19. Try

'sometimes I'm terrified of my own heart,
of it's constant hunger for whatever it wants.
the way it stops and starts.'
-edgar allen poe

⤐

  "You must be Zeppelin!"

  The voice behind her caught her off guard, and she scrunched her nose at the sudden noise interrupting the quiet chirp of the morning birds. She turned to find an average built man with reddish brown hair and incredibly straight, white teeth holding a large hand out to shake hers.

  She didn't return the gesture, simply looking at the hand as she adjusted the rifle on her shoulder. "Just Zepp," her tone warm but careful, she quickly appraised the man before her. He didn't seem to be a threat as far as she could tell, and she quirked a brow at his almost aggressive niceness. He was tall with wide shoulders, and his stubble peppered a strong jawline. She knew he was conventionally attractive, but had no interest.

  "I'm Spencer Monroe," the man beamed, pushing through the awkwardness as he dropped the hand back to his side. "You guys heading out?" He dipped his chin towards the car idling near the gate. The early morning sunrise filtered down through the trees, bouncing in rays off the trunk where Daryl was slinging gallons of water.

  "Yep," she replied, taking a step back towards the car. Monroe, she thought. Another one of Deanna's sons. Well, hopefully this one knows when to shut up.

  "Got everything you need? I can get you some more ammo, supplies, whatever."

  Apparently not.

  He was clearly lingering, hoping to keep the conversation going, but she couldn't decipher the purpose. He took a step forward as she took another one back, and he breathed out a small laugh.

  "Well, you three be careful out there and uh, let me know if I can help in any way." He bowed his head slightly, twisting on his heels and strolling away. He seemed nice enough, mentioned helping, but there was something off that she couldn't pinpoint.

  She watched him walk away until he disappeared around the corner. As she broke her gaze from the street, she saw the woman Rick was with at the party stomping away from her house in a hurry. A tall, balding man ran out after her, screaming something incoherent. Her heart twisted, her vision blurring until she saw her mother and stepfather, screaming at each other in the street when she was a child.

  The sound of the trunk slamming shut yanked her from her thoughts, and Daryl wiped his hands on the bandana in his pocket as he stalked up behind her.

  "Sup with that guy," he grunted, his brows furrowing in the direction Spencer took off in.

  Zepp shook her head slightly, shifting her weight and accidentally brushing her arm against his own. "Nothin'," she sighed. She was wildly aware of how close they were, of how the early morning mist settling on her skin did nothing to satiate the fire coursing through her veins. His proximity to her scrambled her brain, making words next to impossible to form.

  Earlier in the morning, before the sun had even begun to stretch it's arms into the horizon, the two of them snuck out to meet Rick and Carol at the cabin in the woods. Carol successfully snagged six guns from the armory, invisible just as she said she would be.

  "Take your pick," she murmured, pulling various pistols and handguns out of the brown sack she carried. Rick had mumbled a sound of approval, and Zepp greedily began searching through the weapons, but Daryl was hesitant.

  "Man, I was thinking.." he whispered, as if he was afraid the birds and rabbits would hear and run off to snitch on them. "Do we really need these? I mean, things go bad then yeah, sure. We do what we gotta do, but it's like you said," he nodded to Rick. "We don't need these for that."

  The gun felt like ice in Zepp's hands.

  "Not now, we don't," Carol's response dripped with unconvinced suspicion. Rick's expression matched hers, and Zeppelin forced her face into a smooth mask of calm.

  "You wanted me to try, right?" Daryl held his hands up, the palms facing them. "I'm good."

  Carol tried, and failed, to hide the way her eyes rolled to the back of her head. Rick hesitated, but it was only seconds before he gingerly took a pistol and tucked it into the waistband of his pants. Zeppelin had watched the interaction, hoping that Rick would give her some kind of clue on which direction she should take.

  Finally, she reached out for the gun, the fading A stamped on her skin a glaring reminder of everything she wanted the damn thing for, and slid it underneath the back of her shirt, trying to ignore the feeling of Daryl's gaze.

  Now, she cleared her throat, looking down at her boots and scuffing the packed dirt. Just as she opened her mouth to speak, Aaron whistled softly from the iron gates, signaling the two of them to hop in the car.

  Zepp perched in the passenger seat as Daryl slouched in the back, Aaron at the wheel. Sasha and Veronica were on watch at the gate, the latter woman giving Zepp a small wave as they pulled out of the neighborhood. The van containing Aiden, his annoying friend Nicholas, Glenn, Tara, Eugene, and Tyreese was just behind them, and some dance mix blared from the speakers as they turned the opposite direction. Tara tossed them a peace sign as they pulled away, which Zepp returned, to her own surprise.

  They were off on their first run together, searching for some batteries that Eugene insisted would be at a warehouse nearby, and Zepp and Daryl were on their first expedition, in the hopes of finding people worthy of joining their group.

  It felt strange to have a purpose again, outside of hunting and caring for Judith. It felt good.

As she caught Daryl's burning, steady gaze through the passenger side mirror, a small part of her hoped they would keep doing this forever.

⤐

  "Shit," Daryl grumbled, wiping his knife across his knee, walker guts smearing into the faded denim.

  Zeppelin tossed him the half empty gallon of water, sliding against the wall of the gas station and plopping down onto the pavement. When Aaron suggested they cover more ground and split up, Daryl was wildly relieved to find it was an unspoken agreement that she stay with him.

  Her breaths were hard but steady, beads of sweat dripping down her neck and into her collarbones. They had just taken down about twenty corpses, and she handled herself as well as he did, hell, maybe even better, though he checked himself and his instincts whenever one got too close to her for his comfort.

He silently scanned her body from afar for any signs of blood, and assessing she was safe, turned back to the road to watch for Aaron. He had been gone just over the hour they agreed to be separated, and though he hadn't set off his flare yet, Daryl began to worry they'd have to go looking for him.

  They hadn't found any survivors on their little trip today, and barely any supplies. Daryl was tired, hungry, and cranky as his gaze panned the field across from them.

  "Where the hell is he?"

  "He'll be here."

  Calm, unbothered. He rolled his eyes.

  "I'm giving it ten more minutes then we have to go after his ass," he grunted.

  Zepp leaned her head back against the wall, closing her eyes and nodding. "You got it, captain."

  The minutes ticking by felt like hours, and just as the time was almost up, they could spot Aaron's orange backpack bobbing through the grass. Daryl let out a low whistle towards Zepp and together they met near the old, rusty gas pumps.

  "Any luck?" Aaron was out of breath, but had a twinge of hope in his voice, as always.

"Not much. We did manage to snag some diapers for Junebug, a box of protein bars, and a couple cans of coke," Zepp held up the cans with pride, a wide grin sweet as sugar spread across her face. They each took a can, tossed the diapers in the trunk, and leaned back against the car.

  "Yeah, me neither," Aaron murmured over the rim of the soda can. He took a large sip of the lukewarm liquid and wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his flannel shirt. He stared out into the field across from them, his gaze following some unknown prey.

  Zeppelin noticed too. "What's up, Aaron?"

  Aaron blinked, the haze dissipating as he pulled his brain out of the fog. "What?"

  "Something's on your mind, what is it?"

  His cheeks flushed, and he sheepishly shrugged, twisting to set the coke on the roof of the car. "I know it might sound crazy, but after Eric and I found you all, I just had so much... hope." He didn't look at them, turning back to the overgrown wheat grass ahead.

"To find a group as large as yours, where everyone not only has skills to benefit Alexandria, but people who actually care for one another like a family. I've been doing this for a while, and trust me when I say that is a rare thing. I just thought to myself, man.. this is something. We can build something, now maybe the next person I find will be the same, and the next.." He sighed deeply, finally bringing his gaze back to them. "It was stupid, I don't know."

  Zepp shifted closer to rest a comforting hand on his arm. "All you can do is try, right?"

  Daryl's breathing stilled, and he caught Aaron glance at him over her shoulder.

'You just have to try," Aaron murmured from across the dining room table, twirling spaghetti noodles around his fork.

  "You're right," Aaron smiled. "And I'll keep trying."

  A scuffle in the grass beyond had all of them flinching, snagging their weapons quickly. Through the thin tree line, Daryl spotted a black mare weaving through the underbrush, her long, silky mane flowing in the breeze.

Aaron let out a gasp of surprise, lowering his shot gun and slinging his bag tight over his shoulders.

"Come on!" He called out to them, already racing towards the woods where the horse had disappeared.

Zeppelin shot Daryl a confused stare and then shrugged, taking off after him.

⤐

"I've been trying to catch him for months, bring him inside," he huffed, resting his hands on his hips. They had run for two miles before Aaron finally slowed and allowed Zepp and Daryl to catch up. The mare grazed casually in the field ahead, sunlight drenching the clearing in a warm, golden glow.

"Her name is Buttons."

Daryl cast him an incredulous glance.

"One of the kids saw her run by the gate a while back, thought he looked like a Buttons," Aaron shrugged. "I haven't seen her for a while, thought it was too late. Every time Eric or I come close, she gets spooked."

Slowly, he pulled a rope from out of his bag, wrapping it a few times around his hand. Daryl placed his own hand over his just before he gently took it from him.

"Have you done this before?" Aaron's mouth was agape as he watched Daryl loop the rope just the way he needed it, creeping through the overgrown grass.

Zeppelin couldn't help but stare too.

"My group did," he murmured softly, keeping his gaze on the mare. "Back at the prison. But they weren't out there that long.. the longer they're out here, the more they become what they really are."

She followed, creeping just behind him. She wondered if that was true, if being out in the wild forces a soul to become it's true self. She watched Daryl, and thought of her own soul. The parallel sent a chill down her spine.

"Hey, pretty girl," Daryl whispered gently, inching closer to the mare, still grazing as if she was blissfully unaware of their lurking presence. "I ain't gonna hurt you, you just keep on eating. That's a good girl."

His voice was softer than she'd ever heard it before, a humming purr that hooked it's finger around something inside her, coaxing it to the surface.

She shook her head as if she could shake away her traitorous thoughts, focusing on anything but the way her skin was coated in goosebumps.

"You used to be somebody's huh?" If Daryl reached out a hand, he could've stroked the silky black coat. "Now you're just your own."

The familiar grumble of walkers nearby startled the horse, and she kicked her legs out high, narrowly missing Daryl's shoulder blades thanks to Zeppelin yanking him back towards her. By the time the three of them took out the six corpses, she was already gone.

"You ride horses?" Aaron broke the silence that had followed them for the better part of two miles as they continued tracking the mare.

   "I ride bikes," Daryl didn't look up from the path his sharp eyes were following, though he held out a hand to Zeppelin to steady her as they crossed a fallen log over a narrow stream.

"I'm guessing you dont mean 10 speeds," Aaron grinned, swatting a gnat away from his face.

Zepp snorted at the image of Daryl peddeling a bike, and he shot her a firm glare, though she could still see that hint of a smirk.

"With one of those little baskets on it? Some plastic daises maybe?" She teased.

Aaron cackled, and even Daryl cracked a smile, lightly shoving into her shoulder.

   The trio ambled in silence for a long moment, each of them appreciating different areas of the forest around them. Daryl watched the ground for any sign of the mare's movements, Aaron looked up to the sky glowing bright orange. And Zeppelin watched Daryl.

"Look, I know you guys might be feeling like outsiders here," Aaron pondered, trailing just behind them. "It's not your fault you know, even Eric and I are still outsiders in a lot of ways. We've heard our fair share of well meaning but hilariously offensive things from some otherwise really nice people," he scoffed.

"If they're even thinking those offensive things, they're not very nice people," Zepp argued.

Aaron smiled at her and shrugged. "People are people. The more afraid they get, the more stupid they get. Fear shrinks the brain. But they're scared of you and me for different reasons. They're less scared of me because they know me, it's less and less every day.. so just let them get to know you."

"We ain't got nothing to prove," Daryl grumbled through clenched teeth.

"Is that why you didn't go to the party?" Aaron pushed.

"I met a lot of bad people out here doing a lot of bad shit. They weren't afraid of nothing, and it didn't change nothing. Fear is fear, and it ain't my problem if they have it." Daryl stalked ahead, whistling when he found sufficient evidence that they were close.

The piercing squeal of the terrified horse kicked them all into a full sprint, thorns slicing their skin as they bolted through the woods. Zepp could hardly feel her boots fully touch the ground, yet it wasn't enough. They stumbled into another clearing and slowed to a halt, panting as sweat trickled down their necks.

  The mare squirmed and writhed in the grass, desperately trying to get away even as the walkers ripped her flesh from her bones. Two of the corpses twirled her intestines like spools of yarn, another dug it's rotting fingers into her cheeks and pulled at the thin flesh, while another simply gnawed on her shoulder as if it was a roasted turkey leg from the county fair. Blood poured and splashed over the greenery below her, staining the ground with dark crimson.

  Zepp couldn't stand it. She squeezed her eyes shut so tightly that they burned as she forced her head to turn, burying her face in Daryl's shoulder as the squealing and the sounds of the chomping of slippery flesh roared in her ears. She could feel him rest his chin on her skull, as if he needed the comfort just as much as she did in that moment.

  Then he pulled away, clearing his throat as he pulled the hunting knife from its loop on his belt. "Come on," he murmured, and dragged his fingers across her elbow as he headed towards the carnage.

  It took all of a minute to put the walkers down, still too entranced by the fresh blood in front of them to notice the trio coming from behind. When Zepp's knife hovered just above the mare's temple, Daryl's warm, large hand on her back kept her from teetering over the brink of sobbing.

  She met his piercing gaze, and he nodded to Aaron, who was staring at the horse on the ground with tears swimming at his waterline. His shotgun was already aimed, simply waiting for Zeppelin to step back before he pulled the trigger.

  And then it was over.

⤐

If he tried hard enough, the rumbling of the car distracted Daryl from his thoughts for most of the ride back to Alexandria. If he forced himself to focus on the tree line zipping by, the bouncing as they passed over potholes, and the grumbly purr of the engine, he didn't think too much about Zeppelin.

  He didn't think about the way the sun cast a glow over her hair, drawing his attention to the cinnamon and caramel strands he didn't normally see. No, he didn't even think about the way she buried her face into his skin, seeking out that comfort in him. He just kept focusing on the car. Though nothing really could stop him from stealing glances at her.

  She sat in the front next to Aaron, chatting about some movie they both had loved once upon a time. The flowing breeze through the open windows whipped her curls around her face and she tied it into a bun at the base of her neck. She tilted her head, checking her reflection in the passenger mirror, and her eyes locked onto his.

And they stayed there.

They stayed like that for a moment, eyes glued to each other through the reflection as they bounced along the country road. She was the first to break, nodding along absentmindedly to something Aaron asked her.

  Daryl shifted in his seat, one arm slung across the back and the other clutching his bow in his lap as he gazed out the window. The sooner this ride was over, the sooner he would feel the immense, burning pressure lift from his chest.

They followed the road down twists and turns until they finally the reached the large steel walls of Alexandria. The gate was open, and Daryl clutched his bow tighter, preparing himself for an attack. Instead, the van his family left in earlier this morning was rumbling just inside.

  An even stranger sight, Glenn beating a man to death outside of it.

"Stop!" Zepp jumped from the car before Aaron had fully stopped, hurtling herself through the gates to reach Glenn and the others before Daryl could catch up.

  She desperately pulled on Glenn's arm, who fully ignored her as he landed another sucker punch to the man's already bloody face, and she shot Daryl a pleading glance as she used all her strength. He grabbed Glenn's other arm and yanked him away, letting him collapse into Zepp, blood and tears streaming down his face as he sobbed and clutched at her arms.

Daryl could barely recognize him beneath the pools of blood drowning his features, but he knew it was Nicholas, who he almost beat to death himself. He was breathing, and that was a good sign, depending on why Glenn was beating him in the first place.

"Shh, shh," Zepp murmured, stroking Glenn's head and holding him tightly against her. "What happened? It's okay, tell me what happened."

"Ty- Tyreese.." Glenn spluttered, choking on his own spit. "He's gone. He's gone because of him!" He squirmed in Zepp's embrace, kicking out at Nicholas until his boot made contact with his ribs before he pulled away. "He only cared about saving himself, and damn who gets killed in the process!"

  He wiped a hand over his mouth, the tears finally subsiding, molting into rage. Others were beginning to come check out the action, sticking their heads out of doors or bounding down the street towards them.

"Tyreese," Zepp breathed, her voice cracking, and she faltered a step, leaning back against Daryl's shoulder.

"Glenn!"

Maggie was sprinting to her husband, frantic and confused as she zeroed in on the blood coating his shirt. "What happened? What's going on?"

Glenn shakily replayed the story to the surrounding listeners, some listening in sympathy, some in shock. Nicholas had opened a door to free himself and the walkers tore Tyreese to shreds as Glenn was forced to watch. Daryl glared at the pathetic, bloody heap on the ground, considering giving him a few good hits himself, only stopping when he noticed Eugene struggling to lift Tara, bandaged and bloodied herself, out of the van.

  Deanna came over along with Rick and Michonne, and the buzz around the crowd grew panicked and worried. Some men scooped Nicholas up from where he lay sprawled while others helped with Tara, and Rick followed them all to the infirmary, shooting Glenn a what the hell happened glance.

Sasha. Daryl searched for her in the crowd, wincing the moment he found her.

Tyreese's sister was on her knees just away from the group, sobs racking her body as she crumpled closer to the ground with each breath. Maggie crouched next to her, holding her tightly as she rocked back and forth. It did nothing to stop the cries escaping Sasha's lips as she begged and pleaded with God to trade places with her brother.

Zeppelin moved towards them, and before he could stop himself and think of what the hell he was doing, he wrapped a hand around her arm, twisting her around to face him and he cringed, releasing the hold that was far harder than he meant it to be.

"I need you to listen to me." The words were hardly above a murmur as he tried to force down the pleading in his tone. "When we're out there together, if I say run, run. If I tell you to leave me, then damn it, you leave and you don't look back."

"Daryl," she sighed softly, shaking her head.

"No, I mean it," he argued, encircling her wrist and jostling her a bit, begging her to listen. "I can't lose you. Not like that, not ever."

  His words were like lava bubbling in his throat, everything he had fought so hard to conceal was quickly rising to the surface. Fuck it. Any fear of rejection was overpowered by his need to make her understand. It wouldn't change how he felt, or the fact that he'd take on a thousand walkers if it kept her safe for even one more millisecond.

  "I need you around, Ace."

Her gaze was sharp and conflicted, searching for something, he didn't know what. Something like admiration shone there, though an edge of discernment marred it. He felt himself stop breathing, waiting for a pin to drop.

  Finally, a small smile broke the tight line of worry around her mouth, and she pulled her wrist from his grasp, the sudden loss of contact all but stabbing him in the heart. She quickly patched the wound when she laced her fingers through his, squeezing his hands as if they were a lifeline in an open, raging ocean.

"Always."