C H A P T E R  0 7

❛ salt and sand ❜

DARYL

     THE GUNSHOT STILL ECHOED THROUGH HIS HEAD. Even days later, sitting bruised and broken in the darkness, he could still hear it as clearly as if the gun was being fired right next to his ear. And the blood...the crimson liquid forming a sea around her while she slowly drowned. Every time he closed his eyes it was all he could see. Until he couldn't even pick the memories of the courtyard and the forest apart...

He was starting to wonder if he was going insane. It certainly didn't help that he was locked in a small, dark broom closet or that the same fucking song was playing over and over again. But he'd be damned before he'd give in. He wouldn't give that son of a bitch the satisfaction of watching him crumble and fall. That asshole didn't need to know that his mind was already being torn to pieces.

He'd tried to think about anything else but Quinn bleeding out right in front of him, or Glenn being murdered because of his own fucking reckless behavior. He'd tried to focus on revenge, on getting out of here and killing every single one of them. But every time his thoughts went right back to his mistakes, haunting him like ghosts.

If only he wasn't such a damn idiot. Then maybe Glenn would be alive right now and Quinn wouldn't have been shot...

He should've felt relieved that she'd managed to escape but the fact that she was both mortally wounded and with her father did little to calm him down. In fact, it only fueled his burning desire to get the hell out of this place. The only way he could start to put this all right was by getting out of here. But so far all of his attempts had been hopeless.

He'd been beaten bloody as punishment for trying to escape. Though the only thought going through his brain while fists kept on landing upon his skin was: at least she got away. Negan must've realised his smugness about managing to get her out because soon he'd ordered for him to be put back in his hole.

The second beating was a lot worse because this time there was nothing to be smug about. He thought freedom was near when the one they called Fat Joey had "forgotten" to lock the door. Of course he should've known better. It was all a damn test. And now every bone in his body ached. He could barely move without feeling like he would stumble and fall. But he was used to physical pain. He could handle pain.

It was the feeling of his heart being torn from his chest that paralysed him.

He'd never meant for it to come this far. But he let himself be swept away by the current and now he was hopelessly and completely lost. Because Daryl Dixon had never loved anyone like he loved Quinn Morales. He'd been fighting most of his life, just him with balled fists against the world. But from the moment she'd kissed him besides the burning lake, he knew what peace felt like. The quiet calm of knowing you were home, safe and sound.

But why should he be allowed to still feel that comforting warmth in his heart, when he'd taken that away from Maggie?

He had no answers, only a burning anger for all the world, including himself.

Footsteps pulled him from the haze of his thoughts. They halted in front of his door and immediately his entire body tensed, ready for the fight. Keys jangled and the door was pulled open, bright fluorescent light blinding him. He got to his feet, keeping his eyes on the ground as always. Not because he was submitting but because when he looked at his tormentor, he knew for sure he wouldn't be able to contain his rage. His dreams were filled with images of his hands around Dwight's neck, watching the life disappear from his eyes. But they were only dreams. Reality was much crueler.

'Walk," Dwight snarled, as he grabbed his shirt and pushed him forward.

They made their way through the hallways which Daryl had burned into his memory by now. Every time he was taken out of his cell, he'd been careful to take note of every single detail in his surroundings. He knew exactly which hallway to take to get the hell outta here, but couldn't do so with Dwight pointing his own crossbow at his back.

Finally Dwight stopped in front of a red door. He pushed it open, revealing a luxurious room that reminded him of his bedroom he shared with Quinn back in Alexandria. For one blinding painful second he couldn't move but then his eyes landed on Negan, seated in the corner. Seeing the man snapped him out of his thoughts immediately, the sight of him so jarring in the peaceful memories roaming his mind that he felt a shiver crawl down his spine.

"Step in," Dwight ordered, pushing him forwards.

A grin spread on Negan's face as he watched a dirty and bruised Daryl standing in front of him. What Daryl wouldn't give to smash that grin to pieces.

"Jesus," Negan spoke as he got to his feet and walked up to Daryl. "You look fucking gross. Don't you worry. We'll have Carson fix you all up. You thirsty? Here." He handed the glass he'd been holding to him and Daryl took it, knowing better than to resist by now. "Ah, hell, I forgot. Your mouth is all puffed up like a baboon's ass. Need a straw?" Without waiting for an answer, Daryl knew by now he didn't expect answers, Negan gestured to Dwight. "D, give him a straw. What's wrong with you?"

Dwight walked towards one of the cabinets and took out a straw. Then walked back and put it in Daryl's glass.

"See that guy?" Negan said, his eyes following Dwight's every move. "He hustles. I like hustle. Now, I told you and my little tempest how it was going to be. The two of you hustling for me."

It felt as though he'd been struck by lightning upon hearing that one little word. My. He kept staring at the ground, almost expecting holes to burn into the floor from the fire spitting from his eyes. He would choose a beating any day over hearing this son of a bitch refer to Quinn as his. It took him all his willpower not to lash out and break the fuckers jaw.

Negan's grin only widened, as if he knew exactly what Daryl had been thinking. "But then she went and decided to play the most uncool game of hide and seek ever. Now, I needed some time to think things through while I set my guys out to find her. And what do you know? She has disappeared into thin air. Not so much as a trace." He leaned closer all the muscles in Daryl's body tensed. He never liked people getting into his personal space, but this asshole did it on purpose. The whole body language was as familiar as the ghost of his father haunting him in his sleep. It all screamed abusive asshole.

He despised how this all made him feel like that helpless little boy he used to be.

"But you know what? I think you can find her," Negan went on, grinning slyly. "Let me rephrase that: I know you know where to find her. So here's what we're gonna do. This?" He gestured around the room with that stupid bat of his. "This can all be yours and once it is, you can find little miss tempest and bring her back, make sure that gunshot didn't kill her after all. All you gotta do is answer one simple question."

Negan let a dramatic silence fall but it was useless, Daryl knew exactly what his question would be and he knew exactly what he was going to answer.

"Who are you?"

He let the silence drag on, his eyes remaining focused on the ground. He wasn't going to play this game, not now, not ever.

"What, cat got your tongue?" Negan chuckled. "You overwhelmed by the sheer fucking awesomeness of this? I'm gonna ask you one more time." He took another step closer, all but pushing that fucking bat in his face. "Who are you?"

Finally he lifted his gaze, gathering all the anger that had been building up inside of him over the last few days. And through the wildfire of rage, one voice stood out as clear as a blue sky. His promise to Quinn, right before he let her go. You're mine and I'm yours. Don't let him tell you otherwise. And that was the last push he needed to get the word over his lips.

"Daryl."

He hadn't exactly known what would happen, but he certainly hadn't expected Dwight to speak up. "This is only-" he started, but never got to finish because Negan cut him off.

All his earlier amusement had disappeared from his face. His dark eyes were filled with a menacing anger. It was the exact same look he'd worn when Rick had threatened to kill him. His authority was being questioned, his illusion of holding their life in his hands crushed.

It would have been reasonable to feel scared but all Daryl could feel was a satisfied glee pulsing through his veins.

"It's cool, D," Negan continued while, slowly, another grin broke out on his face. "He made his choice. Ain't my problem if he made a dumbass choice." Finally he stepped away and Daryl felt a relieved rush of air fill his lungs. "Get him back in his hole."

Dwight did as he was told, taking a hold of Daryl's clothes and all but pushing him forward. He could've struck him for all Daryl cared, at least he hadn't turned himself into another mindless slave.

He was roughly pushed back into the dirty corner of the broom closet. He barely managed to stay standing, his entire body was trembling from the lack of decent food and sunlight. Slowly he slid to the ground, dropping down in the corner, expecting Dwight to close the door again and leave him alone with his regrets.

But Dwight remained standing in the door opening.

"You're gonna wind up in that room or hanging on the fence!" he shouted.

Daryl simply stared at him, his little tirade leaving him completely unbothered. He felt no need to solve this guy's identity crisis by pretending he was just as weak and pathetic as him.

Dwight turned away, about to close the door when Daryl spoke up. "I get why you did it." Damn his throat felt like fucking sandpaper. "Why you took it." It wasn't a lie, he did understand but he also needed Dwight to understand that he would never make the same choice. "You were thinkin' 'bout someone else."

For a moment the air seemed to clear. As both men held each other's gaze and they understood the similarity of the choices they'd been dealt. But those similarities were nothing compared to their differences.

"That's why I can't."

The moment passed. Dwight's gaze hardened and he turned away, slamming the door shut.

A shaky breath left his lips as he leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. He was still alive, he was going to get out of here and find Quinn, alive and well. But he was going to do it on his own terms: Burning down the house instead of becoming a mindless slave.

Like she would've wanted him to do.

QUINN

     SHE NEVER IMAGINED THE FIRST TIME she ever saw the ocean would be with a gunshot wound in her side and the point of a spear pressing against her back. Though, strangely enough, it didn't make the view any less immaculate. The morning sky was a deep blue, making it almost impossible to see where it ended and the sea began. The sound of waves meeting the shore worked calming on her racing mind and for a moment all she wanted was to simply stand there and breathe in the salt air.

Sadly, she wasn't given a chance to do so.

The spear pressed between her ribcage was forcing her to keep moving. She tried to walk as best as she could but her entire side ached and every time she put a step forward she could feel her stitches being pulled. Her father only walked a few steps behind her, ready to catch her if she were to fall. Though she was pretty sure she preferred falling on the ground than into his arms.

"Halt!" one of the women behind her suddenly barked.

She froze in her step and held her hands up as the woman walked around her, standing face to face. Only then did Quinn notice she was looking at her side, her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"What is it, Beatrice?" the dark-skinned girl who'd been walking ahead of them asked.

The short-haired woman, Beatrice, gestured at Quinn's side. "She's wounded." She focused her stone cold gaze on Quinn. "Are you bit?"

Quinn shook her head, the movement making her dizzy. "I was shot."

That only seemed to fuel their suspicion. They shared a look that held more meaning than Quinn was comfortable with, before motioning for them to walk on. There wasn't a bone in her body that thought about protesting and so she followed suit.

They walked in silence across the beach. Then they turned left into the forest, leaving the shore with its calming waves behind. For a moment Quinn saw nothing but trees until, after walking for a few minutes, a high wooden fence came into view. Upon spotting their arrival, a guard in a tower shouted an order and the gate was opened.

A nervous breath left her lips as she was herded inside the community. Her eyes darted around, trying to take in every detail that might somehow be able to help her. It took a few seconds to register but suddenly she realised there wasn't a single male walking around, at least not that she could see. The entire community seemed to exist out of women only. They were working on fisher nets, cleaning fishes, repairing houses, everything a community needed to survive.

It seemed the community was founded on what had once been a holiday resort. The small houses were painted in colors that matched the ocean, from the darkest green to the brightest blue. The wall they'd built surrounding it seemed strong and judging by the amount of people walking around with guns they had more than enough weapons to defend themselves. But none of that explained the strange absence of any men.

"In there," Beatrice snapped, pointing at one of the cabins on their left.

Quinn let her eyes drift over the community once again. She was being watched from all directions and she dared to say there were probably more weapons than just the spears pointed at her. These people were cautious and prepared. Finally she turned away and followed her father into the cabin.

"Sit," the third woman who'd been watching them ordered, pointing at the ground.

Bracing her hand against her wound she slowly lowered herself to the ground, biting her tongue to keep from making any noise. She refused to show weakness in front of these people. As soon as she was seated, the brown girl walked up to her with actual handcuffs. She put her waist in one and attached the other to the radiator on Quinn's right. She watched the girl closely and was curious to see her brown eyes shined with something that almost looked like guilt. But then she stood up and was gone.

Their captors left, locking the door behind them and silence engulfed the small cabin.

A sigh escaped her lips as she leaned her head back against the wall. She tried her hardest to calm her breathing and ignore the burning sting in her side. The walk from the fisher's hut to the community had completely tired her out.

"Are you doing okay?" Nick questioned from where he was sitting, cuffed to the other side of the radiator.

She scoffed. "Do you care?"

He frowned but didn't reply, not that she had expected an answer, or even really wanted one.

"Do you know these people?" she asked.

A shadow crossed his gaze and her heart froze in her chest. "I think-" he was interrupted by the door swinging open.

Their captors entered again, though this time they were joined by an elderly lady with a stern gaze. The way the others seemed to surround her, suggested to Quinn she was their leader. Slowly she settled herself on a table opposite their position on the ground. For a moment no one spoke and they simply sized each other up.

The woman didn't look like anyone special to Quinn but she knew better than to judge first appearances. If she was able to lead a community that appeared so strong, there might be more to her than first appearances might suggest.

"So, where are you from?" the woman asked.

Surprise washed over her, though she made sure her face remained carefully blank. She hadn't expected that to be her first question after the way they'd been treated so far. She didn't exactly know what to answer either. Mentioning Alexandria didn't seem like a good idea, but the best lies always held a little bit of the truth.

"We're on the run," she replied, watching their reactions carefully. The women shared a look. That same look that had passed between them when discovering her wound. They knew more than they were saying. Everytime she mentioned something that pointed to the existence of another, dangerous, group they were immediately on guard. And there was only one dangerous group around that she knew of...

"That is not what I asked," the woman persisted.

Quinn held her gaze. "Trust me you don't want an answer."

She took a controlled breath before nodding. "What are you doing here?"

Quinn gestured to her side. "I got shot, we needed some place to lay low and found the hut. Honestly we had no idea anyone lived here."

For a moment the woman simply studied her, as if trying to get a read on her. Well, she could forget it. Quinn wasn't planning on showing anything and knew her father would be equally as hard to read. The leader seemed to come to that very same conclusion because she finally ended their staring contest. "Who are you running from?"

Time to test her theory. "There is this group. They captured us, tortured us. We finally managed to escape but they chased us through the woods. We lost them by following the river. I believe they called themselves the Saviors."

She might as well have dropped a bomb.

The woman's somewhat relaxed figure went immediately rigid and their three captors shuffled nervously behind them. She'd been right, they had run-ins with Negan and his group of assholes as well. And, if she were to guess, they were probably the reason there didn't seem to be any men around either.

"What, do you know them?" Quinn asked innocently, looking around as though this wasn't exactly the reaction she'd been expecting.

The brown girl stepped forward. "We have-" "Silence," the leader barked. The girl seemed to shrink beneath the order but didn't step back, instead she seemed almost ready to cut in again.

"You say they captured you?" the leader asked. "Why?"

She'd been expecting that question. "We were just looking for food," she muttered. Once again it wasn't a complete lie. "We found a stash in an abandoned satellite station. Well, we thought it was abandoned..."

Her answer wasn't enough to kill the suspicion.

"How do we know you're not with them?" Beatrice asked. "Maybe he sent you out to find us? So we'd fall back in line!"

"Silence," the leader barked again but it was too late, Quinn had stored the information carefully in her mind. Beatrice's words seemed to suggest they were hiding from the Saviors and they had no idea where.

"Do you really think I'd let myself get shot to play pretend?" she asked, trying to keep her annoyance out of her voice and keep her innocent act up. Maybe she had learned something from Carol after all.

"How do we know you're really hiding a gunshot under there?" Beatrice shot back.

Without another word Quinn lifted her shirt and ripped the bandage off, wincing when she did. The red skin held together by makeshift stitches definitely weren't pretty to look at and she was pretty sure it would leave a huge scar. But at least she'd made her point because she didn't miss the way Beatrice winced with disgust.

She lowered her shirt and turned her eyes back to the leader. "Am I correct in assuming the Saviors have no idea you're here?"

The woman seemed to realise keeping up pretences was useless and so she nodded.

"Could we maybe stay here? Just for a few days, until I'm fit to travel again," she suggested, trying her hardest to keep any annoyance or anger out of her voice.

The leader's eyes hardened and for a moment Quinn feared she went too far but then the woman stood up and said: "Get some rest, we'll be back by morning." Then she walked to the door and stepped outside.

Beatrice and the other woman followed but the brown-haired girl halted in the door opening, turning back to look at Quinn. She opened her mouth, as if wanting to speak but at the last second she changed her mind and walked out without another word, locking the door behind her.

Silence returned in which Quinn allowed herself a second to close her eyes and lean back against the wall to catch her breath. Her body felt incredibly heavy, as though her bones had been replaced by lead. All she wanted to do was sleep but she refused to do so in a place she didn't trust.

"That was smart," Nick spoke up.

She ignored the strange compliment and changed the subject. "You were about to say something before they walked in?"

A sigh left his lips but he nodded. "When I had just joined them, a story was going around about Negan ordering the murder of all male residents of a community that was providing for him."

She felt sick and dizzy and knew this time it had nothing to do with her injury.

"Apparently they started an uprising because they were unhappy with the current arrangement," Nick finished.

A shaky breath left her lips as suddenly the forest flashed before her eyes again. Blood on the ground, the crack of a skull, salt on her lips...

"Arrangement," she chuckled bitterly.

Nick didn't reply, probably aware that if he were to say another word he was risking serious harm being done to him. She couldn't hit him, but a good, hard, kick wasn't impossible from this angle.

It wasn't hard to believe Negan had done worse than what he did to Abraham and Glenn...But something like this was simply too gruesome to wrap her head around. Ordering the murder of every men of a community...Only a true monster, a man whose soul was completely colored black would be able to do such a thing.

But then another thought crossed her mind. These women were deeply hurt and clearly very angry still, and rightly so. Alexandria and Hilltop alone wouldn't be enough to fight back against the Saviors, but with this community on their side, their numbers were already looking a lot more favourable. And judging from the heavy weaponry she'd seen outside, they were more than capable of defending themselves.

But asking for their help would mean exposing Alexandria and Quinn wasn't sure if she was ready to do so. If tomorrow they would be allowed to stay she was going to have to find some way to convince these women to go to war and she feared that meant telling the truth.

The whole truth.

A U T H O R 'S  N O T E

I'm back from my hiatus with a chapter with two pov's! I've worked really hard on this one and I'm very excited to finally share it with you guys. I knew from the very beginning of starting this fanfic that I wanted to write that scene from Daryl's pov. It's one of my favorite Daryl scenes from the entire show and I just couldn't resist putting it in here!

Also, I'm really enjoying this au I'm doing with Quinn finding Oceanside instead of Tara! Just to clear things up: in my fic Tara and Heath never went on that two week run, meaning Heath isn't missing either (still a very weird choice to me, what the hell are you doing to your poc's twd writers?). I'm really hoping you guys are loving it as well!

And one last thing before I leave you guys alone: I entered Collapsed in the Watty's! My hopes aren't very high but it's still exciting. Who knows what will happen :)

Much love,

Nelly