Hello everyone! This is my first TWD FanFiction, so please, be nice! I'm really doing this with all my heart!

The story will be adventurous, but also deeply emotional. It's about past mistakes that still haunt people, loss, family, and love.

I want to share it with you, and I sincerely hope you enjoy reading it as much as I'm enjoying writing it. I have many plans for this story. Any comments and reviews are always welcome -this is what makes all of us better after all. I have spent a great deal of time planning the story, so I guarantee there won't be any annoying plot holes and everything will be explained sooner or later.

Now, this is just the prologue, so it's a little short. I just want to keep the mystery going. Thank you again in advance if you're spending time to read!

Enjoy!

Prologue - A Ghost Coming Back

It felt like the outpost had simply sprouted there, in the middle of that barren hill, like a lonely tree.

Rick gazed at it, narrowing his eyes. According to Dwight, it should be easy to bring down. Simple fence, only four vehicles, as they could see. Possibly twenty people inside -at most. It really seemed suspiciously innocent… suspiciously easy.

He rubbed his eyes and took a deep breath. He had learned to always assume the worst-case scenario. Nevertheless, Dwight had proven true to his word so far, helping them tremendously in all of this -even though he still didn't trust him enough to say such a thing in front of him.

He glanced at Aaron, thirty feet away, hiding behind an old, broken car. He motioned to the fence. Aaron nodded in agreement and raised his gun, prepared for anything that was to come up.

"Daryl, you guys on spot?" he spoke quietly to the radio in his free hand.

"Yep. Waiting for your call"

"This is it. You're on. In 3… 2… 1"

Remaining safely enough behind the car, he stood and opened fire. As soon as he did so, Aaron did the same. The others followed as well. They watched the windows shatter, and soon after people on the inside started to fire back at them. He shot a few more times and then bent down and nodded for Aaron to do the same. Very soon, the only ones firing were the Saviors. Those started to fade out as well, and he could vaguely hear people yelling and screaming. More gunfire -much more- but this time on the inside of the building. And then silence.

He waited for a few seconds before he raised the radio again:

"Daryl, everything done?"

No answer. He waited a few seconds. Aaron and the others looking at him, waiting. Agony. Something went wrong?

"Daryl?" he asked again, nervously this time.

Nothing.

He turned and looked at the building, almost holding his breath. He could see some movement behind the broken glass. He heard a voice raising above the others, but he couldn't tell to whom it belonged to. He was ready to speak again, when he heard Daryl's voice:

"We're done. They're down. Come on in"

He closed his eyes in relief. He stood up and waved for the others to follow him, guns and riffles still in their hands. No injuries, as far as he could see.

"Let's go", he shouted.

Dwight was right this time as well. This was ridiculously easy.

This secluded keep acted as a warehouse for the Saviors. They stored medical supplies and consumables, both regular and rare. This would definitely be a hit they wouldn't expect, since very few people knew about this place, and they believed that their first priority would be killing as many of them as possible. It was Ezekiel's idea to start "depriving them from vital supplies", as he said. In a war, losing such things is a major loss. It was a damn good suggestion, one that Rick gladly embraced.

Their plan wasn't complicated: divided in two groups, his own on the outside, attacking the settlement, while the second sneaked in through the garage, to which Dwight had provided them with the keys. While they were terrified, trying to fight his own group, Daryl's would take them by surprise.

He kicked the door open and walked in, realizing this was yet another fine success. Daryl, Eric and the others standing, pointing their guns to the people in front of them, who were on their knees. Ten of them, and he quickly counted about four dead ones near the windows. Much less than he had expected.

He casually put his rifle on the floor and came to stand right in front of them, hands resting on his waist.

"I believe you know who I am by now", he said. "Who we all are. I, for one, don't recall having ever seen anyone of you before. Now… is someone managing this place?"

A girl on his right pointed with her head towards the nearest window. Lying on the floor in front of it was the figure of a man, half his face completely gone, his blood and brains spread on the floor. He casually raised his shoulders.

"Well… is there anyone that would like to speak for all of you?"

He watched them. They all looked upon the same girl. She didn't seem particularly fond of that. Nevertheless, she stood up, crossing her hands, looking oddly proud and fierce, despite her current situation. Not arrogant or sarcastic, like most of the Saviors he had met, but serious, and dignified in her defeat, looking like she fully understood the situation she was into, and preparing herself for whatever was about to come. This impressed him a little.

"Your name is?" he asked.

She said nothing for a few seconds, looking at him with a blank expression. Then her eyes moved and settled on Daryl.

"Ask him. He would know" she said dryly.

He glanced at him, baffled, and realized in surprise that he had gone pale as hell. He was clenching his teeth, his fingers moving slightly nervously on the crossbow.

"Joy", the girl finally said.

He turned at her again, deciding he was going to discuss this later.

"How old are you, Joy?" he asked her. "You look young"

She rolled her eyes on the ceiling and sighed, clearly letting him know she wouldn't be into whatever bullshit he was about to say.

"Twenty-seven"

She looked even younger than that, he thought.

"Well… here's how things are: you can live another twenty-seven years -and more, for that matter- if you play your cards right. Or say your goodbyes to this world right now. It's completely up to you"

"Completely up to me, is it? You're the ones holding the guns"

"You can hold a gun again as well. As long as it's not against us"

She didn't think for more than a second, a faint, unhappy smile rising on her lips.

"I think I'll pass, Rick. I cannot speak for the rest of my company, though. Guys, anyone willing to hold a gun… not against Rick?"

The sarcasm was smart enough to make him smile a little bit. It vaguely reminded him of someone else. Nobody moved. Nobody spoke. Somebody chuckled. A short-haired forty-year-old woman beside her spat on the floor, in front of him.

"Well… it looks like you're going to have to spend some more bullets, Rick"

"We wish we didn't have to"

"I don't believe that for a second"

She spoke calmly, not raising her voice one bit, not showing fear. Brave girl, he thought. It really didn't please him, the fact that he had to do that.

"I prefer standing, if you don't mind" she said calmly.

"Hey" he heard Daryl's voice.

He turned and looked at him. He still had that weird look on his face. Not fear, nor concern. He really couldn't say. He walked with him to the door, away from the others.

"Don't"

"Don't what?"

"Kill her. Don't"

"Who the hell is she, Daryl? Where do you know her from, the Sanctuary?"

"No. Never saw her there"

"Where, then?"

Daryl's eyes set on the horizon, and it seemed like he simply didn't want to meet his own look.

"We could just…"

"What, let her go back to Negan? That's what she's going to do"

He sighed, and lowered his voice even more.

"Look, if you can just tell me why, then maybe…"

His sentence was abruptly cut off by the sound of a scream. They instantly turned to the others, raising their gun and crossbow, only to see a muscular man -one of their prisoners-having managed to tackle one of their own on the floor. As three guns instantly fired at the Savior, Sheldon was used as a human shield, and took all three of them. Next thing they knew, the girl, Valerie, had reached to her left boot and had drawn out a knife, with which she -admirably swiftly- slashed on Kelly's calf, causing her to scream and fall on her knees. She instantly grabbed on her gun, as the rest of the Saviors also rushed on a fight they knew they wouldn't win -two of them went down instantly.

"Joy, get out of here!" roared the woman that had spat on him earlier. "Run, now! RUN!"

It seemed like she hesitated for a moment, but the door was clear now. She wouldn't get another chance like that. She ran towards it. Rick couldn't get a clear shot. He shot at her twice, and twice he failed. Daryl also aimed, but never took the shot. As if his fingers had frozen upon the crossbow.

"Don't let her get away! Go!" Rick screamed at him before he pointed his gun on the muscular Savior, shooting him down.

/*******/

Daryl ran behind her. Not much unlike the first -and last- time he had done this, so long ago.

It still felt so unreal. He almost felt nauseated, and certainly lost. Lost in every way possible. Was it real? Was this really happening? Or was she a ghost from the past?

No. No ghosts here, not in this world. She was alive. Alive. Somehow, she had survived as the world ended, coming back to haunt him. And now he had to put her down.

He saw her in the nighttime darkness, heading towards the fence. For a second there, he thought she briefly looked back. He wasn't wrong. She shot at him, twice. One of bullets actually came dangerously close. Heard whistle as it passed next to his ear. Could she see it was him? Probably not, or she would have shoot him again. And again. And again.

It wasn't a choice: he had to do this. He couldn't let her go. He shouldn't.

Yet… something inside him desperately wanted to let her go. Give her the time to get away. When he raised his crossbow, he aimed to bring her down -not to kill. But even so, somewhere deep inside, he wished he missed.

He didn't.

Her yell when the arrow hit her kicked him in the guts. She fell on the ground, and for some gruesome moments, his heart sank, until he realized she was still moving. The scream that followed let him know that she had probably pulled the arrow out. She was soon back on her feet, racing -considerably slower- for the fence. It was too late when she turned back to look. He had already reached her. She raised the gun in her hand, but he was fast enough. He grabbed on her wrist and the physical fight started. She put on quite a resistance, especially for someone that had been injured, but she was no match for him on this context.

"Drop it!" he shouted trying to make her drop the loaded gun. "Drop it now, or…"

She kicked him on his leg, in a final try to escape. It hurt unexpectedly much. Enough to make him kneel, but not enough to let go. Grabbing her jacket, he managed to pull her on the ground as well, and towards him. He grabbed on her wrists to restrain her as she kept fighting him defiantly, but far more weakly now.

"That's enough, quit it!" he shouted at her. "STOP IT!"

He held both of her wrists in one hand, pinning them on her side on the ground, when she suddenly groaned in pain, and he felt her collapsing completely, almost giving up. His eyes fell upon the side of her jacket, which was ripped, blood pouring from inside of it.

"Joy! Joy, listen to me! LISTEN! You're losing blood, stop fighting! It's done. It's done"

She curled up in fetal position, breathing heavily and trembling, remaining silent, denying him even a single look. Something broke inside him, seeing her like this. His free hand awkwardly moved to stroke her hair in an impulse. Hurting her physically was probably the only way he had never hurt her before.

Yes. It was done. This had ended… a long time ago.

Please, let me know if you like it!