15. Lost

'between seas, galaxies, and moons,
I was lucky
I stepped on the same land,
and dreamed under the same stars,
as you.'

  ⤐

  Eugene stood there, trembling.

  Seventeen pairs of eyes were glued to him, some brimming with tears, some boiling with rage. Abraham took a step to him, and Zepp instinctively matched it, subtly adjusting her body between him and Eugene.

  "I'm not a scientist," he blubbered, snot beginning to trickle down his nostrils. "I don't know how to stop it. I'm not- not a scientist..."

  The only sound in the barn was of heavy panting, birds chirping in the forest, Judith's babbling. But a searing, sharp ringing was muffling even those sounds in Zeppelin's ears. Her legs trembled, even where they stood locked firmly. Daryl noticed, and stepped close enough that she could feel the heat radiating off his body. 

  Eugene mostly stared at the ground, too afraid to lift his eyes to meet the expressions they bore. It wasn't until Rosita stepped forward out of the dusty shadows, a soft sob escaping her throat, that he finally brought his gaze up.

  "You are a scientist," she insisted, shaking her head. "I've seen the things you can do."

  "I just know things."

  Everything was spinning, faster and faster. Zeppelin stumbled back, pressing herself into Daryl's sturdy frame. He didn't back away.

  "You just... you just know things?" Veronica scoffed. Her hands were clenched into tight fists at her sides. 

  "I know I'm smarter than most people, I know I'm a very good liar, and I know I needed to get to D.C."

  "Why?" Zeppelin snapped, and Eugene whipped his head to face her. "If it was all a lie, then why? Why D.C.?"

  "Because I believed that locale holds the strongest possibility for survival... and I wanted to survive." He fidgeted with his hands clasped before him, his mousy gaze darting between the group. "If I could cheat some people into taking me there, well... I just reasoned that I'd be doing them a solid, too, considering the perilous state of Houston, the state of everything."

  Zepp tore her fiery gaze away from him, watching Abraham. He stared at the ground, muttering something incoherent to himself as he slowly shook his head back and forth. His muscles were tense, and his skin had grown three shades redder even in the dim light.

  "People died..." Veronica breathed heavily, leaning into Rosita's shaking side. "Trying to get you here."

  "I'm aware of that... Stephanie, Warren, Pam, Roger, Rachel, Janice, Rex, Josiah, Dirk, and Josephine... and Bob." He looked to Sasha at the mention of Bob, but her face was already buried in Tyreese's shoulder.

  "You see, I lost my nerve as we grew closer, for I am a coward..."

  Daryl's breath tickled the hairs on the back of Zepp's neck, and she squeezed her eyes, attempting to suck that comfort she felt deep into her soul.

  "The reality of getting to our destination and disclosing the truth of the matter became some truly frightening shit. I took it upon myself to slow our roll... find time to finesse things, so that when we got there..."

  He paused his confession when Zeppelin took another step to him.

  "What did you say?" She hissed, her teeth grinding so hard she was sure they would break. 

  "I-"

  "Are you saying you purposefully delayed us? Screwed things up?"

  He simply nodded, and she curled her lip in disgust. Detour after detour after shitty detour, how many of those were because of him? She threw her hands over her head, pacing the few steps back to Daryl. He lifted his hand, as if he was going to touch her face, but then thought better of it, dropping it back to his side.

  Eugene continued, warily watching Abraham and Zepp on either side of him. "But at this moment, I fully realize that there are no longer any agreeable options. I was screwed either way." He took a shallow, shaky breath. "I also lied about T. Brooks Ellis liking my hair. I do not know T. Brooks Ellis. But I did read one of his books, and he seemed like the type of guy that wouldn't blink twice at a Tennessee Top Hat."

  Everyone was quiet, either watching Eugene, or each other. 

  "Again... I am smarter than you."

  Oh, Eugene.

  She saw Abraham's movements before they happened.

  "Now, you may wanna leave me here, and-"

  Eugene was quickly cut off by the sickening crunch of Abe's fist connecting to his nose.

  Then again.

  And again.

  Eugene tumbled to the dirt-packed ground, throwing his arms up to shield himself against the blows. The group surged forward, some screaming for him to stop as Rick and Glenn attempted to subdue the raging bull. 

  Abraham threw Glenn to the side, then shoved his thick forearm hard against Rick's chest, then twisting it forward to land another hit to Eugene's bloody lips. He gave Eugene the decency to rise to his feet, only to slam his fist against him again, effectively knocking him out cold.

  He slumped against the wall, his body limp.

  When Abraham stalked closer to him, determined to beat him to a pulp even in his unconscious state, Rosita calmly stepped between them, one hand resting on the pistol at her side. Abe glowering gaze traveled down, landing on her hand. He brought his eyes back to her, and Zeppelin thought she saw tears gathering there. 

  The chaos finally began to settle, so Maggie and Tara rushed over to Eugene, propping him up against the wall. One of them shouted for someone to find something to clean his wounds with, but they were ignored. Everyone watched Abe, who was watching Rosita.

  The two stood head to head, both of them panting heavily. Zeppelin wanted to reach out to her, wanted to stand at her side, and she inched closer, but froze when Daryl's fingers gently wrapped around her wrist. She whirled to face him, and he softly shook his head before he looked back to Abraham.

  He stumbled back, twisting to throw open the barn door and stalk out into the sunshine. He fell to his knees, his back to the group, and dropped his head into his hands. One of the strongest men she had come to know, the one who smiled in the face of death, now looked as though he was crumbling from the inside out.

⤐

  It took two men to lift Abraham from where he slumped on the ground. Daryl smirked, watching Glenn and Tyreese struggle to lift the old tank up. His hands were torn and bloody, ripped flesh from mercilessly beating Eugene. Daryl had considered stopping him, but hesitated a few moments too long, and Glenn and Rick were already attempting to rip him away. 

  He chose to watch Zeppelin instead, payed attention to the questions in her gaze, the tension in her shoulders, the trembling breaths she forced herself to take.

  Eugene's lies had stabbed a fresh wound into the fabric of the group. Veronica consoled a hysteric version of Rosita that Daryl hadn't seen before, a sharp line of worry slashed between Carol's light brows as she paced back and forth, Rick rubbed a hand down his worn out expression as Michonne laid out a sturdy plan of action.

  Daryl didn't care.

  The only face he searched for was hers.

  Zeppelin was just outside the barn door against the boulder they relaxed at before, away from the rest of the group. A ray of sunlight washed around her, soaking her in the golden light like an angel's halo. Daryl moved silently enough that anyone else would've been surprised at his presence, but she knew he was there.

  They were always aware of each other.

  Some times painfully so.

  He said nothing, just sat down in the dirt next to her. Her eyes were closed, her face tilted towards the sun. She breathed slow and deep, then suddenly exhaling loudly enough to make him jump before she turned to him.

  "So what the fuck do we do now?"

  Daryl couldn't help but smile, just a tiny tweak in his lips, before he brought back the harder expression.

  "I guess this town or whatever is our best bet," he grunted, fiddling with a loose string on the edge of his pants. "For the kids."

  "What if we get there..." she breathed, picking at the skin of her thumb. "And it's not what he says. What if.. it's another trap?"

  He was surprised at her doubts. Normally so strong in the group, ready to take on whatever Rick threw her way, she seemed so soft now, almost fragile.

  He wanted to pull her close and tell her everything would work out, that he would protect her in any situation, that she was the strongest woman he had ever met so she probably wouldn't need his protection anyway.

  But he would give it.

  He would take a bullet, take on a herd, hell, he'd cut off his own finger and give it to her if she asked that of him.

  He wanted to tell her all these things, he couldn't.

  So he didn't. He simply grunted, shifting against the rock to nudge her thigh with his own, the brief contact warming his insides.

  "Then we'll handle it," he managed to murmur. "Always."

  She cracked a small smirk, releasing the tension in her shoulders, and slouched a bit closer to him.

  "Always."

⤐

  It wasn't that she didn't have faith in Rick and what he planned to do. Follow Aaron, check the cars, check the surroundings, find the town.

  It wasn't that she didn't believe they were strong enough as a group. Each of them has gone through loss, and pushed through to be the person they are now. They've all had kills, they all put their strengths to use in the group.

  It wasn't even that she was angry with Eugene. His strength is his brain, and he used it to create a path for himself to stay safe. For that, she could move past his lies.

  It was this gnawing feeling rooted deep in her belly.

  Alexandria could be one of two things. A trap, a con to bring people in, not safe. On the opposite side, if it was everything the stranger said it would be, then it was safe.

  And safe in this world always has a way of turning on you.

  As she bounced baby Judith in her arms, she was surprised to feel a sense of gratefulness. The applesauce Aaron brought was a ring buoy in an ocean with no land in sight. She hadn't dared let herself think of what would happen if they reached a point where they were no longer able to feed her, but the thought had started to creep it's way in the past few days, laying it's webs in the far corners of her mind. 

  She passed the bundle of joy back to Tyreese before wandering over to Veronica and Rosita, who was mindlessly organizing her backpack on the ground. Eugene's news had hit Rosita hard, the faces of all the ones they lost along the way barreling through her mind. She hadn't spoken a word to anyone but Veronica since he blurted out the truth.

  "You guys almost set?" Zepp huffed. The move had her feeling on edge and she knew her tone came off more aggressive than she meant to be. Veronica shot her a dirty look, sipping the last of her water bottle before sliding it back in the pack.

  "Yes ma'am," she smirked, and it was something almost like joking, but dangerously on the edge of pissed.

  Zepp felt her face flush, embarrassment tingling her cheeks. She offered a hand down to Rosita, pulling her up with a firm grasp.

  "Hey," she whispered. "This could be a good thing. But we've gotta give it a shot." She almost didn't believe the words herself, but she knew Rosita was looking for something to hold on to. Though she was tough, she was softer than she wanted others to know, and she needed some kind of tether to a better world.

  Rosita only nodded, slipping her bag over her shoulder and clearing her throat.

  "Let's do it."

  They followed Aaron a few miles down the highway, though Rick never once released the grip he had on the back of his shirt. Just as he had said there would be, a rusted old El Camino and a large RV waited for them. Rick whistled, and Zeppelin, Daryl, and Michonne followed. 

  "I think we should take the car, stick that fucker in the RV where we can throw him in the bathroom and lock the door." He ripped open the driver's side door, checking as if something he couldn't see through the window would suddenly pop up.

  "You still don't trust him?" Michonne scoffed, her jaw set tight.

  "Never trust anyone," Daryl countered. 

  Rick ignored them both, circling the car.

  "When you said that we're going, was that for real?" Michonne's tone was quiet, only enough volume for their small group to hear as the others searched the RV. "Or are you just trying to get to this guy to tell you where their camp is?"

  Rick paused his circling, striding close to her as he rest his hand on the roof of the car.

  "We're going."

  "Whatever it takes to get there," Zeppelin agreed, watching Tyreese swing Judith back and forth.

  "Just as long as we get there?" Michonne hadn't torn her gaze from Rick for a second.

  He watched her for a silent moment before he dropped his arm and shifted closer. Zeppelin narrowed her eyes at the distance between them, sensing something.. more. She looked to Daryl, and realized they stood just as close, if not closer. She immediately cursed herself for assuming anything more, and forced her attention back to the others.

  "When you first came up on the walls outside of Woodbury, what did you hear?"

  Woodbury. Daryl told her a bit about the town they feuded with while living at the prison, and the asshole who called himself the Governor. 

  "Nothing," Michonne squeezed her eyes shut.

  "And Terminus?" He looked to Zeppelin now.

  "Nothing..." she breathed.

 "Sometime tonight, we'll be outside his camp's walls. And without seeing inside, I'm going to have to decide whether or not bring my family in... He asked me before what it would take for me to believe it was real. Truth is..." His lip trembled, and he sniffed to hide it. "I'm not sure if anything could convince me to go in there. But I'm gonna see."

  They would try, and take it one step at a time. As they'd always done.

⤐

  Run.

  Daryl. Where's Daryl?

  Run.

  Judith.

  Did Tyreese still have Judith? Where's Tyreese?

  Run.

  Daryl.

  Run.

  Carl.

  Carl scrambling next to me, shoving away the walkers too close to my path, good job, kid.
 
  Run.

  Daryl. 

  He had been in the backseat with her on their way to Alexandria, Zeppelin squished tight in between him and Carl. Daryl was close, so close. Every bump in the road brought their skin closer together, and each time her neck and cheeks flushed red hot. She could think of only him, of how he felt against her own body, and then..

  Then the herd blocked their way.

  Rick had turned his head, just for a moment, but even the smallest increment of time can be detrimental. He was suddenly slamming on the brakes, the tires squealing as they ran into body after body after body. Blood and guts covered the windshield, setting an eery red glow around them. 

  "Rick!" Zeppelin had shrieked from her seat behind him, her hands gripping the headrest in front of her.

  "The RV was right behind us!" He continued to plow into the corpses. "Now they can get out." 

  He finally came to a screeching halt, the walkers slowly following them, and stuck his head out of the window to search for their other vehicle. "I don't see them, they must have gotten away. Let's circle back for 'em."

  Rick threw the car into drive and slammed on the gas, and the sickening sound of tires stuck in mud filled their ears. In a flash, they did the only thing they knew to do.

  Run.

  Daryl came out behind her, shoving her into the woods as their small group fought to stay standing.

  "Go, damn it!"

  "I'm not leaving you behind," she screamed back. Her pistol in one hand and knife in the other, she sliced through the corpses beginning to surround them.

  Carl fired a few shots before the unmistakable click of an empty barrel rattled her ears. She whirled to face him, her breath tight in her lungs, and a rare moment of fear trickled into his large blue eyes.

  Daryl's grip on her arm was painful and sudden, enough to shock her into twisting her knife towards him before she froze. His eyes.. there was pure anguish there.

  "Run. Now," he pleaded. With a final, hard shove to her shoulders, he turned his back to her, kicking the walker headed towards him.

  Rick and Michonne had already gone, swallowed by the herd or headed into the trees, she didn't know.

  Her only thought now had to be Carl.

  She snatched him by his shirt, tugging him away from the horde.

  They sprinted, faster and faster, mowing down the few walkers in their path.

  Once she was sure they had gone a mile, Zepp finally slowed her pace, blowing a soft whistle to Carl to follow her. An old oak tree had fallen in a storm, landing diagonally across two others, and the collapsed wood created a burrow underneath, the whole space surrounded by weeds and vines.

  She grabbed the young boy firmly by the shoulders. "I need you stay here, and stay quiet." He opened his mouth to dispute, the look on her face quickly silencing him.

  "I know every instinct you have right now is telling you to fight. And they're going to tell you to follow me. But I'm telling you, you need to stay here. I have to go back for him."

  She opened his palm, gingerly placing her knife in his hand.

  "What if you run out of ammo?" He whispered, tears now threatening to overflow.

  "I'll be alright, kid," she huffed, running a hand over his cheeks quickly. "Always am."

  He crawled backwards into the safe spot, clinging to her knife with so much force, his knuckles were white as snow.

  Taking a deep breath to clear her thoughts, she dashed back the way they came, following their trail of destroyed brush and plants.

  Those pesky thoughts were there anyway.

  Daryl. Did he make it out?

  Was he headed this way or did he have to go around?

  What if he didn't make it out? What if when I get there, he's one of them?

  Or worse.

  What if he's nothing but blood and guts on the ground, a feast for the starving dead?

  Everything was becoming too much for her, filling her brain with images of Daryl's face slathered in blood, of walkers yanking the intestines from his stomach like spools of yarn.

  She picked up her pace, focusing instead on her increasing heart rate and shuddering breath.

  Without realizing how far she had already gone, she skidded to a stop, and could hear the walkers before she could see them shuffling around the abandoned car.

  Daryl. She couldn't see Daryl.

  No. No!

  She crept along the tree line, silently praying that none of them would smell her as she spied on their ambling group. There were no signs of the winged man, no blood on the ground other than the blood spattered underneath the (finally) dead corpses.

  A spike of cold plunged deep into her belly, and her breath all but froze in her lungs. If he wasn't here, and she didn't cross paths with him, where the hell is he?

  Her questions were answered when a warm hand flew over her mouth from behind, and a much larger frame pressed tight against hers.

  "Shh," Daryl whispered softly in her ear. Even though his breath was hot on her neck, it sent chills down her throat that traveled low.. "It's just me."

  She turned quietly, careful to swivel her feet and not crack a twig. They were face to face now, his chin directly in her eyesight. They had never been so close, their chests rising and falling in unison, brushing against each other in a pulsing rhythm.

  His eyes.. they bite into her very soul. She felt the sudden urge to look away under the searing gaze, but fought against it. His mouth hovered just above hers, lingering in a way that felt meaningful. She tilted her chin, and as she started to close the distance between them, she hesitated.. and he met her halfway.

  Their lips caressed softly at first, not timid or awkward, but soft.. gentle. He cupped her face in his large, rough hands, running his fingers through her curls and brushing lightly down her neck.

  She traced the line of veins in his wrist up to his biceps, along his collarbone and around to the back of his neck, pulling hard. As she pulled him closer, impossibly close, his hands made their way down her back, pressing tightly at the smallest part.

  Crack.

  A walker stumbled into the tree next to them, interrupting the moment and snapping them back in reality.

  Daryl linked his fingers through hers, pulling her behind him as they raced through trees. She forced herself to match his pace, her lungs screaming in protest.

  They skidded to a stop in front of the burrow, Daryl resting his hands on his knees as he caught his breath.

  "Carl is hiding over here," she breathed, wobbling on shaking legs as she pointed towards the toppled tree.

  "Carl," she whispered louder. "Come on, kid, we're clear."

  Silence.

  Zepp felt the blood drain from her face.

  She flung herself to the ground, digging through the weeds to crawl to the back of the hiding spot.

  The damn kid ran.

  "Damn it!"

  She crawled backwards, Daryl already at her side with his crossbow ready.

  "Carl! Carl, where are you!?"

  Daryl whistled, pointing towards tracks on the ground a few yards away. They darted in the same direction, skinny tree branches whipping and scarring their faces.

  "Carl!" Her throat burned as she screamed.

  He was out here alone. He ran which means something came after him. What if it was still following him?

  What if it caught him already? 

  "Carl, I swear to god if you can hear me, you better bring your ass here now," Daryl shouted.

  A crack in the distance brought them to a screeching stop, Daryl faced toward the sound as Zepp covered his rear side.

  The young sheriff came stumbling through the trees, tears in his eyes and blood splattered across his milky pale skin.

  "Carl!" Zepp huffed, sprinting towards the boy and seizing him into a tight hug. "What the hell were you thinking, I told you to stay put!"

  "I'm sorry. You were gone for a while and I was worried," he stuttered. She flushed with embarrassment, her moment with Daryl flashing behind her eyelids. "I heard a walker coming and thought it was you so I jumped out too early, I think I confused it out in the woods so I was coming back to the hole. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

  "Don't ever do that again," she whispered. "If I tell you to hide somewhere, you hide. I will always come back for you, you hear me?"

  Carl nodded solemnly and sniffled, passing her knife back.

  A red flare shot through the sky like a shooting star, just north of where they were.

  "Come on," Daryl growled.

  The trio scrambled through the woods, dodging a few walkers on the way to save their energy and their bullets. After three or so miles, a large warehouse loomed in the distance, a running car and a few living people scattered around outside.

  "Dad!" Carl yelled, sprinting towards the group before slamming himself into Rick's sturdy frame. Rick squeezed his son tightly, throwing Zepp a grateful look of acknowledgment.

  She nodded in response and turned to face Daryl, who shifted uncomfortably, and softly cupped her elbow before inching away. Veronica was marching towards them, throwing herself onto Zepp and gripping her face in her hands.

  "Oh my god, you're okay. You're okay, right?"

  Zepp smiled, grazing her hand down Veronica's arm. "Yeah, I'm good." She wrapped her arms around the other woman's neck, comforted in the embrace, and immensely aware of Daryl's eyes on her.

  "I'm fine."