note: Sorry for the delay, but here's the epilogue.

Don't own MSB or The Walking Dead or the title.

Enjoy!

under cover of darkness
by the ultimateSora

epilogue
arya underfoot

Monday, December 2, 2013
The Baton Rouge Safezone

Finding her father and step-mother had kept Phoebe sane for a short time. The Baton Rouge Safezone had proper medical care, so her pregnancy wouldn't be a possible death sentence, as may have been in Rhode Island. Knowing she would give birth to a healthy baby with doctors around her also kept Phoebe sane. The moment she first saw her baby that December...that was when she began to unravel.

Phoebe named her Arya Ann, after Arya Stark and her best friend, and the whole time she had been pregnant, she had hoped Arya would look mostly Terese. The bit of orange hair and her bright blue eyes were not good signs. As Arya grew, she continued to look less and less Terese. The only thing Terese about her was her pudgy, upturned nose and freckles. Everything else about her appearance was purely and painfully Perlstein: Her orange curls, her fair skin, her eyes, her facial shape. Fortunately, her light blue eyes were the warm, loving ones of Arnold, not the icy, callous ones of Janet.

The first time Phoebe swore she saw him was the night Arya had been born. For a split second, a faint figure stood over Arya's bassinet, but he was gone when Phoebe blinked. The apparition didn't frightened her, so she knew it had to be Arnold. Not long after that, she would see him stand over Arya's crib or she would smell his cologne before she fell asleep. She never told her family, knowing they would take her visions the wrong way. She didn't need them knowing she was seeing her dead husband.

Phoebe woke the morning of December 2, 2013 when she felt someone jump on her bed. She opened her eyes to see a beaming Arya dressed in her jeans, hi-top boots, leather jacket over a thermal shirt, and an old, dirty New York Mets cap that was passed from Ralphie to their brother Robb to Arya.

She smiles just like her father.

"It's my birthday!" Arya cheered.

Phoebe smiled and rubbed her eyes. "What time is it, baby girl?"

"Uh, I dunno. Five-something?"

She sat up and gestured for Arya to come closer. She pulled her in a hug and moved the cap to kiss her head. "Happy birthday, my little Arya Underfoot."

Arya reached up and ran her finger along the scar going from the corner of Phoebe's mouth towards her ear. "Are we goin' huntin' today? You promised."

Phoebe smiled. "Of course we are."

"Will I get cool scars, too?"

"Hopefully not. I didn't get these from hunting, you know."

Arya knew how her mother got each scar, but she didn't know the full details. She knew the long one on the left was from a car accident. Someone gave her the one she touched, and a hard fall gave her the ones on her lips and forehead. The scar near her mother's hip was from an arrow impaling her, which Arya found awesome that her mother survived something like that, and the scar on her scalp was from a bullet grazing her. The scars on her back, however...her mother never spoke of those. She also knew her mother's nose was crooked from it getting broken. The same person that gave her the cheek scar also cut off her finger, and she knew Uncle Ralphie cut off half of her mother's ear because of a mauler scratch.

"You got them from being 'badass,' as Uncle Ralphie would say."

Phoebe smiled and tapped Arya's lips. "Watch your language. Uncle Ralphie can say 'badass' because he's an adult."

"Robb's only fifteen, and he talks like that." Since Arya and Robb were only eight years apart, he was more like a big brother than an uncle.

Phoebe winked. "I'm not Robb's mother." She let go of Arya and got up. "If you're all cleaned up, go set the table and get the oatmeal out while I get ready, and then I'll cook us some breakfast."

Arya hopped off the bed. "Okay."

Arya walked out of her mother's bedroom and went to the kitchen of their little house. Sitting on the table, as usual, was her mother's large, all-black crossbow. Beside it was a smaller pink camo-patterned crossbow with a scope. There was a bow on it and a card beside it. Arya's eyes widened, and she let out a cheer as she took the card.

Happy birthday, baby girl. Hope you like this crossbow.

Love, Momma

Arya picked up the crossbow and looked it over. There were no arrows in the quiver, nor was it loaded, so she pulled the bow back and shot it. She had seen her mother use her crossbow enough times to know how to use one. She heard her mother's boot steps echo on the hardwood floor behind her.

"D'you like it, Arya Underfoot?"

Arya turned and looked up at her smiling mother. "I love it!"

"Maybe later today, after we hunt, I'll show you how to make your own arrows."

"Really? Awesome!"

Phoebe reached in her jeans pocket. "I do have one more gift for you." She held up a ring on a thin leather strap. "This was your daddy's ring. I thought, if you wanted, I'd give it to you so you could have a bit of him with you."

Arya nodded and took the necklace, putting it on. "Thanks, Momma."

Phoebe bent down to kiss Arya's head after she moved the cap. "You're welcome. Now, how about some oatmeal before we hunt?"

Phoebe and Arya managed to get a good sized deer and a few fat rabbits they could sell in the market. Phoebe slowed the truck as they approached the Mississippi River Gate. The armored guard motioned them through, and Phoebe waved a thanks. Arya pressed her nose against the glass, her nostrils being pulled up, as they began the ascent towards the Horace Wilkinson Bridge. This was her favorite part. She loved seeing the Mississippi River down below as her mother drove them across.

Most of the highway signs remained including the three before they drove under the steel beams of the cantilever bridge:

HORACE
WILKINSON
BRIDGE

MISSISSIPPI
RIVER

E BATON ROUGE
PARISH

The exit sign for LA 30 that was above was also still there, though it was hanging crooked. "TO LSU," it said. The Louisiana State University campus was still there, though it didn't serve as a university anymore. Phoebe knew the scientists and doctors there were working on a mauler cure, still. Mikey Ramon was working there, too, but he was in developing aides for those who lost limbs from mauler attacks.

The prosthetics were either made to be second weapons or for everyday use as a replacement limb. He also dabbled in cybernetics, wanting to make ways for people to have working artificial limbs. He already made braces for his legs to help him walk, Phoebe always in awe when she saw the sleek machinery attached to Mikey's legs and back. He was still working on getting the mechanical braces to work when he tried running. Mikey was still limited in his movement, but he loved being able to stand his full six feet and one inch.

Carlos and Keesha worked as Safezone patrol guards on the gates and barriers, killing any maulers they saw. Both loved what they did, since they got to kill monsters almost every day. Ralphie had done guard work for a while, but now he was a top training officer, teaching new recruits all he knew about maulers, from what turns a person in to one to how to kill them. Phoebe knew he loved the job. At fifteen, Robb was too young to work as a guard, so he worked alongside his mother at the hospital. Keesha had predicted right: He was tall, but he was lanky like Phoebe, not burly like Ralphie.

"Now that I got to hunt," Arya said, "will you teach me how to ride a motorcycle?"

Phoebe smiled. "One dangerous thing at a time."

She drove to downtown to the market that prepared the deer meat. She sold them half of the deer, knowing she and Arya wouldn't need that much, and they packed the rest for them. They went home, and Arya carried the crossbows as Phoebe took the packed meat. Arya put her mother's crossbow on the kitchen table, and she took her own out to the backyard to do some target practice with the targets her mother built years ago.

Phoebe put the packed meat in the freezer, and she went to her bedroom to sit for a moment before taking a shower. She stopped in the doorway when she smelled that familiar cologne. "Arnold? Arnold, please, if you're here, just say so. You've been doing this to me for seven years. Just...just show yourself to me."

Her window was open a crack, and a breeze blew in, moving the curtains. She closed the door behind her, and she sat down on her bed. She picked up the framed photo on her bedside table, the same photo that had sat beside Arnold's bed. "Arnold, just...I- you know I'll always love you, and I'll never be over your death. If you're here with me, just- please- show yourself to me."

Another breeze blew in, and she swore she heard a faint voice, Move...on...

"I can't move on," she sobbed, still looking at the photo. "I- I knew you were dead when I went after you, but I- I- I never thought I'd find you as a mauler...that I'd have to be the one to put you out of your misery. I know you thought you were saving me, but you- you broke me. And not having Dorothy Ann anymore- I lost you, my best friend, and another friend that sacrificed himself for me. If it wasn't for Arya, I'd have given up so long ago."

Phoebe set the photo down and laid back on the pillows. She closed her eyes and heard the breeze blow through the open window. She drifted off to sleep, her body suddenly feeling light, as if she was floating. She opened her eyes when she felt her feet on solid ground. She was surrounded by darkness. I'm dreaming.

Three faintly glowing figures suddenly appeared, walking closer towards her. She gasped when she saw their faces. I'm definitely dreaming.

"Phoebe, promise me you'll stop feeling bad for my death," Tim said. "I did what I did to save a friend, and I sure as hell would do it all over again, if given the chance."

"But-"

He cut her off. "No. My death was not your fault. Never was, never will be."

With that, he stepped back and faded away. Dorothy Ann stepped closer, and Phoebe could see that she had her left arm and hand back. "You're a wonderful mother, sister, daughter, and friend. There was a reason you lived, Phoebe...and her name is Arya Ann Perlstein. You survived so she could live, too. Don't dwell on the 'what if's and 'what could have been's. You, Ralphie, Keesha, Carlos, Mikey, and Robbie are all happy and healthy, and that's all I could ask for."

Before Phoebe could cry out that she needed her, she faded away. All that was left was Arnold. He smiled at her as he stepped closer. "I told you I'd come back to you. Granted, I came back in a way in the form of our little girl. She's perfect, Phoebe, just like you."

"No, she's perfect like you."

"Then she's perfect like both of us," he said with a chuckle. "If my death meant you and Arya would live, then I'd do everything like I did over again. I kind of had a feeling you were pregnant, so I had to make sure you would survive."

"I forgive you, Arnold," she blurted. "For everything. I'm just sorry I couldn't tell you when you were alive."

"It's fine, Phoebe. Don't be sorry. You have nothing to be sorry for. I fucked up in life, not you."

"I love you."

"I love you, too, but you need to move on, Phoebe. I'll be here, waiting for you, but I want you to come when you've lived a long full life alongside Arya. I want to wait here eighty, ninety years, okay? Promise me you won't do anything foolish. I want you to grow old and gray, die comfortably in your bed. You have that opportunity now, to live a long, happy life in this Safezone. And if you meet a guy that makes your heart go all a pitter-patter, go for it."

She shook her head. "Not when I still love you."

He smiled. "I wasn't so great, Phoebe, and you know it. I'll always be around, making sure you and Arya are all right, but eventually, I'll have to move on, too."

She reached out and took his hands. "Don't leave me. I can't lose you again."

"Valar Morghulis...'all men must die,' but you and Arya aren't men, so live. Live, Phoebe!"

Phoebe's eyes shot open. She was alone in her bedroom, but she felt lighter, somehow. The tight feeling in her chest she always had seemed to be gone, and her body didn't feel exhausted or bogged down from guilt and stress. She turned towards her door when she heard a knock.

"Momma?"

"Come in, baby girl."

Arya stepped in, and she set her crossbow on the floor before climbing up on the bed. "Are you okay?"

Phoebe nodded and put her arm around Arya as she laid down beside her. "I'm all right, Arya."

Arya rested her head on her mother's shoulder. "You were thinkin' of Daddy, weren't you?"

"How'd you know?"

"You have that same look you get when you see a picture of him or hear his name or when it's his birthday. He musta really been somethin' if you're still sad about him dyin'."

Phoebe sighed. "He was something. He really was. I knew him since we were eight, and we were together romantically for three years. We were married for such a short time, but it was the only bright spot among the nightmare we were living in."

"What was it like?"

Phoebe had told her that the north wasn't like the Safezone, but she never went in depth about it. "There was nowhere safe from those monsters. The cities weren't like here in the Safezone. Most had been abandoned or bombed out. Living day to day not knowing if you or your friends would live or not. We're very fortunate here in the Safezone, Arya. Remember that."

"I will, Momma."

Phoebe kissed her head and held her tight. "I love you so much, my little Arya Underfoot. You are the best thing to happen to me in this new world."

"I love you, too, Momma." Arya smiled at her. "You're the coolest, most toughest momma any girl could ask for."

"I'm not too scary looking?"

"Nope! I like your scars. I know that my momma can fight off anything that could hurt us because she's tough. None of the other girls I know could say that."

Phoebe knew she looked different from a lot of the other young women in the Safezone, but that was because of her experiences in the "untamed north," as people in the Safezone would call it. Most people there, aside from the guards, had never fought off maulers or even knew what to do if they did face one, whereas Phoebe didn't hesitate to slam her knife into one's head.

"You're also the best momma a girl could ask for," Arya said, hugging her tighter. "Even if Daddy can't be here with us, I'm glad I have you."

Phoebe smiled and felt her eyes water. "Oh, if your daddy were alive, he'd spoil you so bad you'd never want to hunt."

Arya laughed. "Nuh uh! I'd always want to hunt!"

If the apocalypse had never happened but Arya had been born anyway, Phoebe knew she'd be a very different girl. She would have either been the reserved bug collecting girl Phoebe had been or she would have been a cautious rock lover like Arnold. Or maybe she would have been a mix of the two: A reserved rock lover or cautious bug collector. Either way, she would have been a very different girl.

"I know. That's because you're my girl," Phoebe said.

"Did Daddy know about me before he died?"

"I found out I was pregnant after he died, but I think in his own way, he had a feeling I was pregnant. He did what he did to make sure you and I would live."

"He was brave, wasn't he?"

Phoebe nodded. "The bravest."

"Would he have let me learn how to ride a motorcycle?"

Phoebe chuckled. "Never, but maybe I'll think about it for next year."

note: Arya is named after Arya Stark from A Song of Ice and Fire, and her nickname "Arya Underfoot" also comes from AsoIaF. An older Robbie going by "Robb" was, of course, Phoebe's idea since Robb Stark is also from A Song of Ice and Fire.

"Valar Morghulis...'all men must die,' but you and Arya aren't men, so live. Live, Phoebe!" - In the third episode of the third season of Game of Thrones, "Walk of Punishment," Daenerys Targaryen disagrees with the concept of Valar Morghulis by saying "Yes, all men must die, but we are not men."

So there you have it...the end. The fic is now over, sadly.

Thank you to everyone who has read, reviewed, and stayed with this fic from the beginning! I really appreciate the support :D