreciate it,” Daryl doesn’t apologise for his outburst, but he tries for a softer tone. “Ah’ll find her.”

 

He sprints up the stairs to their room first, finding it empty and as untouched as it had been this morning. A silent curse and another moment to take a few long deep breaths as he stands in the living room. There was no way she got outside the gates, meaning she was here, somewhere in this building.

 

Daryl doesn’t tell anyone else he is looking for her, just silently stalks the hallways for what feels like hours until Frankie steps into his path.

 

“Daryl? I found Pandora. I thought you might want to take her back to your room.” The red-haired woman smiled sweetly at him; she had been one of Negan’s wives and helped turn the mind of this place quickly when it was all over.

 

Daryl lets her lead him down the hallway in the medical room where Pandora sits in one of the chairs, a heavy-looking blanket over her shoulders. Her eyes are wide and glassy, staring off into the blanket wall in front of her.

 

“I found her by um where the little rooms used to be,” Frankie answers the question before he can even ask it, then turns and leaves them.

 

He knows the rooms she’s talking about, the ones they took sledgehammers to make sure no one could get locked in them again. She had run right there after seeing the message; he knew why. Understood the need to remind herself that it was different, remind herself she could never go back in that box.

 

Daryl sighs sadly, crouching down to cup Pandora’s face between his warm palms. “Hey there, darlin’,” He whispers, letting one hand fall to reach for her hand.

 

Pandora blinks slowly, eyes clearing slightly as she looks at him. “Oh shit, I did it again, didn’t I?” Watery hazel eyes rise to meet him, and he watches her lower lip quiver with a fresh wave of tears.

 

“Nah, it’s alright. Come on now, it doesn't matter.” Daryl lifts her, taking her hand; he leads her back up the few flights of steps to their room. Neither of them speaks on the way, but Pandora grips his hand like a lifeline as they walk.

 

When the door is finally closing behind them, whatever had been holding Pandora up is gone, and she sags against him. He takes her to the sofa, where there are more papers and maps spread across the table's surface. Sitting her down, he crouches in front of her again, hands on her knees this time.

 

“What do ya need?” He questions softly, anything in his power is hers; all she needs to do is ask him. She doesn’t; just stares at him, wide-eyed and glassy as before. He doesn’t press; instead, he sits on the opposite side of her and tells her the story of the end of the war with Negan again.

 

At the first mention of his name, he feels her stiffening like a jolt has gone through her, and then she relaxes again, laying till her head is resting on his leg. Daryl runs his fingers along the right braid; it’s still in place as he retells the story Pandora might already know by heart.

 

It's not long after Pandora is sleeping that a knock sounds on the door, so light Daryl almost misses it. Easing out from under her, he replaces his thigh with a pillow and heads for the door. He didn’t think it would be like this coming back here; how could he know?

 

Arat stands there with a hand on her hip, “Hunter told me what happened; it's gone, and a few of my guys have their eyes peeled for anything else like it.” She gives him a report in way of a greeting, and Daryl is thankful she cuts through the bullshit. “I gave Hunter shit same as you; he said the same thing to my face.” There’s an undertone of appreciation in her voice; Hunter did have balls.

 

“She’s sleeping,” Daryl steps aside, letting Arat glimpse Pandora's form curled on the sofa.

 

“Too bad, I wanted to show her she was right.”

 

“About what?” He intones, brows raised at her.

 

A grin splits the woman's face, “Come on,” she says, jerking her head to the hallway.

 

“She was right,” Arat says, standing in the old back parking lot. In front of them, five men worked, all using various tools to lift the slabs of broken concrete on the ground. “There is rich dark soil under there. We could farm it.”

 

They could farm it and use more tools to take up more of the concrete. Eugene could think of something; they could clear this whole lot, grow enough food to make a dent in their growing need for it. The men used a mix of shovels, picks, and crowbars to chip away at the very thick layer of grey coating. A small pile of cement was growing; they could use that for something else.

 

“Anything yah need for this, it’s yours. Help her make this happen,” Daryl wants this because Pandora wants to feel like she’s doing what she set out to do, to make it better.

 

“For sure, Boss,” Is his only answer as he turns and goes back to his room. 

 

Pandora feels a cool breath on her cheek and someone calling her name softly when she finally opens her eyes. Blinking, she tries to make sense of what she was looking at, her hands going out and meeting hard chest.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ 

“Hey, Pandora.” Daryl’s tone is soft, one finger ghosting over her cheeks. 

 

Sitting up, she reaches for him, the events before her panic attack tumbling back into her head. Daryl stands, letting her wrap her arms around his waist and hide her face in his shirt. Patiently, he strokes the top of her head as she clings to him, breathing deeply 

 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to run off.” A muffled voice from his chest says to him. Daryl sighs, putting his hands on her shoulders and putting some distance between them. 

 

“Hunter showed me, Ah took care of it.” He says, eyes locking with hers to scan them. She was there, present with him. 

 

Sitting beside her on the sofa, he wraps his arms around her and lets her rest tucked under his arm. She sighs, tension leaking from her body, she had been so fucking stupid and he was never anything but patient with her. 

 

Her fingers play with the hem of his shirt letting her fingertips brush against bare skin, feeling him shiver under her. She traces each scar she can reach, even the one that dips below his waistband.

 

“Pandora,” There’s strain in his voice but it only sets the blood pounding in her ears. 

 

They were not Negan, not anymore; they were free. She could have him and no one could tell her different, not Negan, not her fucking nightmares, no one. Sitting up, Pandora slides one leg over Daryl, settling herself onto his lap. His eyes darken as he watches her hands, going for her hips as always, flexing against her hot skin. 

 

Leaning down, she kisses him hard, this time opening her mouth right away, desiring a spark between them. He’s matching her intensity stroke for stroke grinding his hips up and making Pandora gasp against him. Oh fuck, heat pools between her legs as she drags her fingers up his back. Let this be the thing that chases away the chilled fingers of her memories and her panic, let it be Daryl like it always is. 

 

He breaks away, panting, leaving Pandora to catch her breath, shocked at the loss of his warm mouth. She wants to give him words to reassure him but they don’t come. When she opens her mouth, only a pained sigh escapes her. His fingers leave her hips, skating over her sides and back. His nails scrape lightly, making her shiver against him. 

 

Pandora looks down at him, breathing hard. She moves to kiss him again but he dodges her. 

 

Instead of going for her mouth, Daryl tilts his head down, trailing kisses down her neck, “Beautiful.” He punctures each kiss with the word until he has kissed his way down her collarbone and into the hollow of her throat. 

 

Then in one fluid motion, he moves her, slipping her under him on the sofa. Pandora gasps but reaches for him, tugging his mouth back down to her. Daryl groans, settling on top of her on his elbows, legs tingling between them. He licks the inside of her mouth, tongue searching for her own. 

 

A sharp jolt of pleasure from the teeth on her lips has her crying out just a little. Above her, Daryl freezes. There’s a flash of panic. He’s going to leave now, get off her, and make sure she’s okay. At the first feeling of him pulling away, she locks a leg around his waist to stop him.

 

“Daryl?” Pandora gasps, panting and pleading with him. “Bed please.”  

 

He doesn’t hesitate, hands under her ass he lifts her, forcing her to wrap both legs around him so he can carry her into the bedroom. Lowering her to the bed, Pandora stares at him, her breath is still coming in quick short pants. She wants him, wants to trace every single inch of his skin until she knows every single scar. 

 

The old panic is there in the back of her head, the feeling of ghostly fingers holding her down. Determined, she tugs at the edge of her shirt, pulling it over her head. She should have known better because the moment she has it half over her head, Daryl is on her, helping her undress the rest of the way. 

 

She sits before him in nothing but a white sports bar stretched across her chest. He has seen her in less, seen her fully naked before but this, this is different. His shirt is gone too as he lowers his frame over her own. His movements are slow, somewhat predatory as he looms over Pandora now lying flat on her back

 

“Will you kiss me again?” Pandora whispers, reaching her hand up for his face. 

 

Daryl chuckles in the darkness and his answer is another press of his mouth to her own. In the darkness, he gently peels off the rest of her clothes, calloused hands running up and down her bare legs leaving goose bumps in their wake. Pandora bites his lower lip, pulling it slightly. 

 

Growling, he pulls away from her teeth and let's go with a pop, “Pandora.” His one hand is back on her hip, his favourite spot, a finger running over the line of her underwear. There’s a question there and she knows it without him needing to say the words 

 

Lifting her hips slightly, she presses into him, desperate to be closer. There’s no way he cannot feel the heat of her, even through his jeans. His stiffness above her and the feeling of his hardening cock against her legs tells her he knows how much she wants him.

 

“I want you, you know that.” She whispers to him now, her lips sucking at his ear lobe and biting him. Lifting her hips again, she gasps, feeling a glorious friction against her clit. She thinks she might lose her mind in this moment if he doesn't touch her soon, and the thought should scare her. 

 

That is what snaps Daryl's restraint. He pulls at the waistband of her panties, she cannot help but laugh, helping him remove them by wiggling her hips. Then they’re tossed into the dark and Daryl is standing over her again. She doesn't move or breathe under his intense stare. Steady fingers move for her bra next, until she is lying in front of him in all her glory, scars and bullet holes on display for him.  

 

Daryl sucks in a breath and leans down, kissing the W scar above her sex. He is so tender, kissing the entire shape, that Pandora can’t stop the tears from spilling down her cheeks. He keeps kissing her body then kneeling over her, he kisses every mark on her skin until he has made his way back to her mouth. 

 

“Ah love ya,” he whispers, kissing away the tears on her cheeks.

 

She moves for his mouth now, her fingers trailing down to his belt. “Show me.” She purrs at him, tossing his belt to the floor. Her fingers work quickly before she loses her nerve, pulling the zipper down. She watches him stand up and step out of his jeans, the instant he is naked, his cock jumps free, hard with a drop of pre cum beading the top. 

 

Instantly, her mouth goes dry at the sight of him; he is stunning. All hard lines, lean muscle, and scars paint his skin as much as they do her own. Leaning back on her elbows, she takes him in, gaze trailing from head to foot. 

 

Daryl moves toward her, pushing her back onto the bed and covering her with his body. His lips brush against her neck as he whispers, “You need to talk to me.” 

 

“I want you,” She gasps pleadingly as his thigh presses against her wet centre, causing the sensation of friction to rocket through her body. Her fingers find his shoulders, gripping him as if worried he might vanish.

 

“Fuck,” He growls, mouth trailing down, he finds her hardened nipples. The feeling of his tongue on her sends shockwaves through her, causing her back to arch. He was all around her then, mouth on her breast and hand sinking to the wetness between her legs. 

 

“Fuck, Pandora.” Hands-on her hips, he pulls her so she’s lying down and kisses his way between her legs. She has never seen him like this, hands flying over every inch he can touch. 

 

Breathless, she tangles her fingers in his hair, gasping his name. He works her under his tongue like he has been doing this his whole life. He takes to her like a man starving and Pandora is seeing stars before she knows what's happening. She takes it, letting the waves of pleasure crash over her as she calls out his name. Daryl doesn't stop right away; he continues to lick her until she cries out a little, tugging his hair to bring him up to her. 

 

“Perfect,” his eyes are dark, mouth glistening from her release. “Yah perfect, so fucking perfect.” He whispers, dark eyes watching her, licking his lips and lowering himself for another kiss.

 

“Please, please,” she whimpers, which seems to be the only thing she knows how to say at the moment, still high off her orgasm. Her hand reaches out, wiping the wetness from his lips, then leaning up to kiss him again. 

 

Daryl stops, his hand cupping her cheek, “Yah you need to talk to me.”  

 

He’s asking something impossible of her because there are no words, only desire. 

 

“Please, Daryl.” She raises her hips slightly as if she could allow him to enter her. 

 

“Ahm right here,” he never takes his eyes off her, taking his time and filling her slowly. 

 

She cries out, back arching and fingers digging into her shoulders. She thinks she’s talking, maybe she’s begging? She cannot be sure because there’s nothing else but Daryl and how good he feels inside her. 

 

“Pandora?” Her name is a tight question and he is still above her. 

 

“I love you,” she whispers, hips moving slightly just to get an inch of friction. That’s all it takes and Daryl is moving above her, trailing kisses down her neck as he makes love to her. 

 

Chapter 66: I'm not here to be the saviour you long for, only the one you don't

Notes:

Sometimes I still update this, so here you go.

I'm not here to be the saviour you long for, only the one you don't

 

Sunlight cuts through the windows, casting rays over Pandora and Daryl's tangle of limbs in their bed. Pandora had slept through the night, not a single image to pull her from sleep. Now, the thing that wakes her up is a soft kiss pressed to her shoulder and whispers of her name. Warmth and desire spread through her like water, making goosebumps prickle her skin. 

 

“Morning,” Daryl leans over, pressing another kiss to bare shoulder. He’s on his side, one arm tucked under his head, the other lying over his side. 

 

Smiling at him, she kisses his lips, rolling over onto her back, arms stretching above her head, joints popping. There's stiffness in places she doesn’t usually feel, which causes a hot flush to creep up her face. 

 

“Ya look pleased this morning.” There's a smug undertone in his voice as well as he lounges beside her. “Ya alright?” He questions softly. 

 

Pandora turns her head to look at him; he trails a finger up and down her arm slowly, watching her intensely. Heat flares where he touches her, a reminder of last night, when Daryl had chased away everything that came bubbling up, like the memories of Negan and the wolves.

 

“Perfect,” she admits, leaning over and kissing him softly.  

 

A knock sounds at the door that has them both jumping and scrambling to cover themselves. As unbelievable as it is, Pandora finds herself laughing, scrambling off to the bathroom while pulling on Daryl’s crumpled t-shirt. No one would come in here without their permission, but she’s too giddy for logic. 

 

Flicking on the lights, Pandora stands in the mirror. Her cheeks are flushed skin, and her neck is coloured with light pink spots. Her fingers trail over them, Daryl’s marks, reminding her of the feeling of his lips on her skin. 

 

Shaking fingers touch a mark just above her collarbone, there was a time when there had been other marks on her skin, left by men who had no right to mark her in that way. Panic flares for a moment, a hand threatening to choke off her air.

 

Behind her, the door clicks open, and Daryl is behind her, hands resting lightly on her hips. He’s warm and solid, still without a shirt. The smell of him wraps around her, and she sighs. They don’t speak, only stand in silence, eyes locked in the mirror. 

 

“Who was that?” she finally asks, tilting her head up to meet his eyes. 

 

“Arat,” he answers, mouth still pressed to the top of her head. “Ya good?” 

 

“If you ask me that again, I’m going to scream.” Her voice has a playful tone as she spins around to face him. “I’m fine.” 

 

His arms tighten around her, and he kisses her again, slowly and sweetly. A sigh escapes her as she melts into him. 

 

“I swear to god,  Pandora, I will come in there and get you. We have work to do, and there’s a water ration now.” Arat yells from the other side of the door, fist pounding on it. 

 

“She’s comin’, “Daryl shouts, breaking the kiss. 

 

“Oh for fuck’s sake you're both in there,” there’s a huff then the sound of another door slamming followed by silence. 

 

By mid-morning, Pandora and Arat have a crew clear two five-foot plots of ground. Once the men hauled the concrete off the floor, there was a gap of about a foot before the sunken ground. Under the parking lot, there's a ton of good soil, or so she thinks it’s good soil, someone else will need to tell her. Hunter maybe. 

 

The thought of Hunter makes her stomach clench. She had not seen him since she had her moment yesterday and went running off. Very mature, she thinks to herself, shielding her eyes from the sun. 

 

“Hey, boss lady!” Someone shouts from a few feet in front of them. Pandora looks up to see a big broad-shouldered man waving an arm at the two women. 

 

Arat nudges her arm, jerking her head to the waving man, eyebrows raised. Pandora blinks a few times because there's no way that man is talking to her. She has never been the boss of anything in her life, let alone in this place.

 

“Pandora?” Her name is called again by the same man and now there's no arguing with Arat who just folds her arms behind her back, smiling slightly. 

 

Sucking in a breath, Pandora crosses the space between them, giving the man a small nod. 

“So, um, I think we got up all we can right now, Miss,” the man shuffles his feet, not meeting her eyes. 

 

The parking lot before Pandora is torn up and in front of them is a gaping hole in the ground. In the soil, there's some trash, rocks, and weeds. 

 

“It needs to be cleaned up now,” Pandora comments, half to herself. 

 

“Ya, we can do that. Then what?” The man asks, raising his eyes to her as he waits expectantly for her answer.  

 

Her hands tighten into fists then release; she hadn’t looked at her notebooks since she had seen the message on the wall. Now, she was blanking on what should be done next.  

 

“Clean out the soil, take out all the trash and shit, then we’ll get a group together for more soil and to fill the holes a bit.” Arat comes to the rescue with her gruff tone jerking her head to indicate when she’s finished talking to them. 

 

When the crew has started their clean up, Pandora turns to Arat, “Thank you,” she mumbles, cheeks feeling hot. Her head was not there, it was still in bed with Daryl.

 

“Head in the clouds. Come on, I'll beat it out of you.” 

 

Beat it out of her the woman does. Arat takes her to the new small room they use as a gym. When they finally finish, it’s because Pandora is doing terribly. Lying on the floor, a line of blood dripping from her nose, Pandora turns her head to spit on the ground. 

 

“I hit you twice, what happened?” Arat spits irritatedly, throwing a towel in her face. “Wipe your nose before your boyfriend shoots me in the head.” 

 

Shutting her eyes against the towel in her hand, she does as she’s told, wiping away the blood. Her face throbs dully, she knows she’s going to swell up. Daryl might actually want to inflict violence if it’s as bad as it feels right now. 

 

“You saw the wall?” Pandora’s question is muffled by the towel she presses against her nose. 

 

“It’s gone.” A flat answer. 

 

“Not the point, someone put it there, someone thinks that.” Pandora can hear the edge of panic in her voice, so she stops, shuts her eyes tighter, and tries to breathe. “He haunts this place just like the rest of my fucking nightmares…” her voice trails off into a broken whisper. 

 

Shifting, she hears rustling next to her, so she opens her eyes to find Arat sitting against the wall, head in her hands. A shocking moment of humanity is hardly seen in Arat's thick skin, the woman looks broken.

 

“He haunts me too,” there's a beat of silence before Arat speaks again. “When I saw that shit, it felt like he was going to walk around the corner whistling that damn tune.” 

 

It sounds now in her head, that tune he would whistle while wandering around the hallways of his kingdom. “He can’t still have power here. I won’t let him or his ghost.” She speaks with a conviction she has no right to, how could she do that? 

 

“I’ll put the word out and see if anyone knows anything, but I won’t say why,” Arat lowers her hands, tying her curls back in a bun.

 

“Be careful.” Pandora pulls herself up, shaking her arms and head, turning to Arat’s still slightly slumped form. 

 

“Ya Pandora, you too.” 

 

When Pandora realises she’s finally alone, it’s not clear how much time has passed. It must have been a while because when she stands, her stomach gives a twitch of hunger. Food doesn’t interest her right now, though. Instead, she leaves the little makeshift gym and heads up to another floor. 

 

It's almost lunchtime, Daryl could be in a meeting, which would be in their board room. She stops short, almost running into an open door. Taking a few steps backward she only nods in the direction of where she thinks the person is but doesn’t raise her head, only keeps walking down the hall. The interaction has her rattled for some reason and now she’s turned around. 

 

Cursing under her breath, she stops. Fuck, this place is always like a maze. Two more hallways, and finally, she’s looking at doors to the outside. But there's something else, too, tucked near a darkened corner is a figure. 

 

A silent step forward, Pandora watches, head tilting to the side slightly. There’s a chemical smell in the air and a hissing sound. Her face hurts, but she steps forward nevertheless. 

 

“Hey!” her voice rings out, and the figure drops something, a metal click as it rolls across the floor. The shape turns to her before bolting into the darkness. A second too late, Pandora's brain works, and she tries to follow. Only to trip on whatever had been dropped. She doesn't fall hard, as an arm goes out to break her fall, stopping just short of hitting her head. 

 

Sitting up, her hand reaches for the object only to come away with a can of spray paint. A cold sweat breaks out, and her hands shake. Standing on unsteady legs, she turns back to the wall. 

 

‘We are still Negan’ 

 

A scream tears from her chest as she coats the wall in paint until the wall is dripping red, and she has been covered in a fine red mist. The can rolls out of her hand when she turns, silently crying as she walks back to her room. 

 

Daryl stands with Tara in one of the rooms they're using for storing extra supplies. 

 

“Looks like a few cans and whiskey are gone,” Tara states, flipping a page on her clipboard. Those were the items taken to this room last night, sometime in between a hallway patrol. 

 

“Fuck, can’t make this easy.” He rubs his chin, shutting his eyes for a moment. How did he get stuck behind these goddamn walls? 

 

As if, for once, the universe is listening because he sees her then, the reason he’s within these walls, Pandora. Shock ripples through him at the sight of her. Her face is tear-streaked, and the front of her body is painted in what looks like…blood? 

 

He’s racing towards her, screaming her name and shoving people out of his way as he runs. Stopping her at a landing, he reaches for her, hands on her shoulders. His eyes scan her as he closes the few feet between them, he doesn't smell blood. Her face is slightly swollen, a bruise darkening on her cheek, but no blood. 

 

“Pandora!” He’s almost screaming her name. Pulling his hands away, he finds them sticky with paint. But on her face, he can see the darkening of a bruise on the right side. What the fuck happened. 

 

Blinking, she watches him through dark lashes, “There was a message but I covered it up.” 

 

“Oh, Pandora.” 

 

“Alright, this isn’t news, get back to work!” Arat's voice cuts through the low murmur of conversation from the crowd that seems to have built around them. He can’t imagine what this must look like to anyone on the outside. 

 

He takes her back to their room; they don’t speak, but she clings to his arm, trembling slightly. In their room, he fills the tub in the bathroom with warm water, let Tara lecture him about resources later. Settling Pandora on the toilet he gets down on his knees and takes off her boots.

 

“Do you think I ruined my clothes?” Her question is nothing more than a whisper as she asks it, fingers bunching in the hem of her shirt. 

 

“Naw, we can wash it,” Daryl answers, trying to force a calmness into his voice. Be calm for her he thinks, because he can see she’s on the edge. They have been together too long for him not to see the slight shake in her shoulder, the wild look in her eyes

 

“Come on, get in the water,” he reaches his hand out to help her stand.

 

She does as he asks her, stepping out of her pants without glancing down. He watches her lower herself into the water, a pink tint spreading around her. In silence, he works a cloth over her arms, flakes of red paint falling and melting into the water. Daryl keeps working until there isn't a bit of red on her, and the water is now a light pink.

 

He helps her dry and dress before leading her back to the bed. Then he turns to go clean the bathroom.

 

Pandora swirls the amber liquid in the glass in her hand, it catches the light from the open bathroom door. She tries to think about the last time she had a drink, months maybe? Four months? She hasn’t needed it until now. Sighing, she takes a drink, feeling the fire burn its path down to her belly. 

 

“Where did ya get that?” Daryl asks, standing in front of the open doorway lighting him from behind. 

 

He doesn’t sound upset, but still, her shoulders tighten, an old fear creeping forward, “It was in the kitchen.” A beat of silence, then Daryl turns, flicking the light off and coming to her.

 

It’s not a lie, but it’s not the whole truth. It had definitely been in the kitchen, but it had been hidden. Negan always kept a bottle hidden in the kitchen, just because. The juxtaposition of the situation isn't lost on her. Panic because of Negan's name on the wall, and now, to calm down, she drinks his whiskey. 

 

“We don’t have to stay here, Pan.” Daryl sits beside her, dressed in loose-fitting sweat pants without a shirt, ready for bed. There’s still a water drop clinging to his arms. 

 

She knows he’s right, they don’t have to be here. They can leave; no one would hold it against them or wonder why they would leave and never look back. However, rather than answering him right away, she only takes another drink, letting the thoughts knock around in her head. 

 

“I still want to help these people.” It’s a weak, whispered answer that she gives, then takes another drink. 

 

There’s a worn feeling inside her, like material that’s stretched too thin and is ready to break. The drinking is helping, she can feel it settling her nerves.  

 

“Do you remember when you first found me?” Usually, it’s hard to think about that girl, broken and screaming. Here and now, she’s so far away from that time it doesn’t matter anymore. Despite the fact that she had almost lost her shit, or actually lost it, depending on who you ask. 

 

Beside her, Daryl eases himself into the bed, throwing the covers off but not getting under them. “Like Ah could forget you can throw a right hook.” 

 

Pandora laughs, shoving him slightly with her free hand, “You didn’t give up on me, Dixon, it's something I love about you.” 

 

He doesn’t answer; just reaches for her hand and laces their fingers together. “Ah think Ah get it,” his thumb rubs tiny circles on the side of her hand. “Maybe there's someone like yah here.” 

 

Tears sting her eyes, but they don’t fall. Instead, she finishes her glass, and Daryl is taking it before she has a chance to do it herself. Then he puts an arm around her, kissing the top of her head. 

 

“We need to be smarter about this.” Pandora muses, resting her head on him. “Arat is going to start asking questions, I’ll ask Hunter to do the same to find out more information. We have to find everyone who believes this, or it will never end.”

 

In the shadows beside her, Daryl doesn’t speak, only holds her. She knows why, knows him too well. He hates this plan, he wants to be out of here. Where? It doesn’t matter. He would go anywhere, but he stays for her.  He knows she’s right, too, that they need to pull the weed out from the roots, or they’ll choke the garden.

 

“They ask all the questions, alright? Ah don’t want you near this.” His tone has an edge, this upsets him.

 

Shaking her head slightly, she tilts her face up to look at him, “Daryl, I’m going to do this whether you like it or not, so deal.” 

 

She’s already close to this, finding two messages means this is now her problem. Besides, if she cannot scrub Negan from her brain, she will scrub him from this place instead. 

 

A hmph from him but no further argument, he knows better. The sun had gone down already, it wasn’t quite night yet, so they stayed awake in bed, talking about their plans for the future. 

 

They plan a run at Pandora’s suggestion as an opportunity to take some people out and learn to hunt. Daryl agrees about the run but not teaching anyone until Pandora reminds him that if she can learn, anyone can, which shuts him up.

 

The need to reach for the whiskey is gone and there's a light feeling in her chest when they finally doze off together. 

Chapter 67

Notes:

Next update will take roughly two weeks, maybe more ep sorry. Forever grateful to my beta reader.

Chapter 64 Salt the Earth 

Over the next week, the ground is tended to lovingly by Hunter and a group he got together. They turn the soil and go out with trucks to get more until there are rich, dark-looking mounds. They take some of the healthier plants from the rooftop greenhouse and transplant them here. 

 

Every day, just as the sun has finished coming up, Pandora is out there between the neatly spaced rows of plants. She waters and tends to the growing plants under Hunter’s watchful eye. 

 

They don’t see another message for the entire week, and Pandora finds peace in the new routine with Daryl quickly. They spend the evenings together, and the moment the sun sets, they head back to their room and shut the door. A sense of domestic bliss takes over the moment they begin to cook and relax for the evening. She cherishes these nights the most.

 

On the day when Pandora’s nightmares keep her awake, she kisses a half-asleep Daryl as she slips out of the room on tiptoes. When she gets to the garden, the sun isn’t even up yet, but she can already tell it's going to be unseasonably warm, which will be great for the plants. Full watering can in each hand, she heads to the first opening, only to stop dead in her tracks, watering cans falling to the ground with a thud beside her. 

 

The ground below where she had planted tomato plants was dead and withered, a white powder glittering against the soil. Unthinking, she jumps into the plants, getting on her knees in the soil. With shaking fingers, she sinks them into the dirt, coming away with some in her cupped hands. Lifting the soil to her nose, she takes a deep breath, smelling the unmistakable scent of salt. 

 

Her heart drops, tears collecting in her eyes, a deliberate, ancient curse. Salting the earth to kill whatever is growing and to send the message that nothing will grow here again. 

 

“Fuck,” she chokes out, her voice a broken whisper. 

 

Sometime later, when the sun is heating the back of her neck, Hunter, Arat, and the others find her, knees in the dirt still. A shadow cuts across her vision when Pandora glances up at Hunter, his hand reaching out for her. Pandora watches his arm flex as he lifts her out of the hole. 

 

“Someone did this on purpose, they wanted to send a message.” Pandora hisses the words out through clenched teeth. Standing outside the hole now, she dusts her pants off as much as she can to hide the shaking in her hands. 

 

Hunter dusts his hands off his pants, rocking back on his heels, but he stays silent. The men around them disperse, off to whisper the news in dark corners. Dread coils in her chest, making it hard to breathe fully. 

 

“There are whispers about how things were better with Negan,” Arat mumbles as if it pains her to say those words. 

 

Pandora can't help but let out a choked laugh, “This was one of Negan’s plans from his notebooks.” There is no reason why she tells them this, but she feels the need to say something. To let go of the burdens she is carrying even if it’s not the whole truth. 

 

“Fuck.” Arat blows out a long breath and steadies herself behind Pandora.

 

“Spread the word that I believe it to, whatever they are saying.” The words burn like bile in her throat, but she gets them out, sounding stronger than she feels. “We have to root them out.” 

 

Even if this plan is from Negan, she thinks to herself bitterly. But she doesn’t say that out loud. This was how he found all the men Simon was plotting with but rooted them out. She would try and do the same. 

 

Arat speaks first, breaking the silence like glass, “And Daryl?” she questions hesitantly.  

 

“We can’t tell him, not yet.” Pandora knows he won’t approve if she is going to do this, she is going to ask for forgiveness, not permission. She will tell him, of course, nothing can stay secret between them forever, but she needs a little time.

 

Both Hunter and Arat sigh with unease, but they don’t say anything else. Their loyalty is to her first because of the strange circumstances of the situation they found themselves in. 

 

“If we hear anything, we will come to you.” It's Arat who gives the parting words before two pairs of footsteps depart. Then, they are both gone, leaving Pandora standing over her ruined project. 

 

For a while, she simply stands there and cries fat tears down her cheeks. All she wanted to do was make this place better. She’s suddenly tired and all she wants to do is be with Daryl, so off she goes. 

 

She finds Daryl in what used to be the boardroom, their new command centre. Silently, she steps beside him, reaching for his hand, tangling her fingers in his own. Daryl glances down at her, concern flickering in his gaze rippling across her face.

 

He must find what he needs in her face because he pulls her away gently into the corner and leans down, lips close to her ear, “ What’s wrong?” His voice is soft, ensuring no one else can hear them. 

 

Pandora can’t find the words to answer him. Instead, her mouth opens and closes uselessly. Tears begin to pool in her eyes, both from not being able to answer him and from what happened this morning. Still, she doesn’t answer him, only tightening her grip on his fingers.

 

Daryl sighs, leaning down, and presses his lips to her own in a quick, soft kiss, headless of the eyes on them. Reaching into his pocket, he uses the bandana to wipe her eyes with soft strokes down her cheeks. Then, he goes back to the conversation he was having with Laura before she came in. 

 

Pandora shadows him like a silent ghost for the rest of the day, drifting from meeting to meeting. He meets with Laura, then Tara. Someone always needs to talk to him, it seems.  Some time in the afternoon he forces her to eat something, no longer demanding she speaks. 

 

It’s not until the end of the night, when they are tangled together in bed, that he whispers to her in the darkness. “What happened, Pandora?”

 

Resting her head against his chest, she feels the hot tears falling down her cheeks. Her stomach twists painfully, remembering the smell of the salt and the look of the dead plants. “Someone killed the garden, salted the ground.” 

 

That is something she knows from school, her major had been history, after all. War and famine were a big part of history. How someone else knew this, she couldn’t begin to know. 

 

There is silence between them in the darkness, Daryl holds her just a little tighter before he speaks. 

 

“Shit, Ahm sorry.” He kisses the side of her head in the darkness, resting his chin on her head. 

 

“We have to take people out, teach them to hunt and gather food.” There is an unspoken sentence between them. She also needs to get out, needs to get out from behind these walls, if not just for a few days or even a few hours. 

 

“Of course, we can get 'em ready in a few days.”

 

Against his chest, Pandora rubs at her eyes, willing herself to stop crying. Her chest aches, and for a moment, she considers asking Daryl to take her away from here. Pack their things, leave, and never look back. Leave these people to their fate. 

 

"I'm sorry I'm such a fucking mess,” she mumbles the sentence into his warm, bare chest. 

 

"Hey, hey," he tries to look into her eyes, but she pulls her chin down out of his grasp. Needing a moment to collect herself, she breathes in through her nose and out through her mouth. His warm fingers tangle in her hair at the base of her neck drawing circles with his thumb.

 

There is a cold feeling of guilt in her gut that she wouldn't tell him about what she was planning, not yet. It might be nothing, so why tell him before there was anything to tell? 

 

Silently, she cries a bit longer until she feels his fingers under her chin a second time—this time, she lets him turn her face up to him. Without a word, he kisses her, one thumb wiping at the tears on her cheek. 

 

Pandora sighs, leaning into him, her mouth opens only slightly, it’s all he needs. His tongue darts out to taste her own, licking the inside of her mouth, grounding her, and lighting the desire in her stomach. 

 

Daryl breaks away, and blue eyes roam her face, darkening slightly with desire. Pandora watches his mouth still slightly agape and an ache starts in her chest.

 

“Go to sleep, we leave here in two days, this was your idea.” Daryl makes no other move to touch her, only collects her against his chest and covers them both. 

 

Two days pass and they have a group ready and gathered by the front entrance just as the sun rises. Pandora has her hair braided, not as well as Nablia had it but as neat as she can manage. The bag on her back is packed with everything she might need for a night out in the wild, not that they intended to be out that long, it was just in case. 

 

Daryl speaks with Laura near the front of their group of about fifteen, heads bent together as they speak in quick words. Most of them have never had the opportunity to be outside before, forced to work within the walls for the bare minimum. There is Daryl, Laura, Pandora herself, and three other guards whose names she doesn’t know. 

 

Lounging on the back of Daryl’s bike, she waits for him, feeling better than she has felt in days. When he finally comes to her side, he kisses her on the cheek before getting on the bike and heading off. 

 

They don’t ride for long, only a few hours, then they stop and leave all their vehicles on the side of the road. Two people stay behind to keep an eye on their assortment of vehicles. 

 

As silently as they can, the group moves through the woods together. Daryl points out what they should be looking for, broken twigs, fur, footprints. The people who chose to come out with them follow Daryl with rapt attention, hanging on his every word. These are lessons Pandora has already had before, days and days of the two of them being in the woods together. 

 

Standing here with what used to be Negan’s people, those days in Alexandria seem like a lifetime ago. Now, Pandora watches Daryl, a smile tugging at her lips, they are two completely different people. He is good at this, their reluctant leader. 

 

It takes them a few hours to find something, but it’s worth the wait. Daryl tracks a herd of deer, there are four more than he has seen around in a while. The four of them are so wrapped up in whatever they are eating they don’t notice when the humans surround them.  Silently, the group fans out, they have to all act together, or they will lose them. This is risky, a single sound could spook the herd away. 

 

Usually, they want to do things silently, but this much food is too good to take any chances. Some of the group stand with their backs to them, weapons out and watching for the dead. Daryl readies his bow, and others ready their guns. On his count, they all shoot. The sounds of shots ring through the air, but all four of the animals drop, and someone cheers. 

 

Pandora, who has been standing at the back of the group, is the first to hear the sounds. It's nothing more than the crack of a twig that makes her head snap to the side. She scans the tree line with a sharp gaze.

 

“The dead are coming.” Her voice rings out around them, not a shout but loud enough that everyone will hear her. 

 

Daryl is at her side in a second while still directing the group. “Get them deers strung up, we’re getting out of here.” 

 

Pandora isn’t looking at him or at the others as she watches the tree line still. Right there between two tall trees, she can see something moving. A stumbling shape comes through the trees, too close to make her feel comfortable. Unthinking, there is a knife in her hand, and she moves away from him.

 

Stumbling towards her is a thing that used to be a woman. The skin hangs off, rotting away, showing bones, knarled fingers reaching for her.

 

There is no hesitation when she plunges her knife into the soft rotting skull, the dead thing drops in front of her. Another sound to her right, and Pandora spins. The knife plunges up into the soft skin under into chin of another of the waling dead, and it crumbles. Adrenaline courses through her, a smile spreading over her lips. 

 

 Something pulls at her arm, spinning as she has her knife to Daryl’s throat; he catches her just before the blade parts his skin. 

 

“Fuck.” Shaking, she lowers her arm. Times like this she was grateful Daryl had always been faster than her.

 

“Behind me.” He bites out, trying to keep his temper in check.

 

Pandora does as she is told, hearing the sounds of more coming towards them. Her fingers inch to spring forward, and her grip tightens and loosens on the knife. She knows better, though, she doesn’t move from behind Daryl. Daryl fires two arrows, and behind him, Laurel moves, taking out two more, and then it's over. 

 

“Pandora, yah know better.” Daryl grips her upper arm, not enough to hurt but enough that she looks at his cheeks flushed with shame. He’s turned toward her now she must have zoned out, a hand on her upper arm facing inches from her. 

 

“I’m sorry.” She mumbles, shame choking her throat for a moment. 

 

Daryl only shakes his head, shifts his grip to her hand, and begins taking her back through the woods. She lets him feel the shame twisting her gut. She had done well, but she had scared him. 

 

The way back is much faster, they divide the deer, acorns, and mushrooms they have found. Turns out, the clearing had been a great place for wild food; hence the deer being so calm. Daryl doesn’t say much to her on their way back, and she can tell they will talk about this later. 

 

All the thoughts of their tension are gone the moment they step through the main doors. Cheers erupt from the on-lookers gathered, it had been a while since they had seen this much food. She hears Daryl’s name called on the crowd and her own a few times, the energy is palpable.

 

Once the energy has died down and Daryl has divided the new tasks to be done. The moment no one needs him, Daryl tugs them both down a dark hallway toward their room. 

 

The moment the door closes, Daryl presses her against his body and the door, slipping up her shirt to feel her skin. Pandora gasps, pressing herself further into him, his fingers going to tangle in his hair. His mouth is on her neck, and the slight press of teeth makes her gasp. 

 

As if that sound reminds Daryl of her mouth, his head shoots up, lips catching her in a crushing kiss. His legs press between hers, a wonderful pressure growing in her center. There isn’t a battle of tongues this time as Pandora becomes liquid in his arms, letting him control his exploration of her mouth. 

 

Gasping apart, they take a moment to catch their breath, but they don’t untangle themselves.  

 

“Ah should be mad at yah.” His actions say something different as his hands run up and down her back tracing her spine and leaving goose bumps in their wake. “But ya looked so god damn beautiful out there and just now.” 

 

His mouth finds her neck, and Pandora tries to resist the urge to wrap her legs around his waist to bring him closer. Instead, she brings her lips to his ear, “Shower. Let’s go.”  

Chapter 68: This is an offering Chapter 65

Notes:

This still lives in , my head rent free and when I get writer's block from my original work I come here.

Things are calm for the next few days; people are more tolerant when they are no longer hungry. The sense of awe around her and Daryl sticks for those days. People stop her in the hallways to thank her, after the first day Pandora takes to sneaking around out of sight for the most part. The attention makes her deeply uncomfortable; it feels too much like when she was at Negan's side.

One morning, Daryl is going to head out on a scouting trip with Laura to check out an outpost and see if there's anything else there. He had asked her to come, of course, she had turned him down. Pandora would be lying if she said she was at ease in Laura's company; their interactions always have an uncurrent of tension. it's better, she decides to let them go alone.

It's hard knowing it will mean she is alone for a few days.

The morning he’s to leave finds them in bed early morning sweating and tangled in their sheets as she kisses him goodbye.

“Yeah sure about this? It could be a few days.” Daryl lays on his side an arm tucked under his head, the other rubbing her arm.

 

“Ya, it's only a few days.” the words are muttered into his chest.

Daryl threads his fingers through the dark waves of hair at the base of her neck. He gives her head a gentle tug upward; she allows it to go into his arms. Wordless he closes his mouth over hers in a slow deep kiss. Pandora opens her mouth to him tongue darting out to taste him.

Daryl groans pulling her a little bit closer, one leg pressing itself between her tights seeking her heat. She can feel the hardness of her cock between them, pressing against her leg and making her ache.

His teeth find her bottom lip nipping at her gently before breaking the kiss leaving them both gasping. In her chest her heart beats wildly Pandora presses her hand to his chest feeling the tripping beat of his heart under her palm. She wishes he didn't break away from her, she wants him to take her now before he leaves. Let him leave with the ghost of his fingers on her skin.

“Ah don’t think Ah want to leave yah,” Daryl whispers into her air, making no move to sate her desire.

Something in her chest cracks and the world in front of her becomes blurry from the tears. Pandora doesn’t let him see it; instead, she presses her cheek to her chest still listening to his heartbeat.

“It’s not good for both of us to be gone at the same time.” It’s not and they know it. They had brought back food that had helped but there was still an undercurrent of tension.

“Two nights that's it, Ah swear.”

Nodding her head she pressed against him she was silent trying to calm the tripping desire in her stomach. They lay in bed a while longer just breathing and holding each other. Until he kisses her again, shiting to stand from the bed.

From her place in the sheets, she watches Daryl move around the room and collect his things, shoving clothes and weapons into a black bag in his back.

“Two nights?” She questions again, hands ringing the blanket pulled up to her chin.

With a strap of the bag over his shoulder Daryl turns towards her concern glinting in his gaze. “Pandora pack a bag, come with me.”

A smile ghosts her lips but she shakes her head, she will do this thing she will wait here. “No, I don’t have the stomach for the outside.” She doesn’t have the stomach for it or the head, let her stay here and wait.

 

It's ten minutes after Daryl has cleared the gate that there's a sharp rap on her door. Pulling a shirt over her head, she opens it to find Arat standing there. A sag in her shoulders altered Arat’s usual confident stance, her face a shade paler than normal.

“What is it?” Pandora questions, a sharpness in her voice.

Arat only sidesteps nervously past Pandora entering the room, shutting the door behind her.

“This slipped under my door last night,” Arat says in a whisper, turning and thrusting a piece of paper into her hands.

Hazel eyes flicker over the page as Pandora reads silently, 'Two nights from now, meet at tower 5, we want to hear about the Princess.'

Trembling, she folds up the bit of paper in one hand and heads for the bedroom without another word. Coming back, Pandora holds a lighter to the edge of the paper, watching the flames catch and lick at it. When it gets too close to her fingers, she simply drops it in the sink, running water to put it out and force the ashes down the drain.

“Pandora, this is so goddamn dangerous.” Arat finally breathes into the silence that is between them.

It is; she knows it but she can't see another way around this. “Tell me something else we can do, then,” she pleads, shutting her eyes. She will do anything else; if there is a chance they can stop this another way, she will do it.

A beat of silence, then a defeated, “No.”

Pandora sucks in her breath, curling her hands into fists. “Then you go; that's in what, one night? Tell them anything they need to know.” Turning, she faces Arat, her hand reaching for her arms. “You be safe, and I will be safe, okay?”

Arat scoffs, “You and safety are not two things I think of together.”

Pandora can’t help but laugh a sharp bitter sound, “Then I guess teach me better self-defence.”

 

In the afternoon after working out with Arat Pandora tries not to think about how this feels like before as she shuts herself up in their room. Pulling out the notebooks from the back of her drawer Pandora goes through the ones she saved from Negan. Killing men is no problem, that is something she is used to. It is a matter of finding the men she needs to kill all at once that bothers her.

In the days after she had opened the door the room had been raided; whatever supplies they had in there had been divided among the group. It hadn’t bothered her, rather she had been ready to throw her lavish items at anyone who would take them. Expect whatever they had hidden, some pills for Pandora, two bottles of whiskey, a jacket, and well the books.

Now she sits on the sofa flipping through one of Negan's journals, here he writes about Simon and his attempted revolt. She reads his plans, roots out the weeds, finds everyone who supports him and kills them. Pandora wonders how she can do this now.

Arat will go to the meeting and tell them anything they need to hear then she will ask to meet them. Fear tightens in her gut and for a long moment, she sits frozen on the page.

“That’s enough.” She tells herself out loud, shutting the book. Tucking it back in her hideaway Pandora pours herself a mug of whiskey to keep her company in the dark.

 

Pandora doesn't sleep that night when she tries to lie down there is nothing but death behind her eyes. Tonight alone in the bed she dreams about the wolves holding her down in the woods. Through the long hours of darkness, there isn’t another moment of sleep to find she lays there until the sun begins to kiss the skyline.

The second Pandora thinks it is an acceptable hour to be up she creeps from bed and gets dressed. One more night she tells herself in the bathroom mirror while she pulls her hair into a braid. She can do one more night, there is a second bottle of whiskey under the sink that Daryl doesn’t know about.

The main floor of the Sanctuary is still quiet in the early dawn hours, a few people wonder about speaking in low murmurs. The most sound comes from the main kitchen, Pandora follows the smell of food and raised voices. This is the room with the most life at this time, six people bustle around the long room.

A woman stirs a pot over a fire, beside her a man cuts fruit throwing the scraps in a bowl beside him. There is a long wooden table where the choices for breakfast are laid out, its oatmeal with an assortment of fresh add-ons. Pandora helps herself to a bowl topping it with the rare bit of fresh apple from Hilltop. With a steaming bowl in her hands, she comes face to face with a teen boy.

The flush on his face creeps up to his hair line but he still manages to hand her the glass mason jar of clear liquid. “Water.” he stammers before turning and darting behind her.

Pandora stands dumb-struck for a second before a chuckle sounds from the doorway out. “Going to have that kid stuttering all day Pandora.” Ron stands in the door with a wide grin splitting his face.

It's been weeks since she had seen him, he had been sent to check further out an old outpost that might have people there. She hadn’t known he was back today, our last night maybe? She had hidden away most of the day so how would she have known anything?

"Welcome back” Pandora smiles, closing the distance between them. “I didn’t say anything to that kid.”

Ron laughs again, holding out his elbow for her to loop her arm in, which she does and he leads her back to the room she shares with Daryl. “You didn’t need to, you're almost royalty around here.”

His choice of words leaves a stone sinking in Pandora’s gut, in her head she can hear Negan calling her Princess.

“People really think that?” She questions climbing the stairs at his side.

“People talk about you, about before with Negan, and now with Daryl. They know you care about this place.”

Pandora is silent as they walk the rest of the way, she cares about these people who are just as trapped as she was. It’s not the Sanctuary she cares about, it's the people who were all just as trapped as she was. “I care about these people, this is just a building.”

“See you say shit like that in here then wonder why they talk.” There is humour in his voice as he shakes his head.

Before long they are at her door and Ron is holding it open for her. However, as she steps inside he follows her letting the door shut with a soft click. Pandora steps back a few steps placing the jar of water on the table.

“What is it?” She questions the unease in her voice bringing the bowl to her mouth.

“Arat told me what's going on, I’m going with her tomorrow night.” The tone is his voice has chances gone is the light-hearted young man from the hallway. A beat of silence “This is stupid.”

“You sound like Arat,” Pandora mutters, taking a spoonful of rapidly cooling oatmeal to her mouth.

“Daryl’s gone do you think that's a fucking accident?” His tone is sharper and more demanding.

She flinches eating another spoonful, that was something she had not thought of. “I’m not going with Arat,” She muttered weakly, turning her back to him as she headed for the sofa, lowering herself onto it. “I don't even want to leave this room when he isn’t here you think I want to go to late night rebellion meetings?”

Grasping for a lightness she doesn't feel Pandora tries to smile at him, it fails when she meets his eyes. There is concern there.

“Then don't be ok? Stay up here like before I’ll get that star-struck kid to bring you food.” Ron runs a hand over his brown buzz cut, he looks suddenly tired. “Promise?”

Pandora stands leaving the bowl on the sofa and closing the distance between them. Wrapping her arms around him she mumbles her thanks and promises to do what he asks. Caught off guard it takes Ron a second to hug her back, muttering that she is going to give him greys.

She does as she is told for the rest of the day, staying in her bed and reading a hunting book Daryl found for her. More and more she wanted to be out there, to see what was left of the world. She reads every hunting and survival book she can get her hands on, amassing knowledge as the days pass.

At some point when the sun has passed over the large window in the room there is a knock on the door. Pandora opens it to find the same boy from this morning just as Ron has promised, but he is holding a crate full of food. Before she can even thank him he drops it and sprints down the hallway, she yells her thanks after him and takes the food inside.

It's a fresh lunch and ingredients to cook more of her food. The small kitchen that has been here hadn't changed, the was still fully powered but the fridge has been taken out and added to the larger kitchen. Nothing she has been given needs to be cold, alright she doesn’t have to leave here.

That night she sleeps more peacefully, whether it's knowing Ron is back or that Daryl will be back tomorrow Pandora gets a few hours of nightmare-free sleep.

When she gets up before dawn Pandora takes the chance to sneak out to the gym and let her work off this nervous energy before anyone else is awake. As she moves down the hall dressed and ready there is the sound of hushed voices. Anxiety prickles in her chest but she slows her steps closing the distance until she can make out the words.

“Tonight?”

“Ya sub-level.”

Another step of steps behind her, she's trapped. Shutting her eyes she thinks. Neither party knows she is here yet. Squaring her shoulders she takes a few silent steps backwards when she feels far enough she allows her shoes to scuff against the floor. Not loudly but enough to let the men know she is heading for them.

She tries not to look as she passes them, but when one of them says good morning she looks up. A flash of recognition filters through her brain when she looks at him, she has seen him before with Negan. Pandora doesn’t answer the silence typical for her thankfully as she slips down the hallway heading for the workout room.

Hands shaking Pandora tries to open the door only to curse and turn the other way. Fuck this she will wait for Darly outside he could be back any moment and she needed to be the first to know. Heading to the stairwell Pandora takes the steps two at a time as she heads for the roof.

It is busy up there already but no one looks at her twice when she heads for the only chair under the glass. It's just for her, pressed as close to the glass as it could go. It's where she finds herself when her head is too loud. Now Pandora tucks her legs under her watching and listening for any sign of Daryl.

Sometimes when the sun is hot overhead someone brings her something to eat, but Pandora doesn’t touch it. The dread coiling in her gut makes sure there is no room for food, it grows as each hour passes. Daryl had said two nights and now a third night alone is creeping towards her.

“Pandora?” A hand touches her shoulder pulling her from the depth of her thoughts.

Pandora jumps head whipping around, her brain knows it's now possible; but she hopes that it's Daryl. Instead, Arat stands in front of her one hand shoved into her pocket.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to scare you,” Arat says, shoving both hands in her pocket. “Wanted to make sure you ate something, and to check in on you.”

Despair choked her for a second, “He’s not coming back tonight is he?” There is no reason why Arat would have the answer to that question but Panaodra asks it anyway just needing to hear it. The other women sighed sadness ghosting over his face.

Arat reached out taking her shoulder and reading her towards the door, “I don’t think, so we know what it’s like out there nothing goes according to plan”

Pandora’s guts twists again painfully but she allows herself to be led back inside and back to her room.

Arat stays with her for hours, having dinner playing cards and talking. It’s nice not to be alone, the painful worry over Daryl doesn't consume her as much with someone else here. Hours pass with them together darkness falling outside.

When Pandora has lost her third game of blackjack in a row Arat stands and stretches her arms above her head, “I better get going, the meeting is tonight.”

Right, another stone in her gut Pandora collects the cards with trembling hands keeping her eyes down. “Be careful?”

“Always, lock the door behind me.” That is all the goodbye she gets then Arat is gone shutting the door behind her footsteps trailing down the hall.

Pandora is alone again, and she hates it. So she goes to her hiding spot and pours herself a glass of amber liquid. Taking the bottle and her cup to the sofa Pandora twists so she is looking outside. This was the best window to see anyone coming, since this had become her room Daryl made sure to leave and return from the back door so she would be the first to see.

This is where she waits as close to the window as the safe allows her. Her head swims with the drink, and she thinks back to this afternoon. Despite everything that was going on Arat came and found her ensuring she was fed and back in her room, all while planning on going to a secret meeting. More and more she wanted to leave, wanted to go back to where she was not counted on how much. In Alexandria, they were there when needed but Rick led them and made the hard choices just like Negan had.

That thought has ice running through her veins, comparing Rick to Negan is a dangerous game she should not be playing alone. Instead, she pours herself another glass and tries to go back to watching the road outside her window.

Pandora must have fallen asleep sometime in the darkest hours because she wakes up to the bright cutting light from the window. She is still on the sofa, her glass empty on the table and the bottle beside it looking more empty than she remembers from last night. Her mouth tasted terrible, the whiskey clinging to her dry tongue. Standing, she heads for the bathroom, coming out a few moments later feeling more human than she did before. Washed, dressed and her hair hanging loose down her back she feels less hung over.

It’s still early and she knows she should stay in this room but the walls are beginning to make her feel trapped. So she leaves, flinging the door open and heading for a small rooftop she knew would have no one on it, a place filled with potted plants and little room for people. It’s there she goes feeling the early morning sun on the small bits of exposed skin on her shoulders.

It’s another hour, maybe two before she hears the roar of Daryl’s bike in the distance. Tears spring to her eyes the moment the sound reaches her, Pandora scrambles to her feet nearly tripping over herself. Her hands shake attempting to open the door handle as the sound grows closer. Once inside she takes the steps down two at a time almost tripping over her feet again.

There are too many bodies in her way as she tries to make it out of the back parking lot. Cursing she shoves those who do not move fast enough out of her way, no one protests. Once outside the afternoon sun blinds her for a moment and she stumbles to a stop waiting for her eyes to adjust. Her brain stops and starts trying to make sense of what is coming towards her.

Daryl is leading a group, a group that he did not leave with. Behind him there was a car, it beat up the blue colour it once had faded with time. Laura was behind them bringing up the rear, a small figure hunched in the front of her bike. There are other people with them, where the fuck did they find people? Strangers, she whispers one hand fluttering to her throat.

In the lead, Daryl stops his bike roughly fifteen feet away from the small group forming behind her. From this distance, she can now see that his mouth is covered with his red bandana. Confusion muddles her thoughts, but she steps closer, beginning to close the distance between them.

“PANDORA STAY THERE!” Daryl's voice cuts clearly through the air and stops her right in her tracks his tone sharp with fear.

Moments pass as she watches people get out of the car, they lean on each other skinny and sick-looking. Fear makes her hands cold, these people look sick. A sickness could devastate them. Opening and closing her fists she keeps watching as the people are led inside through a side and Daryl comes to her.

Keeping some distance he says, “Ah need to shower and change before I see you.”

“Those people are sick.” It isn't a question.

Daryl only nods and heads back inside.

Chapter 69: Chapter 66 Who made you like this?

Notes:

Merry Christmas ya filthy animals

Chapter 66 Who made you like this?

Hours later Pandora and Daryl are finally alone in their room, Daryl has showered and is wearing fresh clothes, the ones he was wearing now smoking in the trash bin. They would not take a single chance.

His hair is wet hanging down in front of his eyes as they kiss. Pandora runs her fingers through his wet strands as she sits on his lap.

Daryl had tried to be the voice of reason when he had first come into the room explaining the new people might have infected him as well. She did not want to hear any of it, only threw herself into his arms and kissed him furiously. That was the end of that argument, if he was sick she was sick.

“You said two nights,” Pandora whispers now against his lips when they finally break apart to gasp for air.

Daryl chuckles, nipping her bottom lip, hands flexing against her hips as he pulls her closer, “ Ah didn't think Ah would find anyone out there.”

“Next time,” She whispers “I’m coming with you.” Pandora feels desire sparking in her belly as she presses herself closer to him. Three nights is too long to be apart.

Daryl captures her mouth again, Pandora groans against him rubbing her core against his hardening cock. His control is thin but still there only his fingers tighten on her ass again when she grinds a second time.

Breaking the kiss he nips her neck making her gasp, “Not if my welcome is like this yah ain’t.”

His left-hand moves seeking her cunt through the tights she’s wearing. Hissing through his teeth he finds her wet even through the polyester material of her pants. she gasps trying to press herself into his touch.

“Ah missed yah.” Daryl moves his mouth to his neck inhaling the smell of her, his fingers sliding up and down her covered entrance making her gasp.

“Don’t leave again,” Pandora pants above him, her head tilted back, eyes closed. “God don’t stop”

Daryl‘s laugh rumbles in his chest as he kisses her neck again biting her softly, he won’t. Instead, he increases the pressure of his fingers, resisting the urge to tear through the fabric to enter her. In a fluid movement, he stands lifting them both from the sofa, he has to move his hands causing Pandora to whine at the loss of pleasure.

“Hey.” She breathes trying to kiss him again Daryl laughs and dodges her mouth. He can feel her searching for her fingers again.

“Not yet greedy,” Daryl whispers, taking her to the bedroom. Laying her down gently his hands find the waistband of her tights. Teasing her he tugs them down slowly trailing kisses on all the exposed skin he can find. Under him, Pandora breathes heavily, thrusting her torso up to meet his mouth, her fingers tangled in the still-wet strands of his hair.

Making his way down he lets his warm breath fan over the wetness of her cunt, she isn't wearing underwear and he couldn’t be happier. Under him she’s panting, lifting off the bed slightly, his hand pressing her down mouth travelling to the hot v between her legs. Sighing he licks her entrance earning a cry from the beautiful woman under him.

He is careful, slow and steady building the pleasure. When she whispers his name he takes her clit into his mouth and sucks causing her hips to buck against him.

“Oh fuck Daryl.” Pandora breathes nails in one hand biting on the skin on his shoulder.

Daryl chuckles against her cunt feeling her stiffen at the vibration it must have caused. He doesn't stop and continues to suck and lick until Pandora is stiff and screaming his name under his mouth. He doesn't want to stop, instead, he laps at her savouring the taste, weakly her hand pushes his head away from her.

Daryl laughs again but he does what she wants crawling up her body while licking his lips. Pandora is beautiful like this, face flush legs spread for him. A limp hand waves at him, calling him up to her.

“Yah are so beautiful.”

“Come here,” Pandora commands, propping herself up on her elbow bare from the waist down.

Daryl kisses her hard, tasting her mouth and her orgasm on his tongue. He tries to keep his desire leashed not wanting to scare her or push her too far. His hands run down her sides, tongue exploring her mouth.

Pandora has different ideas: one of her hands trails down his waist until she is gripping his rock-hard cock. Groaning into her mouth he can't help but thrust into her warm palm.

“Please,” She breathes against his mouth, breaking the kiss.

Daryl groans right hand tangling in her hair he pulls at her gently exposing her neck to him, and he trails kisses down her neck. However, Pandora is impatient and pumps his cock with her closed hand leaving him grinding his teeth. His control snaps when she lifts her leg around his waist positioning the head of his cock against her entrance.

With a flick of her hips, Pandora fits the head of his cock into her entrance, hands gripping her hips he pushes into her slowly. Slowly he turns them both until she is under him, his coc fully inside her. Under him now Pandora watches him with wide eyes forming a perfect O.

Under him Pandora shifts her hips making them both gasp at the new angle, she is so tight. Leaning down he grips the side of her face kissing her deeply while slowly pumping in and out of her. Daryl swallows all of the little sounds she makes as he fucks her, slow and steady. Slipping out he pushes back inside her faster this time making Pandora cry out into his mouth. He breaks the kiss if only to hear more of those goddamn sounds.

“Again” She whines, heels digging into his back urging him deeper. He can’t help but do as she asks, especially when she is naked under him. Pandora begins to grind against him in time making his balls tighten. Thrust and thrust she meets him until she is panting and breathless. Reaching down between her legs Daryl rubs a circle on her clit.

Pandora comes apart under him at that touch, shutting her eyes and gasping out a string of curses around his name. He follows her into his orgasm not long after her cunt squeezes him so tight he swears he can see stars as he cums inside of her. Pandora cries out again grinding harder and Daryl can't help but fuck her harder as his orgasm ebbs loving the feeling of her tight cunt around him.

The silence of the room is now only punctuated by the sound of their breathing. Pandora sighs letting her legs fall from Daryl's waist sinking deeper into the mattress under him. “Come here,” She whispers, using one arm to tug him down towards her.

Daryl does as she asks, slipping out of her and pulling her into his arms now lying on his back. There is a sense of loss without his cock inside her, but he holds her so tightly it makes up for it. As they lie there he tells her what happens. They spend the rest of the day together there in bed until they fall asleep.

The bliss of having him back is shattered when Pandora wakes up some hours later to an empty bed. Laying there in the darkness Pandora rubs her eyes straining to listen in the darkness. She hears it then the sound of Daryl throwing up in the bathroom.

“Fuck,” She whispers cold feet hitting the floor and padding to the bathroom where she knows she will find Daryl. Dread coils in her gut when she opens the door to Daryl's form hunched over the toilet bowl.

He’s leaning over into the toilet hair hiding his face in sweat-soaked strands plastered to his forehead. Pandora reaches into the drawer for a hair tie to get the hair out of his face. Daryl mutters something to her, but he is wracked by another fit of vomiting unable to finish. She only moves to make him more comfortable, knowing the words likely to come out of his mouth are for her to keep her distance.

She would ignore him. Kissing the top of his head she marks the pale colour of his skin as she heads to the kitchen. Time for liquids, she thinks of filling a mug with water and bringing it to him along with a blanket to throw over his shoulders. She also didn't miss the cold sweat collecting on his forehead.

Back in the washroom, Daryl has stopped throwing up; he now leans on his arm slung over the toilet bowl. Throwing the blanket over his shoulders she helps him back to the bed, rather than leave him on the cold floor.

“Yah shouldn’t be this close to me.” He rasps from the bed leaving his eyes shut. There are dark circles under his eyes that were not there when he got back. Pandora worries over him moving a strand of hair from his face.

“If I get sick now it’s out of our hands.” She mutters tucking the blankets around him, pressing the back of her hand so she can feel the warmth coming from him. A fever she thinks bitterly as if the vomiting was not bad enough.

In the small kitchen, Pandora finds tea and heats the water on the stove trying not to notice how her hands shake as she does so. Her mind races with the things she needs to do. As the water boils she heads to the door pulling it open.

No one is there and for once Pandora hates it. Down the hall, she catches a figure moving through the hall and she calls out to them.

“I need you to do something for me,” Pandora asks, keeping as much space as possible between her and the woman standing shocked in the hall. “Can you bring Arat, Hunter or Ron here? Or anyone in charge.”

The wide-eyed woman nods her head and hurries down the hall.

Ten minutes later there is a knock on her door and a sleepy-looking Hunter is standing there blinking at her.

“Princess?”

The name hits her like a slap and she tries to cover it for Hunter’s sake he looks half asleep. It does feel like the days under Negan calling for someone to bring her something in the dead of night.

“Hunter!” Her tone is sharper than she means it to be. “Daryl is sick and so will anyone who was around the new people. I need you to make sure they are quarantined.”

Hunter blinks a few times and rubs his eyes, “Daryl’s sick.”

Pandora sighs counting to ten in her head trying not to raise her voice or lose her patience with her friend, “Yes and so will Lauren so go get her bring her here then make sure everyone else stays put.”

Finally, something clicks in his head and Hunter nods, turning to leave his steps hurriedly echoing down the hall. Pandora sighs and waits for someone to bring her second patient.

Chapter 70: Chapter 67 Down with the sickness

Chapter 67: Down with the Sickness
Two days passed with Pandora playing nurse for both Daryl and Lauren. Following the advice of the other women, she did her best to keep them stable. Yet, in the quiet moments, she found herself panicking in the bathroom, biting her hand to stifle her sobs. The fear that Daryl might die gnawed at her relentlessly.
On the second day, while Daryl was asleep, Arat came to her. Slipping into the room, she shared news of a meeting she had attended. It involved three men, all eager to hear that the “Princess” was still with Negan. They hadn’t revealed much—only that plans were forming, and they remained loyal to Negan.
In the hallway, Pandora whispered harshly, “If they want to meet, I’ll go. I need to know.”
Arat pressed her fingers to her temples, shaking her head. “This isn’t what we talked about.”
“None of this is!” Pandora’s voice cracked as she thought of Daryl, even now lying pale and vulnerable in their bed. “If Daryl’s in danger, I need to help. Please.”
Arat sighed heavily. “I’ll tell them. But I’m coming with you—that’s not up for debate. I’m already involved.”
Pandora flung her arms around Arat, hugging tightly before stepping back with tears in her eyes. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I should get back to them. How are the others holding up?”
“We lost two last night,” Arat replied, scrubbing her hands over her face. “A kid and an older man.”
Pandora swore under her breath, anxiety flaring again despite her rational mind telling her that Daryl was stronger than most.
“You focus on Daryl and Lauren,” Arat said. “I’ll handle everything else.”
“Find someone to send to Alexandria—let them know what’s happened and see if they can spare anything.”
Arat nodded and turned away, leaving Pandora to return to the room. Inside, she found Daryl struggling to sit up, one leg already dangling over the edge of the bed.
“Daryl!” She crossed the room in two steps, gently easing him back down. His hair stuck to his sweat-dampened forehead, and his pallor was still far too pale for her liking. “Get back in bed, Dixon. Come on.”
His grumbled, “Yah, we’re gone,” was barely audible.
“I was talking to Arat outside,” Pandora explained softly, adjusting the covers. The lie rolled off her tongue so smoothly it surprised even her.
Daryl sighed, sinking back into the pillows. She brushed the damp hair from his eyes, pressing a ghost of a kiss to his lips. “How do you feel?” she asked, sitting beside him.
“Like shit,” he muttered.
Pandora only rolled her eyes, tucking him in more securely. “Two people died last night,” she said softly, tears welling as she thought of the losses. “A kid and an old man.”
“Fuck,” Daryl rasped.
“You’ll get better,” Pandora said stubbornly, trying to push back her tears. “You have to.”
“Pandora, hey—come here,” Daryl murmured, opening his arms. She collapsed into him, sobbing quietly.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m just so scared.”
“Ah know,” he replied, his voice rough but soothing as his hand rubbed her back. “Ah already feel better today. Ah swear it.”
They stayed like that, Pandora matching her breathing to his until the tension in her chest eased. She shut her eyes, savoring the safety of his arms.
“Ah can’t wait to get outta this damn room,” Daryl muttered into the quiet.
“When you do, we’ll go for a ride,” Pandora promised.
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah,” she said with a faint smile. “I’m ready.”
From the other room, Lauren’s cough shattered the peace. Pandora sighed, rolling her eyes. “She’s been the worst patient,” she muttered. “Bossing me around like she’s still a doctor.”
“My medication says I need to eat every four hours!” Lauren’s voice called from the living room.
“I swear I’m going to kill her,” Pandora grumbled.
Daryl chuckled, his hand tangling in her hair to tug her closer. He kissed her, the gesture soft and lingering. When they broke apart, he grinned. “Ah am hungry though. Just sayin’.”
Pandora laughed, giving him a playful shove. “Dixon, you’re lucky I love you.”
“Ah love you too, Pandora.”

Later that evening, Pandora cleaned the kitchen, feeling the exhaustion settle in her bones. The quiet was unnerving, and when a knock sounded at the door, it startled her. Drying her hands on a towel, she opened it to find Rob standing there, holding a bottle and gesturing toward the rooftop.
Smiling, Pandora followed him upstairs. On the roof, Rob handed her the bottle, and she took a long drink, savoring the warmth of the wine.
“You talked to Arat today?” she asked softly, her gaze fixed on the darkening sky.
“I did,” Rob replied, wiping his mouth. “What are you thinking? Putting yourself in danger again?”
“Daryl is in danger,” Pandora snapped, the words spilling out in a rush. “He’s trying to hold this place together, and they want to stop that. I have to protect him.”
“And how are you going to do that, huh?”
“With your help,” Pandora said firmly. “You, Hunter, and Arat. We can take them out—as soon as I know who they are.”
Rob sighed, taking another drink before shaking his head. “Sometimes, you’re too much.”
Pandora laughed softly, the sound tinged with both gratitude and exhaustion. “I know,” she admitted. “Thank you for your help.”
“So what’s the plan?” Rob asked, swirling the bottle absently.
“Um…” Pandora hesitated, then sighed. “I don’t know how to make them trust me.”
Rob tilted his head back, staring up at the stars. “You tell them you’ll help get Negan back.”
Pandora blinked, startled. “What?”
“You tell them you’re tired of Rick’s rule. Say you know how weak they are, and only Negan has the power to lead this place,” Rob said, his eyes sharp and calculating.
Pandora felt her stomach churn. “Rob?” There was an edge of uncertainty in her voice.
“I hear things out there, alright?” Rob’s tone darkened. “If you play this right, they’ll believe you. You were close to Negan once. That makes you credible to them. They’re loyalists—they’ll eat it up.”
“And if they ask me to prove it?” Pandora whispered. “What then?”
“Then you find out where he is,” Rob said, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “You don’t have to do anything. Just bring back the information.”
“Fuck,” Pandora muttered, taking another long drink. “I hope I can do this.”
“You have to,” Rob replied. “It’s only a few voices now, but they’re loud. Things will get worse.”
Pandora exhaled shakily. “I’ll try.”
“I’ll be at that meeting, even if you don’t see me. Alright?” Rob said as he led her back downstairs.
Pandora turned and hugged him tightly, holding him for a long moment. “Alright,” she murmured.
“Now get off me before Daryl sees us and kicks my ass.”
Pandora laughed softly, shoving him playfully before slipping back into her room. The others were still asleep. She climbed into bed beside Daryl, her mind spinning with everything she needed to do.

A few hours later, Pandora jolted awake, her body tense, her skin damp with sweat. Her heart hammered in her chest as the remnants of her nightmare clung to her thoughts like a shadow. She sat up slowly, trying to steady her breathing, but the images refused to fade.
She could still see them—the men at the meeting, their faces hidden in shadow but their voices sharp and demanding. Prove your loyalty, one of them had said. Then, like a ghost conjured by her fear, Negan’s voice rang out, smooth and cruel: You’ve always been good at pretending, Princess. Don’t let me down now.
“Hey,” Daryl’s gruff voice broke through the darkness beside her, grounding her. His hand reached for hers, his grip warm and steady. “What’s wrong?”
Pandora swallowed hard, her throat dry, and turned to him. “Just a nightmare,” she whispered, her voice trembling as she leaned into him, pressing her face against his chest. His familiar scent, earthy and safe, helped her heart begin to slow.
“’Bout Negan?” Daryl’s question was low, almost careful, as if he already knew the answer.
“Yes.” The lie slipped out smoothly, but it wasn’t entirely untrue. Her nightmare had been about the meeting, and by extension, about Negan. She tightened her grip on his shirt, willing herself to calm down.
Daryl was quiet for a moment, his hand stroking gently over her back. “Ah thought once this is over… maybe we should go see him.”
Pandora stiffened, her heartbeat quickening again. “What?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.
“Ah mean it,” Daryl said, his tone steady. “So yah can see for yourself he’s locked up, no threat to anyone. Maybe then you can let some of this go.”
Pandora pulled back slightly to look at him, searching his face. Did he know? Had Daryl somehow pieced together her plans? The suggestion felt almost too convenient, almost like he was testing her. But if he didn’t know, this could be her opportunity—a way to gather information about Negan’s whereabouts without arousing suspicion.
“I don’t know,” she murmured, her voice cautious.
“We could use a trip,” Daryl said, his voice softening. “Go see Judith, spend some time away from here.”
At the mention of Judith, Pandora’s resolve faltered. Seeing Judith again, especially after everything that had happened to Carl, would be good for both of them. She forced herself to nod. “I’ll think about it, Dixon.”
Daryl gave a small, satisfied smile. “That’s all Ah’m askin’.”
She leaned up, pressing a kiss to his lips, lingering there for a moment. “What can I get you? Are you hungry?”
“Always,” Daryl teased, his grin faint but warm. “Ah could eat. And maybe some water.”

 

Over the next two days, Daryl and Lauren steadily improved, and no one else succumbed to illness. Pandora felt the tension in her chest loosen slightly, though the looming meeting kept her nerves taut.
Two nights after her rooftop conversation with Rob, Pandora found herself in the training room sparring with Arat.
“I heard more,” Arat said, her tone low as she lunged toward Pandora, attempting to lock her in a headlock. Pandora danced out of reach with practiced ease.
“What?” Pandora asked, her focus on dodging the next move.
“They want to meet tonight.” Arat’s words caught her off guard, and Pandora didn’t see the sweeping kick aimed at her legs. In one swift motion, Arat knocked her off balance, and Pandora hit the ground with a loud thud.
“Tonight?” Pandora wheezed, trying to catch her breath as she stared up at the ceiling.
“Yes, tonight,” Arat confirmed, extending a hand to help her up. “Come here after Daryl and Lauren are asleep. Do you have a plan?”
Pandora sighed, brushing herself off. “Maybe. Rob said I should tell them I’ll help free Negan. Play into it—use my connections.”
Arat gave her a measured look before shrugging. “You’ll have to sell it.”
“I know,” Pandora said, tugging at her braid anxiously.
Arat’s gaze lingered on her for a moment before she nodded. “Don’t let them see you hesitate. If you doubt yourself, they’ll smell it a mile away.”
Pandora inhaled deeply, steadying herself. “I won’t.”
“Good,” Arat said. “I’ll see you tonight.”
As Pandora left the training room, her stomach churned with unease. The meeting was hours away, and she had a role to play—one that might determine everything.