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Finding Myself, Finding You: Chapter One

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AO3 link

Lydia Vector is a trauma surgeon trying to find herself again after a traumatic incident--on top of surviving the zombie apocalypse. Along the way, she finds community, friendship, and maybe something more.

Story is 18+ for mature content/themes, minors do not interact please

TW/CWs for this story--implied/referenced past rape, canonical violence, non-canonical violence, blood, gore, referenced past suicide, swearing, surgery, excessive drinking, nightmares, vomiting, amputation, medical procedures, non-con medical procedures, referenced past medical torture, referenced past drugging, attempted SA, panic attacks, mental health struggles, referenced sibling death, referenced parent death

Each chapter will have its own TW/CWs listed

This story, Lydia Vector, her family & bestie (c) me, TheVeganDarkElf

TWD & its characters (c) AMC & Robert Kirkman, the writer of the comic series

TW/CWs for this chapter--blood, violence, amputation, swearing

“Lydia Rae Vector, Board-Certified in Trauma Surgery!”

The grin that spread across my face caused my cheeks to ache. I looked out and saw my parents and brothers, who fought like hell for their front-row seats to witness their only daughter and sister receive her certification. This was the moment I had worked my entire life for.

My residency was complete. And my boards had been passed. I was officially a surgeon.

The “waterproof” mascara I had spent my last $20 on ran and flaked into my eye, causing it to water more. I take my certificate from the officiator, shake his hand, and look out to the audience once again.

And I see him. Every single time, I see him.

A man stumbling down the center aisle, appearing drunk and disorderly, but he’s covered in blood, and his skin is bluish-grey. Decomposition has clearly already started. That was evident by both the open wounds on his body and the putrid stench that accompanied him. And the rest always happens the exact same way.

The crowd notices him, and slowly, the entire auditorium falls silent. Security starts to come around from the emergency exits, but before they can get to him, the man has made his way to the front row.

And he attacks my mother.

Her screams, the screams of my father and brothers, the screams of the audience and the screams coming from my own throat haunt me. He rips her vocal cords out with one swift bite, and her screams cease as quickly as they began.

And this is always where my nightmare ends.

I wake up in a cold sweat, nothing unusual there. I throw myself upwards, letting out a small yelp and feeling all over myself with my hands, checking for wounds and blood. My mornings went exactly the same way.

Every. single. time.

The small shed I had spent the night in looked even dustier during the day. I used my hands to prop myself up off of the floor and and pulled my backpack, which was my pillow every night, out from behind me. Scooting slightly to my left to get out of the blinding sun coming in through the window, I unzipped it and went through the checklist that I always do, making sure every weapon I had was still in its place.

“Axe, knife, guns, spear,” I said out loud, pulling one of the small guns and the collapsible spear out and setting them on the ground next to me. Checking that the safety was still on for both guns, I checked for my other items. Nothing had ever been stolen from me in the night, but you couldn’t be too careful.

“Journal, water bottle, clothes, food, tools, gauze, lighter, bandages, disinfectant, sewing kit, pills, and my most unique weapon.” Once everything was accounted for, I took the blanket I had been using and folded it as best as I could, stuffing it in on top of everything. I slipped my water bottle out and took the smallest sip, just enough to get rid of my cotton mouth and dry throat. I slipped the gun I left on the floor into the strap on my leg and extended my spear, getting up off of the ground and dusting myself off.

I paused for a moment and listened to the birds chirping outside. I wonder what they were saying to each other, I thought to myself. They seem happy. Of course they did. They don’t have to live through the end of the world in the same way humans do.

My reveling in listening to bird calls was quickly interrupted by the sound of a scream. A human scream. And Walker groans.

I swung my backpack onto my shoulders and jumped to the corner next to the door. I lifted my head slowly, just enough for my eyes to enter the window frame.

There was a man, probably around my age, on the ground, and three Walkers surrounding him. I could see that he had lost his knife in the scuffle, and I imagine he was hesitant to use a gun because he didn’t want to attract more of the reanimated corpses. I readied my spear, took a deep breath, and kicked the door open in one fell swoop.

“Aye motherfuckers!” I yelled, drawing the attention of all three Walkers towards me. I skipped backwards, away from the man, putting a little more distance between myself & the undead. I swung my spear and stabbed the closest one right between the eyes, pulling it out and watching the heap fall to the ground. The other two went down similarly. I paused for a moment, perking up my ears and listening to make sure no others were coming.

Once it was clear, I ran to the man. He was still on the ground, groaning in pain. That’s when I saw the bite on his ankle. My heart sank. But I knew what I needed to do. I ran and kneeled down next to him.

“Hey, what’s your name man?” I said to him, trying to keep my voice as calm as possible. I saw a small glimmer of hope in his eyes.

“A-A-Aaron,” he said, gritting his teeth through the pain.

“Alright Aaron, my name is Vector. I’m a doctor, and I can save you, but we gotta get you inside that shed right there. Can you sit up?” He nodded and used his arms to pull himself into a sitting position. I got up on my feet and put an arm around his back, under his arms.

“Alright Aaron, let’s get you on your feet,” I told him, and I saw him nod out of the corner of my eye. He put his body weight onto his right foot & onto me, and we slowly stood up together. Thankfully, the shed was right by us. I got him through the door and helped him back down onto the floor. Once he was on his back, I moved like lightning to get out my small axe, disinfectant, lighter, bandages, gauze, and two of my shirts, one with long sleeves and a small one.

“Aaron, you probably know where this is going, but I’m going to have to cut your foot off. And then I’m going to cauterize your wound so it hopefully won’t get infected,” I said between inhales, taking the my smaller shirt and tying it into a knot to form a gag. We couldn’t have him attracting any more Walkers. “I need you to take this and bite down as hard as you can. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes…” Aaron said. I saw a couple of tears leave his eyes. He put the knotted shirt into his mouth, laying his head back onto the dirty floor. I poured a small amount of disinfectant onto my axe and onto his leg, just above the bite mark. Some of the disinfectant ran into the wound, and he writhed in pain.

“Alright.” I looked over at him, meeting his eyes, “I need you to stay completely still. Bite down as hard as you possibly can. You got this my man.” He squeezed his eyes shut. I raised the axe up, lining it up with where I was going to make my mark.

“I’m so sorry Aaron,” I whispered, swinging the axe down as hard as I could. Thankfully, his foot and ankle came off with one hit. His blood sprayed across the shed, getting onto the walls and all over both of us.

Despite the muffling of the shirt, his screaming was loud. The tears were flowing. And so was the blood. I grabbed my lighter with my right hand and grabbed Aaron’s hand with my left one, squeezing it to remind him he wasn’t alone.

“I’m going to cauterize it next. This pain is probably going to be worse, but I know you can do this. Just keep breathing through your nose and squeeze my hand when you need to,” I told him. He didn’t nod or acknowledge what I said in any way, but I had to keep moving to stop the bleeding. I flicked on my lighter and held it to his open wound, gliding it back and forth across the whole area. I did this for a couple of minutes to ensure the whole area had been cauterized. For Aaron, I’m sure it felt like hours. He squeezed my hand so hard that I was sure he was going to break it. His muffled screams were the only sound I heard.

“You’re doing great bud,” I spoke softly, “I have padding and gauze that I’m going to put onto it next, then I’m going to wrap it in one of my shirts. Keep biting onto that one for as long as you need.” This time, he opened his eyes, which were bright red from crying, and nodded. I took a couple of pads and pressed them to his leg, holding them in place while I started the gauze wrapping.

“I’m sorry I don’t have an ice pack or anything to help with the burning,” I said. He spat my shirt onto the ground and let out a small chuckle.

“Sorry? You just saved my life.” I took my long-sleeved plaid button-up and wrapped his leg in it, using the sleeves to tie it around his calf. He was still hyperventilating a little.

“Just rest for right now,” I instructed, “once you’re doing a little better, I’ll help you get back to your home base.” He tried to pull himself up to a sitting position, but I lightly pressed on his shoulders to let him know to lay back down, “Stay like that. Just focus on your breathing. I have some water, and I have food if you’re hungry.”

“What did you say your name was?” he asked me. I pulled my water bottle, which was about half-full, out of my bag.

“Vector,” I repeated. I scooted over to him and helped him lift his head enough to sip some water without choking on it. I took my knotted shirt and unknotted it, giving to him to wipe the tears and water off of his face. He rotated his head and looked up at me.

“Vector, why did you help me?” he asked, “you could’ve just killed me, saved your resources. Or taken my stuff and ran.” I squeezed his shoulder reassuringly.

“I took an oath,” I explained, “I’m a doctor. This is what I do.”

“How can I—“ a cough stopped him mid-sentence, “repay you? I can get you food, water, supplies. I have a community. Just say the word and whatever you want is yours.” I leaned back and grabbed my spear, which I had dropped on the way in, and collapsed it fully, rolling back and forth on the floor between my hands.

“Honestly, I could just use directions to a certain place, I must be close to it by now. I’m looking for a safe zone, it’s called—“

“Alexandria.”

I cocked my head at him, my words catching in my mouth and my facial expression displaying my shock. “How did you know that?”

“It’s the only one around here. We’re only a couple miles out” he laughed. Despite my protests earlier, he used his upper body to pull himself up into a sitting position, leaning back against some boxes, “I’m actually from there. I’m a recruiter. I go out with my partner Eric, and we search for survivors, like yourself, and see who would make useful additions to our community. And hell, we could definitely use you.”

I couldn’t believe my luck.

“I’ve been looking for Alexandria for months.”

Finding Myself, Finding You: Chapter Two

Masterlist

AO3 link

Story is 18+ for mature content/themes, minors do not interact please

TW/CWs for this story--implied/referenced past rape, canonical violence, non-canonical violence, blood, gore, referenced past suicide, swearing, surgery, excessive drinking, nightmares, vomiting, amputation, medical procedures, non-con medical procedures, referenced past medical torture, referenced past drugging, attempted sexual assault, panic attacks, mental health struggles, referenced sibling death, referenced parent death

Each chapter will have its own TW/CWs listed

This story, Lydia Vector, her family & bestie (c) me, TheVeganDarkElf

TWD & its characters (c) AMC & Robert Kirkman, the writer of the comic series

TW/CWs for this chapter--swearing, mention of amputation

Word count: 2.1k

Aaron and I stayed in that shed for probably two hours. He told me about his S.O. Eric and how they got separated, how he hoped that Eric had made it back safely. He told me about some of the people in Alexandria, how this large group of ragtag misfits had come together to form one giant family. There was power and water and food and shelter.

Alexandria sounded like a dream.

At some point, he took a lengthy nap, which I used as time to write. During my residency and throughout this last year and a half, the only hobby I had & thing that managed to keep me semi-sane was writing. I came to love writing poetry in med school & had journals upon journals filled to the brim with my work stuffed into my bedroom closet on a small shelf. I wish I could have brought even a few of them with me.

After he woke up, I gave him some more of my water and a little bit of my food. He pulled at the corner of the silver bag, stopping to read the text on the front.

“Is this fucking freeze-dried ice cream?” Aaron asked, laughing as he tore the corner off the bag.

“My dad was an astronaut. You don’t wanna know how much of that shit was stacked in closets in his office. I took all that would fit into my backpack before I started making my way out here,” I responded. He pulled the small, hard Neapolitan brick out of the bag, taking a bite out of the corner.

“Can I be frank?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“This tastes like shit,” he chuckled. I laughed in response.

“It does, but it’s food. I’ve been living off of that for the last year and a half. And any random cans I’ve found along the way,” I said, “I haven’t kept track of time, but it feels like it’s been months since I had food that wasn’t freeze-dried.”

“Well, once we get back, we’ll get you taken care of,” he told me. I suppressed my squee of joy and instead let it spread across my face in a gigantic grin.

After a little more time talking, he seemed like he had gotten enough strength back to slowly head back to Alexandria. I grabbed my spear and put it under my arm, propping myself up onto my feet.

“Alright, we’re gonna get you on your…” I caught the word I was going to say in my mouth, “foot…and take as long as we need to get back. Is there any chance some people could be sent out looking for you?” I put my arm around him again, and he put his weight onto his foot to push himself into a standing position. He then distributed his weight between his foot and on me.

“I mean, there’s a chance, but only if Eric made it back and told them what happened,” he told me. I unsheathed my spear to use as a walking stick, the sharp end pointing to the sky. We hobbled slowly to the door, and I had him stop and rest on a table.

“Let me make sure it’s clear.” I swung the door open and walked the perimeter of the small shed, listening and making sure there weren’t any Walkers nearby. I found a large stick on the ground for Aaron to use, picking it up and bringing it back to him. “Here, use this.” He took it in his free hand and gave me a nod. I grabbed him again, and after slipping through the door, I let him lead the way to the road.

“So you’ve obviously got medical skills. What’s your combat experience like?”

We hobbled along the road, me telling him about my brothers and my family and how I’d been alone all this time. Never had a group. There was the occasional Walker, which I would take care of with my spear. It was a peaceful walk for the most part.

After a couple of hours, I could see a wall through the trees. Aaron’s face lit up, as did mine. The two people on either side of what I assumed was the front gate raised their guns in our direction, keeping them poised. After we were out of the trees, they dropped their weapons when they realized it was Aaron.

“He’s back!” one of them shouted. One of them signaled to someone I couldn’t see, and they started opening the gate. A blonde man slipped through the small gap in the gate like butter and began running over.

“Eric!” Aaron yelled, starting to pick up his pace a little. Eric ran over at mach speed, embracing Aaron in a vice grip the second they touched. I pushed forward on Aaron to keep both of them from falling over. One of the two started making their way towards us, the other walking off towards the side to the trees. I was so enamored by Eric and Aaron that I didn’t even see him coming up behind me.

“No, no she’s with me!” Aaron screamed behind him. Before I could fully process what was happening, the back of my head was struck, the pain vibrating across my face and down my neck. I could feel myself falling forward, and everything turned black before I hit the ground.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I slowly opened my eyes. Wherever I was was very bright, and the light was blinding. The back of my head was pulsating, each throb matching my heartbeat. I was sat upright, I could tell that much. After several rounds of blinking, I was able to open my eyes.

“She’s awake,” I heard a man’s voice say. It took a moment for my eyes to focus, but when they did, I realized I was in some kind of small cell. The first thing I noticed was a man sitting in front of me. He was leaned back in a chair, one leg propped up onto the other. He looked cool as a cucumber as he held his crossbow up, pointed right at me.

His voice was like gravel in my ears. And I liked it.

I practically fell over jumping up to my feet, putting my hands up at my sides. I backed up into the far corner. Looking around the room, I saw a few more people come in, each one taking a seat either in a chair or on a set of steps.

“Ya got other weapons on ya, sunshine?” the man with the crossbow asked me. I chuckled a little. I was wearing a black cropped tank and a skort where a portion of the front skirt part was missing. My clothes were small and fitted, so I don’t know where else they thought I could store a weapon.

“Look at me,” I said, shaking my hips a little and twirling in a circle, “where could I possibly store another weapon, up my p—“

The three women in the group giggled at my comment. “Shut up and sit down,” another man instructed. This one was wearing a cowboy hat and had a star-shaped badge pinned to his chest. The way this man spoke indicated that he was some sort of authority figure in this group.

“Could call it a pussy knife,” I said under my breath as I sat down on the small bench against the back wall of the cell.

“You’re gonna start with telling us who you are and what happened to Aaron,” he instructed. I leaned back and folded my arms across my chest, examining the group. There was the one with the crossbow, the sheriff with an attitude, a woman with grey hair, an Asian guy, another woman with short hair who looked around my age or a little older, and a Black woman with dreads, probably also not much older than me.

“What’s your name, cowboy?” I asked the sheriff, sass lacing my voice, “y’know, so I can address you properly.”

“Rick,” he told me, “Rick Grimes.”

“Well Rick, have you talked to Aaron yet?”

“You’ll give us your story first, then we’ll make sure it matches his.”

“Can I have my stuff back?”

“You might get it back, depending on whether or not I like your answer.” I met his gaze and sighed.

Fuck cops.

“I’m Vector, and I think I’m 32, depending on what month it is. I’m a trauma surgeon. Well, I had a month left of my residency when…all of this started. I was at Johns Hopkins for my residency and going home to see family for vacation. I had hardly left the hospital when people started evacuating. I decided to drive all the way back home where I found out that one of brothers had already lost his life. I, umm…”

I paused, trying to find my wording without letting my emotions get the best of me, “had to put him out of his misery. After some wandering, I found out about Alexandria, and…here I am. Got lucky enough to find Aaron. He got bit, by the way. I had just woken up and he was getting attacked nearby, which I saved him from. You’re welcome. I carry medical supplies on me, so I got him to safety, amputated his foot, patched him up, and here we are.”

“He said you gave him food and water?” Rick said. I rolled my eyes and huffed.

“So you have talked to him?” I scoffed, “and yes I did. I could’ve just killed him, or taken his stuff and ran, but I didn’t. Because I’m a doctor, and he needed help. That’s what I do.” There was a silence that hovered over us for what felt like ages. It felt like they were reading me, trying to gauge whether or not I was telling the truth. Meanwhile, the one with the crossbow hadn’t let up once.

“What kind of doctor did you say you were?” the woman with the grey hair asked.

“I’m a trauma surgeon. I was working in the ER before all this. I amputated limbs, put limbs back on, did organ transplants. I saw gunshot wounds, third-degree burns. You name it, I’ve probably done it,” I explained, “actually, my plan after completing my residency and getting a few years under my belt was to eventually join Doctors Without Borders, but now we’re here.”

“That’s uh…wow, that’s really commendable,” Rick stated, a small smile crossing his face. I nodded. “Do you have a group that would be looking for you?”

“No, I’ve never had a group. Just me, the pack on my back, and my own thoughts,” I explained, pointing to my head. The group looked surprised by what I said.

“You’ve survived by yourself this whole time?” he asked me, sounding surprised. I nodded.

“Never wanted to join anyone. I had my heart set on Alexandria from the moment I heard about it. Sometimes I would come across people, like I did Aaron, and I would offer my medical services and take off. Never really stuck around one place for too long.”

“Well that’s very trusting of you,” Rick commented, “how has that worked out?” I bit my lip to keep myself from wincing at the memories from that day.

“Well, for the most part,” I said. I rubbed at the rope scars on my wrists in a way that I hoped was discreet, “I mean, I’ve made it this long on my own, right?”

“What are your combat skills like?” he questioned. I had to suppress my laughter.

“I grew up with three older brothers…all Navy SEALs…they taught me everything they knew.” I leaned forward between the bars, locking eyes with Rick. “I’ll let you guess how my combat skills are.” The man with the crossbow made a face, though I couldn’t decipher what it meant. Rick seemed to take notice.

“Would you like her to demonstrate, Daryl?”

“Yeah, would you like me to demonstrate, Daryl?” I smirked, “I could kick you in the balls, bring you to your knees, and knee you in the face. Don’t need to be a Navy SEAL to know how to do that.”

“I like her,” the woman with the short hair said, laughing.

“Ya just tiny s’all,” Daryl commented. His Southern drawl and gravel-laced voice made me weak, though I didn’t let it show.

“I’m like 5’7”, I am not tiny,” I retorted, “and can you tell him to stop pointing that thing at me? I’m clearly not going to hurt anyone from in here.” Rick nodded to Daryl, who finally lowered his bow. “Thank you.” He then turned to the Asian man to his left, who got up and came over toward my cell, unlocking it and swinging the door open. I hesitated for a moment before stepping out, scanning my eyes across the group.

“Sooooo…does this mean I get to stay?” I asked, a small but enthusiastic smile crossing my face, “I promise I’ll be useful. Sassy, but useful.”

“Yes,” Rick said, “Welcome to Alexandria.”

Finding Myself, Finding You: Chapter Two

Masterlist

AO3 link

Story is 18+ for mature content/themes, minors do not interact please

TW/CWs for this story--implied/referenced past rape, canonical violence, non-canonical violence, blood, gore, referenced past suicide, swearing, surgery, excessive drinking, nightmares, vomiting, amputation, medical procedures, non-con medical procedures, referenced past medical torture, referenced past drugging, attempted sexual assault, panic attacks, mental health struggles, referenced sibling death, referenced parent death

Each chapter will have its own TW/CWs listed

This story, Lydia Vector, her family & bestie (c) me, TheVeganDarkElf

TWD & its characters (c) AMC & Robert Kirkman, the writer of the comic series

TW/CWs for this chapter--swearing, mention of amputation

Word count: 2.1k

Aaron and I stayed in that shed for probably two hours. He told me about his S.O. Eric and how they got separated, how he hoped that Eric had made it back safely. He told me about some of the people in Alexandria, how this large group of ragtag misfits had come together to form one giant family. There was power and water and food and shelter.

Alexandria sounded like a dream.

At some point, he took a lengthy nap, which I used as time to write. During my residency and throughout this last year and a half, the only hobby I had & thing that managed to keep me semi-sane was writing. I came to love writing poetry in med school & had journals upon journals filled to the brim with my work stuffed into my bedroom closet on a small shelf. I wish I could have brought even a few of them with me.

After he woke up, I gave him some more of my water and a little bit of my food. He pulled at the corner of the silver bag, stopping to read the text on the front.

“Is this fucking freeze-dried ice cream?” Aaron asked, laughing as he tore the corner off the bag.

“My dad was an astronaut. You don’t wanna know how much of that shit was stacked in closets in his office. I took all that would fit into my backpack before I started making my way out here,” I responded. He pulled the small, hard Neapolitan brick out of the bag, taking a bite out of the corner.

“Can I be frank?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“This tastes like shit,” he chuckled. I laughed in response.

“It does, but it’s food. I’ve been living off of that for the last year and a half. And any random cans I’ve found along the way,” I said, “I haven’t kept track of time, but it feels like it’s been months since I had food that wasn’t freeze-dried.”

“Well, once we get back, we’ll get you taken care of,” he told me. I suppressed my squee of joy and instead let it spread across my face in a gigantic grin.

After a little more time talking, he seemed like he had gotten enough strength back to slowly head back to Alexandria. I grabbed my spear and put it under my arm, propping myself up onto my feet.

“Alright, we’re gonna get you on your…” I caught the word I was going to say in my mouth, “foot…and take as long as we need to get back. Is there any chance some people could be sent out looking for you?” I put my arm around him again, and he put his weight onto his foot to push himself into a standing position. He then distributed his weight between his foot and on me.

“I mean, there’s a chance, but only if Eric made it back and told them what happened,” he told me. I unsheathed my spear to use as a walking stick, the sharp end pointing to the sky. We hobbled slowly to the door, and I had him stop and rest on a table.

“Let me make sure it’s clear.” I swung the door open and walked the perimeter of the small shed, listening and making sure there weren’t any Walkers nearby. I found a large stick on the ground for Aaron to use, picking it up and bringing it back to him. “Here, use this.” He took it in his free hand and gave me a nod. I grabbed him again, and after slipping through the door, I let him lead the way to the road.

“So you’ve obviously got medical skills. What’s your combat experience like?”

We hobbled along the road, me telling him about my brothers and my family and how I’d been alone all this time. Never had a group. There was the occasional Walker, which I would take care of with my spear. It was a peaceful walk for the most part.

After a couple of hours, I could see a wall through the trees. Aaron’s face lit up, as did mine. The two people on either side of what I assumed was the front gate raised their guns in our direction, keeping them poised. After we were out of the trees, they dropped their weapons when they realized it was Aaron.

“He’s back!” one of them shouted. One of them signaled to someone I couldn’t see, and they started opening the gate. A blonde man slipped through the small gap in the gate like butter and began running over.

“Eric!” Aaron yelled, starting to pick up his pace a little. Eric ran over at mach speed, embracing Aaron in a vice grip the second they touched. I pushed forward on Aaron to keep both of them from falling over. One of the two started making their way towards us, the other walking off towards the side to the trees. I was so enamored by Eric and Aaron that I didn’t even see him coming up behind me.

“No, no she’s with me!” Aaron screamed behind him. Before I could fully process what was happening, the back of my head was struck, the pain vibrating across my face and down my neck. I could feel myself falling forward, and everything turned black before I hit the ground.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I slowly opened my eyes. Wherever I was was very bright, and the light was blinding. The back of my head was pulsating, each throb matching my heartbeat. I was sat upright, I could tell that much. After several rounds of blinking, I was able to open my eyes.

“She’s awake,” I heard a man’s voice say. It took a moment for my eyes to focus, but when they did, I realized I was in some kind of small cell. The first thing I noticed was a man sitting in front of me. He was leaned back in a chair, one leg propped up onto the other. He looked cool as a cucumber as he held his crossbow up, pointed right at me.

His voice was like gravel in my ears. And I liked it.

I practically fell over jumping up to my feet, putting my hands up at my sides. I backed up into the far corner. Looking around the room, I saw a few more people come in, each one taking a seat either in a chair or on a set of steps.

“Ya got other weapons on ya, sunshine?” the man with the crossbow asked me. I chuckled a little. I was wearing a black cropped tank and a skort where a portion of the front skirt part was missing. My clothes were small and fitted, so I don’t know where else they thought I could store a weapon.

“Look at me,” I said, shaking my hips a little and twirling in a circle, “where could I possibly store another weapon, up my p—“

The three women in the group giggled at my comment. “Shut up and sit down,” another man instructed. This one was wearing a cowboy hat and had a star-shaped badge pinned to his chest. The way this man spoke indicated that he was some sort of authority figure in this group.

“Could call it a pussy knife,” I said under my breath as I sat down on the small bench against the back wall of the cell.

“You’re gonna start with telling us who you are and what happened to Aaron,” he instructed. I leaned back and folded my arms across my chest, examining the group. There was the one with the crossbow, the sheriff with an attitude, a woman with grey hair, an Asian guy, another woman with short hair who looked around my age or a little older, and a Black woman with dreads, probably also not much older than me.

“What’s your name, cowboy?” I asked the sheriff, sass lacing my voice, “y’know, so I can address you properly.”

“Rick,” he told me, “Rick Grimes.”

“Well Rick, have you talked to Aaron yet?”

“You’ll give us your story first, then we’ll make sure it matches his.”

“Can I have my stuff back?”

“You might get it back, depending on whether or not I like your answer.” I met his gaze and sighed.

Fuck cops.

“I’m Vector, and I think I’m 32, depending on what month it is. I’m a trauma surgeon. Well, I had a month left of my residency when…all of this started. I was at Johns Hopkins for my residency and going home to see family for vacation. I had hardly left the hospital when people started evacuating. I decided to drive all the way back home where I found out that one of brothers had already lost his life. I, umm…”

I paused, trying to find my wording without letting my emotions get the best of me, “had to put him out of his misery. After some wandering, I found out about Alexandria, and…here I am. Got lucky enough to find Aaron. He got bit, by the way. I had just woken up and he was getting attacked nearby, which I saved him from. You’re welcome. I carry medical supplies on me, so I got him to safety, amputated his foot, patched him up, and here we are.”

“He said you gave him food and water?” Rick said. I rolled my eyes and huffed.

“So you have talked to him?” I scoffed, “and yes I did. I could’ve just killed him, or taken his stuff and ran, but I didn’t. Because I’m a doctor, and he needed help. That’s what I do.” There was a silence that hovered over us for what felt like ages. It felt like they were reading me, trying to gauge whether or not I was telling the truth. Meanwhile, the one with the crossbow hadn’t let up once.

“What kind of doctor did you say you were?” the woman with the grey hair asked.

“I’m a trauma surgeon. I was working in the ER before all this. I amputated limbs, put limbs back on, did organ transplants. I saw gunshot wounds, third-degree burns. You name it, I’ve probably done it,” I explained, “actually, my plan after completing my residency and getting a few years under my belt was to eventually join Doctors Without Borders, but now we’re here.”

“That’s uh…wow, that’s really commendable,” Rick stated, a small smile crossing his face. I nodded. “Do you have a group that would be looking for you?”

“No, I’ve never had a group. Just me, the pack on my back, and my own thoughts,” I explained, pointing to my head. The group looked surprised by what I said.

“You’ve survived by yourself this whole time?” he asked me, sounding surprised. I nodded.

“Never wanted to join anyone. I had my heart set on Alexandria from the moment I heard about it. Sometimes I would come across people, like I did Aaron, and I would offer my medical services and take off. Never really stuck around one place for too long.”

“Well that’s very trusting of you,” Rick commented, “how has that worked out?” I bit my lip to keep myself from wincing at the memories from that day.

“Well, for the most part,” I said. I rubbed at the rope scars on my wrists in a way that I hoped was discreet, “I mean, I’ve made it this long on my own, right?”

“What are your combat skills like?” he questioned. I had to suppress my laughter.

“I grew up with three older brothers…all Navy SEALs…they taught me everything they knew.” I leaned forward between the bars, locking eyes with Rick. “I’ll let you guess how my combat skills are.” The man with the crossbow made a face, though I couldn’t decipher what it meant. Rick seemed to take notice.

“Would you like her to demonstrate, Daryl?”

“Yeah, would you like me to demonstrate, Daryl?” I smirked, “I could kick you in the balls, bring you to your knees, and knee you in the face. Don’t need to be a Navy SEAL to know how to do that.”

“I like her,” the woman with the short hair said, laughing.

“Ya just tiny s’all,” Daryl commented. His Southern drawl and gravel-laced voice made me weak, though I didn’t let it show.

“I’m like 5’7”, I am not tiny,” I retorted, “and can you tell him to stop pointing that thing at me? I’m clearly not going to hurt anyone from in here.” Rick nodded to Daryl, who finally lowered his bow. “Thank you.” He then turned to the Asian man to his left, who got up and came over toward my cell, unlocking it and swinging the door open. I hesitated for a moment before stepping out, scanning my eyes across the group.

“Sooooo…does this mean I get to stay?” I asked, a small but enthusiastic smile crossing my face, “I promise I’ll be useful. Sassy, but useful.”

“Yes,” Rick said, “Welcome to Alexandria.”

Finding Myself, Finding You: Chapter Three

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Story is 18+ for mature content/themes, minors do not interact please

TW/CWs for this story--implied/referenced past rape, canonical violence, non-canonical violence, blood, gore, referenced past suicide, swearing, surgery, excessive drinking, nightmares, vomiting, amputation, medical procedures, non-con medical procedures, referenced past medical torture, referenced past drugging, attempted sexual assault, panic attacks, mental health struggles, referenced sibling death, referenced parent death

Each chapter will have its own TW/CWs listed

This story, Lydia Vector, her family & bestie (c) me, TheVeganDarkElf

TWD & its characters (c) AMC & Robert Kirkman, the writer of the comic series

TW/CWs for this chapter--swearing, mention of nightmares

Word count: 2k

“Ok, so Rick, Daryl, Maggie, Glenn, Michonne, very pretty name by the way, and Carol. I think I’ve got it,” I said, pointing to each person as I said their name so I could associate names to faces. I followed the group up the steps and out into the sunshine. I took off my glasses and blew some dust off of the inside.

A teenage boy was sitting outside in the grass. He couldn’t have been older than 14, maybe 15, and he was holding an infant. They couldn’t have been more than 6 months old. I had to push the thoughts out of my head of what the mother must have gone through birthing a baby during the literal apocalypse.

“Carl, this is Vector,” Rick said to the boy. I assumed this was his son. I squatted down to Carl’s level. Carol said some things to Rick that I couldn’t make out before walking off.

“So you cut off Aaron’s foot?” he asked me. I chuckled a little and nodded.

“She saved Aaron’s life, and we can’t thank her enough for that,” Rick corrected.

“I’m a trauma surgeon. Probably the best kind of doctor to have around in a situation like this. It was far from my first amputation,” I told him, “and who is this little one?”

“This is my sister, Judith,” he replied. I cocked my head and admired the little baby in his arms. She just stared at me, wide-eyed, before giggling and waving her hands around at who knows what. ”Or Lil’ Ass Kicker, if you’re asking Daryl.”

“Well, she is adorable.” I stood back up and looked over at Rick, holding a hand up over my eyes to block out the sun. “So Rick, you seem like an authority figure in this place. Where do you want me at?”

“Vector, you’re gonna be sharing that house over there with Daryl,” Rick said, pointing to a house that was just out of my line of sight, “there’s plenty of space for two people.” I felt my heart stop for a moment, and my eyes grew wide. I felt my stomach churn at the thought of sharing a space alone with a man I’d barely met. I rubbed my rope scars.

“You want me where?”

“She’s goin’ where?” Daryl asked. The irritation in his voice was heavy. I could only see his shape in my peripheral, but I could feel the distaste for me radiating off of him. I thought I was going to choke on it.

“Daryl, it makes sense to keep her near the infirmary.” Rick retorted.

“I don’t know, is there like, someone who’s…not a man…that I can stay with?” I asked, then immediately recanted my statement, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be picky. Y’all were gracious enough to let me in, and I can’t thank you enough for that.” I looked over at Daryl, “we’ll make it work.”

“I dunno who 'we' is, but I ain’t the one,” he said. He slung his crossbow over his shoulder and sauntered away. I watched as he dragged his feet across the ground back to his, well now “our” house.

“He’s really not so bad once you get to know him,” Rick assured. I gave him a hesitant face.

“Are you sure? He seems, I don’t wanna be mean, but a little more than just rough around the edges. Will I be, umm,” I swallowed hard, “safe in there? Y’know, since I’m “tiny.””

“As long as you don’t swing first,” Glenn replied.

“Hey Maggie, you don’t, uh, happen to have a hair tie, do you? I had fashioned one out of gauze and a rubber band, but it broke.”

“Rosita might,” she said, patting me on the shoulder, “c’mon, Glenn and I can show you around and introduce you to everyone.” I gave a small smile and a nod. Her and Glenn started off, and I looked up at the sky and took in a deep breath of fresh air. My brothers and my dad crossed my mind.

“I wish you guys could see this,” I whispered, following after the two of them.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

After introductions to everyone, Glenn and Maggie took me over to the infirmary, where I stored the medical supplies I’d been carrying. After giving the remaining astronaut food to Rick to store in case of an emergency or a long journey and emptying it of gauze, bandages, disinfectant, pills, and small medical tools, my pack was much lighter. I still had yet to get my weapons back.

“So is Rick right?” I asked, following the two of them back outside, “about what he said about Daryl? I just get the vibe that he doesn’t like me, and I’ve hardly talked to the man.”

“Daryl’s very…” Maggie turned to Glenn before looking back at me, “protective of the people he cares about. You’re a fresh face. Don’t take anything too personally. And eventually, he’ll really see you as one of us. You’ll be fine.” She turned to look at the house I’d be staying and then back at me. “I’ll go in with you if that would make you more comfortable.” I swallowed and nodded.

She gave Glenn a quick kiss & he walked away before we headed over and up the tiny steps to the front door. It was a cute little grey house with large windows and flowers in the front that I was surprised weren’t dead. I figured gardening wouldn’t be at the top of anyone’s priority list in a time like this. Maggie knocked on the door and waited a few seconds before letting herself in.

“It’s Maggie and Vector!” she called out, letting me past her and closing the door behind us. No response. I unzipped my black combat boots and kicked them off. I let out a sigh of relief as my feet touched the floor, gently lifting each of my feet and pulling my socks off. The floor was ice cold under my feet.

“I’ve never been so excited to be barefoot. You forget about the little things, like being able to walk around without shoes on,” I said. I took a look around at what was in front of me. There was a set of stairs straight ahead, the kitchen off to the right with a small island in it, and a living area to the left with a couch, coffee table, and a chair. To the right of the stairs was a door, which I guessed was either a bathroom or a basement door.

“Well I bet you’re even more excited to get clean,” she said to me, “if this layout is anything like mine, which it looks like it is, I can show you where everything is at.”

“Hell yeah, let’s go,” I replied, following her over to and up the stairs. It felt strange to be walking around without my boots on. Previously, the only times I’d even taken them off were to quickly wash off when I’d find a creek, but that wasn’t very often. She led me to a room on the left and gently pressed the door open. Inside, there was a bed and a dresser with a mirror above it.

“This one’s you,” she told me, “oh, gimme your clothes & I’ll make sure they get washed.” I set my backpack down on the bed and fished my remaining clothes out.

“I would’ve been more than happy with just a chair cushion on the floor in a corner,” I beamed, handing my clothes over to her. I felt bad because they absolutely reeked, but she handled them as if there was no issue. Probably to not make me feel bad, which I appreciated. I left my bag on the bed and followed her back out to a door across the hall.

“This one’s the bathroom, and I'm guessing Daryl’s room is around the corner. Go ahead and enjoy a shower and I’ll see if any of us gals have some clothes you can borrow while yours get cleaned,” she said. I stepped into the small bathroom and turned to her.

“Maggie, I—“ I could hardly get my words out, “thank you for being so nice to me. And taking my clothes, showing me around. And letting me in in the first place. I promise I’ll be a productive member of the community here. I really can’t thank y’all enough.” I didn’t even think, I just grabbed her and gave her a giant hug. I don’t know what compelled me to do it. Maybe it was my lack of genuine human contact up to this point or being overwhelmed with the joy of finding a home. She slipped one arm out and hugged me back.

“I’m so sorry,” I said as I released her, “I should’ve asked you first.”

“You’re alright. It’s easy to get overwhelmed when you first get here. Don’t worry about it. And you’re welcome,” Maggie replied, “I’ll have the clothes in your room before you’re done.” We nodded to each other before she turned around and headed down and out the front door.

I quickly undressed and left my clothes in a pile that I could easily grab when I was done. I draped a towel across the back of the toilet and did my best to get the water to the right temperature. I almost cried when I first stepped underneath it. The amount of dirt that immediately ran off of me was abhorrent. I probably shampooed my hair 5 times, the product stinging the small wound on the back of my head. But I didn’t care. I was just happy to have clean hair. I was definitely a bit aggressive with the soap.

“Fuck,” I said to myself, turning towards the water and sticking my face under it, “I’ve never been so happy to get soap in my eyes.”

After cleaning every crack and crevice of my body multiple times, I stepped out and grabbed a towel, drying my face first and wrapping myself in it. It felt so soft, like it was my first time touching a bath towel. I took a moment to soak everything in before leaving the bathroom.

“Daryl?” I called out, poking my head out the door ever so slightly. When I didn’t hear a response or any sound of movement, I scuttled across the hallway to my room and quickly shut the door. Once I was in, I saw the clothes that Maggie had set out for me. There was a pair of black denim shorts, a black sports bra, some socks, and a hair tie. I sat down on the edge of the bed, and unable to contain myself anymore, I started sobbing. I covered my mouth with both hands to try to stifle the sounds.

My mom, my dad, Preston, Jay, Eli…they would never get to see Alexandria. I would never get to see their smiling faces, hear their laughs, experience their joy. There wouldn’t be any more reunions when they came home from deployment, no late-night trips to the grocery store, no more interrogations about boys, no father-daughter deep talks when neither of us could sleep. I couldn’t believe that out of everyone in my family, I was the one who made it out and alive. Not the Navy SEALs…me.

Being a surgeon who treated survivors of mass shootings, I was well-educated on survivor’s guilt, but damn, nothing prepares you for having to experience it yourself.

I took a few minutes to cry before drying myself off and throwing on the clothes Maggie left for me. I tied my wet hair up into a bun and tossed my towel on the bed. I took my glasses off and set them on the dresser before collapsing on the bed next to my backpack. I rolled onto my side and continued to cry. It was all I could do. I finally felt safe enough to grieve.

Eventually, sleep came, and with it came the nightmares. But they were different this time.

Finding Myself, Finding You: Chapter Four

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Story is 18+ for mature content/themes, minors do not interact please

TW/CWs for this story--implied/referenced past rape, canonical violence, non-canonical violence, blood, gore, referenced past suicide, swearing, surgery, excessive drinking, nightmares, vomiting, amputation, medical procedures, non-con medical procedures, referenced past medical torture, referenced past drugging, attempted sexual assault, panic attacks, mental health struggles, referenced sibling death, referenced parent death

Each chapter will have its own TW/CWs listed

This story, Lydia Vector, her family & bestie (c) me, TheVeganDarkElf

TWD & its characters (c) AMC & Robert Kirkman, the writer of the comic series

TW/CWs for this chapter--swearing, description of nightmares, mention of being held at gunpoint, allusion to drugging, mentions of blood, medical stuff (changing the dressing on a wound)

Word count: 2k

I was finally able to open my eyes ever so slightly. My eyelids felt like lead. Where was I? Why was I so groggy? Had I been drugged? Eventually, I was able to open my eyes all the way. My vision was fuzzy, and it took a minute to clear. Before it did, a gun was forced into my mouth. It tasted of metal and gunpowder. There were a few moments before I was able to piece together what was going on, and before my vision could fully clear, I screamed.

I hit the floor with a loud thud, scaring myself awake. I scrambled up into a sitting position next to the bed, taking in my surroundings. I was still in the bedroom in Alexandria. I was safe. It had all just been a terrible dream.

I wasn’t sure whether or not I had screamed in real life, but that was confirmed when my door opened. I poked my head up over the bed to see him standing there.

“The hell was that?” a half-asleep Daryl asked me, sounding frustrated that he had been startled awake. God, his tired voice was even more attractive. I tried my hardest to keep myself from blushing, both from the sound of his voice and from embarrassment. Thankfully, it was dark outside by this point, so I don’t think he could tell.

“I umm, just fell out of bed. Sorry to scare you,” I replied. I propped myself up into a squat and stood up.

“Well don’t do it again,” he told me, “scare the shit outta everyone with how loud ya was.” He turned and started to walk away.

“I’ll try not to,” I said, “sorry again.” With that, he shut the door behind him. I sat back on the bed, laying down and staring up at the ceiling.

“Fuck. Way to make an impression,” I whispered to myself.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The following morning, I rolled myself out of bed and looked out the window. The sun was just coming up, and I figured most people were still asleep. Despite my nightmare, I felt rested for the first time in months. I looked over and noticed a piece of paper sitting on the dresser with a small basket next to it. In the basket were all of my clothes and some extra, minus the plaid shirt I had used to wrap Aaron’s leg. The note read “Didn’t wanna wake you. Dinner’s in the fridge.” I figured it was from Maggie. I was going to have to do something nice for her and everyone here for welcoming me in so warmly.

I realized I was absolutely ravenous, so I dug through the small basket of clothes for a pair of my underwear and put them on, tossing my shorts back on before going downstairs. The floor was cold, and it creaked slightly under my feet. I tried to walk slowly to make sure I didn’t wake Daryl.

In the kitchen, I saw a coffee pot and grounds on the counter. I hadn’t had coffee since this whole thing started, and I missed the sweet rush of caffeine in the morning. I opened the fridge to see a plate it in with a note that read “Vector” on it. I wasn’t exactly sure what it was, but I didn’t care. I was just happy to have food that wasn’t freeze-dried. The first bite was pure ecstasy. I almost cried.

I managed to figure out how to work the coffee pot and got it going. I cracked open the kitchen window, and a gentle cool breeze made its way in. I leaned back against the kitchen counter and rubbed the sleep from my eyes, yawning. My eyes and face felt puffy from all of the sobbing I had done the night before. My bun was starting to fall out from rolling around, and I’m sure I looked like hell. I was hoping to be able to get a cup and get back upstairs before he came down. Even though there wasn’t even really a friendship between us, I wanted to stay out of sight until I felt a bit more put together.

I heard a door open upstairs, followed by footsteps. It appeared I spoke too soon.

I quickly turned and faced the window, pretending that I had been looking out at birds or something and didn’t notice him coming down. My stomach dropped as I heard him making his way down the stairs, and I could feel the butterflies trying to make their way up my throat and out my mouth. I turned around once it sounded like he hit the bottom of the stairs. He was wearing the tank top and vest that he was wearing the day before, and I got a better look at how muscular his arms were. He looked strong, like he could pick me up and throw me on the ground with ease, and his bed head was tousled all over the place. He was beautiful.

“Mornin’ Daryl. I made coffee,” I said semi-cheerfully. He hardly looked at me as he came over and stood next to me, pouring himself a cup. I took a sip of mine. I hated the taste of black coffee, but I would take it over nothing.

“I’m sorry again about last night. I usually have nightmares when I sleep. Just never had a bed to fall out of until this point,” I explained.

“Dunno know why ya telling me,” he replied. His morning voice made me swoon, but he sounded cold. I tried to remind myself of what Maggie said about not taking anything too personally.

“I’ll try to make sure it doesn’t happen again.” I sipped my coffee repeatedly out of anxiety. He stared out the window and sipped as his. There was what felt like an eternity of silence before he said anything.

“What’s your name ‘gain?”

“Vector.”

“The hell kinda name’s that?”

“Oh, Lil’ Ass Kicker is fine, but Vector is a problem?”

“Ya parents give ya that?” I sighed and shook my head, taking another sip of my drink.

“It’s my last name, so I guess they kind of did.” I could feel where this conversation was potentially going, which was uncomfortable territory, so I thought of an excuse to leave, “I should probably go check on Aaron.” Which was true, I did need to go check on him. His dressing needed to be changed, and hopefully there were some antibiotics and painkillers in the infirmary I could get him.

I set my cup down and scurried over to the stairs to go up and grab my glasses and bag. After I came back down, I took my bun out and flipped my head over, shaking my long black hair out. Tying it up wet had caused it to become wavy, which was a little bit of a confidence booster. I zipped up my boots and turned to Daryl. He had turned and was leaning up against the counter, facing me. I could feel my face start to get hot.

“Thanks for…whatever this was,” I told him before heading out the front door.

We were across from the infirmary, so the walk was short. It had started to get a little brighter, and I could see lights had been turned on in some houses. The only sounds were some birds and the sound of my boots on the ground. It was so peaceful, tranquil—things that I didn’t think were possible again after the world fell.

In the infirmary, I grabbed, gloves, gauze, padding, a bottle of painkillers, and three different kinds of antibiotics, in case he was allergic to any. I saw a light on in their house, so I figured it would be safe to approach. I gently knocked on the door, making sure not to startle anyone inside. After a minute, Eric opened the door.

“So the doctor makes house calls,” he laughed. He embraced me in a hug, which I wasn’t prepared for but gladly accepted.

“Mornin’. How did he sleep?” I asked, stepping in and allowing Eric to close the door behind me.

“He didn’t really. I was going to come get you last night for some painkillers, but Maggie said you were out cold. I didn’t wanna bother you given it was probably the first good night’s sleep you’ve had in a long time,” Eric explained.

“Oh my God, you can come get me anytime something’s wrong. That’s what I’m here for.” I unzipped my boots.”Now where is he? I come bearing painkillers and antibiotics.” I followed Eric up the stairs into their bedroom where Aaron was lying half-asleep.

“Wake up sleepyhead, the doctor’s here,” Eric told him, leaning over and giving him a kiss on the forehead. Aaron tilted his head over and looked at me.

“Sup doc?” he said to me, and I suppressed a chuckle.

“Sorry to wake you, but we should get that dressing on your wound changed. And I have painkillers.” A look of relief flooded Aaron’s face. “Now do you know if you’re allergic to any antibiotics? I grabbed a few just in case.” He shook his head.

“I don’t think so,” he replied. I knelt down next to the bed and started taking supplies out of my bag. I slipped the gloves on once I had everything out that I needed.

“Can I get you anything Vector?” Eric asked me, “I made coffee not too long ago.”

“You’re so sweet. Umm, some water would be cool. I had coffee already,” I said, “can you also grab me a rag? Run a little under some warm water?” He nodded and stepped away, and I began carefully unwrapping Aaron’s ankle.

“So how are you and your roommate getting along?” Aaron asked. I set the gauze on the floor next to me. I could feel myself starting to turn red, so I shifted some hair in front of my face to try to hide it.

“At best, I’m being tolerated,” I explained, “he’s hardly said a word to me. Maggie said not to take personally, but it’s hard not to.” I gently peeled back the padding. His wound was looking about as good as it could given how it occurred. I folded the padding in half and wrapped the used gauze around it, tying a knot to keep it together.

“Oh my god, you’re blushing,”,” Aaron exclaimed. I couldn’t toss any more hair in front of my face, or I wouldn’t be able to work. I just swallowed hard and kept going. Eric, my saving grace, came back in with some water and the rag.

“Thank you,” I said, taking the rag from him. I began wiping up the dried blood from around the top of his wound.

“I’m making breakfast. I think we’d both love it if you’d stay for some. It’s the least we can do after all you’ve done for Aaron. For both of us.” Eric said.

“Aww, thank you. I’d love to,” I replied. I had finished the plate Maggie left for me, but I wasn’t going to pass up home-cooked food after months of freeze-dried ice cream. Eric went back downstairs, and Aaron tried to get me back on talking about Daryl.

“You’re still blushing.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh my God, you have a crush on Daryl.” I avoided his gaze as I pressed the freshly-unwrapped, clean pad to his leg and began wrapping fresh gauze around it.

“Here, this is amoxicillin. It looks like there’s enough for maybe a week in here. Take it three times a day, around every 8 hours.” I finished wrapping his wound and slipped my gloves off, grabbing the pill bottle and placing it on the nightstand near me, “and I found some Tylenol. Take 2 every 4-6 hours, and if it doesn’t help, let me know. I can see what else they have going

on in the infirmary. Change your dressing once a day. I’ll leave some supplies here for you for that.”

“So are you just going to ignore what I said?” he asked. I finally met his gaze, and my face was as red as could be.”Wow, you’re really blushing now.”

I inhaled deeply before letting out a long sigh. “Just…please don’t say anything to anyone. I just got here. I can’t fuck anything up.”

“Your secret’s safe with me,” he reassured.

Finding Myself, Finding You: Chapter Five

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Story is 18+ for mature content/themes, minors do not interact please

TW/CWs for this story--implied/referenced past rape, canonical violence, non-canonical violence, blood, gore, referenced past suicide, swearing, surgery, excessive drinking, nightmares, panic attacks, mention of scars, vomiting, amputation, medical procedures, non-con medical procedures, referenced past medical torture, referenced past drugging, attempted sexual assault, panic attacks, mental health struggles, referenced sibling death, referenced parent death

Each chapter will have its own TW/CWs listed

This story, Lydia Vector, her family & bestie (c) me, TheVeganDarkElf

TWD & its characters (c) AMC & Robert Kirkman, the writer of the comic series

TW/CWs for this chapter--swearing, typical TWD violence (killing walkers), Daryl being kind of mean, mentions of a sex toy, mentions of blood (if you squint, maybe?)

Word count: 2.4k

After some time, Eric brought breakfast upstairs, and we spent probably a few hours there, just chatting and getting to know each other. They told me about how they met, their families, how they ended up in Alexandria. I told them about my family, some of the things I’d seen working in the ER, my best friend on the other side of the country. They also told me more about the other residents of Alexandria. It was nice to just be able to sit back and shoot the shit with other people. To be able to commune with my fellow humans again, to spend hours simply talking with other people--it brought me a feeling of peace that I didn’t know would be possible again in a world like this.

Eventually, there was a knock on their front door, and Eric got up to answer it. Shortly thereafter, there was an additional set of footsteps coming up the stairs.

“Vector!” I heard Rick call out. I cocked my head back as I heard him step into the room.

“‘Sup cowboy?” I asked him. Aaron chuckled softly. “Are my medical services required?” He shook his head.

“I want you to go out on a run with Daryl,” he explained. I felt my breath catch in my throat, and those butterflies from this morning returned and continued their dance in my stomach.

“Hmm-what?” I choked out.

“A short one. I think it’d be good for you to see what they’re like. Since you’re our medic, you won’t really be going outside the walls if we can help it,” he said. I let you a small sigh and nodded.

“Does this mean I can have my weapons back?”

“Yes, they’re all downstairs.”

“Kay, I’ll be down in a sec,” I replied. I felt Aaron place a hand on my shoulder as Rick made his way down the stairs. I grabbed a couple rolls of gauze and pads, as I always like to have some on my person. The rest were left on the nightstand next to Aaron. I looked back over my shoulder and saw him smiling at me. “Don’t say anything. I want to throw up. Now do you remember the medication instructions?”

“Sure do,” he replied. I put my backpack over my shoulders and propped myself up to my feet.

“If you need anything, I should be back soon,” I said, then lowering my voice to a whisper, “wish me luck.”

“You’ll be fine,” he assured. I gave him a small smile before turning and heading down the stairs. I grabbed my weapons off the table, sliding my leg holster back on and putting one of the guns in it. I stopped and thanked Eric for their hospitality before heading outside.

There was no sign of Daryl, so I started making my way to the front gate. As I passed by our place, though, he and Rick came outside.

“The new girl? Ya serious?” Daryl said, clearly irritated.

“She claims to have amazing combat skills,” Rick responded, looking over at me, “let her prove it.” I folded my arms across my chest and locked eyes with Daryl, shoving the flutters back down into my stomach.

“I mean, if you really want, I can prove it right now. Unless you're scared” I smirked, “and don’t worry. When you get bit, I can amputate your foot as well.” Daryl shoulder-checked Rick as he walked past us, his crossbow swaying against his back. I looked back at Rick and gave him an “oh no” face.

“Thoughts and prayers,” I mouthed, crossing my fingers and turning to follow Daryl to the front gate.

I spent the short walk trying not to throw up. My anxiety was through the roof, and I started overthinking about what I would say. A gentle breeze blew through his hair. It looked so soft, which complimented how rugged the rest of his appearance was. Near the front gate, there was a small car waiting for us. I was under the assumption we would be walking, but hopefully, a car meant that there would be a good amount we would be bringing back. I buckled myself up, and once the ok was given to open the gate, we were off. I didn’t know where we were going, but he seemed to. My eyes fell to my rope scars, and feeling triggered, I pulled my knife out and whipped it open, holding the handle and resting it on my leg pointing upwards. I guess Daryl could see it in his peripheral vision.

“I ain’t gonna hurt ya,” he said, keeping his eyes ahead of him.

“I don’t know that,” I replied, looking over at him and eyeing him up and down. He had his left arm resting on the windowsill, right hand on the steering wheel. He looked so calm, like this was just another day for him, like he’d done this a thousand times. Like the world hadn’t completely fallen apart around him. Just the sight of him made me swoon.

“Don’t ya think if I wanted, Id’da done somethin’ already?”

“I guess, yeah.”

There was silence for what felt like ages. Uncomfortable silence. Usually, I wasn’t one to be bothered by such a thing, but this time was different. I wanted to get to know this beautiful human. I wanted to know that he didn’t hate me.

“So…Daryl…what, uh…what did you do…before…before all of this?” He didn’t say a word, didn’t even look at me. I was already kicking myself.

“Well, I guess I’ll talk about myself then. I was literally a month away from finishing my residency, and my brothers were home from deployment. I think the last surgery I did was a skin graft for a burn victim. Uh, my favorite color is blue—“

“Why?” I was surprised to hear anything come out of him, let alone a question that would allow the conversation to continue.

“Oh, uh, I guess I’d never thought about that. Maybe beca—“

“No, why are ya still goin’ on?” I leaned back and stared out the passenger window. That one did sting a little bit. I figured maybe talking about the world before all of this may have been a touchy subject.

“Ooh, do you wanna see my more unique weapon?” If he didn’t want to talk, I thought I could potentially get a laugh out of him. I put my knife away and reached into my bag, moving shit around until I grabbed it and pulled it out. I held it up, making a semi-enthusiastic face.

“The hell’s that?” he asked.

“It’s a vibrator,” I said, smacking the top part against my hand, “it doesn’t work, but you hit ‘em upside the temple with this end, and they’re down. Plus, there’s just something so woman about stabbing a Walker through the eye with a sex toy.” I smiled, hoping maybe he’d at least chuckle or giggle a little. But nothing. I put the vibrator back in my bag, feeling defeated.

After another period of silence that felt like ages, we pulled up to a small pharmacy in the middle of nowhere. It looked rather desolate, so there hopefully wouldn’t be too many Walkers to deal with. I turned to Daryl as he slowly pulled up and put the car in park.

“You’re not much of a talker, are you?”

“Smart girl. No wonder you’re a doctor.” I was a bit taken aback. It was like he was being snide…but also kind of complimenting me at the same time? And I quite liked when he called me “smart girl.”

“I think you should talk more, Daryl.” I swallowed hard before continuing. “I like your voice. I could listen to you talk all day.” I opened my door and quickly hopped out, unsheathing my spear and looking around to make sure the coast was clear. I turned back and looked into the car, seeing him still sitting there, this time staring at me. ”Are you coming or not?” I shut the door and started making my way towards the pharmacy. I heard him get out, close his door, and lock the car.

He stepped ahead of me and pried the sliding doors open just enough for us to fit through. The only light that illuminated the small building was coming in from the front door and the windows around the top. He start slowly heading inside, his soft footfalls hardly making a sound.

“Hold on, I got this,” I whispered. I whistled loudly, the sound echoing off the walls. I heard some shuffling, and a few Walkers appeared from a couple different aisles, slowly sauntering their way toward us.

“Are ya stupid?” Daryl scolded.

“Rick wanted me to prove my combat skills, so that’s what I’m doing,” I explained.

I stepped by him and launched my spear forward at the first one, hitting it square in the forehead. I yanked it out and propped myself up onto one of the shelves to the left, climbing up it like a small ladder and flinging myself over the top to the next aisle. I landed on my feet and whipped around to the next Walker, stabbing up through the bottom of its jaw and through the top of its head. I dropped my spear with it as it fell and ran to the one behind it, taking it out with my knife. Lastly, I ran back to the aisle that was to the right of the one I started in. This last one was a bit taller than me, so I backed up to take a slight running head start. I launched myself into the air and dropkicked the Walker to the ground, using my knife to finish it off. Once I was sure it was finished, I wiped the knife off on this Walker’s shirt and walked back to Daryl. He looked surprised that not only had I finished them off which such speed, but I did it by myself. Before either of us could say anything, another one rounded the corner and started coming at us.

“Oh, looks like I missed one,” I said, turning back to Daryl and making eye contact with him. I threw my knife back over my shoulder, hitting the Walker in the head and hearing their limp body fall to the ground. “You’re welcome.” I smirked and maintained eye contact for a moment. His eyes were the most stunning shade of blue I’d ever seen. I thought for just a second about being flirty and saying that my favorite color is blue because it’s the color of his eyes, but I didn’t have the guts to be that forward. I had already made the comment about his voice, which could be interpreted as flirty, and I didn’t even know what possessed me to do that.

I turned back to retrieve my knife, and he headed over to the opposite side of the building to check for other people who may have been hiding out. I headed to the right side to do the same. Once we knew for sure the coast was clear, we started scavenging for things.

“Aw hell yeah,” I exclaimed, picking up a box off of the ground, “I found tampons!” I heard Daryl make a sound from a few aisles over. I couldn't decipher whether it was a scoff or a chuckle. “Listen, you try bleeding out of a hole in your body every 4 weeks with almost no way to really deal with it. This shit is like gold for women now.” I shoved the box into my bag and grabbed another one that I could see. I heard him putting things into what I guessed was a box that he found. We rummaged around for a bit before I found another thing to be excited about.

“Holy shit, is that a can of soup?” I picked up the lone can of tomato soup and tossed it into my bag. I stood up and got on my tiptoes to look over the aisles. I could see Daryl a couple of aisles away. “Everything looks incredible when you’ve been surviving off of freeze-dried astronaut food for longer than you can remember.” I walked my way over to the actual pharmacy section of the store, hoping I’d be able to scrounge up more painkillers and antibiotics. We got lucky, and I was able to find those things, as well as barbicide, bandages, anti-itch cream, and a myriad more.

I stood up, fanning myself off. It was scorching in there, and there was almost no airflow. The only air coming in was from the front door, which I was nowhere near. My chest was already lifted from the sports bra I was wearing, but I used my forearms to lift them a bit more, trying to get literally any airflow underneath to help myself cool off.

“You wanna know what’s annoying about having breasts, Daryl?”

“Nah, but I’m sure ya gonna tell me anyway.”

“It’s like having two heat packs strapped to the front of your body at all times, and there’s nothing you can do about it,” I explained, “it’s fucking hot up in this bitch.” A bead of sweat dripped down behind my glasses and into my eye.

“Well we about cleared the place out,” he said, coming in through the pharmacy door, “help me grab this.” I nodded and followed him out. He had found four boxes that he used to fill with various items.

“Wow, we really did luck out,” I said, grabbing two of them and stacking them on top of each other, lifting them from the handles of the one on the bottom, “I mean, it’s obvious why.” We started heading back to the car, looking around out the front door to make sure the coast was clear first.

“Why?” He popped the trunk open and set the boxes he was carrying down, scooting over so I could place mine in.

“Because I’m a good luck charm,” I joked, “maybe I should come out on these runs more often. And don’t forget to tell Rick that my combat skills are exactly as good as I say they are.”

For half a second, I swear I thought I saw him blush, just a little, but he turned away too quickly for me to get a good look.

Finding Myself, Finding You: Chapter Six

Masterlist

AO3 link

Story is 18+ for mature content/themes, minors do not interact please

TW/CWs for this story--implied/referenced past rape, canonical violence, non-canonical violence, blood, gore, referenced past suicide, swearing, surgery, excessive drinking, nightmares, panic attacks, mention of scars, vomiting, amputation, medical procedures, non-con medical procedures, referenced past medical torture, referenced past drugging, attempted sexual assault, panic attacks, mental health struggles, referenced sibling death, referenced parent death

Each chapter will have its own TW/CWs listed

This story, Lydia Vector, her family & bestie (c) me, TheVeganDarkElf

TWD & its characters (c) AMC & Robert Kirkman, the writer of the comic series

TW/CWs for this chapter--swearing, alcohol consumption (nothing excessive but maybe they get a little tipsy), brief mention of blood/medical stuff, joking about getting someone drunk

Word count: 2.6k

For the most part, the ride back was silent. I stared out the window, overthinking about everything I had said to Daryl over and over again. I wasn’t sure what had changed, but the silence was comfortable this time. Just before we got back, he finally spoke up.

“Why do ya go by Vector?”

“Hmm?” His lovely voice pulled me from my dissociation.

“Ya name. Why do ya go by Vector?”

I thought for a moment about what to say. No one had ever asked me why I never went by my first name. It was still a rather sore subject, not gonna lie, but I didn’t want to shut him down from conversation now that he was seemingly starting to open up. I thought of what to say as I went.

“Well…Vector is who I am now. I’ve, uh…had to do some things that past me can’t handle. Thus, Vector was born.” I stopped for a moment and took a deep breath before continuing “Me before used to sing in the shower, wear sundresses, dance in the street, pick flowers on walks, smile with my teeth out…shit like that. Haven’t done any of that in God knows how long.”

We pulled around to the front gate, and Daryl made some kind of signal out his window to indicate it was us. He parked around the front, where the car was before, and jumped out and around to the back. I followed suit, him saying something about going out hunting with one of the other guys shortly.

“Hey Daryl?” He set the boxes that he had grabbed down and turned his gaze to meet mine. I gave him a soft smile. “Thanks for asking. No one’s ever bothered to ask me about that before.” He simply nodded and went back to what he was doing. I heard footsteps running up behind me, so I turned to see Maggie practically running into me.

“Eric’s looking for you,” she said. The tone in her voice didn’t indicate there was any kind of urgency, but given that someone was looking for the doctor, and that this person was the partner of the person who likely needed medical attention most, I had reason to be concerned.

I turned to Daryl. ”Do you want help before I go?”

“Nah,” he scoffed, using his hand to make a “shoo, go away” motion, “go on, doc.” I turned and walked off with Maggie in the direction of Eric and Aaron’s place.

“Hey, Rosita and I are getting together tonight. Michonne’s got Judith duty, so we’re gonna keep her company. You should come.” Excitement built up in my chest at the thought of possibly having a group of girlfriends again. "We’re gonna chat, get wine-drunk, maybe talk a little too intimately about our gentleman callers. It’ll be fun.”

“That sounds awesome. Yeah, I’ll for sure be there,” I replied, “and uh, Maggie…thank you again. For everything you’ve done for me since I got here.” I stopped her and gave her a hug. “You’re a good friend.”

“It’s not a problem, really. Us gals gotta stick together, right?”

“Damn straight. Wait, I have something to show you.” I dropped my bag to the ground and dug into it, pulling out the two small boxes of tampons I managed to find. "Look what the hell I found!” She grabbed the boxes from me, flipping them around until she realized what they were.

“Damn, this stuff’s like gold around here,” Maggie laughed.

“That’s what I said,” I replied, chuckling and taking the boxes back from her, shoving them back into my bag.

“Anyway, Rosita and I will stop and get you on our way to Michonne and Rick’s.” I smiled in response, and she walked off, myself continuing over to Eric and Aaron’s. Eric was sitting on the steps of their front porch, reading a novel of some sort.

“You were looking for me?” I asked him. He tilted his head up from his book and practically leaped up when he saw me. I was impressed with the speed at which he brought himself to his feet.

“Aaron said he needed to see you when you got back,” Eric explained, opening the door for me and letting me in in front of him, “he didn’t say why.” I unzipped my boots and kicked them off, leaving them by the front door. He sounded worried, as any partner would.

“Well, hopefully, it’s not too bad then,” I reassured, “you wait here, and I’ll come get you if he asks. Y’know, doctor-patient confidentiality and whatnot.” He nodded and stepped back out onto the porch, closing the door behind him. I tried to remember what sorts of medications I grabbed on my run, in case I needed to access them quickly.

I knocked softly on the door and announced myself before entering. “Hey Aaron, it’s Vector.” I stepped in, and he was laying in the same spot on the bed I’d left him in. I didn’t immediately notice and bleeding from his leg, no discoloration in his face or arms, no rashes I could see, and he wasn’t making any kind of face to indicate that he was in immense pain. In fact, he was smirking. “You needed me?” He giggled and gestured for me to sit down on the floor next to him.

“Nah, I just wanted to know how your run with Daryl went.” I felt my eyes rolling so hard, I could practically see the inside of my skull. I let out an exasperated sigh.

“Dude,” I huffed, “you cannot scare me like that. And Eric. He was really concerned something was wrong.”

“Yeah, not my best move. But you said not to tell anyone. How else was I supposed to get you here?”

“Oh, I don’t know, ask,” I sassed, “but anyway, do you want to know or not?” He nodded, and I plopped myself down cross-legged on the floor next to the bed.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I spent probably half an hour with Aaron, explaining how the run went and me overthinking and over-analyzing every single little thing that both of us said and did. Afterwards, I went and reassured Eric that everything was fine without giving away any info about Aaron having lied to get me there.

I came back to an empty house, so I figured Daryl was out hunting. Not knowing how long I’d have to myself, I took the time to do some cleaning up. It wasn’t terrible in there, but to sum it up nicely, you could tell a man lived there alone until yesterday. I had to borrow cleaning supplies from Carol after not being able to find any around the house.

“I’m glad you’re here. Someone’s gotta keep that place clean,” she joked.

I had retrieved some produce and herbs from the garden, which felt like such a treat. Being able to pick fresh produce after so long was like a dream. I used them to make soup for dinner, which I made a larger batch of to leave some for Daryl. I knew I wasn’t obligated to cook for both of us, but I enjoyed making food for other people. While it cooled, I took a quick shower, as I didn’t have to wash my hair this time, and changed into a workout set I had brought with me, consisting of a pair of black spandex shorts and a black sports bra that was more built like a crop top. To kill time until my new friends came, I sat down next to the window in my room and opened it up to allow the breeze in.

I folded my arms and rested them on the windowsill, resting my chin on them. I could see some of the other residents of Alexandria, whom I didn’t know very well, and Carol working out in the garden. The sun was going to start going down soon, and I wondered if Daryl was going to be back before it got dark. Sure, he was a strong guy, and he could clearly take care of himself, but I felt more comfortable knowing he was safe inside the walls.

A bright little butterfly came over and joined me, fluttering around my head. I slowly put my hand out, sticking my index finger out on the off chance that they would land on me. Surprisingly, and lucky for me, they gracefully landed on the padding of my finger.

“Hi my sweet,” I whispered as to not scare them. As a kid, I had a fascination with butterflies, moths, any pollinators really. When my mom wasn’t being the best family law attorney around, she was in her garden, tending to her flowers. She made sure to teach my siblings and me the importance of the local pollinators. Butterflies, bees, hummingbirds…they all made me think of her. “Aren’t you just the most stunning creature I’ve ever seen?”

They stood on my finger for a bit, sometimes adjusting their footing and flapping their wings softly, as if to show off their bright hues. All I could think about was how much my mom would love this. She’d be gushing quietly, tiptoeing over to retrieve her phone to snap a picture.

I had an idea, and I slowly began to lift my hand toward my face. I closed my eyes as to not intimidate them with my large peepers and brought my finger to the tip of my nose. I felt their little legs moving around, and they made their way onto my nose. I smiled, keeping it small so I didn’t hit their wings with my cheeks. They continued moving their wings occasionally, and I did feel them tickle my face a couple of times, which made me giggle softly.

I felt them turn their body around to face back out the window. I lifted my index finger back to my nose, and they scuttled back across to it. “Thank you, sweetheart.” I gently put my hand out the window, and with that, they gave a few more beats of their wings before flying away. If I believed differently, I would’ve thought that was my mother coming to greet me. But I didn’t believe in any of that stuff.

I sat there for a few moments, watching them fly away off toward the community garden. I hoped they would grace the other residents with their presence as they had graced mine. I shifted myself around to get up, and I saw Daryl leaning in the door frame, arms crossed, watching me. I almost had a heart attack from being startled.

“Jesus Christ!” I yelped, falling back onto the window, “how long have you been standing there? You scared the shit out of me. I didn’t even hear you come in.” He didn’t acknowledge my question, or anything else I said, in his response.

“Maggie ’n Rosita are here for ya.”

“Oh, sick.” I got up and slid past him, our arms brushing as I went by. That moment felt like forever, the moment that my skin met his, and it gave me goosebumps and nearly had me tongue-tied as I tried to talk. “I, uh, made dinner. It shouldn’t be scalding now. You’re welcome to whatever you want of it.” He looked like he wasn’t sure how to respond to that.

“Thanks,” was all he said. He kept his position in the door frame, arms still crossed. I scurried down the stairs to my boots and quickly put them on, opening the door to see my friends. I turned back to Daryl.

“See ya later.” I gave him a smile before closing the door and following Maggie and Rosita. They were looking at each other, the looks on their faces communicating things they weren’t saying out loud.

Michonne answered the door with Judith in her arms, and she seemed excited to have the company. Her face was beaming. I figured this was something these three did often, got together and just had girl time. I hadn’t had girl time in years.

“What are Rick and Carl up to tonight?” I asked, propping myself up on one of the bar stools next to Michonne. Judith was giggling and babbling, looking around at the rest of us with the fascination only babies possessed.

“I don’t know, father and son target practice or some shit,” Michonne explained, “said Glenn and some of the other guys were gonna join.”

“I’m gonna pour myself a glass,” Rosita said, walking into the kitchen, “rest of you want one?” Michonne and Maggie giggled and nodded. “Vector?” I fidgeted a little in my seat.

“I don’t know. I don’t think Alexandria’s only medical professional should be drinking. Plus, I’m a bit of a lightweight.”

“Oh come on, this is what we’re here for,” Maggie exclaimed, “to drink a little too much and act like everything hasn’t gone to shit.”

“You’re here now. It’s safe. You can relax a little bit,” Michonne assured.

“Ok, but just one,” I replied, “If I drink too much, I’ll start saying things I don’t wanna.” The three exchanged glances and smirked.

“We’re gettin’ her drunk, right?” Michonne said to them, smiling.

“Oh yeah,” Rosita laughed, followed by Maggie’s “absolutely.” I rolled my eyes and accepted the glass Rosita held out to me. I wasn’t much of a red wine drinker, but with how much of a lightweight I was, wine was the safest option.

The evening turned into a gossip session. They asked me a lot of questions about my life before this, and I theirs, and what got me interested in being a doctor. I got to hear way too many details about the sex lives of Maggie & Glenn and Rick & Michonne. Maggie made a comment about something Glenn liked, and I nearly spat my drink out.

“I’m going to try to forget about that,” I laughed.

Minutes turned into hours, and I was eventually two glasses deep, despite my initial protest of only one. Michonne attempted to hand me a third. I was already tipsy, but like Michonne said, I could relax a little bit. I would start being a serious community member tomorrow.

“What about you, Vector? How are you getting on with everyone?”

“Everyone here’s been wonderful. Y’all are so kind. I can tell that people here really care about each other. Thanks again for letting me stay,” I said, holding my glass up as if I was giving a toast.

“Anyone here particularly wonderful?” Maggie asked, chuckling. I bit my bottom lip. I knew what she was asking, but I hoped feigning ignorance would change the subject.

“What do you mean?”

“Is there anyone you’re interested in…romantically or otherwise?” I couldn’t say I didn’t try.

“Well, seeing how many of the men here are taken, the options are limited.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.” She eyed me as I took another sip of my wine. "If we guess it right, will you tell us?” I swirled the drink in my hand, my heart rate picking up as my anxiety spiked.

“Again, the options are limited, you’d eventually get it right, so I guess yeah, go for it.” They squealed like a group of girls in high school and started naming off the male residents, all of which I either said no or shook my head to.

“Does that just leave Daryl? No…is it Daryl?” Michonne asked. I could feel myself starting to turn red, and their faces began to light up at the realization that they had got it right. I averted my gaze from the group. They were squealing like a bunch of high-school girls. Rosita practically jumped out of her chair.

“You’re blushing so hard right now!” she yelled, pointing at me.

“I have got to figure out how to stop doing that,” I mumbled to myself.

Finding Myself, Finding You: Chapter Seven

Masterlist

AO3 link

Story is 18+ for mature content/themes, minors do not interact please

TW/CWs for this story--implied/referenced past rape, canonical violence, non-canonical violence, blood, gore, referenced past suicide, swearing, surgery, excessive drinking, nightmares, panic attacks, mention of scars, vomiting, amputation, medical procedures, non-con medical procedures, referenced past medical torture, referenced past drugging, attempted sexual assault, panic attacks, mental health struggles, referenced sibling death, referenced parent death

Each chapter will have its own TW/CWs listed

This story, Lydia Vector, her family & bestie (c) me, TheVeganDarkElf

TWD & its characters (c) AMC & Robert Kirkman, the writer of the comic series

TW/CWs for this chapter--swearing, alcohol consumption (nothing excessive but Vector does get tipsy to the point she's dizzy)

Word count: 2.3k

“Oh my God, Vector, you have to tell us everything now. Have you talked to him much?” Rosita asked. She was beaming. I was beginning to regret the second glass of wine, let alone the third one in my hand. I set it down on the counter behind me, afraid that if I continued, I’d say some things I didn’t want to share.

“I mean, you know him, he doesn’t really like to talk. Rick sent the two of us on a run this morning. Talked a little bit, but nothing crazy.”

“You were alone with him outside the walls?” Michonne gushed, bouncing Judith up and down on her leg. Even the little baby, though she couldn’t understand what was happening around her, looked excited for me.

“Oh shut up,” I scoffed, “like I said, it was nothing crazy. We headed out, I tried to start a conversation, he shut me down, I showed off my combat skills because Rick told him to have me “prove them,” we got the shit and talked a little on the way back.” I paused for a moment, picking up my glass and taking another sip. I had decided I would need liquid courage if I was going to make it out of this conversation alive.

“Were you flirty at all?” Rosita asked. I felt my cheeks beginning to turn red again.

“I’m not drunk enough for this,” I replied, tilting my head back and consuming the rest of my glass in one swig. I set it down again, this time not going to have another one. “I may or may not have told him that he should talk more because I like his voice…and that I could listen to him talk all day. Do you think that was too much?”

I scanned the room, looking at each of my new friends. Their jaws were on the floor, their mouths upturned into giddy smiles. They kept their eyes locked on me as I adjusted myself in my seat awkwardly. I held my breath, regretting that I had shared such a piece of information with people who were practically strangers, and waited for one of them to say something, anything.

“Oh my God!” Michonne finally exclaimed. I let out the air I was holding. “Well, what did he say?”

“What I imagine is a classic Daryl response, which is nothing.” Rosita got up from her chair to get herself another glass of wine.

“What did you talk about on the way back?” she asked as she passed by me to the kitchen.

I scratched at the skin at the side of my right thumb with my index finger, a habit I often fell to when I was especially anxious. “Umm, it was short. He started it, asked me why I go by Vector. I answered and that was it.”

“Girl! That is a get-to-know-you question. Daryl doesn’t ask those. Of anyone. And he’s the one who started it,” Maggie said. She stopped, briefly looking over my shoulder at Rosita before locking eyes with me again. “What were you doing when Rosita and I got there earlier to get you?”

I took my glass, which Rosita had so kindly filled with water, and sipped at it. “How’s that relevant?”

“Just answer the question.”

“Umm, I was just chilling in my room, sitting my the window, people watching. A butterfly came along at one point and joined me. Sat on my finger for a little, then on my nose before they flew away. Why?”

“Holy fuck, she’s like a goddamn Disney princess,” Rosita commented, plunking herself back into the chair she was occupying.

“How long were you doing that for?”

“Uh, I probably sat by my window for like half a hour. The butterfly situation lasted like five minutes maybe. Then I went to get up and had a damn heart attack because I didn’t realize Daryl was there. He didn’t say anything until I turned around. Again, why?” Maggie and Rosita exchanged excited glances, the same looks they exchanged on our walk over here, before Maggie continued.

“So when we got there, Daryl said he’d go get you. We were waiting for you for a few minutes. I saw him through the cracked door. He was just standing there in your doorway.” Her face was lit up at this point. “He could’ve just yelled for you or let us in to get you. I think he wanted an excuse to see you, talk to you, even for just a second. I think he was watching you the whole time.”

I felt the butterflies in my stomach fluttering like mad at the thought of him standing in my doorway, just watching me having a wholesome, innocent moment with a butterfly. If he indeed was standing there the whole time, what was he thinking about me? Did he think I was some dumb woman who clearly wasn’t cut out to survive the apocalypse? Did he think I was silly and there were better things I could be doing? Or did he think it was, dare I say, cute?

“I don’t know. I don’t even think he likes me. I think I’m being tolerated at best.”

“If he really didn’t like you, you wouldn’t have to guess. You’d know,” Maggie explained, “he’d make it abundantly clear.” Her reassurance, combined with the fact that she’d known Daryl for much longer than me, brought me some comfort. At least it seemed like he didn’t hate me.

“Well, if he wanted to see me or talk to me, he could just do that,” I said, “I don’t bite.”

“Daryl’s a little…too awkward when it comes to that. I don’t think he’s ever been with a woman,” Maggie replied. I cocked my eyebrow at her.

“What about a man?” I asked.

“I don’t think he’s ever been with anyone,” Michonne cut in. I turned my confused expression in her direction. I found it hard to believe that someone as strong, handsome, and mysterious as Daryl hadn’t been with anyone, romantically or otherwise.

“Him? Nah, I don’t believe he’s never been with anyone. Have you seen the man?” I rolled my eyes back and giggled. “He’s gorgeous. I’m sure there’s always been both men and women fawning over him.” They were now giggling at me, my level of tipsiness making itself known. Had I not eaten before coming, I’m sure I would’ve been far more drunk.

The front door handle jiggled, and in came Carl, Rick, and Glenn. Glenn waltzed over to Maggie, practically scooping her up to give her a kiss. Carl gave me a small wave and a “hey Vector” before walking past us to his room, presumably. Rick approached Michonne and gave her a smooch as well, taking Judith before turning to me.

“Makin’ friends Vector?”

“You know it, cowboy.” When I first got here and woke up in the cell, I had asked Rick for his name so I could address him properly, but ever since, I had almost exclusively referred to him as “cowboy.”

“Rick, Glenn, we have a question for you,” Maggie asked them. Michonne and Rosita looked like they were trying to stop themselves from busting out laughing.

“No we don’t.” I was perhaps a bit too quick with my response.

“Do you think Daryl’s ever been involved with anyone romantically? Is that something y’all’ve talked about?” She was trying to suppress her own laughter at this point. Glenn and Rick exchanged glances. Rick took the liberty of responding for both of them.

“He’s never talked about it, we haven't asked. But no, I don’t think he has. Why?” Maggie turned to me and gave me a “see, told you” look. Her diverting her attention to me caused Glenn and Rick to follow, as if her doing so was an answer to Rick’s question. I was probably more red than the brightest tomato any of them had ever seen.

“Does somebody have a little schoolgirl crush?” Glenn teased.

“Are you shitting my dick right now?” I mumbled under my breath, “y’all don’t keep secrets around here, do you?”

“If it makes you feel better, I think I can speak for both Maggie and I when we way we would’ve let it slip to them at some point,” Michonne said. I hopped up off of my stool and walked over to my boots.

“I don’t see how that’s supposed to make me feel better. None of you are to say a word to him about this. Aaron’s the only other one who knows.”

“So almost all of us that really know Daryl know about it?” Rosita laughed.

“I guess, yeah.” I figured Glenn and Rick getting back was the sign that it was time to leave, so I started zipping my boots up. Rosita got up and came to do the same, as did Maggie, Glenn following close behind her. ”Thank you for inviting me to hang with y’all. Now what we discussed in this room stays in this room. This circle is HIPAA compliant. Do I make myself clear?” They all nodded.

“Crystal,” Michonne smiled. I finished putting my boots on and stepped out of the way for the others to do the same. I followed them out the door and down the steps of the front porch after saying goodnight to Rick and Michonne.

“Invite me again when y’all do that,” I said, “but don’t let me drink so much. I’m starting to feel dizzy.” I held my hands out at my sides, just a bit, to help myself as I walked.

“Geez, you really are a lightweight. You gonna be ok?” Maggie asked, placing a hand on my shoulder as we continued.

“Don’t worry, she has a big, strong, handsome man at home that can help her up into bed,” Rosita teased. I was too focused on making sure I didn’t fall over as I walked to come up with a clever response to her snarky remark.

“Oh hush,” was all I could muster up.

Glenn and Maggie’s place was first, and Rosita walked with me the rest of the way to mine, as hers was past me. She made sure I got up the front steps without falling before heading off.

“Hey Rosita?” I slowly turned to her, and she stopped and looked back at me, “y’all are really cool. Thanks for allowing me to come.”

“Anytime. Now just get into bed safe,” she commented, turning and heading off. I slowly approached the front door and tried to be as quiet as possible as I let myself in in case Daryl was asleep.

But he wasn’t. He was standing in the kitchen, and he had just poured himself some whiskey. It smelled like gasoline and only made my dizziness worse. I let the door close softly behind me and carefully lowered myself to the ground to take my boots off.

“The hell ya doin’?” I turned my head in his direction, and by that point I was so dizzy that all I could make out clearly was vague shapes and colors. I could tell he was wearing something black, and he was leaning over the kitchen island, but that was about it.

“I…am a lightweight…and I’m…so dizzy right now…I can barely see you…” I took my shoes out from under me and cautiously stood up, making sure I had my footing before I started walking toward the stairs.

“What’d ya drink?” Daryl asked. My lack of sobriety made me question whether or not the slight hint of concern in his voice was real or if I had imagined it.

“I had…three glasses…of wine…” I replied.

“Jesus, ya really are a lightweight.” I kept my hands out at my sides to maintain my balance, stepping and stopping for a moment before taking another one, “careful goin’ up them stairs now. Fall and break ya neck if ya slip, and I ain’t cleanin’ that up.” I didn’t say or do anything, I just kept my slow pace toward the stairs. As I approached the bottom step, I heard Daryl’s footsteps come around from the kitchen and stand somewhere behind me.

“What are you…doing?” I turned my head to talk back over my shoulder.

“Makin’ sure ya don’t break ya neck. We just got a doctor. Can’t have her gettin’ herself killed that fast.” He swirled his whiskey in his hand. I didn’t notice the sound of ice clinking against the cup. The man took his whiskey neat—couldn’t say I was surprised by that.

I carefully stepped up onto the first step, grabbing onto both sides of the railing with my hands to steady myself. To say I was humiliated would be an understatement. I didn’t need a babysitter, but my low tolerance for alcohol demanded I have one.

“Well this…is…embarrassing,” I said as I continued making my way up the steps.

“Nah, we all get a lil’ too drunk sometimes,” he said, “easy escape in a world like this. Hard not to.” After I was probably halfway up, I heard his footsteps again, this time coming to the bottom of the steps before stopping. When I was almost at the top, he came up the stairs a bit, always making sure to leave a distance of several steps between us. I didn’t know if that was because he was uncomfortable getting too close or he didn’t want me getting uncomfortable with him getting too close. Once I had finally made the long, arduous journey to my bedroom door, I turned back to him. My dizziness was only getting worse, but I could make out the shape of him on the steps, facing my direction.

“Thanks for…not letting me…break my neck…Daryl.” I gave him a tipsy smile and a two-finger salute. “Goodnight.”

“‘Night,” he responded. I shut the door, taking my glasses off and setting them on my dresser before allowing myself to fall back onto the bed. I crawled up toward my pillow and was asleep before my head even touched it.

Finding Myself, Finding You: Chapter Seven

Masterlist

AO3 link

Story is 18+ for mature content/themes, minors do not interact please

TW/CWs for this story--implied/referenced past rape, canonical violence, non-canonical violence, blood, gore, referenced past suicide, swearing, surgery, excessive drinking, nightmares, panic attacks, mention of scars, vomiting, amputation, medical procedures, non-con medical procedures, referenced past medical torture, referenced past drugging, attempted sexual assault, panic attacks, mental health struggles, referenced sibling death, referenced parent death

Each chapter will have its own TW/CWs listed

This story, Lydia Vector, her family & bestie (c) me, TheVeganDarkElf

TWD & its characters (c) AMC & Robert Kirkman, the writer of the comic series

TW/CWs for this chapter--swearing, alcohol consumption (nothing excessive but Vector does get tipsy to the point she's dizzy)

Word count: 2.3k

“Oh my God, Vector, you have to tell us everything now. Have you talked to him much?” Rosita asked. She was beaming. I was beginning to regret the second glass of wine, let alone the third one in my hand. I set it down on the counter behind me, afraid that if I continued, I’d say some things I didn’t want to share.

“I mean, you know him, he doesn’t really like to talk. Rick sent the two of us on a run this morning. Talked a little bit, but nothing crazy.”

“You were alone with him outside the walls?” Michonne gushed, bouncing Judith up and down on her leg. Even the little baby, though she couldn’t understand what was happening around her, looked excited for me.

“Oh shut up,” I scoffed, “like I said, it was nothing crazy. We headed out, I tried to start a conversation, he shut me down, I showed off my combat skills because Rick told him to have me “prove them,” we got the shit and talked a little on the way back.” I paused for a moment, picking up my glass and taking another sip. I had decided I would need liquid courage if I was going to make it out of this conversation alive.

“Were you flirty at all?” Rosita asked. I felt my cheeks beginning to turn red again.

“I’m not drunk enough for this,” I replied, tilting my head back and consuming the rest of my glass in one swig. I set it down again, this time not going to have another one. “I may or may not have told him that he should talk more because I like his voice…and that I could listen to him talk all day. Do you think that was too much?”

I scanned the room, looking at each of my new friends. Their jaws were on the floor, their mouths upturned into giddy smiles. They kept their eyes locked on me as I adjusted myself in my seat awkwardly. I held my breath, regretting that I had shared such a piece of information with people who were practically strangers, and waited for one of them to say something, anything.

“Oh my God!” Michonne finally exclaimed. I let out the air I was holding. “Well, what did he say?”

“What I imagine is a classic Daryl response, which is nothing.” Rosita got up from her chair to get herself another glass of wine.

“What did you talk about on the way back?” she asked as she passed by me to the kitchen.

I scratched at the skin at the side of my right thumb with my index finger, a habit I often fell to when I was especially anxious. “Umm, it was short. He started it, asked me why I go by Vector. I answered and that was it.”

“Girl! That is a get-to-know-you question. Daryl doesn’t ask those. Of anyone. And he’s the one who started it,” Maggie said. She stopped, briefly looking over my shoulder at Rosita before locking eyes with me again. “What were you doing when Rosita and I got there earlier to get you?”

I took my glass, which Rosita had so kindly filled with water, and sipped at it. “How’s that relevant?”

“Just answer the question.”

“Umm, I was just chilling in my room, sitting my the window, people watching. A butterfly came along at one point and joined me. Sat on my finger for a little, then on my nose before they flew away. Why?”

“Holy fuck, she’s like a goddamn Disney princess,” Rosita commented, plunking herself back into the chair she was occupying.

“How long were you doing that for?”

“Uh, I probably sat by my window for like half a hour. The butterfly situation lasted like five minutes maybe. Then I went to get up and had a damn heart attack because I didn’t realize Daryl was there. He didn’t say anything until I turned around. Again, why?” Maggie and Rosita exchanged excited glances, the same looks they exchanged on our walk over here, before Maggie continued.

“So when we got there, Daryl said he’d go get you. We were waiting for you for a few minutes. I saw him through the cracked door. He was just standing there in your doorway.” Her face was lit up at this point. “He could’ve just yelled for you or let us in to get you. I think he wanted an excuse to see you, talk to you, even for just a second. I think he was watching you the whole time.”

I felt the butterflies in my stomach fluttering like mad at the thought of him standing in my doorway, just watching me having a wholesome, innocent moment with a butterfly. If he indeed was standing there the whole time, what was he thinking about me? Did he think I was some dumb woman who clearly wasn’t cut out to survive the apocalypse? Did he think I was silly and there were better things I could be doing? Or did he think it was, dare I say, cute?

“I don’t know. I don’t even think he likes me. I think I’m being tolerated at best.”

“If he really didn’t like you, you wouldn’t have to guess. You’d know,” Maggie explained, “he’d make it abundantly clear.” Her reassurance, combined with the fact that she’d known Daryl for much longer than me, brought me some comfort. At least it seemed like he didn’t hate me.

“Well, if he wanted to see me or talk to me, he could just do that,” I said, “I don’t bite.”

“Daryl’s a little…too awkward when it comes to that. I don’t think he’s ever been with a woman,” Maggie replied. I cocked my eyebrow at her.

“What about a man?” I asked.

“I don’t think he’s ever been with anyone,” Michonne cut in. I turned my confused expression in her direction. I found it hard to believe that someone as strong, handsome, and mysterious as Daryl hadn’t been with anyone, romantically or otherwise.

“Him? Nah, I don’t believe he’s never been with anyone. Have you seen the man?” I rolled my eyes back and giggled. “He’s gorgeous. I’m sure there’s always been both men and women fawning over him.” They were now giggling at me, my level of tipsiness making itself known. Had I not eaten before coming, I’m sure I would’ve been far more drunk.

The front door handle jiggled, and in came Carl, Rick, and Glenn. Glenn waltzed over to Maggie, practically scooping her up to give her a kiss. Carl gave me a small wave and a “hey Vector” before walking past us to his room, presumably. Rick approached Michonne and gave her a smooch as well, taking Judith before turning to me.

“Makin’ friends Vector?”

“You know it, cowboy.” When I first got here and woke up in the cell, I had asked Rick for his name so I could address him properly, but ever since, I had almost exclusively referred to him as “cowboy.”

“Rick, Glenn, we have a question for you,” Maggie asked them. Michonne and Rosita looked like they were trying to stop themselves from busting out laughing.

“No we don’t.” I was perhaps a bit too quick with my response.

“Do you think Daryl’s ever been involved with anyone romantically? Is that something y’all’ve talked about?” She was trying to suppress her own laughter at this point. Glenn and Rick exchanged glances. Rick took the liberty of responding for both of them.

“He’s never talked about it, we haven't asked. But no, I don’t think he has. Why?” Maggie turned to me and gave me a “see, told you” look. Her diverting her attention to me caused Glenn and Rick to follow, as if her doing so was an answer to Rick’s question. I was probably more red than the brightest tomato any of them had ever seen.

“Does somebody have a little schoolgirl crush?” Glenn teased.

“Are you shitting my dick right now?” I mumbled under my breath, “y’all don’t keep secrets around here, do you?”

“If it makes you feel better, I think I can speak for both Maggie and I when we way we would’ve let it slip to them at some point,” Michonne said. I hopped up off of my stool and walked over to my boots.

“I don’t see how that’s supposed to make me feel better. None of you are to say a word to him about this. Aaron’s the only other one who knows.”

“So almost all of us that really know Daryl know about it?” Rosita laughed.

“I guess, yeah.” I figured Glenn and Rick getting back was the sign that it was time to leave, so I started zipping my boots up. Rosita got up and came to do the same, as did Maggie, Glenn following close behind her. ”Thank you for inviting me to hang with y’all. Now what we discussed in this room stays in this room. This circle is HIPAA compliant. Do I make myself clear?” They all nodded.

“Crystal,” Michonne smiled. I finished putting my boots on and stepped out of the way for the others to do the same. I followed them out the door and down the steps of the front porch after saying goodnight to Rick and Michonne.

“Invite me again when y’all do that,” I said, “but don’t let me drink so much. I’m starting to feel dizzy.” I held my hands out at my sides, just a bit, to help myself as I walked.

“Geez, you really are a lightweight. You gonna be ok?” Maggie asked, placing a hand on my shoulder as we continued.

“Don’t worry, she has a big, strong, handsome man at home that can help her up into bed,” Rosita teased. I was too focused on making sure I didn’t fall over as I walked to come up with a clever response to her snarky remark.

“Oh hush,” was all I could muster up.

Glenn and Maggie’s place was first, and Rosita walked with me the rest of the way to mine, as hers was past me. She made sure I got up the front steps without falling before heading off.

“Hey Rosita?” I slowly turned to her, and she stopped and looked back at me, “y’all are really cool. Thanks for allowing me to come.”

“Anytime. Now just get into bed safe,” she commented, turning and heading off. I slowly approached the front door and tried to be as quiet as possible as I let myself in in case Daryl was asleep.

But he wasn’t. He was standing in the kitchen, and he had just poured himself some whiskey. It smelled like gasoline and only made my dizziness worse. I let the door close softly behind me and carefully lowered myself to the ground to take my boots off.

“The hell ya doin’?” I turned my head in his direction, and by that point I was so dizzy that all I could make out clearly was vague shapes and colors. I could tell he was wearing something black, and he was leaning over the kitchen island, but that was about it.

“I…am a lightweight…and I’m…so dizzy right now…I can barely see you…” I took my shoes out from under me and cautiously stood up, making sure I had my footing before I started walking toward the stairs.

“What’d ya drink?” Daryl asked. My lack of sobriety made me question whether or not the slight hint of concern in his voice was real or if I had imagined it.

“I had…three glasses…of wine…” I replied.

“Jesus, ya really are a lightweight.” I kept my hands out at my sides to maintain my balance, stepping and stopping for a moment before taking another one, “careful goin’ up them stairs now. Fall and break ya neck if ya slip, and I ain’t cleanin’ that up.” I didn’t say or do anything, I just kept my slow pace toward the stairs. As I approached the bottom step, I heard Daryl’s footsteps come around from the kitchen and stand somewhere behind me.

“What are you…doing?” I turned my head to talk back over my shoulder.

“Makin’ sure ya don’t break ya neck. We just got a doctor. Can’t have her gettin’ herself killed that fast.” He swirled his whiskey in his hand. I didn’t notice the sound of ice clinking against the cup. The man took his whiskey neat—couldn’t say I was surprised by that.

I carefully stepped up onto the first step, grabbing onto both sides of the railing with my hands to steady myself. To say I was humiliated would be an understatement. I didn’t need a babysitter, but my low tolerance for alcohol demanded I have one.

“Well this…is…embarrassing,” I said as I continued making my way up the steps.

“Nah, we all get a lil’ too drunk sometimes,” he said, “easy escape in a world like this. Hard not to.” After I was probably halfway up, I heard his footsteps again, this time coming to the bottom of the steps before stopping. When I was almost at the top, he came up the stairs a bit, always making sure to leave a distance of several steps between us. I didn’t know if that was because he was uncomfortable getting too close or he didn’t want me getting uncomfortable with him getting too close. Once I had finally made the long, arduous journey to my bedroom door, I turned back to him. My dizziness was only getting worse, but I could make out the shape of him on the steps, facing my direction.

“Thanks for…not letting me…break my neck…Daryl.” I gave him a tipsy smile and a two-finger salute. “Goodnight.”

“‘Night,” he responded. I shut the door, taking my glasses off and setting them on my dresser before allowing myself to fall back onto the bed. I crawled up toward my pillow and was asleep before my head even touched it.

Finding Myself, Finding You: Chapter Eight

Masterlist

AO3 link

Story is 18+ for mature content/themes, minors do not interact please

TW/CWs for this story--implied/referenced past rape, canonical violence, non-canonical violence, blood, gore, referenced past suicide, swearing, surgery, excessive drinking, nightmares, panic attacks, mention of scars, vomiting, amputation, medical procedures, non-con medical procedures, referenced past medical torture, referenced past drugging, attempted sexual assault, panic attacks, mental health struggles, referenced sibling death, referenced parent death

Each chapter will have its own TW/CWs listed

This story, Lydia Vector, her family & bestie (c) me, TheVeganDarkElf

TWD & its characters (c) AMC & Robert Kirkman, the writer of the comic series

TW/CWs for this chapter--swearing, nightmares, references to being held at gunpoint, allusion to being tied up

Word count: 2.7k

The wine didn’t keep the nightmares at bay. In fact, I’m sure it made them worse. It was the same as last night, but there was a little more clarity this time. I could feel my hands above my head and a crushing weight on my body. The surface I was laying on was hard and cold, but I couldn’t tell what it was. Then it was the same—the fuzzy vision and the taste of metal and gunpowder being shoved into my mouth before I screamed.

I woke up on the floor hoping I hadn’t screamed out loud this time and woken Daryl again. I just laid there on the floor, waiting to see if I would hear my door open. After a moment, it did. The humiliation I had felt from the same situation last night came creeping back as I sat up and looked at him over the bed.

“I’m so sorry,” I said, pulling myself back to my feet and steadying myself on the bed. The hangover headache was already starting.

“Ya ok?” I was taken aback by his question.

“Umm, yeah, I think so. My head’s pounding, but I’m alright.” I could make out his features in the moonlight coming through my window—that messy mop of chocolate brown hair, his toned arms, his stoic but kind face, and those beautiful blue eyes. He was like a painting with how beautiful he was. I wanted nothing more at that moment than to get wrapped up in his arms and tell him just that. To get lost in those pools of blue and never find my way out.

“Ya hit your head?” His gorgeous half-asleep, half-awake voice was so good at pulling me back to reality. I was surprised he was asking so many questions.

“No, I think it’s just the hangover setting in. I’m so sorry, again. And I’m sorry in advance because this is probably going to keep happening. That’s how it was before I got here. You don’t have to keep checking on me, really.”

“A scream ’n a crash usually don’t mean nothin’ good in this world,” Daryl said.

“You really don’t have to keep coming in. I feel bad enough for waking you, let alone making you feel like you need to check on me,” I replied. I climbed back into bed, feeling the slight dampness of the sheets from the night sweats that had plagued me in my sleep.

“No promises.” I rolled my eyes slightly and rolled over, my back facing him and the door. I heard the door close, but not all the way, stopping just before it was latched.

“Daryl, can you close the door?” I shouted over my shoulder. I didn’t hear anything, nor did he come back. Not having the energy to get up, I huffed a “whatever” under my breath before closing my eyes and trying to fall back asleep. A couple of minutes later, as I was starting to drift off, I heard the door open again, the sound of something being set on my dresser, and the door closing, this time all the way. I rolled over enough to look back over my shoulder to see what it was.

There was a small glass of water on the dresser, accompanied by what looked like a bottle of Tylenol.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

When I woke a few hours later, the sun had just risen, and I could hear birds outside my window, sitting on the ledge and chirping little songs to each other. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and yawned. I propped my head up, resting it on my hand to look out the window. There were two small chickadees perched outside my window with their backs to me. They were chirping back and forth at each other, and I wondered what their relationship was like—if they were family, if they were members of the same flock. Maybe siblings, maybe lovers.

I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and pulled myself up. Today, I was going to start seeing patients, and though I could still feel the hangover headache, I was going to have to push through. I walked over and grabbed some clothes out of a dresser drawer—a pair of black shorts, a black plaid button-up crop top, and the leg holsters for my gun and my knife--and got dressed. Even when my weapons weren’t in their respective holsters, having them on made me feel cool, like an apocalyptic video game character.

I leaned forward and tossed my hair over my head, brushing through it gently with my fingers before grabbing it and tossing it back, tying it up into a high ponytail. The glass of water and Tylenol were still sitting on the dresser, right where he had left them. I picked up the glass and swirled it gently in my hand, smiling. Such a small and kind gesture from such a rugged and stoic man made me swoon. I popped a couple of Tylenol out of the bottle and threw them back into my mouth, swigging back some water with them.

“I’da loved a kiss on the forehead, but I’ll be damned if this isn’t the cutest shit I’ve ever seen,” I said to myself, grabbing the Tylenol bottle and putting it in my pocket. I tossed back the rest of the water, feeling extra dehydrated from the hangover. I still hadn’t acclimated to being in a place where I could drink water whenever I needed to, which led me to often feel dehydrated.

I went downstairs and placed the meds on the counter and the glass in the sink. I planned to quickly make coffee and grab something to take with me to the infirmary to eat. I had informed the other residents that they could come by and see me today if they wanted a checkup or anything looked over. I got the coffee pot going and rummaged through the cupboard, grabbing a can of peaches and a fork out of a drawer and chucking them in my bag.

Once the coffee was done, I poured myself a mug and put the pot back in the machine to keep it warm in case Daryl wanted any. I took the cup with me to the front door, setting it down to put my boots on, but I had an idea. I pulled my notebook and a pen out of my bag and ripped a page out of the book. I decided to leave a little flirty note to thank him and wish him luck on his hunting trip. I half-expected to see it in the trash later, but I didn’t care.

Mornin’ sunshine

Thanks for the water and meds :)

Good luck on your trip

Sorry your good luck charm can’t come with

Try not to get hurt

Him and a couple of the other guys were going to be gone for about a week, is what Rick had told me. I was worried, yes, but I knew Daryl could handle himself. Plus, who would come check on me every time I fell out of bed in the middle of the night? I set the note on the counter by the coffee pot and went back for my boots, slipping them on and grabbing my mug as I headed out the front door, careful to shut it quietly.

The air was cool, and there was dew on the grass that captured the light of the now-risen sun, causing it to sparkle like glitter. I rubbed my arms to warm them, not expecting it to be so chilly. Lights were starting to come on in houses as people woke up and started their morning routines. I wondered if any of them had nightmares too, painful memories that interrupted their peaceful sleep every single night. I was envious at the thought, having not had a single night of uninterrupted sleep in months.

I flipped the lights on in the infirmary, setting my bag down on a table off to the side. I spent some time organizing things and labeling draws and cabinets with a pad of sticky notes I found. I soaked some scalpels and other small tools in a peracetic acid solution and set out some things I’d most commonly be reaching for, like gauze, padding, medical tape, alcohol wipes, etc.

I took some time to write and have my coffee and peaches before people started coming. Michonne came by first and brought Judith, and she immediately began teasing me about the night before.

“Did your big, strong, handsome man at home help you get into bed?” I scoffed as she held Judith on her lap, facing me so I could examine her.

“No,” I drawled out, “but he did make sure I didn’t fall and break my neck. I was so dizzy, I almost couldn’t see. Don’t let me drink again.” She smirked.

“How do you feel now?” she asked. Judith let out a sweet little giggle, and I couldn’t help but giggle along with her. She was doing great at holding still while I looked in her eyes, ears, etc.

“Better. A very friendly archer left some water and painkillers in my room when I was asleep,” I said, turning around to grab a stethoscope off the back counter. I opened a pack of alcohol pads and sanitized the whole thing before placing it in my ears.

“What?” Michonne practically shouted. I shushed her, and she lifted Judith’s shirt enough that I could listen to her heart and her breathing, both of which sounded perfect. After I had taken the stethoscope out, she continued. “That’s so nice. He really is a good man. Y’know, he was the first to feed Judith after she was born.”

“Huh?” I could feel myself melting into a puddle at the thought of burly, rough Daryl comforting a tiny newborn.

“I wasn’t there at this time, but I’ve heard the stories from Rick and Carl. Lori, Rick’s wife and Carl’s mother, passed away giving birth to Judith. There was no formula at the prison they were staying in at the time, so as soon as Daryl heard they would need formula for her to survive, he immediately took off on a run, talking about how they weren’t going to lose another person,” she explained, looking down at Judith as she talked, “Judith was crying incessantly, and when they came back from the run, Daryl took her from Carl right away and started rocking her, trying to calm her down, then took the bottle to feed her. And it worked. And he nicknamed her Lil’ Ass Kicker.”

I felt my heart swell and the butterflies in my stomach return as I pictured Daryl with little newborn Judith, her all swaddled up in a blanket and him rocking her back and forth, calling her cute names and telling her it was all going to be all right before giving her a bottle. I felt a warming in my chest.

“Michonne, do not sit here and tell me that the man I’m crushing on adores babies because I will lose it,” I gushed, “him dropping everything to go get damn baby formula…that’s so sweet. I am not well.” I tested Judith’s reflexes as the final step. “Everything looks and sounds fine. I saw some diaper rash cream in one of these drawers, let me give it to you in case you don’t have any.” I stood up to grab the tube out of its drawer.

There was a faint knock at the door, and I passed the tube to Michonne as I went past her and opened it. Carol was standing outside, waiting for her turn.

“Mornin’,” she said.

“Mornin’. Gimme like two seconds to finish up & I’ll get you,” I replied. She nodded as I shut the door. I turned to Michonne. “My next victim is here,” I joked, “do you need anything else from me?”

“No. Thank you for checking on Judith,” she thanked, lifting the baby up to rise from her chair.

“It’s what I’m here for,” I assured. I opened the door for her, and she slid out past Carol, saying hello as they did. I let Carol in past me and closed the door again. “You can sit in that chair there.”

“We haven’t gotten to talk much. How are you getting along with everyone?” she asked. I sat across from her, grabbing the tool to look into her eyes and ears.

“So far so good. Everyone’s really nice and welcoming,” I explained, holding the light to her eyes, “I feel like I actually fit in here.” I checked her ears and had her hold her arm out so I could check her pulse. She paused while I did that before continuing.

“Is there anyone you’re favoring in particular?” Carol wondered. I peered up at her over the top of my glasses, blushing, and the look on her face told me she already knew the answer.

“Which one of them told you? Cause they’re gonna have to square up when I’m done here,” I said, letting out a frustrated sigh.

“No one did. I may have overheard Glenn and Maggie talking about it,” she confessed.

“Well, I’ll have to tell them to pipe down then.” I scooted to the side so I could test her reflexes, turning to grab another alcohol wipe for my stethoscope when I was done. There was silence between us while I listened to her heart and checked her breathing.

“Daryl came and talked to me before he left,” Carol said as I draped the stethoscope around my neck.

“That’s cool.” It felt like such a dumb thing to say, but I was trying to play it cool. I didn’t know why she would be bringing that up, but I didn’t want to come across as too enthusiastic, just in case.

“He was talking about you. Wasn’t the first time either.” I felt my limbs get weak and all of the blood in my body rushed to my face. I must’ve looked like a lobster. Not the first time? I swallowed hard, which was audibly loud in the echo of the infirmary, and took a couple more seconds to regulate my breathing.

“As much as I want to know, I don’t want you betraying his trust to tell me. Can I just ask you one question?” I met her gaze and took a deep inhale through my nose. “Can you at least tell me whether or not what he’s saying is good or bad? I just want to know that he doesn’t hate me. But be honest, please.” She was quiet for a bit, choosing her words carefully. The knot in my stomach got tighter with each passing second.

“He doesn’t hate you. Not even close. He doesn’t harbor any kind of dislike towards you, really. Maybe some uncertainty, since you’re still new here, but nothing bad.” The speed at which relief flooded over my body almost caused me to become dizzy and pass out, and the ‘snap’ of the knot in my stomach untying itself almost made me throw up.

“That’s a relief, thank you. That’s all I wanted to know. Everything looks great by the way,” I said. She was looking down at the floor now, quiet, once again choosing her words carefully, before looking back up at me.

“Daryl’s…a bit skittish with…this kind of thing. Nervous, uncertain. I’ll leave it at that. Just be patient with him,” she said, getting up from the chair, “and don’t tell him I said anything to you.” I went over and opened the door for her, standing against it and keeping it open with my back.

“Doctor-patient confidentiality,” I joked, and she laughed. As she headed out the door, I mumbled “seems like I’m the only one around here who knows how to keep their mouth shut” to myself.

I had found some empty folders and papers that could be used as handwritten medical charts, so I sat down and started making ones for Judith and Carol. My thoughts were racing the whole time, wondering what Daryl could’ve been sharing with Carol about me. I took comfort in knowing that they didn’t seem to be bad, but not knowing exactly what it was only seemed to make my anxiety worse. Like I told Carol, I didn’t want her betraying Daryl’s trust by telling me everything he said. Which was true, but a small part of me wished she had shared even the tiniest detail.

Finding Myself, Finding You: Chapter Nine

Masterlist

AO3 link

Story is 18+ for mature content/themes, minors do not interact please

TW/CWs for this story--implied/referenced past rape, canonical violence, non-canonical violence, blood, gore, referenced past suicide, swearing, surgery, excessive drinking, nightmares, panic attacks, mention of scars, vomiting, amputation, medical procedures, non-con medical procedures, referenced past medical torture, referenced past drugging, attempted sexual assault, panic attacks, mental health struggles, referenced sibling death, referenced parent death

Each chapter will have its own TW/CWs listed

This story, Lydia Vector, her family & bestie (c) me, TheVeganDarkElf

TWD & its characters (c) AMC & Robert Kirkman, the writer of the comic series

Sleeping Beauty (c) Disney, Wednesday Addams (c) Charles Addams

TW/CWs for this chapter--swearing, reference to nightmares

Word count: 2.8k

Several days had passed since Daryl left. I’m not gonna lie, I missed waking up after falling out of bed and hearing my door open, peering up to see him standing there, making sure I was alright. Before he left, I was insisting to him that he didn’t need to keep doing that, but I hoped he would ignore me and continue when he returned.

When I wasn’t treating someone, I was helping around Alexandria in other ways. I helped with laundry, cooking, playing with Judith and some of the other kids (they had lots of questions about me being a doctor), tending to the garden, and figuring out how to make Aaron a prosthetic foot. I found a pair of scissors and nail clippers in the infirmary, so I finally got to clip my nails and cut a few inches of dead ends off my hair. I also invited Maggie, Glenn, and Rosita over for dinner one night and cooked for them. Every day, I felt more and more a part of the community and like I belonged there. At times, it would become overwhelming, and I would step away from everything to cry. After being on my own for so long, finding somewhere with good people that welcomed me so warmly was heartwarming, but it also made me ache for my parents, my brothers, and my best friend.

Having the house to myself for a week gave me plenty of time to think about Daryl. Think about our first run, think about every interaction we’ve had, think about what Michonne, Maggie, and Rosita had said, and think about what Carol said. That that wasn’t the first time he had talked to her about me. That he “didn’t hate me. Not even close.” I thought about what I was going to say to him when he got back. Thought about what he did with the note I left as I didn’t have it in me to check the trash can and possibly see it there.

It was starting to get dark out, and I had finished my duties for the day, so I went back home to make dinner. I had found a slow cooker in one of the cabinets in the kitchen, buried away, so I elected to make something I often made in college as I could just start up the slow cooker and leave it. I grabbed various ingredients out from the fridge and cabinets, washing produce off and dumping everything in the pot with water. I turned the timer on and headed upstairs to take a shower. It was a hair-washing day, so it was good that the food was going to take a few hours as I would have plenty of time.

I stopped in my room and grabbed a pair of pajamas. I had originally just been sleeping in my clothes, but the nights were getting chillier, so I needed something warmer. Rosita helped me find a red plaid flannel pajama set that fit perfectly. I had been bringing my clothes with me into the bathroom when I showered to avoid having to scurry around in a towel in case Daryl came back. I got the water running and undressed, stepping into the warm cascade of water.

Earlier, when I had been hanging out with and entertaining some of the children, they asked me what my favorite movies were when movies existed. I told them about my favorite Disney movie from when I was growing up—Sleeping Beauty. I told them all about the tale of Princess Aurora, the fairy godmothers, Prince Philip, and Maleficent. How Prince Philip slayed the dragon to save the princess. How they fell in love and got married. The music was one of my favorite parts, and as I washed and rinsed my hair, I found myself first humming, then singing the song “Once Upon A Dream” from the movie.

I kept singing as I finished my shower. I didn’t think I was perfect by any means, but at least I could hit the higher notes comfortably. The acoustics in the bathroom were stellar. I dried myself off and got into my comfy pajamas, grabbing my glasses off of the sink and putting them back on. I left the bathroom and gave my hair a quick run-through with the towel as I walked back to my room, continuing my serenade as I went.

I grabbed a couple of hair ties off my dresser and shook my hair out again, brushing through it with my fingers and parting it down the middle. I tightly braided each side so that it would turn out wavy again in the morning. I smiled, thinking about all of the times Preston would call me Wednesday when I did this with my hair. Apparently, long black braided hair immediately equals Wednesday Addams.

I grabbed my towel to take it back to the bathroom, and as I stepped out into the hallway, I heard a familiar, gravely voice from downstairs.

“Smells good.”

It felt like I jumped a foot off the ground with how startled I was. The adrenaline was pumping hard, and I turned to steady myself on the railing by the stairs. I looked up and saw Daryl standing in the kitchen, leaned back against the counter, a whiskey in his hand. He was dirty from head to toe, and his hair was disheveled as hell. Despite all the dirt and grime, he was still as handsome as could be. And even though I was startled to high hell, it was wonderful to hear his voice again.

“Christ dude, you have got to stop doing that. You’re gonna give me a heart attack one of these days,” I said, “but hi, you’re back. When did you get back?” I came down the stairs into the kitchen to check on the food. He shifted from leaning on the counter to the island as I entered, stopping to grab a ladle to stir the contents of the slow cooker.

“Long ‘nough ta hear ya in the shower,” he replied, taking a sip of his drink, his other arm folded across his chest. I immediately started blushing, and I felt nauseous at the thought of him judging my vocals. I wanted to die in that moment.

“Fuck. Sorry about that,” I said, gazing down at the floor, hoping he wouldn’t notice how red I was.

“Nothing to be sorry ‘bout,” he assured, “what’re ya makin’?” I lifted my head and met his eyes for just a second before I took the lid off the slower cooker and stirred it. This might’ve been the most I’d ever heard the man talk.

“Ok, you can’t laugh,” I said, chuckling a little and putting the lid back on, turning to him, “it’s something my best friend and I came up with in med school. It’s, umm…it’s called a dump ’n pray. You basically just take a bunch of stuff that would probably go well together, dump it all into a slower cooker, and pray that it turns out good. Usually it does. It’s got like a 98% success rate in my experience.”

“Smells real good,” Daryl said, and I gave him a small smile in response, “I uh, got ya somethin’ while we was out.” He leaned over and grabbed a bag off of the floor, and my heart rate picked up again. He opened the bag and pulled out something wrapped in a dirty beige scarf, “thought of ya when I saw it.”

I tried to think about something else to keep myself from turning red. Not just at the fact that Daryl got me something on his trip, but that he thought of me when he was out there. I wondered how often he did that, how often he thought of me exactly. Did he think of me as often as I thought of him?

I unwrapped the scarf carefully in case whatever was inside was fragile. I saw a navy blue fabric with a flower on it peeking out at me, so I grabbed it and let the scarf fall to my feet. The item in my hands was a long navy blue dress with large white flowers and a slit up one leg. It looked like it would fit me perfectly. Despite how dirty Daryl looked, the dress appeared clean, probably thanks to the scarf it was wrapped in. I immediately lit up, smiling big, running my hands on the fabric over and over again. The kind gesture, the fact that he wrapped it in a scarf to keep it clean…my heart swelled, and I felt that warm sensation in my chest again.

“Daryl, I…I don’t know what to say. This is beautiful. I love it. Thank you.” He simply nodded, and I had to ask the question that was scratching at the insides of my brain. “Did you remember?”

“‘Member what?”

“That my favorite color is blue.”

“Got lucky I guess,” he scoffed. He grabbed his things off the ground, including the scarf at my feet, set his drink on the counter, and slipped past me upstairs. I wouldn’t blame him for just wanting to be alone and going to bed to pass out. He was probably exhausted. However, I heard the shower turn on instead.

Once I heard the bathroom door close, I went upstairs to my room and folded the dress neatly, placing it in one of the drawers on the dresser. I grabbed my notebook and a pen and went back downstairs to the couch to do some writing while I waited for the food to finish.

I sat down on the couch and crossed my legs. I ran my hands over the cover of my notebook, my fingers gracing each sticker that they passed. There was a U.S. Navy one, a variety of flowers, a Johns Hopkins one, and some at gotten at a Ke$ha concert as she was my favorite artist. This notebook was my most recent, and it was one of my most prized possessions. I felt like it painted a picture of what my life had looked like over the course of the end of the world so far.

I got lost in what I was writing, eventually being pulled out only by the sound of the slow cooker beeping at me, telling me it was finished. I set my notebook down to get up, but as the beeping finished, Daryl came down the stairs, motioning for me to stay put. He looked clean as a whistle, small residuals of water still dripping from his hair. He had changed into a long-sleeved black shirt that hugged his arms and chest perfectly and a pair of black pants. I bit the interior of my bottom lip to focus on the pain in an attempt to keep myself from blushing or from my eyes lingering for too long.

“Stay sat. Ya made it, least I could do is get ya some,” he said. His gentlemanly attitude surprised me. Just over a week ago, he would hardly look in my direction and was frustrated at the thought of having to share a house with me. But I wasn’t going to say no.

“Oh, umm, okay.” I sat back down on the couch, crossing my legs again. I watched him move through the kitchen, grabbing bowls out of cabinets and spoons out of drawers. I did take just a moment to check out his butt as he moved around. And damn, did it look good in those pants. I quickly averted my eyes as he turned around and came over to me, holding a bowl out. “Thank you.”

He handed me a spoon and took a seat in the chair adjacent to the couch, propping his right foot up on his left knee and letting his body melt back into the chair. I had hoped that maybe he would come and sit down next to me, but I didn’t blame him for wanting his own space to stretch out. And he seemed to have a rather large personal bubble.

I stirred my concoction with the spoon. This one resembled a chili of sorts, not authentic considering the variety of vegetables. But Daryl was right—it did smell good. I scooped some up with my spoon and blew on it before taking a bite. I was impressed with how tasty it came out.

“Told you. 98% success rate,” I said. I set my bowl down on the coffee table for a moment while I adjusted my body, turning so I could stretch my legs out on the couch and grabbing it again. “How was the hunting trip?” He seemed to be more receptive to conversation tonight, so I was going to take advantage of that.

“Went good. Caught a big sum’ bitch. Probly still guttin’ 'em up outside,” Daryl explained, “sorry. We’re eatin’. Might make ya squeamish.” I laughed mid-bite and almost spit my food out.

“I’m a surgeon, Daryl. Nothing makes me squeamish. But I appreciate the consideration.”

“How’d ya sleep while I was away?” he asked. I thought it was nice that he was asking, wanting to know that I was still ok even when he wasn’t coming to check on me. Nice, but it also confused me. He didn’t seem to be the type to…I don’t know, ask questions like that? He was so cold and calloused towards everyone, me included. But right now, Daryl was warm, and dare I say, sweet.

“Alright I guess. The nightmares are getting more…vivid.” I immediately felt ashamed and stopped myself before I said too much “Sorry. I don’t know why I’m telling you this.” I stared into my bowl, stirring my food again, regretting what I had said.

“Keep goin’ if ya wanna,” he encouraged. I blinked a few times in surprise and looked up at him. He was looking at me, those beautiful blue eyes of his piercing through the few strands of hair that fell on his face. His bowl was in his lap, and it looked like he hadn’t touched it yet. I felt bad that he was waiting for me to finish talking because he was probably ravenous after his trip. But apparently, listening to lil’ ol’ me talk was more important than satiating his hunger.

“Umm…well they started off as just a blur of colors and physical sensations. And each night, something else becomes a little more clear. Now there’s sounds, but the visuals are still pretty fuzzy. I, umm…” my voice trailed off, and I felt small, a little scared even as I thought about how my nightmares were becoming more and more vivid. I knew what the nightmare was. I knew what it was going to look like when everything was clear, and that terrified me. I blinked a few times and shook my head a little to bring myself back to reality, and I realized I had started absentmindedly doing my little habit of scratching at my thumb with my index finger. “Sorry. Could…could we maybe talk about something else?” Rather than replying with a yes or no, he changed the topic.

“Ya likin’ it here so far?” Trying to shake the thought of my nightmares from my mind, I felt tears starting to well up in my eyes. I took off my glasses and rubbed my eyes, faking a yawn to make it look like I was just sleepy. I blinked back the last little bit of tears and wiped the sides of my hands on my legs.

“Yeah, a lot,” I said, putting my glasses back on, “everyone’s so nice. I had Maggie, Rosita, and Glenn over for dinner the other night. They seem like really good people. I like them a lot. It feels good to be around other people and wake up in the same place every day.” I looked up at him, his bowl still in his lap. “You, uh, you can eat. You don’t have to just listen to me yap on.”

“They’re good people. Some of the best,” Daryl said, ignoring my statement about him eating, “ya really on ya own ‘fore ya got here?” His gravely voice and cute little Southern way of speaking was a match made in heaven for my ears.

“I was. Gimme just a minute and I’ll tell you all about it.” I set my bowl down on the coffee table and got up to use the bathroom and grab my blanket. As I got to the top of the stairs, I heard Daryl finally start eating. And judging by the sounds, he certainly was ravenous. I grabbed my blanket off my bed after I went to the bathroom and came back down. I was gone for no more than five minutes, and he had set his bowl on the coffee table as well, empty this time. I sat back on the couch, wrapped up in my blanket, chuckling lightly in amusement. I met his gaze again to continue my story.

“Food was good,” he said, “ya should make it again.”

“If you insist.”

Finding Myself, Finding You: Chapter Nine

Masterlist

AO3 link

Story is 18+ for mature content/themes, minors do not interact please

TW/CWs for this story--implied/referenced past rape, canonical violence, non-canonical violence, blood, gore, referenced past suicide, swearing, surgery, excessive drinking, nightmares, panic attacks, mention of scars, vomiting, amputation, medical procedures, non-con medical procedures, referenced past medical torture, referenced past drugging, attempted sexual assault, panic attacks, mental health struggles, referenced sibling death, referenced parent death

Each chapter will have its own TW/CWs listed

This story, Lydia Vector, her family & bestie (c) me, TheVeganDarkElf

TWD & its characters (c) AMC & Robert Kirkman, the writer of the comic series

Sleeping Beauty (c) Disney, Wednesday Addams (c) Charles Addams

TW/CWs for this chapter--swearing, reference to nightmares

Word count: 2.8k

Several days had passed since Daryl left. I’m not gonna lie, I missed waking up after falling out of bed and hearing my door open, peering up to see him standing there, making sure I was alright. Before he left, I was insisting to him that he didn’t need to keep doing that, but I hoped he would ignore me and continue when he returned.

When I wasn’t treating someone, I was helping around Alexandria in other ways. I helped with laundry, cooking, playing with Judith and some of the other kids (they had lots of questions about me being a doctor), tending to the garden, and figuring out how to make Aaron a prosthetic foot. I found a pair of scissors and nail clippers in the infirmary, so I finally got to clip my nails and cut a few inches of dead ends off my hair. I also invited Maggie, Glenn, and Rosita over for dinner one night and cooked for them. Every day, I felt more and more a part of the community and like I belonged there. At times, it would become overwhelming, and I would step away from everything to cry. After being on my own for so long, finding somewhere with good people that welcomed me so warmly was heartwarming, but it also made me ache for my parents, my brothers, and my best friend.

Having the house to myself for a week gave me plenty of time to think about Daryl. Think about our first run, think about every interaction we’ve had, think about what Michonne, Maggie, and Rosita had said, and think about what Carol said. That that wasn’t the first time he had talked to her about me. That he “didn’t hate me. Not even close.” I thought about what I was going to say to him when he got back. Thought about what he did with the note I left as I didn’t have it in me to check the trash can and possibly see it there.

It was starting to get dark out, and I had finished my duties for the day, so I went back home to make dinner. I had found a slow cooker in one of the cabinets in the kitchen, buried away, so I elected to make something I often made in college as I could just start up the slow cooker and leave it. I grabbed various ingredients out from the fridge and cabinets, washing produce off and dumping everything in the pot with water. I turned the timer on and headed upstairs to take a shower. It was a hair-washing day, so it was good that the food was going to take a few hours as I would have plenty of time.

I stopped in my room and grabbed a pair of pajamas. I had originally just been sleeping in my clothes, but the nights were getting chillier, so I needed something warmer. Rosita helped me find a red plaid flannel pajama set that fit perfectly. I had been bringing my clothes with me into the bathroom when I showered to avoid having to scurry around in a towel in case Daryl came back. I got the water running and undressed, stepping into the warm cascade of water.

Earlier, when I had been hanging out with and entertaining some of the children, they asked me what my favorite movies were when movies existed. I told them about my favorite Disney movie from when I was growing up—Sleeping Beauty. I told them all about the tale of Princess Aurora, the fairy godmothers, Prince Philip, and Maleficent. How Prince Philip slayed the dragon to save the princess. How they fell in love and got married. The music was one of my favorite parts, and as I washed and rinsed my hair, I found myself first humming, then singing the song “Once Upon A Dream” from the movie.

I kept singing as I finished my shower. I didn’t think I was perfect by any means, but at least I could hit the higher notes comfortably. The acoustics in the bathroom were stellar. I dried myself off and got into my comfy pajamas, grabbing my glasses off of the sink and putting them back on. I left the bathroom and gave my hair a quick run-through with the towel as I walked back to my room, continuing my serenade as I went.

I grabbed a couple of hair ties off my dresser and shook my hair out again, brushing through it with my fingers and parting it down the middle. I tightly braided each side so that it would turn out wavy again in the morning. I smiled, thinking about all of the times Preston would call me Wednesday when I did this with my hair. Apparently, long black braided hair immediately equals Wednesday Addams.

I grabbed my towel to take it back to the bathroom, and as I stepped out into the hallway, I heard a familiar, gravely voice from downstairs.

“Smells good.”

It felt like I jumped a foot off the ground with how startled I was. The adrenaline was pumping hard, and I turned to steady myself on the railing by the stairs. I looked up and saw Daryl standing in the kitchen, leaned back against the counter, a whiskey in his hand. He was dirty from head to toe, and his hair was disheveled as hell. Despite all the dirt and grime, he was still as handsome as could be. And even though I was startled to high hell, it was wonderful to hear his voice again.

“Christ dude, you have got to stop doing that. You’re gonna give me a heart attack one of these days,” I said, “but hi, you’re back. When did you get back?” I came down the stairs into the kitchen to check on the food. He shifted from leaning on the counter to the island as I entered, stopping to grab a ladle to stir the contents of the slow cooker.

“Long ‘nough ta hear ya in the shower,” he replied, taking a sip of his drink, his other arm folded across his chest. I immediately started blushing, and I felt nauseous at the thought of him judging my vocals. I wanted to die in that moment.

“Fuck. Sorry about that,” I said, gazing down at the floor, hoping he wouldn’t notice how red I was.

“Nothing to be sorry ‘bout,” he assured, “what’re ya makin’?” I lifted my head and met his eyes for just a second before I took the lid off the slower cooker and stirred it. This might’ve been the most I’d ever heard the man talk.

“Ok, you can’t laugh,” I said, chuckling a little and putting the lid back on, turning to him, “it’s something my best friend and I came up with in med school. It’s, umm…it’s called a dump ’n pray. You basically just take a bunch of stuff that would probably go well together, dump it all into a slower cooker, and pray that it turns out good. Usually it does. It’s got like a 98% success rate in my experience.”

“Smells real good,” Daryl said, and I gave him a small smile in response, “I uh, got ya somethin’ while we was out.” He leaned over and grabbed a bag off of the floor, and my heart rate picked up again. He opened the bag and pulled out something wrapped in a dirty beige scarf, “thought of ya when I saw it.”

I tried to think about something else to keep myself from turning red. Not just at the fact that Daryl got me something on his trip, but that he thought of me when he was out there. I wondered how often he did that, how often he thought of me exactly. Did he think of me as often as I thought of him?

I unwrapped the scarf carefully in case whatever was inside was fragile. I saw a navy blue fabric with a flower on it peeking out at me, so I grabbed it and let the scarf fall to my feet. The item in my hands was a long navy blue dress with large white flowers and a slit up one leg. It looked like it would fit me perfectly. Despite how dirty Daryl looked, the dress appeared clean, probably thanks to the scarf it was wrapped in. I immediately lit up, smiling big, running my hands on the fabric over and over again. The kind gesture, the fact that he wrapped it in a scarf to keep it clean…my heart swelled, and I felt that warm sensation in my chest again.

“Daryl, I…I don’t know what to say. This is beautiful. I love it. Thank you.” He simply nodded, and I had to ask the question that was scratching at the insides of my brain. “Did you remember?”

“‘Member what?”

“That my favorite color is blue.”

“Got lucky I guess,” he scoffed. He grabbed his things off the ground, including the scarf at my feet, set his drink on the counter, and slipped past me upstairs. I wouldn’t blame him for just wanting to be alone and going to bed to pass out. He was probably exhausted. However, I heard the shower turn on instead.

Once I heard the bathroom door close, I went upstairs to my room and folded the dress neatly, placing it in one of the drawers on the dresser. I grabbed my notebook and a pen and went back downstairs to the couch to do some writing while I waited for the food to finish.

I sat down on the couch and crossed my legs. I ran my hands over the cover of my notebook, my fingers gracing each sticker that they passed. There was a U.S. Navy one, a variety of flowers, a Johns Hopkins one, and some at gotten at a Ke$ha concert as she was my favorite artist. This notebook was my most recent, and it was one of my most prized possessions. I felt like it painted a picture of what my life had looked like over the course of the end of the world so far.

I got lost in what I was writing, eventually being pulled out only by the sound of the slow cooker beeping at me, telling me it was finished. I set my notebook down to get up, but as the beeping finished, Daryl came down the stairs, motioning for me to stay put. He looked clean as a whistle, small residuals of water still dripping from his hair. He had changed into a long-sleeved black shirt that hugged his arms and chest perfectly and a pair of black pants. I bit the interior of my bottom lip to focus on the pain in an attempt to keep myself from blushing or from my eyes lingering for too long.

“Stay sat. Ya made it, least I could do is get ya some,” he said. His gentlemanly attitude surprised me. Just over a week ago, he would hardly look in my direction and was frustrated at the thought of having to share a house with me. But I wasn’t going to say no.

“Oh, umm, okay.” I sat back down on the couch, crossing my legs again. I watched him move through the kitchen, grabbing bowls out of cabinets and spoons out of drawers. I did take just a moment to check out his butt as he moved around. And damn, did it look good in those pants. I quickly averted my eyes as he turned around and came over to me, holding a bowl out. “Thank you.”

He handed me a spoon and took a seat in the chair adjacent to the couch, propping his right foot up on his left knee and letting his body melt back into the chair. I had hoped that maybe he would come and sit down next to me, but I didn’t blame him for wanting his own space to stretch out. And he seemed to have a rather large personal bubble.

I stirred my concoction with the spoon. This one resembled a chili of sorts, not authentic considering the variety of vegetables. But Daryl was right—it did smell good. I scooped some up with my spoon and blew on it before taking a bite. I was impressed with how tasty it came out.

“Told you. 98% success rate,” I said. I set my bowl down on the coffee table for a moment while I adjusted my body, turning so I could stretch my legs out on the couch and grabbing it again. “How was the hunting trip?” He seemed to be more receptive to conversation tonight, so I was going to take advantage of that.

“Went good. Caught a big sum’ bitch. Probly still guttin’ 'em up outside,” Daryl explained, “sorry. We’re eatin’. Might make ya squeamish.” I laughed mid-bite and almost spit my food out.

“I’m a surgeon, Daryl. Nothing makes me squeamish. But I appreciate the consideration.”

“How’d ya sleep while I was away?” he asked. I thought it was nice that he was asking, wanting to know that I was still ok even when he wasn’t coming to check on me. Nice, but it also confused me. He didn’t seem to be the type to…I don’t know, ask questions like that? He was so cold and calloused towards everyone, me included. But right now, Daryl was warm, and dare I say, sweet.

“Alright I guess. The nightmares are getting more…vivid.” I immediately felt ashamed and stopped myself before I said too much “Sorry. I don’t know why I’m telling you this.” I stared into my bowl, stirring my food again, regretting what I had said.

“Keep goin’ if ya wanna,” he encouraged. I blinked a few times in surprise and looked up at him. He was looking at me, those beautiful blue eyes of his piercing through the few strands of hair that fell on his face. His bowl was in his lap, and it looked like he hadn’t touched it yet. I felt bad that he was waiting for me to finish talking because he was probably ravenous after his trip. But apparently, listening to lil’ ol’ me talk was more important than satiating his hunger.

“Umm…well they started off as just a blur of colors and physical sensations. And each night, something else becomes a little more clear. Now there’s sounds, but the visuals are still pretty fuzzy. I, umm…” my voice trailed off, and I felt small, a little scared even as I thought about how my nightmares were becoming more and more vivid. I knew what the nightmare was. I knew what it was going to look like when everything was clear, and that terrified me. I blinked a few times and shook my head a little to bring myself back to reality, and I realized I had started absentmindedly doing my little habit of scratching at my thumb with my index finger. “Sorry. Could…could we maybe talk about something else?” Rather than replying with a yes or no, he changed the topic.

“Ya likin’ it here so far?” Trying to shake the thought of my nightmares from my mind, I felt tears starting to well up in my eyes. I took off my glasses and rubbed my eyes, faking a yawn to make it look like I was just sleepy. I blinked back the last little bit of tears and wiped the sides of my hands on my legs.

“Yeah, a lot,” I said, putting my glasses back on, “everyone’s so nice. I had Maggie, Rosita, and Glenn over for dinner the other night. They seem like really good people. I like them a lot. It feels good to be around other people and wake up in the same place every day.” I looked up at him, his bowl still in his lap. “You, uh, you can eat. You don’t have to just listen to me yap on.”

“They’re good people. Some of the best,” Daryl said, ignoring my statement about him eating, “ya really on ya own ‘fore ya got here?” His gravely voice and cute little Southern way of speaking was a match made in heaven for my ears.

“I was. Gimme just a minute and I’ll tell you all about it.” I set my bowl down on the coffee table and got up to use the bathroom and grab my blanket. As I got to the top of the stairs, I heard Daryl finally start eating. And judging by the sounds, he certainly was ravenous. I grabbed my blanket off my bed after I went to the bathroom and came back down. I was gone for no more than five minutes, and he had set his bowl on the coffee table as well, empty this time. I sat back on the couch, wrapped up in my blanket, chuckling lightly in amusement. I met his gaze again to continue my story.

“Food was good,” he said, “ya should make it again.”

“If you insist.”

Finding Myself, Finding You: Chapter Ten

Masterlist

AO3 link

Story is 18+ for mature content/themes, minors do not interact please

TW/CWs for this story--implied/referenced past rape, canonical violence, non-canonical violence, blood, gore, referenced past suicide, swearing, surgery, excessive drinking, nightmares, panic attacks, mention of scars, vomiting, amputation, medical procedures, non-con medical procedures, referenced past medical torture, referenced past drugging, attempted sexual assault, panic attacks, mental health struggles, referenced sibling death, referenced parent death

Each chapter will have its own TW/CWs listed

This story, Lydia Vector, her family & bestie (c) me, TheVeganDarkElf

TWD & its characters (c) AMC & Robert Kirkman, the writer of the comic series

Sleeping Beauty (c) Disney, Wednesday Addams (c) Charles Addams

TW/CWs for this chapter--swearing, allusion to past trauma, medical stuff (kinda?), smoking (Daryl)

Word count: 3.1k

We spent the next couple of hours in the living room talking. It was mostly Daryl asking me about myself and my life prior to coming to Alexandria, but I enjoyed it nonetheless, and I was flattered that he seemed to take such an interest. I told him about all the things I’d seen in the ER and goofy stories from medical school. I did get a few stories out of him after some prodding and saying that I was getting tired of hearing myself talk.

"What made ya wanna be a doctor?" he asked. I covered my mouth and yawned. As much as I loved talking with him, I was starting to get very tired.

“It’s kind of a silly story, to be honest,” I explained, looking down at my thumbs and twirling them back and forth over each other, “when I was a little girl, I wanted to be a princess when I grew up, because what little girl doesn’t want that? I thought they were so cool, so pretty. And they helped their people. That's what I wanted to do. I knew from a young age that I wanted to help people. When my oldest brother Preston was eight, he was in a really bad accident. Got hit by a car on his bike.”

I bit the inside of my bottom lip again, suppressing the memories of my frightened mother throwing her three small children in the car, not knowing if her oldest was still going to be alive by the time we caught up to him. “When we got to the hospital, my mom talked to one of the surgeons, and three-year-old me thought she was the most beautiful lady I'd ever seen. I remember she was wearing a floral dress under her white coat. I didn't understand at the time what exactly she was doing. All I knew was she was the lady who was making my brother feel better. I asked if she was a princess, and being that I was only three, she entertained me and told me yes."

A felt a small smile start to tug at the corners of my mouth. “So I told my mom that that's the kind of princess I wanted to be when I grew up. As I got older, of course, I learned what a doctor was, but I still had what I wanted to be set in stone. I wanted to help people the way that she helped my brother." I looked up at Daryl. He had uncrossed his legs and had them apart, leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, hands clasped, looking at me like with that same stoic look on his face. But there was something else there, a subtle glimmer in his eye, like I’d been telling him the most interesting story in the world and he was listening as intently as he could. My small smile turned into a little bit of a bigger one. “I told you it was silly.”

He shook his head. “Nah, not silly. S’cute.” He blinked a few times and shook his head a little, like he didn’t know what had gotten into him when he said that and was coming back to reality. "Ya best get to sleep. Look tired as all hell.” I yawned in response. Just hearing the word “tired” was enough to remind my body of how exhausted I was.

“I guess you’re right,” I said. I swung my legs off the couch and wrapped the blanket around myself again, rising to my feet. “What about you? I’m sure you’re exhausted. And you get to finally sleep on a mattress again.” He got up out of the chair to grab the whiskey he left in the kitchen hours ago.

“Late to sleep, early to rise, that’s how I roll,” he said, grabbing his drink off the counter and swirling it lightly. I followed him over to where he was standing.

“This was nice, Daryl. We should do it again sometime. If you’re down to, I mean,” I told him, beginning to step over towards the stairs before stopping again and turning to him.

I don’t know what came over me. Maybe it was the desire for human touch, or the desire to hold him and be held by him, but whatever it was was powerful. I reached my arms around his torso to give him a hug. I was only there for a second, barely touching him before I pulled back. He hardly had any time to react. “Oh God, I’m sorry. I should’ve asked first. Oh I’m so tired. That’s no excuse. I’m so sorry.” I thought I heard a soft, almost inaudible chuckle come from him.

“’S’alright.”

“I won’t do it again without asking, I promise,” I said, looking up to meet his beautiful blue irises, “and thank you again for the dress. I can’t wait to wear it.” I turned and started making my way up the stairs. “Goodnight Daryl. See you in the morning.”

“See ya when ya fall outta bed,” he called up after me. I rolled my eyes.

“Goodnight Daryl,” I repeated, more stern this time.

I collapsed back on my bed, staring up at the ceiling. My head was spinning. I expected Daryl to hardly say a word to me when he got back, and not only did we have a conversation, but it lasted for hours. Did he pity me, as the new kid? He had to have been enjoying himself, right? If he didn’t, he probably wouldn’t have stayed for as long as he did. He didn’t seem like the type to continue doing something he wasn’t interested in to be “respectful” or whatever. Maggie had said that Daryl doesn’t ask “get to know you” questions to anyone. I guess that made me special.

What kind of special exactly, I wasn’t sure.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I decided to check on Aaron before I got on with the rest of my tasks for the day. I hadn’t gone to see him in about a week, and I needed to make sure he didn’t still need painkillers or antibiotics and had run out. Since Eric hadn’t come looking for me for more, I figured he was probably set on both. I felt bad that he was stuck up in that room all day. I could only hope that he had plenty of things to keep him occupied. And in the next few weeks, I was going to have to figure out how to get him a prosthetic.

“How’s he doing?” I asked as Eric let me in the front door, “I’m sorry I didn’t come by more. I figured since I left everything he’d need, he’d be good for a while. And of course that you’d come get me if you needed anything.”

“He’s been doing well. He’s been needing the pain meds less and less, and we’ve been changing the dressing once a day like you said. Sometimes twice because I’m paranoid,” Eric said, “and I’ve been helping him move around a bit upstairs like you said, to help get at least some movement in.” I nodded in approval.

“Sorry to come by so early. Is he asleep? I can come back later. It’s just been a while, so I wanted to make checking on him my first priority.” Eric shook his head as he walked me to the stairs.

“He might still be asleep, but it’s ok. He won’t mind. I try to spend as much time up there as I can so he doesn’t get lonely, but I think he’d enjoy having another person to socialize with too,” he explained, “I’ll leave you to it. Let me know if there’s anything you need. And thank you again Vector. For everything you’ve done for Aaron. I hate what happened to him, but I’m glad you were there.”

“You’re sweet, Eric. I appreciate that. I’m glad I was there too,” I replied, giving him the biggest, no-teeth smile I could before going upstairs.

I knocked gently on their bedroom door before letting myself in. Aaron looked like he was still asleep, so I stepped quietly over to the side of the bed and set my bag down.

“Aaron,” I whispered, lowering myself to the ground slowly so as not to startle him, “it’s Vector. I’m here for a check-in.” He stirred a little before opening his eyes and meeting my gaze.

“Mornin’ Doc,” he yawned.

“Hey, sorry to wake you. I hadn’t been by in a while, so I wanted to make sure I came here first thing today. How are you feeling?”

He pushed himself back with his hands until he was sat up against the headboard. “About as good as I can given the circumstances.”

“I’m gonna take a look at it, make sure it’s healing properly.” I slipped a pair of gloves on while he pulled the leg of his pants up to expose his leg.

“I think it looks ok. I’m sure it’s healing just fine. I’ve got the best surgeon east of the Mississippi,” Aaron said, cheerfully despite the sleep lingering in his voice.

“So what I’m hearing is there’s one to the west that’s better?” I teased, getting a laugh out of him. I peeled off the gauze and padding and set them down on the floor beside me.

“How are things with you and Daryl?” he asked, an enthusiastic smile spread across his face. Of course, when I decided that I would be stopping by this morning, I knew Aaron would have questions. I could feel myself starting to blush.

“Ok, I’m only giving you details because you seem to be one of the few people around here who can keep their mouth shut. I went to Michonne and Rick’s the other night and drank with her, Rosita, and Maggie, and when Rick and Glenn came back later, Maggie all but outright told them that I like Daryl. This is a HIPAA compliant conversation, you got it?”

“Understood.”

I told Aaron all about what I told the others, even told him about what Carol said regarding Daryl having talked to her about me, and our hours-long conversation the night before. Being the good friend and confidant that he was, he was happy for me and promised to keep everything I said under lock and key. I allowed myself to get a little giddy when talking about Daryl, like when I would be telling stories and he would look at me like it was the most interesting thing he’d ever heard, even if it was something I deemed as boring. Or how beautiful his eyes were and how I wanted to get lost in them and never find my way out. Glenn was right—it was a little schoolgirl crush.

My other duties for the day included seeing some patients and helping Maggie catch up on a literal metric ton of laundry. Daryl had daytime watch that day, so he was up and out before I was awake. He did, however, leave a mug of coffee out for me on the kitchen counter. It was such a tiny thing, but it was sweet and made my morning nonetheless.

As I loaded some clothes into one of the washing machines, Carol’s words echoed inside my head. Daryl’s…a bit skittish with…this kind of thing. Nervous, uncertain. I’ll leave it at that. Just be patient with him. Was that her subtle way of letting me know that Daryl was interested in me? What was “this kind of thing?” She very well could’ve been talking about friendship, but given how surprised everyone is when I tell them about something nice Daryl did for me and how “he never does things like that,” I figured she had to be talking about romance. But there was still so much he didn’t know about me. Things that I knew he wouldn’t like if he were to find out about them. Things that would change his view of me, I was sure.

Even if he was interested in Vector, he certainly wouldn't be interested in Lydia.

I brushed some hair out of my face as I flipped open my notebook. Maggie and I finished laundry a little while ago, and being that I was done seeing patients as well, I wanted to take some time to sit outside and enjoy the fresh air. I had hardly taken a moment to just sit and take in everything around me since I arrived in Alexandria. I was so excited to have found the place I’d been searching months for, to be around such good people and have some semblance of normalcy again, that I didn’t take time to sit and just be. I think I was afraid to, as sitting and just letting myself feel whatever I needed would certainly bring up some uncomfortable emotions. But I suppose that’s what my notebook was for. It carried the pain that was too much for me to handle.

As I leaned over my notebook, my hair cascaded around me like a set of dark curtains, blocking out my peripheral vision, and my bangs blocked part of my front view. I heard a familiar set of heavy footsteps making their way across the dirt path that lined the row of houses. Before I could lift my head to say hi, those footsteps were walking in front of me across the porch and stopping to my left.

“‘Sup Vec?” Daryl said as he slid down the front of the house and took a seat a few feet from me. Vec? That was the first time he’d called me that. I wasn’t opposed to him having a nickname for me, though. I thought it was cute. I lifted my head and swept my hair out of the way. He was sat back against the house, his legs propped up in front of him, resting his arms on his knees. It took everything in me to not scoot over to him, grab his arm, and rest my head on his shoulder.

“Hi Daryl,” I replied, closing my notebook in my lap and smiling at him, “how was your day?” I was disappointed to see him reach into his pocket and pull out a box of cigarettes and a lighter. I hadn’t seen him smoke before, so I imagine it wasn’t something he did too often. Cigarettes were probably not that easy to come by in the apocalypse. It was a gross habit regardless, and I did my best not to make a disgusted face as he put one in his mouth and lit it. But that didn’t mean I wasn’t going to say anything. “Lighting up in front of the doctor. That’s brave. Careful with that, you’ll start a fire.”

“Day was borin’ as hell. Didn’t see a damn thing up there. Guess that’s good though.” He took a puff of his cigarette and turned his head to blow the smoke in the opposite direction of me. When he turned back, he gestured to my notebook. “What’s that?”

“Oh, umm, it’s not important.”

“Seems important since ya always got it on ya,” he said, taking another puff of his cigarette. I twirled my pen in my fingers, trying to figure out how to explain what this little bound stack of papers meant to me.

“I, uh, started writing back in med school, when Preston and then my mom passed away, as a way to cope. It was something my therapist at the time suggested. I’ve filled probably a dozen notebooks over the years. This is the only one I brought with me when I went on the road.” I took a deep breath. “Sorry, I know that’s heavy.”

“Nah, don’t worry ‘bout it. Sorry ‘bout your family.” I gave him a small smile.

“Thanks. Preston was killed in combat. At least he died doing what he loved. I suppose that’s one of the better ways to go out, right?”

He took another puff of his smoke. “’S’pose so.” There was a few beats of silence before he spoke again. “How was your day?”

I was surprised but flattered at the reciprocation of my earlier question. I brushed my side bangs out of my face and twirled a chunk of hair around my index finger, another anxious habit I had. “It was good. I went and checked on Aaron this morning, tended to some injuries, and helped with laundry. Hadn’t done laundry in so long, I forgot how much of a bitch it was.”

“How’s Aaron?” Daryl asked.

“Given the circumstances, he’s as good as he can be. I’m going to have to start thinking about how to get him a prosthetic for when his leg heals.”

“We can go tomorrow. Rick wanted us to go on a run since it’s been a while. There’s a medical center nearby. They’d have some, right?” I cocked my eyebrow at him.

“Us? Again? I thought he didn’t want me going out much. And they might, depending on the kind of medical center.” I certainly wasn’t opposed to going out on a long run with Daryl. The idea was exciting, rather pleasing to be honest.

“Like ya said, good luck charm or somethin’.” I felt the butterflies in my stomach awakening. Him remembering a little joke I made back during our first run…I was swooning hard.

“Are you sure? He won’t need it for a few weeks still. We’ve got time,” I said. He flicked the ashes off the end of his cigarette and stomped them out with his boot. Somehow, he made something as gross as smoking look so attractive. I was kicking myself. You’re a doctor, Vector, what’s wrong with you?

“Might as well have it when the time comes.”

“I guess that’s true. Better than trying to scramble to find one when he needs it.” I looked down at my feet and wiggled my toes in my boots. While I loved being around and talking with him, he also made me nervous. I tried to focus on wiggling my toes to keep myself from turning red.

“Have ya eaten today?” Daryl asked me, dropping the butt of his cigarette on the ground and stomping it out. I turned my head and gave him an “oh really” face, giggling a little in amusement.

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that? You’ve been up in that watchtower literally all day,” I said, scooting myself backward a little to give myself leverage to stand up, “come on, I’ll make food.”

“Nah, I can, ya always do it,” he insisted, also bringing himself to his feet.

“I really don’t mind, honestly. I like doing it.” I decided to use this as an opportunity to be a little bit flirtatious. “Plus, your compliments of my cooking do feed my ego a little bit. You’ll have to be careful with that, I might start to get cocky.”

Finding Myself, Finding You: Chapter Ten

Masterlist

AO3 link

Story is 18+ for mature content/themes, minors do not interact please

TW/CWs for this story--implied/referenced past rape, canonical violence, non-canonical violence, blood, gore, referenced past suicide, swearing, surgery, excessive drinking, nightmares, panic attacks, mention of scars, vomiting, amputation, medical procedures, non-con medical procedures, referenced past medical torture, referenced past drugging, attempted sexual assault, panic attacks, mental health struggles, referenced sibling death, referenced parent death

Each chapter will have its own TW/CWs listed

This story, Lydia Vector, her family & bestie (c) me, TheVeganDarkElf

TWD & its characters (c) AMC & Robert Kirkman, the writer of the comic series

Sleeping Beauty (c) Disney, Wednesday Addams (c) Charles Addams

TW/CWs for this chapter--swearing, allusion to past trauma, medical stuff (kinda?), smoking (Daryl)

Word count: 3.1k

We spent the next couple of hours in the living room talking. It was mostly Daryl asking me about myself and my life prior to coming to Alexandria, but I enjoyed it nonetheless, and I was flattered that he seemed to take such an interest. I told him about all the things I’d seen in the ER and goofy stories from medical school. I did get a few stories out of him after some prodding and saying that I was getting tired of hearing myself talk.

"What made ya wanna be a doctor?" he asked. I covered my mouth and yawned. As much as I loved talking with him, I was starting to get very tired.

“It’s kind of a silly story, to be honest,” I explained, looking down at my thumbs and twirling them back and forth over each other, “when I was a little girl, I wanted to be a princess when I grew up, because what little girl doesn’t want that? I thought they were so cool, so pretty. And they helped their people. That's what I wanted to do. I knew from a young age that I wanted to help people. When my oldest brother Preston was eight, he was in a really bad accident. Got hit by a car on his bike.”

I bit the inside of my bottom lip again, suppressing the memories of my frightened mother throwing her three small children in the car, not knowing if her oldest was still going to be alive by the time we caught up to him. “When we got to the hospital, my mom talked to one of the surgeons, and three-year-old me thought she was the most beautiful lady I'd ever seen. I remember she was wearing a floral dress under her white coat. I didn't understand at the time what exactly she was doing. All I knew was she was the lady who was making my brother feel better. I asked if she was a princess, and being that I was only three, she entertained me and told me yes."

A felt a small smile start to tug at the corners of my mouth. “So I told my mom that that's the kind of princess I wanted to be when I grew up. As I got older, of course, I learned what a doctor was, but I still had what I wanted to be set in stone. I wanted to help people the way that she helped my brother." I looked up at Daryl. He had uncrossed his legs and had them apart, leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, hands clasped, looking at me like with that same stoic look on his face. But there was something else there, a subtle glimmer in his eye, like I’d been telling him the most interesting story in the world and he was listening as intently as he could. My small smile turned into a little bit of a bigger one. “I told you it was silly.”

He shook his head. “Nah, not silly. S’cute.” He blinked a few times and shook his head a little, like he didn’t know what had gotten into him when he said that and was coming back to reality. "Ya best get to sleep. Look tired as all hell.” I yawned in response. Just hearing the word “tired” was enough to remind my body of how exhausted I was.

“I guess you’re right,” I said. I swung my legs off the couch and wrapped the blanket around myself again, rising to my feet. “What about you? I’m sure you’re exhausted. And you get to finally sleep on a mattress again.” He got up out of the chair to grab the whiskey he left in the kitchen hours ago.

“Late to sleep, early to rise, that’s how I roll,” he said, grabbing his drink off the counter and swirling it lightly. I followed him over to where he was standing.

“This was nice, Daryl. We should do it again sometime. If you’re down to, I mean,” I told him, beginning to step over towards the stairs before stopping again and turning to him.

I don’t know what came over me. Maybe it was the desire for human touch, or the desire to hold him and be held by him, but whatever it was was powerful. I reached my arms around his torso to give him a hug. I was only there for a second, barely touching him before I pulled back. He hardly had any time to react. “Oh God, I’m sorry. I should’ve asked first. Oh I’m so tired. That’s no excuse. I’m so sorry.” I thought I heard a soft, almost inaudible chuckle come from him.

“’S’alright.”

“I won’t do it again without asking, I promise,” I said, looking up to meet his beautiful blue irises, “and thank you again for the dress. I can’t wait to wear it.” I turned and started making my way up the stairs. “Goodnight Daryl. See you in the morning.”

“See ya when ya fall outta bed,” he called up after me. I rolled my eyes.

“Goodnight Daryl,” I repeated, more stern this time.

I collapsed back on my bed, staring up at the ceiling. My head was spinning. I expected Daryl to hardly say a word to me when he got back, and not only did we have a conversation, but it lasted for hours. Did he pity me, as the new kid? He had to have been enjoying himself, right? If he didn’t, he probably wouldn’t have stayed for as long as he did. He didn’t seem like the type to continue doing something he wasn’t interested in to be “respectful” or whatever. Maggie had said that Daryl doesn’t ask “get to know you” questions to anyone. I guess that made me special.

What kind of special exactly, I wasn’t sure.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I decided to check on Aaron before I got on with the rest of my tasks for the day. I hadn’t gone to see him in about a week, and I needed to make sure he didn’t still need painkillers or antibiotics and had run out. Since Eric hadn’t come looking for me for more, I figured he was probably set on both. I felt bad that he was stuck up in that room all day. I could only hope that he had plenty of things to keep him occupied. And in the next few weeks, I was going to have to figure out how to get him a prosthetic.

“How’s he doing?” I asked as Eric let me in the front door, “I’m sorry I didn’t come by more. I figured since I left everything he’d need, he’d be good for a while. And of course that you’d come get me if you needed anything.”

“He’s been doing well. He’s been needing the pain meds less and less, and we’ve been changing the dressing once a day like you said. Sometimes twice because I’m paranoid,” Eric said, “and I’ve been helping him move around a bit upstairs like you said, to help get at least some movement in.” I nodded in approval.

“Sorry to come by so early. Is he asleep? I can come back later. It’s just been a while, so I wanted to make checking on him my first priority.” Eric shook his head as he walked me to the stairs.

“He might still be asleep, but it’s ok. He won’t mind. I try to spend as much time up there as I can so he doesn’t get lonely, but I think he’d enjoy having another person to socialize with too,” he explained, “I’ll leave you to it. Let me know if there’s anything you need. And thank you again Vector. For everything you’ve done for Aaron. I hate what happened to him, but I’m glad you were there.”

“You’re sweet, Eric. I appreciate that. I’m glad I was there too,” I replied, giving him the biggest, no-teeth smile I could before going upstairs.

I knocked gently on their bedroom door before letting myself in. Aaron looked like he was still asleep, so I stepped quietly over to the side of the bed and set my bag down.

“Aaron,” I whispered, lowering myself to the ground slowly so as not to startle him, “it’s Vector. I’m here for a check-in.” He stirred a little before opening his eyes and meeting my gaze.

“Mornin’ Doc,” he yawned.

“Hey, sorry to wake you. I hadn’t been by in a while, so I wanted to make sure I came here first thing today. How are you feeling?”

He pushed himself back with his hands until he was sat up against the headboard. “About as good as I can given the circumstances.”

“I’m gonna take a look at it, make sure it’s healing properly.” I slipped a pair of gloves on while he pulled the leg of his pants up to expose his leg.

“I think it looks ok. I’m sure it’s healing just fine. I’ve got the best surgeon east of the Mississippi,” Aaron said, cheerfully despite the sleep lingering in his voice.

“So what I’m hearing is there’s one to the west that’s better?” I teased, getting a laugh out of him. I peeled off the gauze and padding and set them down on the floor beside me.

“How are things with you and Daryl?” he asked, an enthusiastic smile spread across his face. Of course, when I decided that I would be stopping by this morning, I knew Aaron would have questions. I could feel myself starting to blush.

“Ok, I’m only giving you details because you seem to be one of the few people around here who can keep their mouth shut. I went to Michonne and Rick’s the other night and drank with her, Rosita, and Maggie, and when Rick and Glenn came back later, Maggie all but outright told them that I like Daryl. This is a HIPAA compliant conversation, you got it?”

“Understood.”

I told Aaron all about what I told the others, even told him about what Carol said regarding Daryl having talked to her about me, and our hours-long conversation the night before. Being the good friend and confidant that he was, he was happy for me and promised to keep everything I said under lock and key. I allowed myself to get a little giddy when talking about Daryl, like when I would be telling stories and he would look at me like it was the most interesting thing he’d ever heard, even if it was something I deemed as boring. Or how beautiful his eyes were and how I wanted to get lost in them and never find my way out. Glenn was right—it was a little schoolgirl crush.

My other duties for the day included seeing some patients and helping Maggie catch up on a literal metric ton of laundry. Daryl had daytime watch that day, so he was up and out before I was awake. He did, however, leave a mug of coffee out for me on the kitchen counter. It was such a tiny thing, but it was sweet and made my morning nonetheless.

As I loaded some clothes into one of the washing machines, Carol’s words echoed inside my head. Daryl’s…a bit skittish with…this kind of thing. Nervous, uncertain. I’ll leave it at that. Just be patient with him. Was that her subtle way of letting me know that Daryl was interested in me? What was “this kind of thing?” She very well could’ve been talking about friendship, but given how surprised everyone is when I tell them about something nice Daryl did for me and how “he never does things like that,” I figured she had to be talking about romance. But there was still so much he didn’t know about me. Things that I knew he wouldn’t like if he were to find out about them. Things that would change his view of me, I was sure.

Even if he was interested in Vector, he certainly wouldn't be interested in Lydia.

I brushed some hair out of my face as I flipped open my notebook. Maggie and I finished laundry a little while ago, and being that I was done seeing patients as well, I wanted to take some time to sit outside and enjoy the fresh air. I had hardly taken a moment to just sit and take in everything around me since I arrived in Alexandria. I was so excited to have found the place I’d been searching months for, to be around such good people and have some semblance of normalcy again, that I didn’t take time to sit and just be. I think I was afraid to, as sitting and just letting myself feel whatever I needed would certainly bring up some uncomfortable emotions. But I suppose that’s what my notebook was for. It carried the pain that was too much for me to handle.

As I leaned over my notebook, my hair cascaded around me like a set of dark curtains, blocking out my peripheral vision, and my bangs blocked part of my front view. I heard a familiar set of heavy footsteps making their way across the dirt path that lined the row of houses. Before I could lift my head to say hi, those footsteps were walking in front of me across the porch and stopping to my left.

“‘Sup Vec?” Daryl said as he slid down the front of the house and took a seat a few feet from me. Vec? That was the first time he’d called me that. I wasn’t opposed to him having a nickname for me, though. I thought it was cute. I lifted my head and swept my hair out of the way. He was sat back against the house, his legs propped up in front of him, resting his arms on his knees. It took everything in me to not scoot over to him, grab his arm, and rest my head on his shoulder.

“Hi Daryl,” I replied, closing my notebook in my lap and smiling at him, “how was your day?” I was disappointed to see him reach into his pocket and pull out a box of cigarettes and a lighter. I hadn’t seen him smoke before, so I imagine it wasn’t something he did too often. Cigarettes were probably not that easy to come by in the apocalypse. It was a gross habit regardless, and I did my best not to make a disgusted face as he put one in his mouth and lit it. But that didn’t mean I wasn’t going to say anything. “Lighting up in front of the doctor. That’s brave. Careful with that, you’ll start a fire.”

“Day was borin’ as hell. Didn’t see a damn thing up there. Guess that’s good though.” He took a puff of his cigarette and turned his head to blow the smoke in the opposite direction of me. When he turned back, he gestured to my notebook. “What’s that?”

“Oh, umm, it’s not important.”

“Seems important since ya always got it on ya,” he said, taking another puff of his cigarette. I twirled my pen in my fingers, trying to figure out how to explain what this little bound stack of papers meant to me.

“I, uh, started writing back in med school, when Preston and then my mom passed away, as a way to cope. It was something my therapist at the time suggested. I’ve filled probably a dozen notebooks over the years. This is the only one I brought with me when I went on the road.” I took a deep breath. “Sorry, I know that’s heavy.”

“Nah, don’t worry ‘bout it. Sorry ‘bout your family.” I gave him a small smile.

“Thanks. Preston was killed in combat. At least he died doing what he loved. I suppose that’s one of the better ways to go out, right?”

He took another puff of his smoke. “’S’pose so.” There was a few beats of silence before he spoke again. “How was your day?”

I was surprised but flattered at the reciprocation of my earlier question. I brushed my side bangs out of my face and twirled a chunk of hair around my index finger, another anxious habit I had. “It was good. I went and checked on Aaron this morning, tended to some injuries, and helped with laundry. Hadn’t done laundry in so long, I forgot how much of a bitch it was.”

“How’s Aaron?” Daryl asked.

“Given the circumstances, he’s as good as he can be. I’m going to have to start thinking about how to get him a prosthetic for when his leg heals.”

“We can go tomorrow. Rick wanted us to go on a run since it’s been a while. There’s a medical center nearby. They’d have some, right?” I cocked my eyebrow at him.

“Us? Again? I thought he didn’t want me going out much. And they might, depending on the kind of medical center.” I certainly wasn’t opposed to going out on a long run with Daryl. The idea was exciting, rather pleasing to be honest.

“Like ya said, good luck charm or somethin’.” I felt the butterflies in my stomach awakening. Him remembering a little joke I made back during our first run…I was swooning hard.

“Are you sure? He won’t need it for a few weeks still. We’ve got time,” I said. He flicked the ashes off the end of his cigarette and stomped them out with his boot. Somehow, he made something as gross as smoking look so attractive. I was kicking myself. You’re a doctor, Vector, what’s wrong with you?

“Might as well have it when the time comes.”

“I guess that’s true. Better than trying to scramble to find one when he needs it.” I looked down at my feet and wiggled my toes in my boots. While I loved being around and talking with him, he also made me nervous. I tried to focus on wiggling my toes to keep myself from turning red.

“Have ya eaten today?” Daryl asked me, dropping the butt of his cigarette on the ground and stomping it out. I turned my head and gave him an “oh really” face, giggling a little in amusement.

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that? You’ve been up in that watchtower literally all day,” I said, scooting myself backward a little to give myself leverage to stand up, “come on, I’ll make food.”

“Nah, I can, ya always do it,” he insisted, also bringing himself to his feet.

“I really don’t mind, honestly. I like doing it.” I decided to use this as an opportunity to be a little bit flirtatious. “Plus, your compliments of my cooking do feed my ego a little bit. You’ll have to be careful with that, I might start to get cocky.”

Finding Myself, Finding You: Chapter Eleven

Masterlist

AO3 link

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist <3

Story is 18+ for mature content/themes, minors do not interact please

TW/CWs for this story--implied/referenced past rape, canonical violence, non-canonical violence, blood, gore, referenced past suicide, swearing, surgery, excessive drinking, nightmares, panic attacks, mention of scars, vomiting, amputation, medical procedures, non-con medical procedures, referenced past medical torture, referenced past drugging, attempted sexual assault, panic attacks, mental health struggles, referenced sibling death, referenced parent death

Each chapter will have its own TW/CWs listed

This story, Lydia Vector, her family & bestie (c) me, TheVeganDarkElf

TWD & its characters (c) AMC & Robert Kirkman, the writer of the comic series

Sleeping Beauty (c) Disney, Wednesday Addams (c) Charles Addams

TW/CWs for this chapter--swearing, mention of scars, canonical violence (walker killings), a sex toy is used as a weapon

Word count: 2.7k

It was bright and early the following morning when Daryl came knocking on my bedroom door, insisting that we get moving early to make sure we got back before his afternoon watch. “Ok, gimme five minutes,” I croaked, my throat dry from mouth-breathing in my sleep. I grabbed some clothes out of one of my drawers and tossed them on my bed. There was a fitted jacket, one that would likely be used as workout attire, that I decided to wear as a shirt, another pair of black workout shorts, and my leg holsters for my weapons. I grabbed my backpack and packed my remaining weapons, my notebook, my water bottle, and some medical supplies.

I fluffed my hair a little and tied it up into a high ponytail. Even tied up, my hair still reached down to my mid-back. Having long hair gave me more confidence and made me feel more feminine, but since the world fell, it was more of a nuisance than anything. And it was cumbersome when it was wet. I often debated on just chopping it off, but I liked it far too much to do that.

“Mornin’ sunshine,” I said as I came down the stairs. Daryl was putting his boots on by the front door, his crossbow slung over his shoulder and a tumbler on the floor next to him. I went over and joined him, and he picked the tumbler up off the floor and handed it to me.

“This yours,” he said, holding the tumbler of what I presumed to be coffee out to me. I reached out and grabbed it, our fingers lightly touching as I placed my hand below his on the cup. I let my fingers linger there for just a moment and made sure to brush his as I pulled away. I felt electricity shoot through my body as my fingers graced his.

“You’re sweet. Thank you.” This time, I know I saw a very faint shade of pink appear on his cheeks. I set the cup down long enough to put my boots on and follow him outside.

The air was crisp, cool, and I was thankful I had worn long sleeves. The path was damp, like it had rained the night before or this morning. And one of my favorite things—the dew that clung to the grass nearby—sparkled in the sun like glitter. Rosita was walking up the dirt path, carrying a basket of food from the garden in her arms.

“Good morning guys,” she said as Daryl walked past her. He just gave her a nod and a small “hey” and kept making his way to the front gate. She reached her arm out and grabbed mine to stop me. “Vector, can I talk to you for a second?”

“Uh, yeah, real quick 'cause I gotta skedaddle. What’s up?” She looked over my shoulder to make sure Daryl was far enough away and dropped her voice to a whisper.

“What’s going on here?” she asked, beaming. I rolled my eyes and huffed at her.

“I guess Rick wants us to go out on a run. At least that’s what Daryl told me. Also gonna try to find a prosthetic foot for Aaron for when he needs it,” I explained, also dropping my voice to a whisper.

“Sounds like you two have a long day ahead of you,” she replied, “are you excited?”

I looked down at my feet and smiled, a faint blush of pink gracing my cheeks. “I am. I just hope being stuck with me all day won’t annoy him, y’know?”

“Well if it does, you’ll know. So if it’s not obvious, you’re fine. Now go, you have a handsome archer waiting for you.” She started to turn away, then turned back. “Be sure to tell me all about it once you’re back.” I nodded and jogged off to catch up with Daryl, who was already at the front waiting on me.

“So what did Rick want us to go out for?” I asked as I buckled myself into the car.

“Said there’s some big ass grocery store nearby. Wants us to get what we can,” Daryl explained as he drove us out the front gates, “stock up ‘fore winter sets in and we can’t grow nothin’.”

“Ah, groshrees and a prosthetic foot. How exciting.” I could see him make a face in my peripheral.

“The hell’s “groshrees?” Ya don’t sound like no east coaster.” I stifled a chuckle and pulled down the sun visor in front of me, shifting it to the side window to keep the rising sun out of my eyes.

“That would be my Midwestern accent. I grew up in Ohio, close to the Michigan border. I say groceries like “groshrees” and wintertime like “winnertime.” Med school took me to the east coast.” I thought this would be a good segway into trying to get to know Daryl a little better. “What about you, Daryl? You sound like you’re from deeper south than Virginia.”

“Georgia,” he said, then quickly changing the subject back to me, like he already had his next question lined up, “what’s Doctors Without Borders?”

“Hmm?”

“When ya got here, ya told Rick somethin’ ‘bout wantin’ to join Doctors Without Borders, an’ he seemed impressed.” Of course, I was happy to answer just about any question he had, and I liked that he seemed to take a genuine interest in me and my life. But damn, he couldn’t even keep the subject on himself for two seconds, and it was starting to get a little frustrating.

“Oh, yeah, it was a non-profit that sent doctors around the world to provide medical care in areas where people needed it. Places with rampant diseases they couldn’t keep under control, war-torn countries, places where people had experienced natural disasters and such.”

I looked over at him and studied his features as I kept talking. He had his eyes focused ahead of him on the road, but I could picture them perfectly, those gorgeous pools of cerulean blue. Even though he was paying attention to the road, as he should, I could tell he was actively listening, genuinely curious and taking in every single word I said. He always did. “I wanted to get a few years of practice in after residency before joining. But instead, the world fell. Guess I was destined to end up in a war zone regardless.”

“Selfless as hell. Not somethin’ most people’d do,” Daryl replied, this time turning to me for just a second, gracing my face with his beautiful eyes, followed by a very, very tiny smile that tugged at one of the corners of his mouth. Our eyes locked for just a moment, and in just that one moment, my knees became weak and my heart rate increased. He truly was beautiful.

“Thank you.” This time, I was determined to get something out of him. “Alright, enough about me. You gotta give me some more info about you,” I said, propping my right foot up on my seat and wrapping my arms around my leg.

“Why?”

“Because you have asked me a million questions about myself in the last few days, and I’m gettin’ real sick and tired of hearing my own voice,” I explained, offering him a soft smile, “you are one mysterious human being, and I want to get to know you. We’re friends, right?” I scratched at the side of my thumb with my index finger. “I hope. Plus, I don’t wanna be a nuisance by just going on and on and on.”

“If I thought ya’s annoyin’, I wouldn’ta kept talkin’ to ya or brought ya along,” he said in an attempt to offer some reassurance.

“But still, I would like to know more about you. So let me do the asking, and you do the talking. Please.” To my surprise, the car slowly rolled to a stop, and he turned once again to meet my gaze, this time for longer. New butterflies in my stomach were starting to break out of their chrysalids. “I won’t get too personal I promise. Unless you want me to.” I gave him a flirtatious smirk, and I saw that small smile pull at the corner of his mouth again.

“Fine,” Daryl said, breaking eye contact and starting down the road again, “only cause ya asked so nicely.”

I had to take a second before I started speaking again. What had just happened? Was there tension in the air there? Did I imagine it? Was he being flirtatious back? Or was I imagining that as well? My head was spinning, and I had to take a couple of deep, but quiet, breaths to slow my heart rate down.

“What did you do before all of this?” I asked, then remembering that I had asked that question on our first run and he didn’t seem very receptive to it, “oh shit, I asked you that before. If it’s a touchy subject, you don’t have to answer it.” My rough-and-tumble redneck companion was quiet for a moment, and I was trying to come up with my next question when he answered.

“Nah, you’re good.” He pondered for a moment, choosing his words carefully to perfectly craft his answer. “I was just existin’. Floatin’ through life. Wake up every mornin’, and whatever Merle said we was doin's what we did.”

He mentioned someone’s name. Progress.

“Who’s Merle?” I asked. I continued scratching at the side of my thumb with my index finger in an attempt to quell my anxiety. It was never painful, never enough to break skin, but it was enough to be a distraction from my feelings of unease.

“He’s mah brother.” I didn’t know whether the “he’s” was supposed to be he is or he was, but I decided not to prod further on that.

“Is he like you?”

“Whadaya mean?” I hadn’t quite thought this far ahead.

“Y’know, like…easy to talk to, pleasant to be around, things like that,” I said. He scoffed at my remark.

“Guy was a jackass. Righteous prick. Bit of a creep. You wouldn’ta liked ‘im.” The “was” clarified for me that he was either dead, or Daryl didn’t know where he was.

“Do you think he would've liked me?" I bit the inside of my bottom lip. Jesus Vec, why’d you ask that? What does it matter?

"Merle? Yeah, he'da liked ya. Probably a lil' too much,” Daryl replied. I felt my body fight to physically recoil at the thought of what that could’ve meant, but I kept still.

"I could've taken him,” I said rather confidently. Daryl scoffed at me again.

"That's a lotta big talk comin' from someone so tiny,” he teased. I stuck my tongue out at him.

"Oh please. I've taken on people bigger than me before,” I elaborated, digging through the recesses of my brain for one of the stories where a man tried to fuck around with me and found out. I stretched my legs out and put my feet up on the dash, crossing one ankle over the other. “I once caught a man spiking my drink at a bar."

"What'dya do to ‘im?"

"I broke his nose...and his jaw...and his collarbone. Poor bastard didn't know whose drink he was messing with. Mama didn’t raise no bitch,” I said. Even though I could only see his side profile, I saw Daryl’s eyes widen just a little, and he had the tiniest smile on his face, like a proud parent.

"Nice. Didn't get arrested or nothin'?"

“Well, if he went to the cops to press charges on me, they’d eventually see the bar footage of him trying to drug me. Guess he didn’t want any smoke.” He took a turn down a random road, and I could see a building off in the distance with a tall sign in front of it, like the ones you see for gas stations on the side of highway exits. "Plus, he had like half a foot on me. I don’t think he wanted to admit that he got his ass beat by a woman much smaller than him.”

“Jackass had it comin’. Glad nothin’ happened to ya,” he said. I pulled the sleeves of my jacket up just a little and subtly rubbed at the scars on my right wrist.

“Me too,” I said, biting the inside of my lip. Nothing happened that time, sure, but what would he think if he found out about the time that something did? “But we’re going back to talking about you now. Your crossbow’s really cool. How did that become your weapon of choice?”

“Learned it when I was young. 's quiet, deadly, bolts easy ‘nough to come by."

“Did Merle teach you? Or your parents?” I saw his arms flex slightly, like he squeezed harder on the steering wheel for just a second, then stopped. Ok, no more bringing up Merle or his family. Got it, I said to myself, making a mental note of it.

“Taught m’self,” Daryl said, pulling into the tiny parking lot of the abandoned store that we’d be scavenging, “had to learn to hunt, quietest weapon I could find. Saved my ass more than once.”

“Well, it’s sick. Makes you look like a bonafide badass,” I complimented, swinging the car door open and letting myself out, “my brothers taught me how to fight, but that was it. Guess they figured it’d be the only skill I needed when the world was…normal.”

“I could teach ya,” Daryl responded, rather quickly, “I mean, if ya wanted. Should know how, just in case.” I folded my arms on the car's roof and rested my chin on them.

“Yeah, that…that would be cool. Thanks.” He was hunched over in the car, reaching for what I presumed to be his crossbow. I slung my bag over my shoulders. “Don’t think we’re finished here. I have more questions for you.” I shut my door, and he lifted his head back up and rolled his eyes at me. I gave him a smirk in response.

“Whatever,” he said, shutting his door and locking the car, shoving the keys in his back pocket. I swung my backpack around to my side, rummaging in it for a second. I could finally put my most unique weapon to use.

“Here we go,” I said, pulling the black vibrator out of my bag, “I can finally show you how I kill walkers with this thing.” He scoffed and pried the sliding glass doors open, stepping in first in front of me, crossbow ready to fire.

We tiptoed in slowly, waiting for the shuffling sounds of any walkers or people. At first, there was nothing, but after some more tiptoes from us, there were some walker moans and groans echoing from somewhere inside the store. We carefully scanned each aisle, rounding each corner with extreme caution. Daryl got one walker as we came around a corner towards the far end of the store, hitting it right between the eyes.

Even when he was doing something as grisly as killing walkers, he was still the most beautiful human I’d ever laid my eyes on.

We hit the opposite end of the store after cutting through the back area to check for people and make sure we were completely alone. There was one more walker, stumbling around in the back corner of the store, chomping its teeth at us as it sauntered closer. It was wearing a priest's collar.

“Well go on,” Daryl said, stepping out from in front of me to my side, “go get the Father.” I let out a small chuckle and approached the creature, vibrator in hand, the top piece fixated to smack it in the temple.

“‘Sup Daddy?” I joked, swinging the vibrator like a bat and smacking the thing upside the head before it could even try to reach for me. The side of its head was caved in. I leaned over next to it and gave it a few more good whacks in the skull until the moaning and groaning stopped. I wiped my weapon off on its pants and slipped it into the holster on my leg for my knife before looking back up at Daryl, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Told you it’s a good weapon.”

Finding Myself, Finding You: Chapter Twelve

Masterlist

AO3 link

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist <3 (18+ only, MDNI)

Story is 18+ for mature content/themes, minors do not interact please

TW/CWs for this story--implied/referenced past rape, canonical violence, non-canonical violence, blood, gore, referenced past suicide, swearing, surgery, excessive drinking, nightmares, panic attacks, mention of scars, vomiting, amputation, medical procedures, non-con medical procedures, referenced past medical torture, referenced past drugging, attempted sexual assault, panic attacks, mental health struggles, referenced sibling death, referenced parent death

Each chapter will have its own TW/CWs listed

This story, Lydia Vector, her family & bestie (c) me, TheVeganDarkElf

TWD & its characters (c) AMC & Robert Kirkman, the writer of the comic series

Sleeping Beauty (c) Disney, Wednesday Addams (c) Charles Addams

TW/CWs for this chapter--swearing, mentions of sibling death, mentions of blood (kinda?), attempted amputation, and violence (past experience of something trying to cut their own arm off after walker bite)

Word count: 2.7k

There was plenty for us to go through in the store, and I wasn’t sure if we’d be able to get it all or if we’d have to come back another time. Maybe it only seemed like a lot because I was expecting to find far less, but I was grateful nonetheless. Plus, we still had the medical center to go to, and I would of course be taking everything in sight from there.

We did what we did on the last one, where I started at one end and Daryl at the other. The boxes from before were still in the car, so we grabbed those to use. I was in an aisle that had canned vegetables and beans, and I even found a couple boxes of mac ’n cheese. Call me a child, but it was still one of my favorites. That, cheap ramen packets, and my dump ’n pray recipes got me through med school.

I took my now full box and carried it over near where Daryl was, setting it down and grabbing another one to take back to the other side with me. I knelt down at at the end of one of the aisles where I found things like oil and vinegar. Daryl had climbed up some shelves to reach some stuff on the top of one of the aisles. I noticed an empty beer bottle on the floor near me. The label had been removed, and there had been masking tape placed on it with a heart drawn on the tape in Sharpie.

“It’s like goddamn spin the bottle,” I laughed, tapping the top of the bottle so it spun around. If there in fact was a group of people who sat here and played, I hoped it worked out in everyone’s favor. Daryl looked down when he heard the bottle clinking around on the floor.

“The hell’s that?” Daryl asked. I looked up at him and let out a single chuckle before going back to what I was doing.

“Daryl, you sweet summer child,” I sighed, “it’s a game you play with a group of people. You all sit in a circle around a bottle, one person starts, and they spin the bottle around. They have to kiss whoever the top end points to when it stops.”

I had to physically restrain myself from saying I would go and tapping the bottle to rotate it to point at him. I heard Carol’s voice in the back of my head. Be patient with him.

“Seems weird,” he said, dropping some items he pulled from the back of the top shelf into the box below him, “what if couples ‘re playin’?”

“Ideally, everyone playing is single. It’s mostly a thing high schoolers & college students play at parties,” I explained, snickering a little, “I had my first kiss during a game of spin the bottle in high school. It was fucking awful.” I managed to elicit a stifled laugh from Daryl. I kept grabbing random bottles off the shelf and putting them into my box. "Guy tried to play grab-ass, so I gave him a black eye in front of everyone. Called me a bitch like what I did was unprompted. People at my high school quickly learned I was not to be fucked with.”

“Jesus. How old were ya?” I stuck my head between two of the shelves to reach something at the back.

“Uh, like 14 or 15 I think. I’ve always been really friendly, very approachable, if you will, and people tend to think they can take advantage of that until I show them that if they fuck around, they’re sure to find out.”

“Hey,” Daryl called down to me, and I pulled my head out from the shelf and looked up at him, “any of the guys ‘round Alexandria give ya trouble, send ‘em my way. They can fuck around ’nd find out with me. Sound like you’ve dealt with ’nough already.” The warming sensation in my chest returned again, and my stomach flipped around in my abdomen. I gave him a giant smile.

“Thanks. That uh…that means a lot.” I knew I could handle my own if any of the men around Alexandria did so choose to fuck around with me, and I think he knew that too, but it was sweet that Daryl wanted to take some of that burden off of me if it happened.

There was a couple minutes of silence between us before either one said anything. I don’t know how it happened, but a certain level of boldness came over me. “Hey Daryl? Did you have a girlfriend before all this?” I asked, “or a boyfriend. I don’t mean to be presumptuous.”

“Was always just Merle ’nd I,” he said. There was more silence for a minute. I think he was deciding whether or not to ask the question he eventually did. “You?”

“Me neither. Men are trash.” I looked up at Daryl and smiled. “Present company excluded, of course. Last guy I dated was probably early college, and he was terrible. He was possessive as hell, even got insecure over me hanging out with my brothers. Weird ass.”

“Sounds like you’ve dealt with some real human garbage,” he said, climbing down the shelves from his perch, “glad to know I’m excluded.” I got up from my spot on the floor to go down the next aisle, feeling the blood rushing to my cheeks once again. This time, I just allowed it to happen.

We continued our way around the store, grabbing what we could and filling the boxes and my backpack as much as we could. If this medical center had plenty to take, hopefully they’d have something to store it in. It did in fact seem like a lot because I was expecting there to be less. Apparently, this area had been evacuated pretty early on, so that explained why we got so lucky both times we’ve gone out.

I was going to stick with it being that I was a good luck charm though.

“The hell’s almond milk?” Daryl said, flipping the blue carton around in his hands, scanning over it.

“Oh shit, nice!” I exclaimed, “throw it here.” I reached my arms out, and he turned around and gently tossed the carton in my direction. I caught it and inspected it myself. “It’s a milk substitute made from almonds, like for people with dairy allergies. It’s not too bad in a pinch.” I placed the carton into my box. “Jay was violently allergic to dairy. Poor guy could literally look at a stick of butter and I swear it’d make him sick.”

“Ya talk ‘bout your brothers a lot,” I heard Daryl say from a couple aisles over.

“Oh yeah, guess I do. Sorry,” I replied, rather sheepishly. The fear of coming across as annoying came creeping back in at full force.

“Ain’t say it’s bad. Sounds like they were good to ya,” he said.

“They were. They were some of my best friends. I got really lucky,” I responded. I smiled at the fond memories that flashed quickly through my mind—them teaching me to fight, staying up late in the summertime when we were kids and sneaking out into the backyard after our parents went to sleep to catch fireflies, long conversations around a bonfire on family vacations, making snow angels in the winter…my daydreams were interrupted by Daryl’s next question.

“Hey Vec? When ya got here, ya said somethin’ ‘bout when this started, gettin’ home ‘nd findin’ one of ‘em. Had to…finish ‘em off.” I heard him quickly maneuvering through different aisles, grabbing things as he made his way in my direction. The man worked fast, I’d give him that.

I set my box down on a shelf in front of me, grabbing a couple containers of random spices and tossing them in. “I thought it was established that I was done answering questions,” I joked. I had no issues talking about Eli, but I didn’t want to get too emotional out on a run where it was important to remain vigilant. “But yeah, I did. It was Eli. He was the youngest of them. Preston was the oldest, and Jay and Eli were twins, then there was me. I was on my way home already when everything started, and when I got there, I, uh…”

I took my glasses off and set them gently next to my box, holding my sleeves to my eyes to quickly soak up the impending tears. “I found him in the living room. He’d gotten bit. More than once.” I kept my sleeves pressed to my eyes and tried my best to control my voice so it didn’t sound like I was about to start crying. “He tried to cut his arm off. Couldn't get the axe through. Poor guy still had it in his shoulder when I found him. After that, I just sat in the house and cried for hours. I miss him terribly.”

I dried my eyes and blinked back the tears that tried to creep through. I took a couple of deep breaths and fanned my eyes before putting my glasses back on. Although I couldn’t see them myself, I’m sure my eyes were red. I placed a couple more things in and turned back to see Daryl standing at the end cap, startling me once again and causing me to almost drop the now-full box in my arms.

“God, what did I say about sneaking up on me?” I scolded. I immediately felt bad for the tone I used, which was more irritated than it would normally be given my heightened emotions. “Fuck, sorry. I just don’t wanna get too emotional outside the walls. Gotta stay on high alert, y’know?”

“Yeah,” he said, walking past me towards the front of the store. We had about cleared the place out by that point. “Sorry ‘bout askin’.”

“Don’t apologize. It’s ok, really. We’ve all lost people we love to this fucking virus. Something we all got in common. Might as well talk about them, keep their memories alive and whatnot,” I said, following behind him.

We took a couple trips putting boxes into the trunk before taking one more walk-through to make sure we didn’t miss anything. After that, we climbed back into the car to go find this medical center that would, ideally, have a prosthetic for Aaron. And hopefully more. Could never have too much medical supplies on hand, as far I was concerned.

“The good luck charm strikes again,” I called out as I skipped out the front door of the store back to the car. I could feel Daryl rolling his eyes at me as I climbed into the car and made myself comfortable.

“So Daryl,” I said, strapping myself back into my seat, “back to talking about you again. What are your interests? Like what hobbies do you have? Well, if we can even have hobbies anymore. I mean, I write, I guess that’s a hobby.” He turned back out onto the road, going in the opposite direction that we came from. I pulled my water bottle out of my very crammed backpack to finally chug some. Still had a bad habit of letting myself get dehydrated, even with regular access to water.

“Guess I got my bike.” I figured he had to be referring to the motorcycle I’d seen sitting near the front gates. I’d never seen anyone use it, so I wasn’t sure who it belonged to, but now that I knew it was Daryl’s, I couldn’t say I was surprised.

Daryl—the tall, tan, whiskey-sippin’, motorcycle-ridin’, crossbow-wielding bonafide badass who smelled like leather and tobacco. And then there was me—the “tiny,” soft, flower-pickin’, poetry-writin’, Disney princess-ass surgeon who used a sex toy as a weapon. We made quite a team.

“Oh shit, that bike’s yours? I was wondering who it belonged to,” I said, “that’s so dope. But please tell me you have a helmet you wear with it.” When he didn’t answer, I clicked my tongue and gave him a disapproving stare. “You don’t wanna know how many people I saw torn to pieces after motorcycle accidents and how many death certificates I signed because someone wasn’t wearing a helmet. If you ever find one, promise me you’ll wear it.”

“No promises, but ok,” he said, taking a turn onto the next road. I huffed a sigh and put my feet back up on the dash, crossing my legs.

"Could you show me some stuff about your bike sometime?" I asked, “I don’t know, maybe have me hang around next time you give a tune-up or something.” He was quiet, and I twirled a piece of hair in my finger, afraid that maybe I’d been too forward somehow. I wiggled my toes again to keep my mind preoccupied in the silent car.

“What for?” He seemed surprised by my interest.

"I like learning about the things my friends are interested in. I may not understand it, but if it's important to them, then it's important to me,” I explained, reminiscing on the times my best friend would lecture on about engineering and my dad go on and on about space, “I like watching people’s faces light up when they talk about something they love, how excited they get when they get to tell me about this thing that means so much to them. It makes me happy to see them happy.”

“You’re just a goddamn ray of sunshine, aren’tcha?” I could tell by his tone that it wasn’t meant in a bad way. Not in a “you’re too much of a ray of sunshine, calm down” kind of way, but in an acknowledging kind of way. Maybe an admiring kind of way.

I laughed a little. “I try to be. It’s hard enough out there as it is.”

He was quiet once again, the same stoic look on his face that made it impossible for me to tell what was going on in that pretty little head. The only sounds were the tires on the dirt road and the hum of the engine.

“Yeah, I’ll show ya some stuff,” he finally said.

“Nice,” I said, doing a tiny fist pump in the air, “alright, next question. Umm…what would you be doing if the world never fell?” He gave me a quick glance before putting his eyes back on the road.

“Whadaya think I’d be doin’?” he asked. My eyes scanned over him before resting on his muscular arms. It didn’t help that he was wearing one of his shirts with the sleeves hacked off. Or maybe it did. Was I using this as a moment to check him out? Absolutely.

“You look like the handyman type. Or an auto mechanic maybe. Some kind of manual labor for sure, you’re definitely built for it,” I said, biting my tongue upon realizing that it could potentially be interpreted as flirting. Yeah, I had done a little bit, but I was afraid of going too overboard. I didn’t want to make him uncomfortable or freak him out.

“Sounds ‘bout right.”

I rested the side of my head on the window, staring out at a couple of deer that were prancing off in the distance. “Alright tough guy, what about me? If you didn’t know I was a doctor, what do you think I’d be doing in a normal world?”

He hardly skipped a beat. “Probably a comedian since ya talk so damn much,” he said. My jaw dropped, both at how quickly he came up with such a comeback as well as the nature of the comeback itself. However, I could tell by his tone that he was messing with me.

“Ouch,” I said sarcastically, leaning back in my seat and placing my hand over my chest, giving him a cheeky smile, “right in the heart.” I saw that tiny smile tug at the corner of his mouth again. 

“Nah, I’m just teasin’. A shrink suits ya,” he said. I took it as his way of saying I was a good listener and easy to talk to, which brought a little smile to my face and put that warm sensation back in my chest.

“So still a doctor, just a different kind?”

“Guess so.”

Finding Myself, Finding You: Chapter Thirteen

Masterlist

AO3 link

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist <3 (18+ only, MDNI)

Story is 18+ for mature content/themes, minors do not interact please

TW/CWs for this story--implied/referenced past rape, canonical violence, non-canonical violence, blood, gore, referenced past suicide, swearing, surgery, excessive drinking, nightmares, panic attacks, mention of scars, vomiting, amputation, medical procedures, non-con medical procedures, referenced past medical torture, referenced past drugging, attempted sexual assault, panic attacks, mental health struggles, referenced sibling death, referenced parent death

Each chapter will have its own TW/CWs listed

This story, Lydia Vector, her family & bestie (c) me, TheVeganDarkElf

TWD & its characters (c) AMC & Robert Kirkman, the writer of the comic series

Sleeping Beauty (c) Disney, Wednesday Addams (c) Charles Addams

TW/CWs for this chapter--swearing (there's swearing in every chapter ok), allusion to child abuse (Daryl's history), gagging, mentions of trying not to vomit, a gross story about food coming out someone's nose, mention of scars, mention of blood, mention of needles

Word count: 2.7k

"Ooh, I got one. Do you have an embarrassing story to share? If you share one, I’ll tell you one of mine. Make it fair,” I said.

We’d been driving for a little bit, just shooting the shit on our way to find Aaron a foot. It was nice to sit back and talk with Daryl while we cruised down the empty road. Made things seem a little bit normal, like this was just a cross-country road trip with a friend and not going to find a prosthetic for someone whose foot I had to cut off with an axe after a walker bite. He was easy to talk to, a bit awkward with some of the things he said, but it was an enjoyable experience regardless. The little bits of awkwardness were cute and made me think that maybe he was getting a little nervous, which I thought was adorable. It was going well so far, and I felt like I was actually starting to get to know Daryl, even if it was just a tiny bit.

“Nah, don’t got one,” he said. I crossed my arms over my chest and turned my body slightly in his direction, sighing a little.

“Come on, please? I’m sure you do,” I asked, making a pouty face to tease him, “we all do. If it helps, I have some that are pretty bad.” He looked over at my pathetic attempt of a pouty face, and his features relaxed a little, like he couldn’t say no and was accepting defeat.

“Fine,” Daryl said, “when I was a kid, got lost in the woods and accidentally used poison oak after...yeah. Ass itched somethin’ awful.” I stifled my laugh a bit, though it was mostly the phrase “ass itched somethin’ awful” that made me giggle.

“Oof, that’s brutal. How long were you lost for?” I asked, expecting him to say hours at most, or that he was out camping or something when it happened.

“Nine days. Dad didn’t even know I was gone.”

I could feel my heart breaking for little Daryl. To be lost for that long, especially as a child…how alone and scared he must’ve felt…how he wouldn’t have known what to do to survive and be trying to figure it out as he went, all while trying to get home...and to not even have anyone out looking for you…I knew he would never say it, but it had to be traumatizing. I felt terrible for insisting he share. I’d never felt like such a piece of shit before.

“Why ya look so sad?” Daryl said, looking over at me and seeing the somber expression on my face. There was a tear trying to escape my right eye, but I quickly blinked it back.

I softened the tone of my voice. “You were a child, Daryl. That’s awful. No kid should have to endure that. I’m so sorry.” I wanted to throw myself over the center console and wrap him in my arms and give him a giant hug, but I restrained myself. “I feel like such a piece of shit for pushing you to share, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“’S’alright. Ya didn’t know,” he replied. Something in him looked different, but I couldn’t explain what it was. He seemed more relaxed overall. Maybe no one had shown him that kind of empathy before. Maybe he’d wanted to get that off his chest & he felt relieved. Maybe he was nervous about how I’d react. There was no way for me to tell. That handsome, stoic face of his made it so hard to tell how he was feeling. However, that stoic expression was quickly replaced with a devious little smirk. “Ya can make it up to me by tellin’ a couple stories of your own.”

I raised my eyebrows at him in surprise. “Like more than one? You drive a hard bargain. I gotta think about this.”

“How many ya got?”

“There’s three that come to mind, but you’re only getting two.”

“Why not all of ‘em? Feels fair,” he teased.

"No, if I tell you the worst story, I'll have to throw myself out of this car,” I explained, “it’s bad.”

“If ya tell the worst one, ya only gotta tell one.” I huffed and twirled a chunk of my ponytail around my finger.

“Fine. But I’m warning you, it’s gross.” I took a deep breath and tried not to immediately start gagging at the thought of the story I was about to tell. “So when I was probably 21 or 22, I went on a first date with this guy I met in one of my classes. We met up at this random off-campus restaurant, and I made the terrible mistake of getting spaghetti. Well at one point, he’s telling a story, and I have food in my mouth.” I stopped and covered my mouth as I gagged. “So he’s telling his story, and I sneeze…and I wish I was making this up, but one of the pieces of spaghetti came up through and out my nose…I was trying not to throw up the whole time I was pulling it out. He immediately got up and left. Like didn’t say a single word, just left. I haven’t been able to look at spaghetti since. Even the sight of a box of spaghetti makes me wanna vomit.”

He didn’t say anything at first, but I could tell he was fighting back laughter. All that came out was a small, adorable chuckle. “That’s so much worse than I thought it’d be.”

“Worse? Alright, time to throw myself out of the car,” I said, pretending like I was going to unbuckle my seatbelt. “I never share that story. If we weren’t friends before, we definitely are now. And I think it goes without saying that you’re sworn to secrecy with that story. Are we even now?”

“Yeah. We’re even now,” he replied.

We continued chatting for the short remainder of the ride to this medical center, but I couldn’t stop thinking about how terrible I felt for what felt like forcing Daryl to share such a sad story. I was worried it would have an impact on our interactions when we got back to Alexandria, worried that maybe he hated me now or would never speak to me again once we got back inside the walls. But I felt worse about bringing up what was likely painful memories for him. He seemed alright, and he said we were even, but I wondered if there was another way I could make it up to him.

We turned down one more road, and there was a decently-sized brick building just down the street from the corner. As Daryl pulled into the lot, I read the promising large letters across the top of the building—orthopedic surgery. It wasn’t orthotics and prosthetics, but it was about as close as we were gonna get.

“Ortho surg,” I said as Daryl put the car in park, “nice.”

“That good?” he asked. I grabbed my backpack and put it in my lap, shoving my water bottle back inside.

“It’s potentially promising. If push comes to shove, maybe there’ll be a walker we can steal one off of.” He unbuckled and started to get out of the car, but I reached my hand out and lightly grazed his forearm with the tips of my fingers. “Daryl…are you ok?”

“Yeah,” he said as he turned back to me, clearly confused, “why?”

“Just…the story you shared earlier. I know better than to push people like that, and that was very not cool of me. I’m really sorry if it brought up painful memories for you.”

“Like I said, ya don’t gotta apologize. Ya didn’t know. But thanks,” he said, “apology accepted. Plus, I had ya cryin’ in the store earlier talkin’ ‘bout Eli. We’re good.”

“Oh my god, are we bonding?” I gushed playfully.

“Shut up,” he joked, turning and getting out of the car. I took some things out of my backpack and tossed them into the backseat to make room for anything we might find inside. I brought my spear out and unsheathed it as I got out of the car and followed Daryl inside.

Clearing the office out was easy enough. There were several more walkers than there had been at the other places we’d been to, but it was manageable between the two of us. I walked around to what looked like the front desk area to try to find a directory or anything that could indicate if they had prosthetics, and if so, where they might be stored.

“If you see anything that says orthotics or prosthetics, lemme know,” I said, setting my spear down on the front desk. I started flipping through a binder of random papers while Daryl started checking some of the rooms. There were a few that had keypads on them, which likely meant that there was supplies in there with a code for staff to use. Even if we had the codes, there was no power, so we’d have to manually find a way to break the doors down.

“Find a paperclip or somethin’,” Daryl called out to me from down the hall, “we can try to pick the locks.” The binder I was looking through didn’t seem to be useful, so I started searching drawers for office supplies. I pushed my sleeves up to my elbows. It was starting to get warm, and I was regretting wearing a jacket without a shirt underneath. One of the drawers had a small box of paper clips in it. Score.

“Got it!” I yelled. I grabbed my spear and jumped back over the desk, scuttling down the hall to meet Daryl. I took a larger clip out of the box and handed it to him. Our fingers briefly touched again, and there was that same electric feeling from this morning when our fingers touched as he handed me my coffee. The same electric feeling from when my fingers grazed his forearm in the car before we came inside.

He slung his crossbow across his back and straightened out the paperclip. Getting down on one knee, he started trying to pick the lock, and I went back to try to find something that would tell us what was in these closets. I could hear him fiddling around with the lock, and eventually, a click echoed through the silence of the office.

“Got it,” he said, and I could hear him cautiously pushing the door open.

“Lockpicking just increased to 30,” I whispered to myself as I went down the hall to meet him.

This particular storage closet had mostly been cleared out. It looked like it was used to store gowns, paper for the beds, gloves, masks, braces, and probably some first aid stuff. There was a box of gloves and some braces, so I went over and put those into my backpack.

“Damn it,” I huffed, “alright, let’s try another one. I’ll keep trying to find a map of this place or something.”

I rummaged around the front desk more before finding a paper map that had been thrown in a trash can. I pulled it out and held it up so it matched the direction I was facing. It looked like a poorly scanned paper copy of another poorly scanned paper copy, so the text that was legible enough was tiny and barely legible. I could make out “pros” on one of the square spaces.

“Daryl, I think I found it.” I was already walking back towards him when I yelled out, looking down at the map at the tiny print as I walked, and I bumped right into him. He was standing in front of another closet door, which he had already picked open.

“So did I,” he said, stepping into the room.

Looking around, there were shelves of different types of prosthetics, including feet, hands, partial arms, full arms, etc. I figured they were likely used for fittings so a prescription could be submitted for the right size and type, but there were options, which is what we needed.

"Geez. Someone with a foot fetish would have a hay day in here,” I joked, “try to find different sizes. One of them is bound to fit. Oh, Aaron’s gonna be so excited when I show him.” My face was lit up. I felt like I was getting to do something similar to my type of specialty again. I got down on the ground and grabbed a couple of prosthetic feet, placing them into my bag. There was just enough room for both of them. I grabbed a third and held it in my hands, flipping it around and daydreaming about my days in the ER.

“Ya okay?” Daryl asked me, squatting down next to me. He had grabbed a few prosthetics and put them in his bag as well, carrying a couple more under his arm.

“I just miss my job is all,” I said, continuing to flip the fake foot around in my hand as I talked, “I sat with people on what was usually the scariest day of their entire life. Sat with them while they died. Yeah, it was intense. But I think it’s what I was meant to do. It was fulfilling. It gave me purpose.” A single tear escaped my eye, and I quickly wiped it away with the back of my hand. “Sorry, I don’t mean to get all cheesy and shit.”

“Your patients were lucky to have ya,” he said. I could see in my peripheral vision that he was staring at my scars as I fiddled around with the prosthetic. I pulled my sleeves back down to cover the thick bands of scar tissue.

“That means a lot. Thank you.” I wiped another tear away with the back of my hand, laughing a little. “God, you’re gonna make me cry again.”

“C’mon. Might as well clear the place out. Still got upstairs to do,” Daryl said, lifting himself back to his feet.

We made several trips in and out, carrying out all of the prosthetics we could. It would be good to have these in the infirmary in case I had to perform another amputation. After that, we went upstairs. The second floor contained a blood draw station and an X-ray lab.

“Blood draw might have some stuff,” I said, going behind their front desk, “don’t reach into any sharps containers though.”

There were some more boxes of gloves and masks, rubber bands for putting on people’s arms to take samples, needles, and alcohol pads. I found an empty sharps container to put the needles in and carried out what I could in my arms.

“Good luck charm strikes again,” Daryl joked. He grabbed some of the boxes of gloves and followed me back downstairs.

After we loaded the car and got back in, I laid back in my seat and stared up at the ceiling, feeling exhausted from all the hard work we’d put in. I was sweating buckets, and I felt disgusting.

“We crushed it,” I said, holding my hand up for a high-five, which Daryl returned, “teamwork makes the dream work.” I turned my head towards him. “Thanks for bringing me here so I could get a prosthetic for Aaron. He won’t need it for a while, but I’m gonna have to stop myself from telling him in the meantime. I wanna make it a surprise.”

“Welcome,” he said as he backed us out of the lot and onto the road back to Alexandria, “what else ya gotta do today?”

“Uh, well I’m starving, so I guess start with that. Rosita said she wanted to see me, and I need to reorganize the infirmary now that we have all of this to sort through. What about you?”

“Don’t got watch ’til later. Do what you gotta do, I can make us food.” I smiled and turned my head back up towards the ceiling.

“Thanks Daryl.”

He was such a sweetie. And I was falling very hard, very fast, with no idea where I was going to land.

Taglist: @raddydaddydude

Finding Myself, Finding You: Chapter Thirteen

Masterlist

AO3 link

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist <3 (18+ only, MDNI)

Story is 18+ for mature content/themes, minors do not interact please

TW/CWs for this story--implied/referenced past rape, canonical violence, non-canonical violence, blood, gore, referenced past suicide, swearing, surgery, excessive drinking, nightmares, panic attacks, mention of scars, vomiting, amputation, medical procedures, non-con medical procedures, referenced past medical torture, referenced past drugging, attempted sexual assault, panic attacks, mental health struggles, referenced sibling death, referenced parent death

Each chapter will have its own TW/CWs listed

This story, Lydia Vector, her family & bestie (c) me, TheVeganDarkElf

TWD & its characters (c) AMC & Robert Kirkman, the writer of the comic series

Sleeping Beauty (c) Disney, Wednesday Addams (c) Charles Addams

TW/CWs for this chapter--swearing (there's swearing in every chapter ok), allusion to child abuse (Daryl's history), gagging, mentions of trying not to vomit, a gross story about food coming out someone's nose, mention of scars, mention of blood, mention of needles

Word count: 2.7k

"Ooh, I got one. Do you have an embarrassing story to share? If you share one, I’ll tell you one of mine. Make it fair,” I said.

We’d been driving for a little bit, just shooting the shit on our way to find Aaron a foot. It was nice to sit back and talk with Daryl while we cruised down the empty road. Made things seem a little bit normal, like this was just a cross-country road trip with a friend and not going to find a prosthetic for someone whose foot I had to cut off with an axe after a walker bite. He was easy to talk to, a bit awkward with some of the things he said, but it was an enjoyable experience regardless. The little bits of awkwardness were cute and made me think that maybe he was getting a little nervous, which I thought was adorable. It was going well so far, and I felt like I was actually starting to get to know Daryl, even if it was just a tiny bit.

“Nah, don’t got one,” he said. I crossed my arms over my chest and turned my body slightly in his direction, sighing a little.

“Come on, please? I’m sure you do,” I asked, making a pouty face to tease him, “we all do. If it helps, I have some that are pretty bad.” He looked over at my pathetic attempt of a pouty face, and his features relaxed a little, like he couldn’t say no and was accepting defeat.

“Fine,” Daryl said, “when I was a kid, got lost in the woods and accidentally used poison oak after...yeah. Ass itched somethin’ awful.” I stifled my laugh a bit, though it was mostly the phrase “ass itched somethin’ awful” that made me giggle.

“Oof, that’s brutal. How long were you lost for?” I asked, expecting him to say hours at most, or that he was out camping or something when it happened.

“Nine days. Dad didn’t even know I was gone.”

I could feel my heart breaking for little Daryl. To be lost for that long, especially as a child…how alone and scared he must’ve felt…how he wouldn’t have known what to do to survive and be trying to figure it out as he went, all while trying to get home...and to not even have anyone out looking for you…I knew he would never say it, but it had to be traumatizing. I felt terrible for insisting he share. I’d never felt like such a piece of shit before.

“Why ya look so sad?” Daryl said, looking over at me and seeing the somber expression on my face. There was a tear trying to escape my right eye, but I quickly blinked it back.

I softened the tone of my voice. “You were a child, Daryl. That’s awful. No kid should have to endure that. I’m so sorry.” I wanted to throw myself over the center console and wrap him in my arms and give him a giant hug, but I restrained myself. “I feel like such a piece of shit for pushing you to share, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“’S’alright. Ya didn’t know,” he replied. Something in him looked different, but I couldn’t explain what it was. He seemed more relaxed overall. Maybe no one had shown him that kind of empathy before. Maybe he’d wanted to get that off his chest & he felt relieved. Maybe he was nervous about how I’d react. There was no way for me to tell. That handsome, stoic face of his made it so hard to tell how he was feeling. However, that stoic expression was quickly replaced with a devious little smirk. “Ya can make it up to me by tellin’ a couple stories of your own.”

I raised my eyebrows at him in surprise. “Like more than one? You drive a hard bargain. I gotta think about this.”

“How many ya got?”

“There’s three that come to mind, but you’re only getting two.”

“Why not all of ‘em? Feels fair,” he teased.

"No, if I tell you the worst story, I'll have to throw myself out of this car,” I explained, “it’s bad.”

“If ya tell the worst one, ya only gotta tell one.” I huffed and twirled a chunk of my ponytail around my finger.

“Fine. But I’m warning you, it’s gross.” I took a deep breath and tried not to immediately start gagging at the thought of the story I was about to tell. “So when I was probably 21 or 22, I went on a first date with this guy I met in one of my classes. We met up at this random off-campus restaurant, and I made the terrible mistake of getting spaghetti. Well at one point, he’s telling a story, and I have food in my mouth.” I stopped and covered my mouth as I gagged. “So he’s telling his story, and I sneeze…and I wish I was making this up, but one of the pieces of spaghetti came up through and out my nose…I was trying not to throw up the whole time I was pulling it out. He immediately got up and left. Like didn’t say a single word, just left. I haven’t been able to look at spaghetti since. Even the sight of a box of spaghetti makes me wanna vomit.”

He didn’t say anything at first, but I could tell he was fighting back laughter. All that came out was a small, adorable chuckle. “That’s so much worse than I thought it’d be.”

“Worse? Alright, time to throw myself out of the car,” I said, pretending like I was going to unbuckle my seatbelt. “I never share that story. If we weren’t friends before, we definitely are now. And I think it goes without saying that you’re sworn to secrecy with that story. Are we even now?”

“Yeah. We’re even now,” he replied.

We continued chatting for the short remainder of the ride to this medical center, but I couldn’t stop thinking about how terrible I felt for what felt like forcing Daryl to share such a sad story. I was worried it would have an impact on our interactions when we got back to Alexandria, worried that maybe he hated me now or would never speak to me again once we got back inside the walls. But I felt worse about bringing up what was likely painful memories for him. He seemed alright, and he said we were even, but I wondered if there was another way I could make it up to him.

We turned down one more road, and there was a decently-sized brick building just down the street from the corner. As Daryl pulled into the lot, I read the promising large letters across the top of the building—orthopedic surgery. It wasn’t orthotics and prosthetics, but it was about as close as we were gonna get.

“Ortho surg,” I said as Daryl put the car in park, “nice.”

“That good?” he asked. I grabbed my backpack and put it in my lap, shoving my water bottle back inside.

“It’s potentially promising. If push comes to shove, maybe there’ll be a walker we can steal one off of.” He unbuckled and started to get out of the car, but I reached my hand out and lightly grazed his forearm with the tips of my fingers. “Daryl…are you ok?”

“Yeah,” he said as he turned back to me, clearly confused, “why?”

“Just…the story you shared earlier. I know better than to push people like that, and that was very not cool of me. I’m really sorry if it brought up painful memories for you.”

“Like I said, ya don’t gotta apologize. Ya didn’t know. But thanks,” he said, “apology accepted. Plus, I had ya cryin’ in the store earlier talkin’ ‘bout Eli. We’re good.”

“Oh my god, are we bonding?” I gushed playfully.

“Shut up,” he joked, turning and getting out of the car. I took some things out of my backpack and tossed them into the backseat to make room for anything we might find inside. I brought my spear out and unsheathed it as I got out of the car and followed Daryl inside.

Clearing the office out was easy enough. There were several more walkers than there had been at the other places we’d been to, but it was manageable between the two of us. I walked around to what looked like the front desk area to try to find a directory or anything that could indicate if they had prosthetics, and if so, where they might be stored.

“If you see anything that says orthotics or prosthetics, lemme know,” I said, setting my spear down on the front desk. I started flipping through a binder of random papers while Daryl started checking some of the rooms. There were a few that had keypads on them, which likely meant that there was supplies in there with a code for staff to use. Even if we had the codes, there was no power, so we’d have to manually find a way to break the doors down.

“Find a paperclip or somethin’,” Daryl called out to me from down the hall, “we can try to pick the locks.” The binder I was looking through didn’t seem to be useful, so I started searching drawers for office supplies. I pushed my sleeves up to my elbows. It was starting to get warm, and I was regretting wearing a jacket without a shirt underneath. One of the drawers had a small box of paper clips in it. Score.

“Got it!” I yelled. I grabbed my spear and jumped back over the desk, scuttling down the hall to meet Daryl. I took a larger clip out of the box and handed it to him. Our fingers briefly touched again, and there was that same electric feeling from this morning when our fingers touched as he handed me my coffee. The same electric feeling from when my fingers grazed his forearm in the car before we came inside.

He slung his crossbow across his back and straightened out the paperclip. Getting down on one knee, he started trying to pick the lock, and I went back to try to find something that would tell us what was in these closets. I could hear him fiddling around with the lock, and eventually, a click echoed through the silence of the office.

“Got it,” he said, and I could hear him cautiously pushing the door open.

“Lockpicking just increased to 30,” I whispered to myself as I went down the hall to meet him.

This particular storage closet had mostly been cleared out. It looked like it was used to store gowns, paper for the beds, gloves, masks, braces, and probably some first aid stuff. There was a box of gloves and some braces, so I went over and put those into my backpack.

“Damn it,” I huffed, “alright, let’s try another one. I’ll keep trying to find a map of this place or something.”

I rummaged around the front desk more before finding a paper map that had been thrown in a trash can. I pulled it out and held it up so it matched the direction I was facing. It looked like a poorly scanned paper copy of another poorly scanned paper copy, so the text that was legible enough was tiny and barely legible. I could make out “pros” on one of the square spaces.

“Daryl, I think I found it.” I was already walking back towards him when I yelled out, looking down at the map at the tiny print as I walked, and I bumped right into him. He was standing in front of another closet door, which he had already picked open.

“So did I,” he said, stepping into the room.

Looking around, there were shelves of different types of prosthetics, including feet, hands, partial arms, full arms, etc. I figured they were likely used for fittings so a prescription could be submitted for the right size and type, but there were options, which is what we needed.

"Geez. Someone with a foot fetish would have a hay day in here,” I joked, “try to find different sizes. One of them is bound to fit. Oh, Aaron’s gonna be so excited when I show him.” My face was lit up. I felt like I was getting to do something similar to my type of specialty again. I got down on the ground and grabbed a couple of prosthetic feet, placing them into my bag. There was just enough room for both of them. I grabbed a third and held it in my hands, flipping it around and daydreaming about my days in the ER.

“Ya okay?” Daryl asked me, squatting down next to me. He had grabbed a few prosthetics and put them in his bag as well, carrying a couple more under his arm.

“I just miss my job is all,” I said, continuing to flip the fake foot around in my hand as I talked, “I sat with people on what was usually the scariest day of their entire life. Sat with them while they died. Yeah, it was intense. But I think it’s what I was meant to do. It was fulfilling. It gave me purpose.” A single tear escaped my eye, and I quickly wiped it away with the back of my hand. “Sorry, I don’t mean to get all cheesy and shit.”

“Your patients were lucky to have ya,” he said. I could see in my peripheral vision that he was staring at my scars as I fiddled around with the prosthetic. I pulled my sleeves back down to cover the thick bands of scar tissue.

“That means a lot. Thank you.” I wiped another tear away with the back of my hand, laughing a little. “God, you’re gonna make me cry again.”

“C’mon. Might as well clear the place out. Still got upstairs to do,” Daryl said, lifting himself back to his feet.

We made several trips in and out, carrying out all of the prosthetics we could. It would be good to have these in the infirmary in case I had to perform another amputation. After that, we went upstairs. The second floor contained a blood draw station and an X-ray lab.

“Blood draw might have some stuff,” I said, going behind their front desk, “don’t reach into any sharps containers though.”

There were some more boxes of gloves and masks, rubber bands for putting on people’s arms to take samples, needles, and alcohol pads. I found an empty sharps container to put the needles in and carried out what I could in my arms.

“Good luck charm strikes again,” Daryl joked. He grabbed some of the boxes of gloves and followed me back downstairs.

After we loaded the car and got back in, I laid back in my seat and stared up at the ceiling, feeling exhausted from all the hard work we’d put in. I was sweating buckets, and I felt disgusting.

“We crushed it,” I said, holding my hand up for a high-five, which Daryl returned, “teamwork makes the dream work.” I turned my head towards him. “Thanks for bringing me here so I could get a prosthetic for Aaron. He won’t need it for a while, but I’m gonna have to stop myself from telling him in the meantime. I wanna make it a surprise.”

“Welcome,” he said as he backed us out of the lot and onto the road back to Alexandria, “what else ya gotta do today?”

“Uh, well I’m starving, so I guess start with that. Rosita said she wanted to see me, and I need to reorganize the infirmary now that we have all of this to sort through. What about you?”

“Don’t got watch ’til later. Do what you gotta do, I can make us food.” I smiled and turned my head back up towards the ceiling.

“Thanks Daryl.”

He was such a sweetie. And I was falling very hard, very fast, with no idea where I was going to land.

Taglist: @raddydaddydude

Finding Myself, Finding You: Chapter Fourteen

Masterlist

AO3 link

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist <3 (18+ only, MDNI)

Story is 18+ for mature content/themes, minors do not interact please

TW/CWs for this story--implied/referenced past rape, canonical violence, non-canonical violence, blood, gore, referenced past suicide, swearing, surgery, excessive drinking, nightmares, panic attacks, mention of scars, vomiting, amputation, medical procedures, non-con medical procedures, referenced past medical torture, referenced past drugging, attempted sexual assault, panic attacks, mental health struggles, referenced sibling death, referenced parent death

Each chapter will have its own TW/CWs listed

This story, Lydia Vector, her family & bestie (c) me, TheVeganDarkElf

TWD & its characters (c) AMC & Robert Kirkman, the writer of the comic series

TW/CWs for this chapter--swearing (there's swearing in every chapter ok), description of nightmares, description of violence (description of a walker attacking someone), mention of scars

Word count: 2.7k

Daryl and I kept our conversation going on the ride back to Alexandria, but my mind was definitely in other places. I loved talking with Daryl, and being in his presence, but damn if this man didn’t make me nervous like a 13-year-old girl talking to her middle school crush. He was easy to talk to, and despite his usual frosty and callous attitude towards others, there was a welcoming and safe energy about him, one that I didn’t find anyone else talking about. When we had conversations, he was attentive, seemed interested, asked follow-up questions & remembered the things I said. He was a self-proclaimed tough guy, but the Daryl that I got to see, when it was just the two of us, dare I say, was a bit of a softie.

After a little while, I was starting to recognize the area and figured we must’ve been getting close to Alexandria, which my ravenous stomach was thankful for.

“Can I ask ya a question?” Daryl asked, “if ya don’t wanna answer, it’s fine.”

“Uh, sure,” I answered nervously, wondering where he possibly could’ve been going with this, especially considering this was the first time he’d prefaced asking me a question by asking if he could.

“Ya said ya’d been havin’ nightmares for some time,” he said. My stomach began to lightly churn at the thought of the different directions in which he could take this. “Ya had ‘em a long time?”

“Uh, no. They only started after the world went to shit,” I explained. I wiggled my toes in an attempt to keep myself calm.

“They always been the same?” Daryl asked. I shook my head.

“So they used to be the same thing every night. I would be crossing the stage at a ceremony after getting board-certified. I’d look out at the audience and see my parents and brothers in the front row, looking so proud as their only daughter and sister became an official fully licensed surgeon. Then I look out at the audience again and see a walker coming down the aisle towards my family. He goes up to my mother and attacks her, and she screams, then everyone starts screaming. He bites her in the neck and tears her vocal cords, and when her screaming stops is always when I would wake up.” I twirled a chunk of my ponytail around my finger and chewed at the inside of my lip. “They changed around the time I got here.”

Despite the churning of my stomach, the pounding of my heart, and the sensation of feeling small that overcame me, I felt the desire to keep going. It was like the words were coming out of me whether I wanted them to or not. But there was a sense of safety, which comforted me as the words came out on their own accord. “Now, it’s still mostly just a blur of colors and physical sensations, and some sounds. But each night, the blurs get a little less blurry, the physical sensations feel more real, and the sounds get louder.” I folded my legs and brought my knees up to my chest, wrapping my arms around them, resting my chin on my knees. “And I’m scared for when it becomes crystal clear.”

“Hey,” he said, and I turned my face to look at him. His face had softened a little, his normal stoic expression appearing less rigid than usual, “nothin’ to be scared of. It’s not real.”

Oh, but it was. It was a very real thing that haunted my every move, that I couldn’t even escape in dreamland. Still, I appreciated his attempt to provide me some comfort.

“I know. Sure feels real though. It always takes me a minute after I wake up on the floor to realize I’m awake and was dreaming,” I explained, resting the side of my head on my forearms, keeping my gaze on Daryl. “It’s pretty jarring at times.”

We pulled up to the front gates, and he brought the car to a stop while we waited for the gate to open. He looked over at me, and his face has somehow softened even more than it already had. “I know it’s scary. Don’t worry. It can’t hurt ya.”

“Thanks Daryl,” I said in an attempt to wrap up the conversation before we got back inside the walls. I wished there was a way to explain the gravity & the reality of them without having to actually do so. Something that would help him understand without sharing too much information.

Rosita was practically at my door already by the time I stepped out of the car.

“Hi. Long time no see,” I said, grabbing my backpack and swinging it over my shoulders.

“Hi. I, umm, wanted to see if you guys needed any help,” she offered, looking past my shoulder into the back of the car, “wow, you guys did great. That’s awesome.”

“Couldn’ta done it without the good luck charm,” Daryl said as he popped the trunk open. I restrained myself from allowing the biggest grin to spread across my face. I couldn’t deny that I loved when he called me that. A couple of the guys at the front gate started grabbing food from the trunk to take to our storage area.

“Rosita, you wanna help me get these into the infirmary, then we can talk?” I asked, gesturing to the pile of fake hands and feet, “y’know, about the concern you mentioned to me this morning?” She caught on quickly and nodded.

“Yeah, sounds good.”

It took two trips for Rosita and I to get most of the pieces into the infirmary. For now, we placed them wherever there was room, as I would be spending the rest of my day finding them a permanent home in the infirmary. Back at the car, I took the remaining food out of my backpack and gave it to one of the guys. I grabbed the last several prosthetic pieces and shoved a couple into my bag, another couple under my arm.

“Daryl, do you want our help with the rest?” Rosita asked as she grabbed the last few prosthetics from me.

“Nah, go on, do what you gotta” he said, then turned to me, “I’ll be over when I’m done.” I gave him a smile and a nod, and I led Rosita over to the infirmary. After a minute, she looked back over her shoulder, determining that we were safely out of earshot, and she could ask questions.

“Be over for what?” 

“I mentioned that I was looking forward to eating once we got back, since I didn’t eat before we left this morning, so he offered to make us food. I’m guessing that means he’d bring it over to me once it was done,” I told her. Her face lit up, and I knew this was only the beginning of the incessant questions and teasing that were to come.

“He’s making you food?” she gushed. I gave her a look that screamed for her to lower her voice.

“Shut up,” I whispered, whacking her in the arm with the back of my hand.

“What was the comment about a good luck charm?” she asked. This time, I let a big stupid grin spread across my face.

“Oh, it was a joke I made on our first run. About me being a good luck charm and that’s why we got so lucky with what we found,” I explained, “it was one of my first attempts at being flirty.”

“And he remembered it!?” I whacked her with the back of my hand again.

“Rosita please, keep your voice down,” I begged as I opened the door to the infirmary for her, “it carries.”

She all but threw the last of the prosthetics in her arms onto a counter and sat herself on an exam table, kicking her feet back and forth in excitement. I sat myself in the chair I typically utilized and wheeled over towards the table.

“You look really happy,” Rosita said, giving me a gentle kick in the knee, “tell me everything.”

I recollected the events of our run, from the moment he gave me my coffee this morning to coming back in through the walls just now, including almost every detail. I left out specifics about the things Daryl shared with me in case they were things he didn’t want others to know. Plus, it wasn’t my place to share them. I also left out the details of the conversation on our ride back here.

"And then he stopped the car, Rosita. He stopped the car!" I practically shouted, catching myself when I realized how loud my volume was. I was referencing when I was first trying to get Daryl to let me ask him questions about himself.

I was giggling like a teenage girl talking about her crush in the bathroom with one of her friends. Here I was, at my grown age of 32, blushing and kicking my feet as I told the story. I mostly stared down at the floor to conceal just how red I was. I stopped trying to contain my grins and giddiness and just let them happen.

After I finished my story, she looked at me with the biggest, jaw-drop smile I’d ever seen.

"Oh my god, Daryl’s totally into you! He has to be, he never acts like that!” she squealed. She jumped off the table briefly to give me a giant congratulatory hug. “It sounds like he was even a little bit flirty as well. You're putting stars in his eyes, girly.”

“I don’t know what’s going on with me,” I said as I leaned back in my chair, crossing my arms over my chest, “Daryl’s not my usual type. I typically go for lanky musicians covered head-to-toe in tattoos who wear makeup. Guys who know how to finger a guitar...and that’s about it.”

“Vector!” Rosita laughed, her jaw on the floor at my rather lewd joke.

“I’m serious. I’ve never been this…enamored by a man before, especially one that makes me so nervous. I don’t know what to do with myself. I’m usually very confident when it comes to approaching men I’m into. Maybe a little forward if I’m being honest. He’s easy to talk to, which makes me less nervous, but still.” I spun myself gently around in my chair, scratching my index finger on the side of my thumb.

“I mean, you said it yourself. You’re used to approaching a certain type of man, one that’s very different from Daryl. I guess keep doing exactly what you’re doing. Whatever it is seems to be working,” she said.

“I guess. But we’re still really getting to know each other. What if…what if he learns something he doesn’t like?”

She huffed at me. “Please. What is there not to like about you?”

I discreetly rubbed my rope scars under my sleeve and swallowed to keep the churning of my stomach at bay. “I don’t know, I just…I really like him. I don’t wanna fuck it up.” She reached out and placed a comforting hand on my shoulder.

“You’ll be fine. Just take it slow, and…let whatever happens happen. I have a good feeling about this.”

“Promise me you won’t talk to anyone else about it unless you’re indoors. Carol now knows because she overheard Maggie and Glenn talking about it last week,” I said, and she chuckled a little. “I still need to talk to them about that. Tell ‘em to square up.”

“I won’t, I promise. I can tell Maggie to come by, if you want. I’ll tell her to square up,” Rosita offered, eliciting a giggle from me.

“That’d be great. Thank you.” I grimaced as I looked around at the prosthetics that were now strung out everywhere. "Wanna keep me company while I deal with this? Probably gonna be in here a while.” She sighed as she hopped up off the exam table.

“I should get back to the garden. Plus, your man should be here anytime now. Maybe he can keep you company,” she teased, winking at me. I rolled my eyes so hard, I could see my brain.

“Shut up,” I laughed as Rosita made her way to the door, “oh and don’t tell Aaron about any of this. It’s a surprise for when he’s healed.”

I spent the next hour or so sat on the floor, sorting the limbs into different piles and measured them to figure out their different sizes as best I could. I used sticky notes to label them accordingly. Rosita’s words kept playing over and over in my head as I worked.

Daryl’s totally into you! He has to be, he never acts like that! It sounds like he was even a little bit flirty as well. You're putting stars in his eyes, girly. You’ll be fine. Just take it slow, and…let whatever happens happen. I have a good feeling about this.

I didn’t know what scared me more—the possibility that he could not be interested in me and I’m just reading into everything too much, or the possibility that he is interested in me. Because if he was, there would be things he would have to learn. Things I intended to take to my grave. Things that very well could scare him away.

A knock and then opening of the infirmary door sucked me out of my spiraling thoughts. I looked up over an exam table to see Daryl, carrying a plate with steam coming off of it and some silverware. I couldn’t see it, but whatever it was smelled incredible. Though at this point, I was so hungry that just about anything sounded incredible.

“Hey, be careful, there’s body parts everywhere,” I called out. I pushed one of the piles near me out of the way to clear a path for him.

“Sorry it took so long. Took a while to find a pasta that wasn’t spaghetti,” he said. He squatted down next to me and handed me the warm plate and silverware. “Didn’t wanna make ya sick.” The plate was piled with penne pasta, tomato sauce, and some kind of meat, which I guessed was likely venison. The fact that he went out of his way to find a different pasta shape for me was heartwarming. I could feel myself blushing, just a teeny tiny bit, hopefully so teeny tiny that it wasn’t noticeable to him.

“Do not apologize. The fact that you did this is more than enough. Thank you.” I reached up and set the plate on the exam table and leaned back against the wall. “Do you wanna keep me company while I sort through all this?” I asked, gesturing to the piles of fake limbs scattered across the floor.

“Got watch or I’d say yes” he said, “take a rain check?”

“Yeah. Definitely.” I gave him a warm smile as he rose to his feet and started to leave. I got up into my chair so I could take a break to eat. “Hey Daryl?” He turned back to me, his crossbow swaying against his back and tapping the door. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“No, not just…not just for this.”

“For what?”

“For letting me get to know you a bit…listening to me yap on…for caring,” I said, looking up to meet his eyes. Even though he was several feet away, and strands of his gorgeous chocolate hair hung in his face, I could feel that our eyes were locked, and I gave him another warm smile. “You’re a good man.”

“Ya ain’t so bad yourself, sunshine,” Daryl said. I felt my knees give out when he called me sunshine. If I wasn’t sitting, I would’ve crumbled to the floor. I could listen to him call me that all day.

“See you tonight,” I said, and with a nod, he was out the door. I heard him say something to someone, and then in came Maggie. As the door closed behind Daryl, she gave me a look that was begging for more information, probably both about why she was being summoned to see me and what Daryl was doing in here.

“What’s going on in here? Also Rosita said you wanted to “square up?”” she said. I laughed and pointed to the chair opposite me.

“Sit. You and I need to have a chat.”

Taglist: @raddydaddydude

Finding Myself, Finding You: Chapter Fifteen

Masterlist

AO3 link

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist <3 (18+ only, MDNI)

Story is 18+ for mature content/themes, minors do not interact please

TW/CWs for this story--implied/referenced past rape, canonical violence, non-canonical violence, blood, gore, referenced past suicide, swearing, surgery, excessive drinking, nightmares, panic attacks, mention of scars, vomiting, amputation, medical procedures, non-con medical procedures, referenced past medical torture, referenced past drugging, attempted sexual assault, panic attacks, mental health struggles, referenced sibling death, referenced parent death

Each chapter will have its own TW/CWs listed

This story, Lydia Vector, her family & bestie (c) me, TheVeganDarkElf

TWD & its characters (c) AMC & Robert Kirkman, the writer of the comic series

TW/CWs for this chapter--swearing, discussion of past suicide, discussion of parent death (suicide, house fire), mention of scars (Daryl's), medical procedure (stitches), blood, allusion to child abuse (Daryl's), men being creepy, reference to sibling death, we got some big emotions in this one

Word count: 3.3k

Daryl and I began to get much closer after that second run. Eating dinner together became sort of a ritual of ours, other than the nights Daryl had duty in the watchtower. At first, it was him in the chair and me on the far end of the couch as I didn’t want to spook him. He never explicitly said it, but I got the vibe that he wasn’t big on physical touch. He always maintained at least a few feet distance between us, never getting too close. Eventually, I tested the waters and sat on the end of the couch closer to him, and that’d been our dinner arrangement ever since. Over the next few weeks, Rick had us go out on more runs. It was strange to me that I always heard about them from Daryl and never from Rick. I didn’t want to do anything that could get me in trouble, like leaving the sanctity of the walls when I wasn’t supposed to, but I was simply following instructions that I was told came from our fearless cowboy leader.

I joined Daryl once when he was working on his bike, and he showed me some stuff about it. Though he was so beautiful that day, I’ll admit, it was hard for me to keep focus. He was wearing one of his classic button-ups with the sleeves cut off, that angel-wing vest he loved so much, and a pair of ripped jeans that hugged his body just right. It was warm, so he was sweating buckets. I was practically drooling as I watched his arm muscles flex and relax as he worked. The way he glistened with sweat, the little hints of joy I heard in his voice as he talked to me about his motorcycle, his gorgeous accent…he was mesmerizing.

He still came and checked on me every night after I fell out of bed, another ritual of ours I suppose. It had evolved to a point where I would stay lying on the floor and give a thumbs up over the side of the bed when I heard the door open, then he’d leave. We’d sometimes spend mornings together, but usually one of us was always up and out before the other was awake, or if Daryl had overnight watch, he’d be just going to sleep when I got up. Typically, the one who got up first made coffee and left the rest out for the other. Sometimes, if he was coming back from an overnight watch, I’d wake up and go downstairs to find the pot just finishing up brewing.

It was obvious one of Daryl’s love languages was acts of service. He didn’t so much have a way with words, but damn he was good at showing how much he cared. Not just towards me, but the way he cared about the whole of Alexandria. He was always volunteering to go on watch, runs, hunts, you name it. He cared so much about the people here and would do whatever he needed to do to make sure we were all safe and protected. And that only made me fall for him even harder.

Though he typically wasn’t one for expressing his emotions with words, there was one morning when he left me a note. I came downstairs, and he was already out as he had gate duty all day. He had poured me coffee in a white mug with daisies on it that I once casually mentioned was my favorite mug of the ones in the cabinet, and there was a short but sweet note with it.

Have the best day

See you at dinner

I kept the note folded up in the back of my notebook where I kept some photos and a note from my brother.

Today, Daryl was teaching me how to hunt. Well, it was the start of that process. First, there was target practice. And I was getting to pick up and shoot that infamous crossbow.

Daryl had carved an X for a target on a tree, and my goal was to hit as dead center as I could. I knelt on one knee behind a fallen tree, which I was instructed to use to steady the crossbow and practice that way first. I could throw a knife over my shoulder and hit a walker square in the forehead. How hard could a crossbow be?

“Does this thing have recoil?” I asked as he handed it to me, “wow, it’s lighter than I thought it’d be.” I flipped the bow around and examined it, running my fingers over its smooth surface but was careful to make sure I didn’t touch anything that looked like a lever or a button. Didn’t wanna go causing any accidents right out the gate.

“Hardly any,” Daryl said, kneeling next to me. We were almost shoulder-to-shoulder. This was the closest we’d ever been, and I could feel the butterflies in my stomach breaking free and trying to crawl their way up my throat.

“You ever kill anyone with this thing?” I asked.

“Yeah. Sometimes, people are more dangerous than them walkers,” he explained, and I nodded. I was all too familiar with the dangers of other human beings during the end of the world.

“I know what you mean,” I replied. I rested the bow on the fallen tree and kept my gaze on the X carved into the tree in front of me. “I’ve never killed anyone. I don’t know if I could. It goes against the oath I took.”

"Hate to burst your bubble, but that don't matter no more."

“I guess not,” I shrugged, “but enough of that, let’s get to practicing.”

“‘lax your shoulders,” he said, gently placing his hands on both of my shoulders and lightly pressing to help me relax them. This was the first time he’d touched me on purpose. My stomach dropped like I was on a rollercoaster. “Geez, you’re tense woman.”

I wouldn’t be so tense if you didn’t make me so nervous, I thought. I propped the crossbow up onto my shoulder like I’d seen Daryl do a thousand times.

“It’s no good if ya don’t load it,” he said. He picked a bolt off of the front of it and reached around me to load it. His arm rested against my back as he strapped the bolt in. It was like he was testing the boundaries of physical closeness, though I didn’t know whether it was mine or his that he was testing. But I didn’t mind one bit. I steadied the bow on my shoulder and the fallen tree, aiming it at my target.

“Ya really gotta relax,” Daryl said, “can’t have this gettin’ in the way neither.” He took the end of my ponytail and draped my hair over my opposite shoulder, “damn, ya hair’s real soft.” I felt myself melting into a puddle, and my hands started to shake a bit as my heart rate picked up.

“Thank you. I grew it all by myself,” I laughed.

“How long'd it take ya to grow it out?”

“Oh God, I think the last time I got a drastic haircut was when I was like 13,”  I explained, “sometimes I think about chopping it all off because it gets in my way so much. And it feels like it weighs 20 pounds when it’s wet.”

“Ya should keep it long. Looks good.” I smiled and looked down at the ground, trying to hide that I was obviously turning red.

“Thanks,” I said. I took a deep breath and tried to steady myself again.

“Hey, you’re shakin’,” Daryl said, placing a hand on my shoulder in an effort to help me relax, “just take a breath. You’re good.” His voice was soft, soothing, and calming. Still laced with his gravely accent, but there was genuine caring and compassion behind his words.

“Nervous jitters I guess,” I said, taking another deep breath in through my nose. I lied straight through my teeth.

“Alright, look through the scope and aim it at the target,” he said. He kept his hand on my shoulder.

“Looks easy enough,” I said, perhaps a little too confidently as I did as he instructed.

“Once ya got it lined up, ya just pull the lever on the bottom,” Daryl explained, “helps if ya breathe out when ya do it.” I took a deep breath and fired, exhaling like he told me to. The bolt went flying right past the tree, not even grazing it. It landed far off in the grass somewhere I couldn’t see.

“I stand corrected on it looking easy,” I said, feeling horrifically embarrassed, “I missed the tree completely. How did I even do that?”

“It happens. Gotta get used to holdin’ it still. C’mon, I’ll show ya how to load it.” He gestured for me to hand his bow to him.

“At this point, I’ll just be happy to hit the tree at all,” I said, giggling a little to try to make myself feel better.

That’s how we spent the next couple of hours. Me attempting to hit the tree, somehow missing it completely or just grazing it, which was starting to feel like a win, and trying to find the bolts in the grass. He never seemed to get impatient or frustrated with me, even when I was starting to get frustrated with myself. He reassured me, helped me set up and reload, and tried to help me feel more confident.

After what felt like an eternity, I finally did it. I hit the very outskirts of the giant X target, but I hit it nonetheless. I about jumped into the air with how excited I was.

“Oh my God, I did it!” I cheered, nearly dropping the crossbow to the ground in surprise. A gigantic grin spread across my face as I looked at Daryl. “I did it!”

“Knew ya could do it,” he congratulated. He had reached out and was stroking the back of my arm with his fingers. His touch was so light, it felt like being tickled with a feather. I could feel goosebumps forming, but thankfully, my sleeve hid them. “Think that’s the first time I seen ya do that too.”

I looked at him with a puzzled expression. “Seen me do what?”

“Smile like that.” It occurred to me that he was referring to the fact that I was smiling with my teeth out. And he was right—this was the first time I’d smiled like that in months.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

That evening, I found myself working late in the infirmary. A couple of the kids had gotten into a fight, and while their injuries weren’t too bad, they still required attention. A couple of scraped knees and small cuts later, I was supposed to be going home for the evening, but as I was getting ready to leave, the infirmary door swung open one last time, and in came Daryl. He’d been covering gate duty for a couple of hours, and I figured he must’ve seen the infirmary light on and came to check on me.

“Hey, there’s my little Georgia peach,” I said, giving him a big smile. He looked at me with a solemn face, which concerned me a little. “Daryl…are you ok?” He didn’t say anything at first. He simply kept eye contact with me as he stepped closer.

“I, uh, need your help with somethin’,” he said. He took his bow off of his back and turned around. There was a sizable gash across his mid-back, his clothes stained with dried blood.

“Jesus, get your ass up here,” I ordered, gesturing to the exam table. I started grabbing things like gloves and antiseptic. “What the hell happened?”

“Couple of ‘em pricks was talkin’ ‘bout ya,” he said as he sat down on the table and scooted back to the edge. I froze and swallowed hard. I hadn’t really gotten to know any of the men who typically had gate duty, and the only times I saw them were when I was coming and going through the gate, and I was always with Daryl.

“You got this defending me? Jesus, I’m so sorry. I feel awful.” I continued grabbing everything I would need, like cotton pads, medical tape, tools for stitches, and antibiotics.

“Nah, jackasses had it comin’.”

“What did you do to them?”

“Roughed ‘em up a bit. Let ‘em know not to say nothin’ like that ‘gain,” Daryl explained.

“Do I wanna know what they were saying about me?”

“Probably not. Bein’ a buncha creeps.” The never-ending list of things they could’ve been saying swirled through my mind, and I felt sick. I suppressed the nausea that quickly made its home in my stomach.

“Great. Just when I was starting to feel safe here,” I sighed. I thought I’d finally found a place away from the prying eyes of creepy men, but unfortunately, I was wrong.

Daryl looked back over his shoulder at me with kind eyes. “Don’t worry. I won’t let ‘em give ya any trouble.” I gave him a smile and a nod.

“Alright, I need you to take your shirt off. Then I’m gonna clean it and stitch it up. I’ll talk you through each step so you know what to expect since you can’t see it,” I explained. I slipped my gloves on after washing my hands thoroughly and scooted a stool over with my foot so I would sit higher up. Daryl fidgeted a little on the table, and he seemed nervous. I could tell he was in pain from his injury, but something else seemed to be bothering him.

“If you’re not comfortable taking your shirt off, that’s ok. I just need you to lift it enough so I can work,” I said, “don’t wanna go stitching your shirt to your back.” To my surprise, he lifted his shirt up and off over his head, letting it slide down his arms into his lap.

When he did, I understood why I’d never seen Daryl shirtless before.

There were scars all across his back. Not the kind of scars you’d get from being in a motorcycle or car accident, or burn scars, or from taking a really bad tumble as a kid. No, these scars were intentionally inflicted by another person. My heart shattered, but I kept my composure.

How could someone do something so awful to someone so good?

I made sure to utilize my calming bedside manner voice. “There is nothing to be embarrassed about. I have seen anything you can possibly imagine. Plus, I have scars of my own. I know better than to ask about anyone else's."

I grabbed a cloth soaked with some warm water so I could clean up some of the dried blood, and I gently started rubbing it on his back. “I’m gonna try to get as much of this dried blood off as I can.” He tensed a little bit under my touch, so I tried my best to be even lighter, but I could only press so lightly while still getting the blood off. I decided to clean just enough around the wound to make the process quicker, and he could take care of the rest when he showered.

“Alright, I have to clean it now so it won’t get infected. I won’t lie, this is going to sting a little. But I’m just taking a cotton pad with some antiseptic and patting around it,” I explained. I started patting his wound with the cotton pad, and he flinched just a tiny bit. I placed my other hand on his arm and stroked it gently with my thumb. “Hey, you’re ok. You’re doing great.” As I stroked his arm, I felt him start to relax.

My heart was breaking for him. The sensation of the antiseptic in his open wound must’ve felt similar to whatever created the scars on his back. I tried to think of something to talk about to distract him.

“I like your tattoo, Daryl,” I said, “does it mean anything?”

“Jus’ thought it looked cool,” he replied.

“I actually have a few tattoos of my own,” I told him, “I know, there’s something you didn’t know about me. I have a sternum piece with flowers on it, bumblebees on the back of each of my thighs, and a bouquet of daisies on the front of my right hip. I liked the idea of having tattoos that only certain people get to see. People that I get to choose." I hoped that, maybe one day, I’d get to show Daryl my tattoos. I set the cotton pad on the table next to him. “I’m done cleaning it now. Could you straighten up for me? I’m gonna stitch it up now. It’ll probably hurt a little, but it won’t burn like the antiseptic did.”

"They mean anythin'?" he asked as he sat up straight.

"I really like sternum pieces, so that's why I got that one. Daisies are my favorite flower, and the bumblebees are for my mom.” I got to work stitching him up as I talked. “Gardening was her favorite hobby, and we had a huge one in our backyard growing up. She taught my brothers and I about the different kinds of pollinators and how important they were. Bumblebees were her favorite. I got them a couple of years after she passed.”

“Lost my mom too,” Daryl said. It was the first time he’d mentioned his mom in any capacity. “What happened to her? If you’re ok talkin’ ‘bout it.”

“She umm…she killed herself a couple of months after Preston died. Hung herself in his closet. My dad was the one that found her.” I blinked back some tears. Stitching up someone’s wound was not the time to be crying. “Her mental health really declined after his passing. I mean, all of ours did, but hers was the worst. She couldn't stand losing one of her children, so she left the other three behind. At least that's what it felt like. The anger stage of my grief lasted a very, very long time.”

There was a heaviness that hung in the air as I finished stitching his wound. It felt suffocating, like it was a heavy weight pressing on my chest. I lowered the volume of my voice a little to keep myself from crying. “Alright, I’ve just gotta wrap it up and you’re done.”

“Mine was a house fire,” he started to explain, and as he talked, I continued wrapping his wound, using as gentle of a touch as I could and offering small comforting pats and strokes in between. I felt his muscles continue to relax into my hands as I worked. “I was a kid. Ran home after we saw fire trucks comin’ down the street. Finally caught up to the other kids and saw it was my house. Mom was inside. Some combo of her wine ’n smokes. Didn’t feel real for a long time.” Before I finished patching him up, I ran my hands over the back of his arms and offered small squeezes, like tiny hugs from my fingers. This was by far the most vulnerable he’d been around me, and I wanted to make sure he felt safe, seen, and comforted.

“I’m so sorry Daryl. You didn’t deserve for that to happen.”

"Didn’t deserve yours neither.” I ran my fingers over and flattened out the last piece of medical tape.

“There we go, you’re all patched up now,” I said, grabbing a small bottle of antibiotics and handing it to him. “you’ll have to change the dressing every day. I can help you with that. And you’ll have to take those for like a week. Make sure you stay on top of that.”

“Do I gotta? Didn’t think it was that bad,” he said, flipping the little orange bottle around in his hand.

I sat myself up on the exam table next to him, “Daryl, what kind of doctor would I be if I let you get an infection?”

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