Hello there! I've been a Walking Dead fan for a long time, and a fan of fanfiction longer than that. This is my first attempt at writing fanfiction, so reviews are super helpful, if you would be so kind. :) Fair warning, there will be adult themes, language, smut, and a few domestic violence situations (by way of flashbacks, NOT between Daryl and OC). This is also posted on AO3, I'm just working on transferring and formatting the chapters, so they can live here too. I hope you enjoy!
So It Goes
She lies on her back in the woods.
Staring at the sun streaming through the canopy of leaves and listening to the rustling wind and the birds surrounding her.
It's almost as though this new world is imagined. A distant memory, a nightmare only to be revisited in a passing thought. She hasn't seen any of the dead for a while. And it is here that she takes some time to reflect, a quiet moment in the chaos of what her life has become.
Aliana is Georgian born and bred. How she ended up in Virginia, in a once posh community, fortified to keep out the ugliness of the apocalypse, is beyond her. Now accustomed to the harsh reality of the new world, but she often wonders if this is why she spends most of her time beyond the walls instead of embracing the safety they provide.
Only one thing matters to her within them.
Aaron.
Even though he could hardly stand it there, they knew they needed a sort of home base. Somewhere they could reunite. Though she has her brother, she feels very alone. Aaron has Eric, his main tie to the community he still feels like an outcast in. However, Eric has yet to fully adapt to the pain and fear of their new life.
Still, they keep her coming back, keep her grounded somewhere instead of floating with the wind as she often does.
Clunky footsteps in the distance cause her to sit upright quickly. Scanning the trees, she notices a man, or what used to be a man, catch sight of what could potentially be food.
Her.
She looks at him lazily, observing his movements and sounds, fascinated by the way he noticed her and stupidly goes in for his soon to be unsuccessful kill. Deciding on the machete versus her knife, she crouches. She waits, she watches.
"Come on. Disgusting bastard." She says quietly.
He approaches, arms outstretched for a part of her to grasp, and in one fluid movement she springs up planting her machete down the middle of his skull. His arms go limp, he begins to fall as she plants her boot in his chest to give herself some leverage to extract her weapon.
Minimal splatter, little gore, maximum kill.
She looks upon his face, he was young, mid to late thirties.
"I'm sorry. I know you didn't ask for this."
With that, she wipes her blade on his shirt before shoving it back in its sheath. In that moment she made her mind up to head home. Her brother in her thoughts, she knew he'd be waiting.
The walls come into view.
She sees the painted sign, beckoning newcomers, promising safety, promising security. She's filthy, and she's weary, covered in blood not her own, long raven hair pulled back into a greasy bun. As she passes the ramshackle house just beyond the entrance she remembers what's hidden there.
Guns. Her own guns acquired on her journeys.
Within the walls guns are confiscated. It makes her feel like a child, like she can't handle them, though she considers herself much more experienced with the dead than at least 85% of the people who reside there. Still, she dutifully hands her pistol over every time she returns, keeping in her mind what's also hidden in the floorboards of her bedroom. It's then that she is noticed by a young resident passing by the gate. His approaching footsteps pull her from her thoughts, a place she has spent the majority of her time for the last 3 weeks.
"Ali?" He calls.
She looks up, nods, and waits for entry. As the gate slides open, she is greeted by a young man of nearly twenty.
"You missed some interesting shit. Took in a new group a few days ago." He says quietly but excitedly, as though he's afraid someone might hear.
"Oh yeah?" She asks somewhat indifferent.
"Yeah, they looked about as rough as you do!" He says with a slight chuckle.
She looks at him blankly, then turns and heads toward the armory. Leaving him to wonder where she has been, what she has seen, and why she hardly ever says anything.
Olivia greets her in the garage of the house turned armory/communal pantry.
"Hey Olivia." Ali says with a hint of the southern twang of her youth.
"Come to check your weapons?" Olivia replies. "I know you hate it Ali, but it's not my rule."
"It's fine. Hey listen, Jonathan said something about a new group, my brother around?"
"Hmm, oh yeah! He left this morning, shadowing one of them, trying to figure these people out. They're a bit rough around the edges. He should be back tonight though."
"Thanks Olivia, just the one pistol. See ya around."
Leaving her pistol with Olivia, Ali decides to make her way to her brothers house, to her home. It's a warm day, the sun making her feel uncomfortable in jeans and boots, and now that she can be less on edge, the severe exhaustion and sleep deprivation really hits her.
She sees Jessie out in her garage and decides to stop and talk a minute, she was one of the only females in the community Ali could relate to.
"So, what are you working on now?" She says, effectively startling Jessie, who always seemed to be slightly on edge
"Ali! My god, you scared me to death!" She says laughing. "When did you get back? Are you staying longer this time?"
Ever the mother, Jessie feels a great deal of concern for Ali's inability to stay within the safety of the walls. She takes in her somewhat haggard and exhausted appearance with caution.
"Just got back not too long ago. I'm going home, having a smoke, then going to my room to sleep a couple of days. Got it all planned out."
"Well you look utterly exhausted. And starving."
"I'm fine Jessie. I promise. I'm definitely tired, and I'm sure Eric is cooking tonight so once I emerge from this coma I'll eat."
"Hey, if you feel up for it, there's a get together tonight at the Monroe's. A sort of welcome to the community party…"
"For this new group I keep hearing about I assume?"
"Yes. I've met the majority of them, by and large they're nice. Some of them look like they have seen some shit, but it's good they're here. They have experience in the outside world, something most of us are lacking."
"I'll see how I feel later, you know I'm not much for social gatherings. Even ones that include spaghettios and warm beer."
As Ali goes to leave, Jessie calls after her.
"We've missed having you around. Aaron especially. When you're gone, he can't stand being here. He found the group out looking for you. Please don't stay out so long again, we were starting to worry."
Ali looks back, her bright amber eyes glinting in the afternoon sunlight, and nods in understanding.
"Okay mom…" She says with a devilish grin on her face. Jessie smirks and turns back to her work. Heading back through the alley to the back door of the home she shares with her brother and his partner, Ali lights a fresh cigarette. She's already daydreaming about her room and the safe solitude she will find there.
Waking up hours later in the large chair in her bedroom, Ali finds herself groggy, disoriented, and disgustingly filthy. She can smell food and hear movement in the house below her.
Standing up stiff and sore, she walks over to her drawers to grab some jean shorts and her oldest, most comfortable flannel shirt before sneaking out of her room to the shower.
Downstairs, Aaron hears Ali walking from her room to the bathroom, then the shower cut on. He shoots Eric a knowing look before turning to their guest.
"My uh, sister is back. She usually goes upstairs to sleep a few hours before cleaning up. It's her homecoming ritual." Aaron says. "You'll like her, I think you might be similar in some ways."
"This the sister you were looking for when ya found us?" The guest asks.
"The very one."
After a very hot shower and a fresh change of clothes, Ali feels better. She towel dries her long dark hair before chucking the towel on the bed and making her way downstairs.
The air smells of spaghetti sauce and the atmosphere is light. She stops in the hallway at the sound of Aaron and Eric talking to someone.
"Fuck." She mutters. Meeting new people always reminds Ali how terribly uncomfortable she is in her own skin.
"Aliana?" Aaron calls out.
Having been found, she straightens up to pretend to be confident when walking in the room. There seated at the table, with plates of glorious smelling food, are Aaron, Eric, and a stranger.
She stares, longer than she probably should, at the guest.
His dark hair covers his eyes and he sits leaning over his plate, eating somewhat primitively. He looks up and his light blue eyes catch hers, causing her to immediately shift her focus to Aaron, as he gets up to wrap his sister in a warm embrace.
"We were worried Aliana. Three weeks and we hear nothing from you? It's too long." He somewhat scolds, with a hint of pleading for her to reconsider leaving again.
"I know, Jessie told me. I'm sorry."
"We'll talk later, sit down next to Daryl there and I'll bring you a plate." He moves to go fix her a plate as she cautiously goes to take the empty seat next to the guest, whose name was apparently, Daryl.
"Daryl and his group joined us a few days ago. I found them while out looking for… while I was scouting. I assume the rest of the group is at the Monroe's but we have determined parties aren't Daryl's thing, ours either."
Daryl let out a sort of grunted laugh that seemed to confirm his distaste for social gatherings.
"I don't blame you." She says, directed at Daryl but staring at her hands on the table. "Bunch of stepford wives and their clueless husbands. The kids are okay though." Her intent is to sound sarcastic and slightly humorous, but the bitterness of the statement shines through.
Daryl stops eating and turns just slightly to look at her, a look of quiet contemplation on his face for a moment before taking a few long swigs from his wine glass.
She feels heat from her embarrassment creeping up her cheeks as her gaze lingers on Daryl quickly downing his glass of wine.
His senses are assaulted by the smell of eucalyptus and lavender as she flips her damp hair back over her shoulders when Aaron sets her plate in front of her.
She's the sweetest thing he's smelled in a good long while.
"Thanks…" Daryl says as he wipes his mouth in his sleeve.
"Oh!" Eric suddenly speaks up, turning to Daryl "When you're out there, if you happen to be in a store or something, Mrs Neidermeyer is really looking for a pasta maker, and we're all really trying to get her to shut up about it. I mean, we have crates, of dried pasta in here but she really wants to make her own or something. I really think she just wants something to talk about, so… If you see one, on your travels, it would really go a long way to… " he trails off as Aaron gives him a wide eyed look.
Ali sits there quietly, mouth full, looking from face to face, waiting for someone to say something to ease the awkwardness of the moment.
"I thought it was done," Eric says sheepishly. "you didn't, ask him already."
Aaron returns the revelation with a silent shake of the head.
"Ask me what."
Ali silently rises and takes her plate to the counter. She's decides she'll finish eating later, but for now, she has to know where this conversation will go. She dips out the back door for a smoke as she hears Daryl and Aaron moving towards the garage, but stays within earshot as she's intrigued by this stranger of so few words.
Aaron flips on the garage light illuminating the room full of motorcycle parts and a mostly intact bike. Daryl steps closer to it for a better look as Aaron explains how it was there in the house when they moved in and he figures after their conversation earlier in the day, Daryl would know what to do with it.
"You see, you're going to need a bike. I'd like you to be Alexandria's new recruiter. I don't want Eric risking his life anymore. Sometimes Aliana goes with me, but I can't always count on her to be in town. She's sort of, a free spirit, I guess."
"So you want me risking mine…" Daryl says quietly.
"Well, yeah. You can tell the difference between good people and bad people, and you know what you're doing. You don't belong out there, but I understand the need to be out there sometimes, I feel it too. Hell, my own sister can't stay put."
Daryl silently nods taking in the gravity of this request.
"Yeah. I'll do it. I ain't got nothin' better to do anyways."
Aaron's face brightens. Nodding and looking thoroughly relieved, he accepts Daryl's answer.
"And, I'll get you some rabbits…" Daryl says, his tone and mood softening at once.
Hearing the whole exchange Aliana can't help but smile.
She watches from the darkness of the yard as Daryl inspects the motorcycle parts and Aaron explains where he found the various parts along his travels.
He's filthy, but she's captivated by his beautiful face. His expressions are telling of someone who has experienced a lifetime of horrors in a short few years. He's quiet, contemplative, and doesn't give more information than necessary when he speaks. His soft, gravely voice gives her chills when she hears it, a feeling she hasn't felt in years. She wonders why she's instantly attracted to him, what it is about him exactly that's causing her to feel this way.
She knows getting involved with someone in the community is a mistake, a mistake she's already made.
And been burned by.
Daryl looks toward the opening of the garage where he notices a large well worn, olive colored, duffle bag with a bow and quiver of arrows in bad shape.
"Those belong to your sister?" Daryl asks.
"Yeah, not her number one weapon, but I know she's pretty decent with it. The other ladies around here take pride in what casseroles they can make with only canned goods, Aliana prides herself in learning to use any weapon she can get her hands on. I found that bow shortly after we settled in here, and even though it's always with her beyond the walls, I'm fairly certain she still sneaks out to practice while she's home."
Daryl nods, a look of consideration on his face.
They finish their conversation about his new job and as he goes to leave, he catches the smell of Aliana's cigarette. He can't help but look into the darkened back yard area where the only light is the glowing ember she holds.
"Want one?" She asks quietly, holding the pack out to Daryl.
He shrugs and accidentally brushes her cold fingers with his warm ones as he takes a cigarette for himself. She feels her stomach flip with excitement.
"Thanks." He says, muffled by the filter held between his lips. He pulls out a silver lighter and lights his cigarette, taking a long draw.
"I found a carton while I was on the road. They're stale as shit, but if you ever need a smoke, you know where to find me." She stubs the short out in the ash tray and walks over to collect her bag and bow.
He watches her, in cut off shorts and a long, very oversized flannel. Her hair is loose and still damp. A curtain of dark waves, cascading down her back. Her body is tall, and thin, but somewhat muscular. She would be stronger given the right nutrition, but he knows what it's like out there, when you often don't know when your next meal will be. She moves with such grace and confidence, he wonders if she can actually hunt. He looks back to the arrows as a way of breaking his concentration on her.
"Your arrows look like shit. What'd you do to 'em?"
Bright amber eyes look up at him, drawing him in like a helpless moth, to a warm, inviting flame.
"Killed my dinner on multiple occasions, took out a ton of roamers. Im not a perfect shot." She picks up her belongings and heads back in the garage door. "Goodnight Daryl." She says with a timid smile, and closes the door behind her leaving him in the garage with his thoughts.
Inside the door, Aliana stands there wondering if Daryl The Stranger is still there with the same sort of dumbfounded expression she wears.
Yes, she's attracted to him. Things in Alexandria have been rather dull, leading to her boredom and desire for the excitement involved with meeting a man.
But, when is it actually appropriate in this life to become involved with someone? When is it safe? When can she give herself away and not be fearful one or the other will not return from the horrors outside?
Would he, or anyone, even want her? Desperate for company and attention, she resigns herself to, at the very least, learn more about the man of very few words. What could it hurt anyway?
Daryl silently turns and walks back to the house his group is occupying. He tries to focus on the fact that he tried fitting in, and with a new job in the community, he's actively continuing to try. His mind, however, keeps returning to the woman, her simple understated beauty, and the fact that she didn't look at him and focus on his filthy appearance.
He isn't used to such a feeling of attraction from a woman. He's used to being overlooked by women altogether. Either that, or feared. His experience with women is nonexistent, aside from a hooker Merle got him on his 21st birthday and some fast fucks with women from bars.
These are uncharted territories for Daryl, and just that brief dinner was enough to scare the shit out of him.
Trying with all of his mental strength to focus on the positive, he feels like she's different than most.
Something in the way she looks at him.
Most importantly, she didn't pretend like he wasn't there.
No.
She saw him, and he saw her.