1. Acceptance

CONNIE

The days dragged on so long that Connie could hardly remember the moment the cave had collapsed anymore. Her stomach was on fire, mouth dry and body weak. Not only were they starving, but the rocks had injured Magna's spine and so she couldn't walk on her own. Connie also had some bruises on her leg that made it painful.

They only had a bottle of warm water and some chocolate bars—they had only lasted three days with less-than-generous rationing. Now, there was nothing. Just darkness. They were hiding in a space in the cave away from whisperers and they hadn't been found yet.

Connie felt herself becoming weaker and weaker. The faces of her family were blurry hues of familiarity. She hated it. Her body was on fire. She only noticed now that she was actually starving. And with a few whisperers still roaming the cave, they couldn't extract any water.

Doomed, was what they were.

DARYL

There was only a slight pain in his leg where Alpha had cut him, now that they were days off from his attack. It was reckless, Daryl knew, and now he'd been bedridden for days, rendering himself useless and for what? He should've known that nothing would come of it. Except finding Lydia again. The only light in all that dark regret.

His throat was scratchy. Daryl pulled his legs over the side of the infirmary bed in Alexandria. He drank the water on the bedside table that was accompanied by another cup of pills. Aaron helped pull him to his feet. There was still pain, but not enough to keep him from doing what he needed to.

"Who was sent out today?" Daryl's voice was raspier than he'd ever heard it.

Aaron looked reluctant to speak, shifting uncomfortably.

Daryl looked behind him where Gabriel stood at the door. Both had odd looks. "The hell is going on?"

"We can't keep doing this." Gabriel said, unhinging himself from the wall. "I think it's time we start accepting it. If Magna and Connie were okay, we would've found them by now."

Anger surged through Daryl like electricity. It was only a matter of time until someone lost hope and screwed everything up.

"Man, you don't know shit." Daryl didn't know what he would've done when he lurched in Gabriel's direction, because he was stopped by Aaron.

"We don't have time for this." Aaron said. "Alpha is still out there with a herd. All of this arguing is useless."

"What's useless are these daily trips to those caves, sending our people out there—putting them in danger when there's a chance the whisperers could attack." Gabriel snapped. "We've done it before, and we can do it again—acceptance. We just have to accept it and move on."

"That ain't acceptance." Daryl grabbed the cup of pills and swallowed, slamming it on the table. "That's giving up. That's bullshit."

Daryl suppressed the image of her in his head. Usually when he thought of her, the thoughts of her pain and suffering were quick to follow. And he couldn't think like that. Or he'd end up like Gabriel.

"Think about it, Daryl." Gabriel said. "Dynamite exploded. The herd was moved out and we still can't find them. If Alpha had them as hostages, we would know—that's the point of a hostage. We'd at least have a body, or body parts—"

"I thought about it." Daryl yelled. "And they ain't dead. Just like we ain't dead. If I gotta go out there myself—"

"No, Daryl, you're weak." Aaron intercepted.

"I can walk." Daryl went to the wall and grabbed his crossbow, slinging the strap over his open vest and gripping it. "I'm going out with others. Screw your 'acceptance'." And he walked past them.

CONNIE

Pain was all she could think about until it wasn't. Until she saw the cylindrical lusters of flashlights shooting back and forth and side to side in the cave. She was so weak, she was on the verge of passing out. And she thought she did.

She felt wetness at her lips and then in her mouth.

Drink it. She saw Daryl's mouth form. Daryl. Was she dreaming?

She swore he was looming above in the darkness, dark brown hair over his forehead, wisps of a bear with dark-brown and even grey hairs. She felt him holding her, but his mouth's movements were only blurs.

Then she was above ground in the sunlight, limp and in Daryl's arms. She didn't remember much about it except the fact that she felt okay again and safe. That was when the relief had overridden the pain.

Now, she awoke in the infirmary of Alexandria. She blinked around. Daryl was gone. She was alone, minus an unconscious Magna with a sleeping Yumiko at her side. Connie's skin was bruised on her arms and legs. She got off the bed and looked at the wall mirror, the skin around her right eye was bruised purple and her lip was split bad. There were stitches done on her forehead.

Across the room in bed was Kelly; she was sleeping. Both of her legs were missing and some fingers. Connie had ran over and collapsed over her sister, trying to hold in her tears as she laid her head against her chest.

This was Alpha. With her sadness, there was anger. She bit her lip hard to keep herself from the thoughts, but she couldn't help it. She'd have to end her. She'd have to end Alpha.

DARYL

Daryl was in the barn cleaning his motorcycle when she entered. He didn't think he would have heard her if it weren't for her little strides against the hay. He stood upright, holding a greasy rag in his hands.

By her eye, her skin was bruised purple and burgundy, her lip was split and cracked. She wore the same clothes from the caves. Seemed she hadn't tidied up and instead came straight to find him.

With a gesture at her chin with one hand, she signed, 'Thank you.'

None of her bruises hid the faint spill of freckles over her nose. She had messed dusty curly hair.

The usual light in her eyes was gone, and he avoided her gaze, doing his best gesture of the sign, 'You're welcome,' before he turned and went back to his motorcycle with the rag, effectively ending their communication.

She was okay. Magna as well. That was enough to know. Being with her, or celebrating it, just felt like a jinx—as it always was in the past. With his friends Rick and Beth, even Tyreese. Any moment that he enjoyed his family's safety—something happened. He wasn't falling for it again.

Daryl hoped she'd leave, but he felt a gentle tap on his shoulder. Daryl faced her with question in his expression.

She looked like she wanted to say something, but then gave up completely. Signing, 'Nothing. Never-mind.'

Connie turned away with enough force that he knew she'd noticed his coldness, and the look in her eyes had been enough. Daryl stopped her by grabbing her hand and he felt her pause her stride without looking.

Now she looked at him.

'What?' Her sign was laced with mild irritancy.

His face burned and he dipped his head so she wouldn't see his emotion, sweeping her up in his arms and clutching her close to him. He knew she hadn't been expecting it—and he hadn't meant to. His eyes were filled as he squeezed her into him, her small form. It was the little things— her curls tickling his neck and skin warm against him—that relieved him. He felt her hands wrap over his back.

When he drew back, she was crying as well—eyes filled.

'Kelly.' She signed. 'What happened?'

He didn't know the signs for it, so he spoke his response with clear enunciation instead. "Whisperers attacked."

Connie's lips pressed together tightly. She had that look. The one he recognized all too well.

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