Daryl wasn't overly talkative during the run. Cecelia remembered that was why she liked him. No fuss, low-maintenance. There were few people who made silence feel comfortable. They were listening to a mix CD he'd found in the center console of the car they were driving in. It was mostly jazz, and she had to admit she was surprised he was giving it chance. He didn't seem like someone who would enjoy the likes of Ella Fitzgerald or Bobby Darin.

She hadn't asked many questions about where the two of them were going. He had mentioned that Rosita was planning on coming the day before, however, when she'd met him at 9:00 that morning he told her she wasn't tagging along. Cecelia saw her standing at the lookout tower at the gate. Apparently she didn't need to go.

"You like Alexandria?" he asked her, fumbling with the radio as they traveled along.

Cecelia thought for a moment. "It's growing on me," she answered honestly. She remembered when her and Francis had spent a few days there after they'd first run into the group. For some reason, it had been nerve-wracking and terrifying. But now she was more comfortable here than anywhere else. She would feel relatively safe if it weren't for Negan. "It was an adjustment."

Daryl didn't respond, but she knew he'd heard her. There was a lull between the two of them. "Are you from around here?" she asked.

"What?" he asked, confused and distracted by the road ahead.

"From Virginia?" she clarified, honestly curious. She supposed if they were going to go on a run, she might as well use the time to get to know him a bit better. He was a character.

Daryl shook his head. "Georgia. How about you?"

Georgia. That made his accent make a bit more sense.

"I grew up in West Virginia. But before all this I lived in New York City," she explained. She thought about her shitty old apartment in Upper Manhattan, then her nicer townhouse that she and Ari had moved into after they got married.

Daryl nodded. "How the hell'd ya learn all about medications?"

Cecelia shrugged. "It's what I studied in college. I have my PhD in Chemistry. I didn't really know what I'd do with it at first, but I just remember it fascinated me, so I pursued it."

Daryl grunted in response. "What did you do before all this?" she asked him, and he shrugged.

"Nothin' really. Just got into trouble with my brother."

"You have a brother?"

"Had," he answered, which made Cecelia clear her throat. She should have known better than to ask that.

"I see, I'm sorry," she corrected herself.

Daryl shrugged. "He was a son of a bitch."

Cecelia decided to stop asking questions, since it was too much already. They fell silent again, and she looked out the window to the woods rushing by on both sides, the occasional walker stumbling around on side of the road, slowly limping towards the car by not getting anywhere close as they sped by. Since Negan had been around, she had to admit she rarely saw walkers. The Saviors were at least good at that.

The opening notes to a familiar song rang out in her ears, and she felt herself sinking back against the leather seat with horror. Since Ari died she spent a lot of time thinking about him, wishing she could have at least properly said goodbye. She analyzed the last few conversations they'd had together, hoping she never had said anything to make him think she wasn't still pathetically head over heels for him.

He was on her mind, taunting her, almost constantly for the longest time, but in the past few months, she slowly found herself no longer dwelling. She could think about him without feeling intense pain, without seeing him behind her eyelids when she went to bed every night. She had moments where she was happy, brief moments when she forgot about how miserable she had felt for so long.

Some day, when I'm awfully low
When the world is cold
I will feel a glow just thinking of you
And the way you look tonight

That song was playing. In her head, maybe, or in real life. She could never tell. But that song could ruin every opportunity of her getting better, of her feeling normal, not wanting to constantly throw herself off every bridge or building she saw. Cecelia plugged her ears, leaning forward, clearing her throat. Her face was burning.

"Is that song really playing right now?" she shouted, hardly able to hear over her own voice.

"What? Yeah?" Daryl seemed confused, slowing down the car as Cecelia felt herself unraveling.

"That song….that song is killing me, please turn it off," she said in a weak, but low growl. She knew it wasn't Daryl's fault. But it was tearing her apart.

Daryl clicked one button on the radio and Cecelia felt the pain in her head instantly go away. She was still being haunted.

"You alright?" Daryl asked, pressing the accelerator to speed up again, but still eyeing her cautiously. Cecelia always kept such a blasé poker face that revealed absolutely nothing, but he was pretty sure he just witnessed her break down.

"Yeah," she cleared her throat and straightened up, tilting her head. "I'm fine. I just hate that song," her tone of voice gave nothing away, it was flat.

Daryl wasn't sure whether to pry or not, but there was no way a song she hated would cause such an intense reaction. "Ya sure that's it?" Daryl questioned again, concerned, wondering if she'd open up.

"We're not going to talk about this," she answered flatly, and the somewhat friendly demeanor she had held with him merely moments was gone. She closed herself off and they didn't talk for the rest of the ride.

Daryl pulled up to a convenience store he'd seen before that seemed relatively untouched. They needed food, and lots of it. And a way to hide it from Negan as well. Cecelia followed him, seeming alert. She was personally embarrassed about what had happened in the car, that she couldn't control herself.

Strangely enough, all the windows of the store were broken in, but inside remained relatively intact. Cecelia could see through the windows that there were plenty of canned goods on the shelves. When they got to the doors, Daryl whistled to see if there were any walkers inside. They heard some groaning, and some bumping around, but determined it was one that had gotten caught in the back of the store, so they decided to tread lightly.

"Careful," Daryl warned as he stepped inside with care. Shards of shattered glass were littered everywhere, sparkling and casting rainbows all over the inside of the darkened building when the sun caught them right. It was beautiful and terrifying at the same time.

They began to pile canned goods into the large plastic containers they had brought with them. They made trips in and out of the building and to the car, and Cecelia was always cautious when she exited. She didn't want to repeat what had happened merely a week before with Negan. She kept seeing the man clad in all black smiling at her as he ran off free. And if he was still with the same people, they'd know she was nearby. It was only a matter of time. Then she'd have bigger problems than just dealing with Negan every few weeks.

"Hey," Cecelia said when she found the walker in the back of the store near the refrigerators. The smell of spoiled milk was overpowering, and she stared at the broken glass that poked from the side of the metal frames. The walker was wearing a pair of pants that's belt had become stuck on the Employee's Lounge door handle, and it strained against it's captivator, becoming more active when she closed in. "I found the walker."

"Need help?" Daryl called from the opposite side of the store.

"I got it," Cecelia said confidently. She took her blade from it's place on her hip. Suddenly, the walker stalked forward, free from it's constraint. The belt had finally snapped, after years of stress. This took her off guard and she backed up quickly, not paying attention to where she was going.

As she pushed the blade into the decaying corpses skull, an excruciating pain ripped down the back of her calf. Cecelia shrieked at the unexpected sensation. She jerked her leg upwards and away to get away from whatever was causing the discomfort as the walker fell at her left foot.

"Fuck," She growled as Daryl approached after the commotion. Sitting on her butt, Cecelia surveyed the back of her calf and saw that one of the glass fragments the stuck out from the refrigerators had gashed into her calf, all the way from the back of her kneecap to the top of her ankle. She hissed in pain, reaching to touch the wound then pulling back. Cecelia didn't want to give herself an infection.

"Shit," Daryl muttered as he looked at the damage. "How did that happen?"

"I got taken off guard," she winced as she flexed her foot and tested to put weight on it. It felt okay, but still decently unpleasant.

Daryl stuck a hand out to her, and she accepted it graciously to raise herself back on her feet. "Can you walk?" he asked.

She grimaced. "Yeah, it's not so bad."

Daryl held out an arm for her to support herself with. "I'm fine," she assured him.

"Ya sure?" he asked.

She nodded. "Let's finish up." Warm blood was gushing down her leg, soaking the socks of her boots and pooling in their soles. As she walked forward, she felt her foot squish in the liquid. Daryl kept looking at her cautiously, but there wasn't much he could do to help, and they didn't have a medical kit near them.

Cecelia tried to ignore the pain that nagged at her as she help Daryl finish up, but it didn't take long until they were finally done. It was going to be a long ride home, but it felt better to sit down.

"Ya gotta get stitches," he mumbled once they were on the road and Cecelia leaned over to inspect the wound. It was still bleeding pretty badly, and the dark crimson liquid was slowly coloring her boots and leaking onto the passenger seat mat. It was gross. She wasn't particularly squeamish, but knowing that all of that blood was coming from her own body was making her feel lightheaded.

"Francis' wife was a nurse," she said lightly. "He knows how to do stitches."

Daryl remained quiet for the rest of the car ride, which she appreciated, because Cecelia was partly angry for getting injured, partly exhausted and dizzy. They arrived back at Alexandria after what felt like decades of driving, and Daryl pulled the car all the way up to her front step.

"Need help getting inside?" Daryl asked and Cecelia shook her head.

"I got it, but thanks."

"Take care," she mumbled as she cautiously stepped out, waving weakly as he pulled away. As quickly as she could, Cecelia got up the porch steps and inside. Francis was in the kitchen.

"What happened?" He asked, taking in her condition.

She shook her head. "I cut myself."

"Looks like it," he said, rising from his spot at the table and stepping towards her. "Let's go clean you up," he chuckled.

I'm excited for season 7 to start because I feel like I'm kind of stuck in limbo right now and I'd like to follow the show a bit, although I hope the show starts following the comics a little closer.

Next chapter: Negan shows up to Alexandria, but what kind of state will he find Cecelia in?

Anyways, thoughts? I'm debating whether to post the next chapter ASAP or wait until after the season premiere to get a better idea of what to do. Let me know, because for once I have the next chapter basically done!