43. A New Beginning

'Like the sky, my beloved is everywhere
but next to me.'
-rupi kaur

⤐

Zeppelin felt as though a hole had been ripped through her chest. The air was almost unbreathable, suffocating her as she paced with shaking legs, most of her group still back in their place in line. She barely managed to give them a second glance.

  Grief gnawed at her heart, nibbled at her intestines. She stared at the tire tracks in the dirt, the only proof the Saviors had even been there, apart from the bloody bodies on the ground.

  She always knew there would be a day when Daryl Dixon no longer existed in this world. It was a small, ugly thought in the back of her head, hiding it's sickly scales in the pit of her brain and sinking it's razor sharp claws into her at every drop. When she allowed herself to actually ponder on the moment it would happen, she had always imagined he would go down fighting, in a swarm of walkers or a burning building; in whatever horrible way it would always be to save his family.

  Now he was gone, and it was nothing like her nightmares. He was taken from her, taken from his family. Beaten and forced into the dark.

  Her thoughts were buzzing with too many what if's, too many memories, too many regrets. She pushed them all away, focusing on the direction of the tire tracks in front of her. So much so that she didn't hear Rick come up behind her, jumping out of her skin when she felt his hand on her shoulder.

  His face was swollen and puffy, and his eyes were bloodshot and lifeless, the tears staining his cheeks matching her own. "We're..." he paused, his broken voice rumbling like gravel. "We're gonna take 'em to Hilltop. Bury 'em there..." He pinched the bridge of his nose and looked down at his dusty boots, inhaling a sharp sniff through his nostrils.

  "I'm sorry." The words barely above a whisper.

She felt herself moving, but no longer held any control of her own body. She felt herself shake her head, her fingers clenched tight until the knuckles were the color of bone. She felt her right foot take one step backward, her left twisting until she faced away from him, faced towards the road out of the clearing. They hesitated there for a moment, her scuffed and torn hiking boots in the packed dirt.

  The wind whispered through the curls dusting her arms and the sunlight finally appeared, turning the dust in the air to glistening diamonds. She felt her feet move one in front of the other, slow and unsure at first like a baby deer taking it's first steps. Then they were faster and faster until she was jogging, running, sprinting. She was faintly aware of the sound of Rick's boots behind her, the buzz in her ear of him calling her name but she wouldn't stop, she couldn't.

All she could see were the tracks.

He reached for her, fingertips brushing the cloth of her shirt. She fought past him, hearing him call out for her, felt him getting closer, but her life, her heart, everything that made sense was driving off away from her.

Rick's arms wrapped around her suddenly, one across her chest and the other hauling her rib cage tight against him. "No!" She screamed, pushing down on the arm around her ribs and kicking her legs out. "Let me go!"

It felt as if a marble statue had claimed her in it's grip. He tightened his hold on her, struggling against her squirming body. His breath was hot on her ear as he held himself close to her, forcing her feet to flatten on the ground as he hunched over her. He grabbed his own wrists, locking his grip around her tight as they caught their breath.

  "You can't," he breathed shakily. "You can't."

  "Please," she sobbed, her weakened limbs giving in to the weight of him on her back. She wanted to scream, to fight and claw her way out of his embrace, rage and instinct tempting her to escape him. He shifted, just enough to allow her to lunge, his first mistake. She made a break for it, and he snapped her arm before she could get too much further. Then something inside her snapped, and it all happened too quick.

In response, she whirled to face him, her clenched fist connecting with his jaw in a sharp crack. Rick groaned, more from shock than pain, opening his mouth and flexing his jaw. The shock stilled him, and she stole away her second chance. She turned to run.

Rick grabbed her again before she made it four steps forward, slamming her back hard against him and crossing her arms over her chest. "Stop, Zeppelin," he pleaded. "Stop."

Anger diffusing into desperation, she answered with a sob. He twisted her around to face him and shaking her shoulders as if he could shake some sense back into her. "You have to stop."

"Please, just.. just go to Hilltop. You have to help Maggie, and- and you have keep your family safe."

"You are my family." Rick's fingers dug painfully into her skin, forcing her to bring her gaze to his.

She sniffed, taking a shaky breath. "I'll, I'll meet you-"

She couldn't even finish the plead. Understanding, true understanding settled and the fog in her head cleared. If she went after them now, in the state she was in with nothing but the clothes she had on her back, she'd never be able to find the Saviors. She wouldn't find Daryl. It would be for nothing.

  Rick's grip around her loosened, letting her hunch over as she held her own arms around herself. He let her have a few more seconds to feel sorry for herself before he cupped two fingers under her chin, tilting her head to look at him until her spine straightened, and then he wrapped his arm behind her neck, pulling her close to his chest as she struggled to breathe.

"I can't... I can't breathe," she cried, pushing away from him. Not only the crushing steel of his arms around her, even the world itself felt as if it was closing in on her. She tried to focus on her surroundings, watching the birds float calmly in their patterns while her lungs and heart floundered helplessly.

Rick watched her, waited for her rage to settle, then reached for her again, pressing his forehead against hers as he matched his breath with her own.

"We'll get him back," he promised.

  He dropped his hands to her shoulders, turning her around with lighter pressure than before, urging her to stumble back to the group as he guided her over.

Zeppelin accepted it, everything getting a bit fuzzy.

Carl held a sobbing Maggie as Michonne and Aaron made their way to Glenn's body. Sasha leaned close to Rosita's shivering frame on the ground. Eugene kneeled next to Abraham and silently cried. Every face was the same, no matter where they stood.

Despair.

Of all the pain and loss they had endured together, Negan had shaken them to their core.

She squatted next to Rosita and leaned into her side, their arms wrapping around each other as she watched Rick, his eyes darting between his family. They had seen their fair share of fucked up together. The night the farm was overrun, captured and almost slaughtered by cannibals, the weeks of open road and little food leaving them to roast feral dogs over the fire, the hundreds of walkers crawling around the streets of Alexandria.. this was different.

This was harder. This was a new beginning.

  Time passed, she didn't know how much. They eventually scooped their friend's bodies off the ground and gently placed them in the back of their RV. She helped Maggie up the stairs, one arm holstered around her waist, and Zepp let her bury her face in her shoulder as they sat down near Glenn's body. The camper roared to life, cutting through the thick quiet settled over them all.

She followed Rick's haunted gaze to the side mirror just as a walker stumbled to the pile of brains, falling to it's knees and feasting on the bloody mess.

She looked away and over to the bench across from her. In the empty space she imagined Daryl, warm and glowing with his arms crossed over his chest and that crooked smile she loves. She shook her head, leaning closer to Maggie as she pushed all the soft and happy feelings away, anything golden that would send a spike through her heart.

Instead, she thought of the Saviors. She thought of each face, the features and hair colors, height and weight, anything her brain could grasp. She flashed through them silently, her eyes darting between her sullen group without really seeing them.

Negan was right about one thing tonight..

She would see the Saviors again.

Sooner than he thinks.

⤐ THE NEXT DAY ⤐

Zepp was awake before the sun fully rose.

In truth she'd been awake all night, crouched on the window seat in Maggie's room and picking nervously at her fingernails as she stared out the foggy glass pane. She hardly noticed the sky getting lighter, shades of black and purple fading to pastel blue and pink. It seemed strange that the sun would still rise, and yet it looked completely different to her now.

She blinked and rubbed her stinging eyes with the back of her hand before unfolding herself from her position on the bench.

Maggie was fast asleep in the downy bed, her breathing soft and even. The doctor managed to ease her pain and gave her orders to rest and relax. She had only nodded, looking away to some spot on the ceiling. She'd barely spoken a word since Glenn's death, relaxation would be the last thing she'd be able to find any time soon. Zepp brought the thin blanket up further until it touched Maggie's chin, and she sighed in unconscious appreciation.

Zepp quietly stashed a shirt and socks in her faded brown backpack and slipped her boots on carefully, inching away from the bed and out the door into the still dark living room. Gregory had given the people of Alexandria a few trailers to stay in overnight while Maggie recovered, but most of them would soon be on their way back home. Maggie would stay to be close to the doctor, and Sasha volunteered to stay with her. It lifted a weight on Zepp's shoulders, the thought of Maggie having a friend who would stay with her. It softened the twinge of guilt she felt for leaving her now.

But it had to be done.

She moved as quiet as a fox, slinking to the tiny kitchen to grab protein bars, a jar of peanut butter and a spoon, two bottles of water and a dull but useable kitchen knife. She grimaced as she shoved the knife in the side pocket of the backpack. If she was going through with this, she'd need a better weapon selection.

Jesus.

She slung the bag over her shoulder and lifted her hood over her tied back curls. Her hand was warm against the thin, cold metal of the door as she pushed it open, the creaking of the metal hinges rubbing against each other making her flinch. The morning air was crisp and cool, fog coating her breath as she exhaled deeply. She didn't see anyone walking around, and their guards never bothered to look back as far as she could tell, so she walked to the main building in confidence, though she checked over her shoulder every few steps.

  The main building loomed in the dim sky, only one or two windows lit by a flickering flame. She faintly remembered Jesus pointing out which room was his as he showed her around, and she tried to count which window would be his.

Fuck it if it's not.

  She chucked a small pebble up at the window, and the satisfying clink of the glass was louder than she had hoped it would be. She waited a few moments before she tossed another, harder this time. A lamp flicked on, illuminating the room in a soft yellow glow. Jesus, disheveled and thoroughly confused, appeared in the frame and slowly slid the glass up.

"What are you doing?" He hissed a whisper, resting his elbows against the ledge as he leaned out the window.

She said nothing, only waved her hands towards herself in a 'come here' motion.

He hesitated before shaking his head and turned, his silhouette disappearing quickly. As she waited in the grass below, she shoved her hands in her pockets to force herself to stop picking at her skin. After what seemed like ages, the front door finally creaked open. Jesus wore his long leather coat over a sweatshirt and cotton slacks which were shoved sloppily into his boots.

"Little early for a wake up call," he grumbled, though his voice was soft and his lips tweaked with a smile.

"I'm sorry, but I need your help," she whispered, pulling him across the porch and over to a wooden bench with ornate, black iron handles. "I need to get my hands on some weapons." She tapped her boot against the ancient wood beneath her foot and fiddled with her thumbs, her nervous habits rearing their ugly heads.

Jesus gave no sign he was confused or shocked, his expression calm and collected. He sighed and leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest, and looked away towards the stables they kept on the property. "You can't do this alone, Zepp," he murmured, fixing his gaze back on her.

She shook her head quickly and forced a smile, feeling tears welling in her eyes but shoving them back down. "I wouldn't ask anybody else to do it. I'll be fine. But if I'm going to get anywhere, I need weapons. At least a couple of guns with extra ammo and a melee of some kind. I promise I'll get them back to you or pay you back for them somehow. Can you help me? Please?"

He looked at her for what seemed like too long, and she felt uncomfortable under his gaze. Finally, he nodded, standing from the bench and holding up one finger. "Wait here. Gregory won't like this," he whispered. "You can't tell anyone you got them from me." Before she could make the promise, he turned on his heel and bounded down the steps, disappearing into the dim sunlight around the corner. She could do nothing but wait, pulling her knees up to her chest and resting her head on them.

She tried not to think of Daryl too much.

Every time his face or his name or the sound of his laugh filtered through her brain, her chest ached, deep and icy and crushing her heart. She couldn't bear to think of him any more, couldn't take the pain.

  She tuned everything out, staring off into the tree tops teasing just above the fence until about thirty minutes went by, Jesus' footsteps pulling her from her trance. He held a pistol in one hand and a hatchet in the other, a rifle strapped over his chest and a box of ammo sticking out of his coat pocket.

  She scrambled from her spot on the bench and met him at the stairs. "Thank you," she breathed. "Thank you, this is more than I could've hoped for." She tucked the pistol in her back waistband and the hatchet through a loop in the brown leather holster she wore around her hips. Jesus placed the ammo in her backpack for her while she slung the rifle over her shoulder. She turned around to face him again, grabbing his hands in her own.

  "Thank you," she repeated.

  He nodded and squeezed her fingers, dropping his to his side. "Be quiet, and be careful," he whispered. "If anyone asks.. I never saw you."

  She inhaled deeply through her nose and out through her mouth, collecting her thoughts and calming her heart rate. As she took each step slowly and padded down the dirt path, she was reminded of the feeling she had the first time she was here. That there was no turning back now.

Maybe if she had known that day that everything would change.. that their footsteps here would set off an eruption she couldn't stop, then maybe she would've kissed Daryl harder in that bathroom. Maybe she wouldn't have wasted her time worrying if he felt something for Carol, and instead enjoyed the time she was gifted with him. Or maybe she would've told him she loved him, and his own declaration wouldn't have been a rushed fear that he would never have that chance again.

She quickened her pace once she reached the trailers, though she doubted any of her family would be awake just yet. But as if the universe heard her thoughts and gave her a giant fuck you, one of the doors opened, and the last face she could handle seeing now was looking right at her.

Rick stood in the doorway, his frame illuminated by the lamp inside as he rest one arm against the door. He shook his head slowly, in disappointment, and she rolled her eyes and ignored him. He jumped out the door and followed close behind her.

  "What do you think you're doing?" He grumbled, catching up to her quickly and swinging around to block her path.

  She wiped her hand over her forehead in exasperation, crossing her arms. She didn't want anyone to know the truth of where she was going or what she had planned, didn't want anyone else involved once Negan realized what was happening. But she found herself unable to lie to Rick. She put her trust in him and he in her, something she couldn't break now. She decided to tell the truth.

  "I'm going back to the clearing and I'm gonna follow the tracks. Once I find their camp or town or whatever, I'll scope it out for a few days and look for my opportunity. I'm going to find Daryl and bring him home."

Her voice was calm and matter-of-fact, and she felt very proud of herself for hiding the screaming inside her head.

  "Are you insane?" He gripped her forearms, hard, his fingers pressing into the bone. "You can't. You saw what Negan can do, what the Saviors are capable of. You make one wrong move and you ruin everything."

  She flinched against his harsh words and took one step back. "I'm not asking for permission," she snapped as her gaze darkened.

"Z, I thought we went through this before. Listen to me, please." He wiped his other hand over his mouth, pulling his thin and tired skin down with it. "They outnumber us twenty to one, maybe more, we don't even know. You can't do this alone, you can't do this to us."

She shrugged away from his grasp, stepping around him and crashing against his shoulder as she stomped away. He followed again, whipping her around to face him.

"I can't let you do this," he growled. "This could have consequences you can't even imagine."

She tossed his arm away from where it rest on her forearm. "I have done everything you've asked of me, without question. I defended you.. to Veronica, to Deanna, to Alexandria. I put my all into believing in you, why can't you believe in me now?"

"Because this is fucking stupid," he hissed, the tone of his voice jarring against the lightness of his touch as his grabbed her arms again. "You won't get what you want out of this and you could make it worse for us all."

"He is your brother," she said, her teeth grinding together. "He has sacrificed for you over and over, he would go to the ends of the earth looking for you, and you're telling me you won't do the same for him?"

That hit a nerve, though Rick tried not to show it.

"I have to do what's best for my children."

She shook her head, backing away from him. "I'm sorry Rick, I really am. You know I love you and the kids.. and you're right, you are my family. But so is Daryl. He..." she trailed off. "I need to do this. I have to find him, Rick.. I have to. Tell Negan I didn't make it, or I ran away or something. As far as he's concerned, you don't know where I am or what I'm doing."

Rick sighed, tears looming as he leaned back on his heels and brought his gaze to the moon. "I can't change your mind, can I?"

She shook her head no, the two of them watching each other, a mirror image. "I'll come back," she promised. "This isn't goodbye."

"It could be," he murmured. "You know that?"

"I know... I'm sorry," she said. There was nothing she could say to ease his worries, and there was nothing he could say to keep her there.

She grabbed him by his shirt and pulled him close for a tight embrace, squeezing her eyes shut against the tears dangerously close to spilling. He pressed his forehead against hers again, still shaking his head.

She pulled away from him, tucking the loose curls falling from her ponytail back behind her ear. She turned quickly, unable to meet his gaze again. If she looked back, she was certain she'd crumble and collapse, and let Rick drag her back inside. She felt that gaze burning into her back as she went, one foot in front of the other to the large wall looming ahead of her. The guard looked down, giving her one small nod before giving the signal to open up.

Once she passed the threshold, the icy chill in her bones returned, settling over her in a freezing grip. Her heart hurt leaving Rick, Rosita, Maggie and Carl behind. She promised Carl long ago that she'd always come back for him...

This is Daryl, she reminded herself. He would do it for me, for any one of us, in a heartbeat.

The sun rose higher in the distance, warming her skin as she made her way back down the gravel road. She would return to the clearing, she would find the tracks and she would let them lead her to Daryl.

They would lead her home.

Or, to her death.

Whatever outcome, she had already accepted it the moment she stepped through the Hilltop gates.

She always knew there would be a day when Daryl Dixon no longer existed in this world.

And she'd be right behind him, no matter what it took.