9. Reunion

'I am not my worst days,
I am not what happened to me.'
-rupi kaur

⤐

TIME is a fickle notion. It goes by the same as always, yet somehow it always feels different. Zeppelin knew it was passing, though there was nothing in the cramped, dusty train car to give her any sense of it. The survivors barely let their voices travel above a whisper as they huddled in their small groups together.

They could hear guards walking by every now and then, though Zepp only counted two pairs of feet at any given time. Veronica finally broke the silence between them, her voice cracking from disuse.

"I'm sorry I didn't listen to you.." she murmured, swiping a stray tear dripping down her cheek. "I just- I thought you were just scared to trust people."

Zeppelin grimaced and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "Now you see why," she retorted. Even in the dim light, she could see Veronica's face drop, though she quickly tried to hide it. Zepp had never been good at biting her words.

Thankfully, Veronica pushed on, straightening her shoulders against the cool metal wall. "What are we going to do?"

Some of the others turned at the tentative question meant only for Zeppelin's ears.

She cleared her throat, searching for anything that could resemble an answer. "We'll fight," she finally settled on.

Veronica breathed a laugh, shaking her head at Zepp's questioning gaze. "You've always been the fighter."

Is that true?

Yes, she had a reputation in school. Too quickly swallowed by anger, her first reaction was always the physical. Bullies, mean girls, racists, even some idiot just doing what idiots do, it didn't matter. They all looked the same when she saw red. Her mother was called to meet with the principal and guidance counselors countless times in the hopes they could find the source of the problem, though she never once showed up.

But if she was being honest, Zepp never wanted to be the fighter. She just always wanted someone to fight for her, too.

She rapped her fist against Veronica's calf halfheartedly and turned back to stare at the door. The people of Terminus had taken their weapons, unsurprisingly, and she glowered at the fact that one of them must have dipped their fingers into the waistband of her jeans to find the dagger she had kept hidden there.

Her gaze switched to a wooden beam in the center of the train car, the bottom corner cracking and splintering, and she scooted over to untie her boots. Looping the laces around the jagged edge, she began sawing away. She could hear Rosita's soft, admiring chuckle from behind her as she peered to see her work before plopping down next to Veronica.

Abraham paced closer, squeezing his fists at his sides over and over again.

"Take a seat, captain," Zepp smirked. "Could be a while."

Abe merely grunted in response, turning away from her. Then, gunshots echoed outside the train car.

The group all rose to their feet in a hurry, huddling together in the far corner as they listened to the shouts and scuffling blended with radio chatter and distant gunshots outside. Abraham and Zepp stood side by side, holding their arms wide to shield the rest from the door.

The shots quieted and then eventually stopped. The only noise Zepp could hear now was her friend's scattered breathing. Finally, muffled shouts came from just a few feet from the car as a few pairs of slow, purposeful footsteps shuffled to the door.

   "I'll go in with him," a deep southern accent drawled, so damn familiar even through the metal door separating them. Maggie and Glenn visibly tensed, pushing past Zepp. The door slid open roughly, the rusted scrap metal squealing against the decaying rails.

A bloody, disheveled cowboy named Rick Grimes sauntered forward, followed by a strong looking woman with sharp eyes and long dreads, then Carl, who had already lost that chubby cheeked innocence she remembered, and then the winged archer himself.

Daryl Dixon.

His hair was longer than when she last saw him, almost brushing his strong jawline. His muscles were firmer and leaner, just as she had felt her own muscles shape in the months on the road. His sharp cheekbones and puffy, half closed eyes told of months of hardship, and she winced at the ache in her chest.

A warm feeling rooted deep in her belly crept over her skin like fire ants as he stepped further into the train car. Surely hours had passed while she stood there, soaking in the way his hair caught the sunlight, the way the veins in his hands twitched.

But it had only been seconds.

Time. Fickle thing.

Zepp dropped her arms to her sides and blinked in disbelief, her gut swirling. As the door slammed shut behind the sullen group, Rick's eyes adjusted to the dark and inhaled a sharp breath, recognizing Maggie's beaming face in the huddle of survivors.

  "You're here.. you're here?" He question was half a groan, half a plea, his cracking voice melting with relief. He drew Maggie in for a hug, squeezing tight around her shoulders before moving over to Glenn. The D.C. group hung back awkwardly as the prison group exchanged tearful hello's, everyone hugging and crying.

Daryl finally fixed his gaze upon the rest of them all, recognition igniting a flame in his face. His narrowed, cold gaze first flicked from Abraham to Veronica, a disgruntled expression creeping into his eyes before a question crept in.

Answering it for him, Zepp cleared her throat.

His eyes met hers, and he went wholly still.

"Hi," she murmured, letting a half smile curve her lips.

They took a single step forward at the same time, and though Zepp could feel Veronica tense behind her, again her body moved without being told, as if some magnetic field pulled her to him. He raised his hand to graze one finger down her arm as if she was a dream, like she wasn't really there, and he inhaled sharply at the contact.

Suddenly, Daryl dropped his gaze to his boots and backed away just as fast as he came to her.

Zepp felt the burning stares of multiple eyes on her, and that heat crept up her neck and flushed across her cheeks. She ignored it, dropping to the ground, and continued sawing at the wooden beam. Their reunion was silent, solemn, and more than she imagined she'd ever have.

Maggie introduced the D.C. group to Rick, explaining how the hell Zeppelin was with them again, and he turned to each face, gazing over all of them with a slight smile. He touched Zepp's shoulder lightly, a small greeting of welcome back to us.

  "They're gonna feel pretty stupid when they find out," he nodded, turning to peek through the crack in the threshold.

  "Find out what?" Abraham grunted.

  "They're fucking with the wrong people.."

⤐

  With the group finally reunited, spirits had lifted dramatically in the car. Rick planned escape methods with Carl and Michonne, Glenn and Maggie whispered back and forth with Daryl about Beth's possible whereabouts, while the D.C. group practiced hand to hand combat with Sausha and Bob.

  Zeppelin was quiet, focused on her task of sawing the sharp chunk of wood off the beam. Daryl locked eyes with her over and over again, their gazes naturally drifting towards one another just as they had around the fires all that time ago.

  His heart was still racing from the moment he recognized her face in the darkness. When he touched her arm to be sure she wasn't just a figment of his imagination, his skin tingled with tiny flames on every nerve. He had backed away from sheer embarrassment, ducked his head to avoid the stares he could feel searing into his skin.

He couldn't begin to understand why she brought these reactions to the surface, why he felt the urge to be close to her.

  From the day they crossed paths in the woods, and even more every day since, she's been a foggy presence settling over his brain. At the prison, he kept thinking to himself, Zepp would really like this. What would she think of that? Where is she now? Is she happy?

  When they brought in the people of Woodbury, a woman stepping off the bus had a mess of wild, chocolate brown curls, and he almost sprinted towards her at the sight. Then she turned, and her face was not the one he had been so desperate to see.

  It had started to fade away with time, but seeing her again tonight brought everything back, exploding into every sense. And every time she looked at him, he couldn't help but wonder if she had felt those things too.

  Daryl tried to ignore it, told himself he was just being stupid, that it was all in his head. But then she'd look at him, and too quickly look away, and he questioned it all again.

  The blonde in the corner stared at Daryl too much for his liking. She sat just behind Zeppelin, occasionally mumbling a sentence or two in attempt to catch her attention. Zepp would politely nod or shake her head, still too focused on sawing the wood with her splintering shoe laces.

  The red head looked at him too much too. Daryl didn't like him since the moment he saw him in the woods that day. The day she left. He wondered if she liked him.. and how much.

Radio chatter grew louder outside the car, interrupting his pondering as multiple pairs of boots scuffled nearby.

"Everyone shut up!" A guard shouted.

  The group sprang to their feet, gripping any weapon they could come up with. A shoe, a chain, Zeppelin's chunk of wood, hell, even just their own fists. "Y'all know what to do," Rick began. "Go for their eyes first. Then their throats."

  Before they had a chance to even blink, the footsteps now pounded on the roof as the hatch opened and a gas can clinked on the metal floor below.

  The last thing Daryl remembered was throwing himself over Zepp.

⤐

For the third time since meeting Daryl Dixon, Zepp woke with a throbbing headache in an unfamiliar place. She blinked a few times and surveyed a dim, dusty old room that smelled of mildew and was filled with hundreds of lit candles. She was tied to a chair in the center of the room, in the center of the names written in chalk scribbled over the concrete floor.

A gash in her forehead burned and her head was exploding, but even that blinding pain couldn't stop her from struggling against the binds on her wrist. She desperately searched for a way out before the sound of a metal door squeaking open just behind her kept her frozen in the chair, waiting to meet the cold eyes of her captor.

A scraggly man with dark hair and pointed features sauntered in front of her with his hips spread wide, an evil smirk on his face. He gnawed on a burnt piece of meat on a paper plate, sucking his fingers one by one before setting it down on the side table next to her.

  "Let's start with introductions," he began cheerily, his voice dripping with just a tint of cruelty. "I'm Gareth, welcome to Terminus. You are?" He gestured towards her in invitation.

  Her only response was to spit on his boots.

  His smirk dropped and let out a deep sigh, running his hands through his greasy hair.

  "You know, I admire how you stayed behind after your group. If we weren't so prepared for intruders, you might've actually been able to take some of us down and get your friends out," he continued, almost in congratulations. "Too bad it didn't work, but, I gotta say.. I like the bravery."

That smirk was plastered across his face again, like she should be on her knees in gratitude after his compliments.

  "Where are my people?"

  "Ah, she speaks!" He chuckled, resting his hands on his hips.

  "Where are they!?"

  Gareth rubbed his fingers on his chin in thought for a moment. "They're getting... processed."

  The glint in his eye reminded her of the starving wolf she had come across months ago; wild, hungry, empty.

  She struggled again and earned a chuckle from the ratty man. He leaned in close to her, dropping to his knees and placing his hands on her thighs. "You were chosen, do you realize that? Because you seemed different. Strong. A protector. We don't get a lot of women, and the ones we do.." he chuckled, his eyes dragging over every inch of her face. "They get claimed pretty quickly."

Zeppelin sneered at him in response, and he sucked his teeth, scolding her indignation.

"We could have a place for you here, if you want it."

  She titled her chin slightly upwards as he leaned in, hungrily awaiting her answer. She jerked her head back and slammed forward as hard as she could, smacking into the sharp bones of his own forehead. Almost immediately, her vision rimmed with black and she really wasn't sure how much more head trauma she could take before she had a concussion.

As stars started to dance behind her eyelids, she realized one was already taking over.

  "Fucking bitch!" Gareth shouted, spitting out blood and rubbing his lip where his teeth sliced through. Another man popped open the door, peeking his head into the illuminated room.

Gareth tossed her one more incredulous glare before he stalked over to the man to whisper in his ear. Then he left, slamming the door behind him.

The other man ambled over to Zepp, his pistol aimed directly in between her eyes. She tilted her head and smiled at him, still straining against the rope digging into her flesh.

  He slowly pulled out a large knife from his belt, his gaze and gun never leaving her face while he cut the binds. Then he grabbed her by the shirt and yanked her out of the seat, shoving her towards the door. "Move," he mumbled.

As she scrambled to keep up with him, an explosion rattled the building, screams and gunshots ringing from outside. She saw her opportunity while her captor was stumbled on his feet, and it was over in seconds. She slammed her boot into his kneecap, her stomach flipping at the sickening crack of the bone shattering. He fell to the floor just as she snatched his pistol and struck him across the face. Once, twice, three times for good measure.

  Then she bolted out the door, skidding around the corner of a dark, damp hallway lined with doors on either side. A cracked window loomed at one end and she sprinted over to survey the area. In the distance, walkers poured through a smoking gate, some of them ablaze as they dragged themselves through the entrance. People she didn't recognize were scattered throughout the alleys, some of them pouring blood from bite wounds. A woman directly below was sprawled on the ground as three corpses feasted on her flesh.

She frantically searched for a face she knew before her gaze landed on the leather wings. Her people were racing through the smoky buildings, taking down walkers and heading towards the train cars. Zepp jumped on the windowsill and pushed it open to the side, preparing herself for the jump, when suddenly a hand snaked through the curls dusting her back, yanking her inside.

  She tumbled to the floor, nimbly twisting to avoid the hands reaching for her. She scrambled to her feet, and ducked again as the hands reached out once more. A woman not much older than Zeppelin herself squared her shoulders across from her, widening her stance on too thin legs. Her sandy brown hair was buzzed short, showing off a crow tattoo inked into the side of her neck.

  "Your little friends might get away, but hell if you do," she spat. Zeppelin wiped the sweat dripping down her cheek and exhaled deeply, bracing herself as the woman lurched forward, body slamming her until she was pressed into the wall.

  Zepp cried out and brought her knee up into the woman's rib cage, then again until she finally stepped away from her. Her first punch landed cleanly into her jaw, then the next was square on the nose.

  In one swift movement, Zepp kicked the other woman in the stomach, knocking her away until she was sliding down the wall.

  Zepp quickly crawled out the window, hopping the few feet down to the wide ledge below her. She tiptoed to the side of the building in the direction her group went, swinging her legs over the side and jumped, landing hard on the fire escape below. Her ankle popped in protest, but she had to ignore it for now.

  Just as a sniper appeared on the roof to her left, shots rang out and he was dropped in seconds. She searched the crowd below to find who saved her, but only walkers shuffled along the street.

Eventually a path to the edge of the property cleared and she scrambled down the fire escape, dodging as many walkers as she could to conserve her energy. When she skirted around the corner, and the train cars finally came in sight, her gut bubbled with bile.

  The doors were wide open and walkers spilled in and out of the cars, mindlessly wandering in search for something to eat. She darted across the lot to the large metal box and slid underneath, searching for a cut in the fence, a rope from a tree, anything her people could've used to escape from here. She scooted forward on her belly to peer out further through the smoke.

  A little ways ahead, a pile of walkers pushed into the fence, fighting their way to the other side. She thought she could see a blanket covering the barbed wire over top and breathed a sigh of relief.

They made it out.

She tried to ignore the tiny voice in her head as she realized that once again she had been left behind.

  Forgotten. They don't care about you.

  No, no they had to save themselves.

  They know I'm strong.

  She shook the thoughts away and reached for her knife before sliding out from underneath the train car. The corpses hadn't noticed her yet as she stabbed the ground under the fence over and over, loosening the hard soil until she could scrape it out with her boots.

  With aching muscles, her skin burning and dripping sweat, she made a big enough hole that she could shimmy underneath to the other side. She let out a sharp gasp as her long hair caught on the prongs of the fence and ripped, but she ignored all the pain and forced her feet to move forward.

She sprinted through the woods, only slowing to look for a trail. Where signs of other people crashing through the brush used to freeze her in her steps, now it warmed her heart. She knew she was getting closer and finally slowed to a shaking walk as their silhouettes appeared in the clearing.

They saw her the same moment she saw them, and Veronica dropped the gun Rick was handing to her and sprinted over to Zepp. She slammed into the other woman with full force, wrapping her arms tightly around Zepp's neck. She winced and grunted at the pain but squeezed her back anyway.

  With their arms still tight around each other, V's body wracked with shaky sobs, Zepp caught Daryl's eyes over her shoulder. He gave her a small nod, imperceptible to anyone but her, and she smiled in return, then he turned back to Rick.

The rest of the group greeted Zepp while Rick anxiously paced around them.

  "We're going back," he stated.

Rosita scoffed and stalked closer to the wild-eyed man. "Have you lost your mind!?"

Abraham stood close behind her, clamping a hand on her shoulder. "We just made it out."

Maggie and Glenn agreed, it seemed like everyone thought it best to let the walkers take care of them. A tiny part of Zepp wanted to join Rick's side, though exhaustion took over her and she kept her gaze at her boots as she rest against a large tree trunk.

  They deserved death, and the only way to be sure was to do it themselves.

  Just as she opened her mouth to agree, a disheveled figure ambled out from the trees. Daryl whipped his head to face the woman, immediately racing to her as his brain registered who she was.

Carol.

He squeezed her tight and swung from side to side, lifting her slightly in a loving embrace before ducking as she kissed him on the forehead.

  Zepp had to look away from the happy reunion, choosing to instead focus on the trees above her. Veronica nudged her leg with her boot and raised her eyebrows.

  You ok? she mouthed.

  Zepp merely nodded and closed her eyes. Rick embraced Carol next as the group looked on, tears streaming.

  Carol was the first to pull away from Rick, wiping her tears and sniffling. "You have to come with me," she breathed.

  Without another word she turned the opposite way, Rick and Daryl close on her heels without question.

  Veronica reached down to help pull Zepp off the ground and the rest of the group trekked behind them, leaving the smoke and chaos of Terminus at their backs.

  They hurriedly rushed through the woods until they passed over a hill, a small wooden cabin resting just to the side. A large African-American man was stepping through the too-small door clutching a small baby at his side, a wide grin spreading over his face.

  Rick dropped his pack to the ground and raced to meet the pair with Carl close behind. He gently took the child from the man and held her close, kissing her soft head while Carl stroked her tiny hairs, both of them sobbing as they held each other.

  Sausha was embracing the man who had the baby, both of them in tears as well.

  Has to be Tyreese, Zepp mused.

  Abraham and Rosita kept watch from the back of the group, Eugene lookin to them as if waiting for orders. Abraham was anxiously tapping his finger against the side of his rifle when Zepp wandered over to him and rapped her fist against his shoulder.

  "You alright, friend?" She crossed her arms and stood next to him, watching Daryl hug Carol once again.

  Abraham snorted and shook his head. "I'll be alright when we're on the damn road to D.C. And I'm bringing these folks with me," he commanded with his eyes narrowed as he scanned the group.

  Zepp tried not to notice Daryl now staring at the two of them talking close together, and dropped her face to hide the half-smile creeping across. Though as the group got themselves together and began the trip through the woods, she couldn't ignore the feeling of his ice blue eyes burning holes in the back of her head.