"You want your hair cut? You know, when we get there?"

Lydia hesitated, thinking on it. Long hair was a danger, easy to grab and yank on, but if they were going to be someplace safe, free of the dead, then what was the point? She shook her head, as Nye sat behind her, brushing out any twigs and leafs she found. The brunette shrugged, somewhat surprised by the answer.

"Oki-doki." She let the girl's hair go. The little ravenette, now free, bounded over and sat beside Daryl. The sight made a soft and warm feeling fill Nye's chest.

"How much longer we got?" Abraham asked behind the wheel, glancing down at the little red light blinking in warning.

Rosita, in the passenger seat checked the map. "Looks like we're a little over halfway there. Why?"

Eyeing the red light, Abraham smiled, brushing it off optimistically. "We can make it. We can make it."

But his hope did nothing to help the RV, when it sputtered out only minutes later.

"Can't win!" He angrily kicked the front of the vehicle, the battery completely dead. "Might as well paint it red, put a ladder on it." Abraham huffed, throwing his hand in the air as he stomped a few feet away.

"All we need is another battery." Glenn calmly explained, hands on his hips.

"Where in the hell are we gonna find another battery?"

Glenn patted his back. "Right over here."

Leading the taller man around to the side, Glenn opened a small hidden door by the entrance, revealing two perfectly good batteries.

"How'd you know those were there?"

Glenn paused, humming a laugh through his nose as a reminiscent smile slid onto his face. "Come on."

It took a bit to take out the old one and replace it, but once the job was finished, the RV roared to life as Rosita started her up. Abraham and Glenn shared a quick high-five, and they were back on the road only minutes after. Able to kick up the speed worry free, now that there were no warnings flashing behind the wheel.

Pushing the window open, Nye took a second to close her eyes, and lean closer to the outside. The sunlight shined bright, visible through her eyelids, and warm enough to give her cheeks a red hue if left in it long. The air blew back in her face, the smell of trees, dirt, and early morning dew worked together to drown out the smell of rot and decay. And when she listened, she could hear the high pitched chirping of birds hidden in the trees.

Opening her eyes, she smiled wide, resting her head on the side of the window panel, just taking it in.

Ahead of them, Rick pulled to a stop. And when she glanced over to see why, her lips parted in a gasp.

A tall, and thick looking wall blocked them off, made of metal and wooden beams. There was a gate, locked up tight enough to discourage any unwanted visitors.

No one spoke a word, so quiet it was almost like they stopped breathing. Slowly, they started moving, stepping out of the RV haltingly, like the idea that this was real was only now hitting them. From her spot, Nye didn't move, finding herself paralyzed, either in excitement or fear, she couldn't tell. All she knew, was there was a large and gnawing pit that had formed in her stomach, turning it nauseatingly.

Mason had stood, but wasn't moving from his spot next to Nye and Toby. Lydia slowly came over, hands anxiously wringing her stuffed duck. Toby sat across from her, seemingly knowing why she hadn't moved yet. While Nye just stared out the window, at the towering gate.

The only ones left in the vehicle now were them, and Daryl who stood at the door, waiting for them.

Stiff as a statue, Nye didn't look like she was moving anytime soon, until something drifted past the wall, and through the window, faint as a whisper, but there nonetheless.

Toby's eyes widened, as his hand shot out and clasped with hers. "Mom…"

She heard it too. The sound of children laughing, and people living their lives.

Taking a deep inhale, and letting it go shakily, Nye stood, leading her kids out of the RV on trembling legs. Daryl nodded at the sight, stepping down and walking over to the rest, who already stood at the front of the gate.

When they made it to stand next to the others, the gate began to slide open, the now slightly rusted metal squeaking as it slowly revealed what hid behind the wall. A man stood there, staring at them all skeptically, even cleaner than Aaron and Eric were. Said man stepped forward, Aaron holding up Eric to help him along on his broken ankle.

Before Aaron could make an effort to ease the tense stare down, a metal dumpster rattled off to their left. Daryl and Glenn, those closest to it, raised their weapons. But when it turned out to just be a possum, Glenn lowered his. Daryl wasn't wasting the opportunity however, and put a bolt in the animal. Picking it up be the tail, he held it up.

"We brought dinner."

Mason snorted, and Nye felt her face flush as the unnamed man looked even further unimpressed.

Aaron held up a hand. "It's okay." He looked back, nodding them inside. "Come on in, guys."

Even the first step through the gate, the air smelled fresher, more lively. And it would have been a beautiful moment if it weren't for the distrusting man guarding the gate.

"Before we take this any further, I need you all to turn over your weapons. You stay, you hand them over."

The more she looked at him, the more she couldn't help but think he resembled a weasel. His beady eyes and pathetically thin facial hair, paired with the unfounded superiority hidden just under the surface, Nye could tell she was going to have problems with this guy.

"We don't know if we want to stay." Rick challenged, somehow still a force to be feared, despite him gently holding Judith to his chest.

"It's fine, Nicholas." Aaron spoke nervously, ready to defend the ragtag group after saving his injured boyfriend.

"If we were gonna use them, we would have started already." Rick replied, uncaring of the glare being shot at him by "Nicholas".

Aaron sighed, not appreciating Rick's disregard for the peace. "Let them talk to Deanna first."

"Who's Deanna?" Abraham bellowed, loud and out of nowhere enough to make Nye jump harshly.

"She knows everything you'd want to know about this place. Rick, why don't you start?" Aaron suggested.

Rick contemplated it, and was about to concede when they heard a Walker snarling, coming from behind them. "Sasha." He said, not bothering to turn around.

The woman, aimed through the bars in the gate, popping off one shot, and dropping the Walker that had been a fair distance away. Tyreese smiled, putting his hand on her shoulder and giving a quick squeeze.

"It's a good thing we're here." Their leader said smugly, brushing past Aaron and the scowling Nicholas.

After Aaron went into the house and returned about five minutes later, he smiled to Rick, signaling him to head inside with a nod. The former sheriff took a moment to gaze back and forth to his son, daughter, and Michonne.

He remained in the house for awhile, taking his sweet time with whatever sort of interview this Deanna woman had in store for them.

Sitting next to her on the porch steps, Glenn nudged Nye with his elbow. "Nervous?"

Nye toyed with her hands, in boredom rather than any nerves plaguing her. "No. I'm kinda great at these." To prove her point, she waved her hand to where her boys idled around. Thinking back on times of tight buns and pencil skirts, all to impress people who were probably dead now.

The two teens were busy standing by the street, taking in the un-raided houses, and clean people milling about.

When Rick finally came out, he didn't say anything, just let Deanna usher them all into the side yard where a woman in a ponytail and glasses pushed a grey trolley toward them. Rick moved first, setting his gun down into the trolley. With a reassuring nod, their leader stepped aside and let them put down their own weapons.

Rick made the decision. They were staying, for now, at least.

"They're still your guns. You can check them out whenever you go beyond the wall. But inside here, we store them for safety." Deanna assured them.

Nye didn't want to agree with their system as much as she did, but it made sense. With walls this large, it was more likely for someone irresponsible to accidentally shoot themself than be bit by a Walker.

One by one the trolley filled up, creaking under the sheer weight of the artillery. Carol timidly approached, carefully setting down her handgun, and fumbling with the strap of her rifle. Finally getting it off, she smiled awkwardly as the woman across from her gave her a sympathetic one of her own. While the group knew what Carol was really capable of, Alexandria didn't. It was like some big game of poker, and it would be smart to hide the queen up their sleeve.

Nye stiffly pulled out her black pistol, gripping it with white knuckles as she chewed her bottom lip bloody. Rick gave her a second, before twitching his head sideways toward the trolley. Sighing inaudibly, Nye gently set it down with the rest, already uncomfortable without its presence. It had been at her side so long now, feeling like a piece of home when she didn't have any, and always reminding her of Daryl any time she felt the cold metal. Her only comfort was being allowed to hold onto her crossbow.

"Should have brought another bin." The woman in glasses chuckled awkwardly, pushing the heavy thing away with her as she went back to the weapons storage.

As the rest of the group was called in one at a time, Aaron showed up and offered to take Rick and Carl down the road to look at the houses in the meantime. The children apparently weren't obligated to partake in the interviewing process. Nye was thankful for this, unsure of how Lydia would respond being bombarded by questions from a stranger.

Eventually, it was Nye's turn.

Stepping through the doorway, Nye subconsciously made her feet land lighter on the floor, making an effort to be as silent as possible in the home. It was like walking through a portal, back into the days of 2010. Deanna sat on a sofa, waiting patiently with a sincere smile, letting the brunette have a moment to look around like the previous people had. When Nye made it to the plush chair across from the sofa, she hesitated to sit, suddenly very aware of how dirty she was, but after seeing the stains and smudges left by her family before her, Nye pursed her lips sheepishly and sat on the edge, placing her hands on her knees, where they couldn't ruin any other furniture.

The older, red haired woman, seemed a bit amused by Nye's attempt, after the way the others had sat down carelessly. Locking her fingers together on her lap, Deanna smiled. "Hello. I'm Deanna Monroe."

Nye blinked, eyes moving away from the window, where she could see a family taking a harmless walk down the road. "My name's Niagara Conner. I'd shake your hand, but uh…" She held them up with an embarrassed laugh, dried blood and dirt dusting them.

Deanna shook her head, waving off Nye's reservations, leaning over and taking her right hand, shaking it firmly.

Nye cleared her throat, pleasantly surprised that the older woman wasn't afraid to get her hands dirtied for the sake of a simple handshake.

When she leaned back, Deanna pointed at something right over her shoulder. "Would you mind if I record this?"

"Uh… I mean- sure?" Nye muttered, self consciously taking off her cracked goggles and patting down her hair.

Again, Deanna appeared amused as she pressed a button, starting the recording. "Alright, Niagara. Let's start simple, what did you do before?"

"I was an obstetrical nurse, and foster mother."

"I see, I suppose your calling was aimed at helping children one way or another."

Nye blushed, ducking her head with a modest grin. Shrugging, she fiddled with her sleeves, making sure her right one was plenty long enough to keep her wrist covered.

"Do you have any family, Niagara?"

Her hands stalled, and Nye looked up. "I- Yeah. My sons, Mason, and Toby. And I mean, well this group, their my family…" Nye trailed off, contemplating her next words carefully. "Then, there's Lydia… she, well… I'm her guardian of sorts, if that's what she wants me to be. I guess I've become her…" Nye shook her head, frantically waving her hands as she backtracked. "Wait, I don't know what she sees me as or anything! What I mean is I would never force myself into the role of a mother to someone unless I was explicitly asked by them, and I don't even know what we are to her but I know I would die for her in a heartbeat, and that she's the sweetest girl I've ever met, and I just want to help her and protect her, you know?"

Deanna let her ramble on about wanting to be there, but not wanting to over step, and it gave the woman a pretty good idea of what sort of character Nye was.

"Other than the obvious medical experience, are there any talents you have that might help our community?"

"Well, I can juggle." Nye fought off a grin as Deanna smothered a chuckle. "For real though, I don't think I can offer all that much. I can do a bunch of random and honestly useless stuff, not anything of worth really."

When Deanna only leaned back, opening her hand in a gesture to "go ahead", Nye's brows lifted and her mouth gaped for a second.

"Wait, you want me to sit here and tell you all about my shitty talents?"

"Pretty much."

Scoffing lightly, Nye shrugged ruefully. "Okay? Uh, I can speak French, ASL, and just a bit of German. I can play guitar, and the trombone. I can do a handstand while under the influence, hmmm what else…?"

"Alright," Deanna waved a hand, body trembling faintly in withheld mirth. "I can see you'll be very helpful."

She only had a few more questions, and when those were answered, Deanna found herself asking one that hadn't been lined up before, prompted by the way Nye hadn't asked what the rest of her group had so far.

"Why haven't you asked me any questions?"

Nye hummed, at some point having relaxed further into the chair. "I don't really feel a need to. But now that you mention it, I do have one."

Deanna nodded seriously. "I'm all ears."

Nye took a breath, resting her elbows on her knees, and head on her hands as she stared back at Deanna heavily.

"Do you really allow dogs?"

"Oh, my God. It has three floors" Nye squeaked, staring up at the house on the left, a light blue with a giant porch covering the right hand corner of the house. On her right was their other one, only two floors but more than made up by the length of the structure, this one was white and had a smaller porch in the front.

"And water, electricity, and actual beds." Carl called, crossing his arms with a smirk as he stood against the porch banister, looking down at her from his elevated height. "Welcome to Alexandria."

"Bitchin'" Mason nodded as he surveyed the houses in approval.

"Bedrooms. Lots of them. Mom please." Toby hissed in Nye's ear, tugging her arm pleadingly. "Don't make me go back to living with him, please."

Coming out of her reverie, Nye rolled her eyes. "And there's about twenty of us. We'll see how many of us have to share, and I'll think about it. For now though," She came over to the side of the porch, unfurling the hose attached to the outdoor faucet, turning the knob. "Help me wash down a giant Saint Bernard."

Carl jerked back, arms thrown up. "Not it! I just got clean!"

"Oh yeah?" Feeling the pressure building up, Nye lifted the hose just in time, thumb over the end to make it spray everywhere as she aimed it at Carl. "'Cause to me it looks like you need a spray down as bad as Sammy does." Turning her head, Nye smiled sweetly to Lydia as she continued to spray Carl, the boy jumping around the porch in hopes of avoiding the water. But there was no escape. "Sweetheart, how about you head inside for now, hmm?"

"The hell?"

Lowering the hose, Nye turned around and saw Daryl and the rest, having finished their interviews. Coming over to the houses only to witness Nye hosing down Carl as Mason and Toby wrestled Samson out of his service vest a few yards away. She was unsurprised to find the redneck was still holding onto the dead possum.

"I was just getting Carl acquainted with this hose." Nye explained and moved her thumb from the end, lifting the pouring hose almost in a bored fashion.

While few people, namely Carol and Abraham shook their heads, Tara ran by them, up the now wet porch and inside, hollering over her shoulder,

"Dibs on the shower!"

Behind her, Mason cheered as he got the vest off, pulling Nye's attention away from where Tara had barreled through the door. "Bad call on her part." The brunette said and pointedly held up the still spilling hose. "The water pressure's gonna suck bad."

"He's so soft." Lydia whispered, marveling at Samson's now sleek and plush coat, petting him ever since he got dry.

It was dark out, and everyone was sitting around in the living room of the blue house. Sasha and Daryl sat by windows, keeping watch unnecessarily. At one point Nye wouldn't have been able to tell you what time it was, only able to make a rough guess based on the lighting outside, but now all she had to do was glance over at the wall clock mounted next to the fireplace, or one of the ones built into the oven or microwave.

Microwave. When was the last time she could just nuke some leftovers from the night before? She didn't know, but as soon as the chance presented itself, she was microwaving whatever she could, just to get to hear the bulky machine beep obnoxiously once done. It was funny how things so simple were now appreciated so much more.

"How long was I in there for?" Michonne asked in a blissed out tone, dressed in new and clean clothes as she stepped into the room. Her dreadlocks holding onto the water from her shower, leaving her smelling pleasantly like shampoo.

Rick checked his watch, now ticking away in time with every other clock in Alexandria "Twenty minutes."

"God, I could not stop brushing." She laughed, raising a toothbrush up to her mouth, but stopped to stare at Rick. "Huh. I've never- I've never seen your face like that."

Rick chuckled. "That's what I felt before and after."

"I haven't seen you this cleanly shaved since the CDC." Nye snarked as she passed the two, moving to take the bathroom, being one of the last few to get themselves clean.

Tara laughed, then caught up to what Nye had said. "Wait, CDC? When did-"

A couple knocks rapped on the door. Everyone tensed, readying their knives and two crossbows out of habit. Opening the door revealed to be no threat, as Deanna stood at the entrance, smiling kindly to the former sheriff who let her in. "Rick, I-" She too paused at the sight of his face. "Wow."

Rick groaned, already tired of the heckling.

"I didn't know what was under there." Deanna joked. "Listen, I don't mean to interrupt. I just wanted to stop by and see how you were all settling." Looking behind the man, she saw the living room packed with the whole group, even the baby crib had been moved to keep Judith where everyone could watch over her. "Oh, my. Staying together. Smart." Deanna approved with a smile.

"No one said we couldn't." Rick challenged.

Nye elbowed him, shooting an apologetic look to Deanna. "He means, it's just more comfortable for us this way."

The older woman shrugged, unbothered by their decision. "You said you're a family. That's what both of you said." Casting her gaze on the room and each person inside, she shook her head in awe. "Absolutely amazing to me how people with completely different backgrounds and nothing in common can become that. Don't you think?"

"Everybody said you gave them jobs." Rick said, unmoved by her speech.

"Mm-hmm. Yeah. Part of this place. Looks like the communists won after all." She huffed through a laugh, managing to get a barely-there smile out of Rick.

"Well, you didn't give me one."

"I have. I just haven't told you yet. Same with Michonne." Deanna explained. "I'm closing in on something for Sasha. I think I have an interesting idea for Niagara. And I'm just trying to figure Mr. Dixon out, but I will." She said in a voice that implied that she really was confident in her abilities. "You look good." Deanna grinned teasingly to Rick one more time, and left.

Plopping down on the bay window sills right next to him, Mason smirked with trembling lips at Daryl. "Mr. Dixon." He wheezed barely above a whisper.

Giving Mason no chance to deflect it, Daryl swiftly shoved him off the sills with his boot, looking back outside as Mason hit the floor with a grunt.

"Would you rather me talk about Mrs. Dixon?" Mason jeered and cocked his head, aiming it to the stairs, where Nye was walking up to use the second floor bathroom.

This time Daryl shut him up by smacking the brim of his hat down all the way under his chin, the top of the hat covering his face.

Setting down her new clothes onto the counter, Nye looked herself over in the mirror, internally criticizing every new patch of blood and/or dirt marking her. Goggles coming off first, Nye combed her hair thoroughly, knowing wet hair was harder to untangle. Then came off her shoes, and socks, once bright colors now dulled like you were looking through a dirty glass. Nothing left to stall with, Nye unbuttoned her pants, rushing to lock the door before she took them off, having forgotten to before.

Inhaling stiltedly, she pulled them down and off, grimacing with unjustified shame at the hair on her legs.

Societal norms sucked.

Next went her underwear, and bra, pulling it out from the bottom of her shirt. Then, standing in nothing but a fraying grey hoodie, Nye swallowed the stubborn cotton in her throat. Closing her eyes, she yanked it up over her head, the cool air in the bathroom giving her goose-bumps. Unsure how long she idled there, Nye let out a deep breath, opening her eyes.

She looked like a battle zone.

Under the dirt and blood, she glanced between every new scar littering her skin. The last time she had access to a mirror this big, was at the Greene farm, so this was all kinds of overwhelming. Aside from her old ones scattered across her forearm, Nye had to face the news ones.

A thin, barely visible one on top of her forehead, touching her hairline. Where the Termite that snuck up on her and Bob hit her across the head, cracking her goggles and digging the glass into her skin.

Two bullet holes in her left shoulder, entrance smaller than the exit, but both looking torn up and gouged. A lucky shot from one of the Governor's men, infected and treated with wild maggots.

There were a few she didn't remember getting. A long thin one down her thigh. A deep and thick one just under her right knee.

There was the smooth little hole in the center of her stomach, above her belly button, and a few centimeters to the left. From a psychotic tyrannical monster, after he just killed a man Nye believed had the chance to be someone great.

But then there was the big one. Marked on her stomach, and cramped between the last one, and her favorite tattoo.

MEAT, in big arching letters, taking up the smooth skin once there. Her bullet wound tucked just under the pocket in the 'A'. Nye used to like her stomach, flat and smooth, but now the sight of it made her feel sick.

The feeling of Gareth sitting on her, keeping her down so he could carve into her, was still scarily etched into her mind. Nye would almost swear she could still feel him now, heavy and cutting off circulation to her legs. Breathing suddenly much more difficult than it should be, Nye turned on the shower, letting it go long enough to fog the mirror before getting in.

Scalding hot, Nye flinched away from the steaming water, gradually dipping back under. She watched as brown and coppery red ran down the drain, hair soaking up water, hanging in her face as she stood there.

She didn't have an idea how long she remained stationary, but by the time she snapped out of it, the water running down her was clear. Lethargically reaching over to the shelf holding the soaps, Nye grabbed one without looking.

Moving to open the cap, she caught what the colorful font on the front said.

Peaches and daisies.

Blinking, she stared at the bottle. Her hair was sticking to her face, her fingers were getting wrinkly, and she hadn't noticed she was falling until her knees banged painfully down on the tile floor.

She didn't know why, couldn't fathom why it was that that did it. But it just was.

Nye gasped a sharp and quaking breath, eyes wide and getting teary fast. Her hands dropped the bottle in favor of shooting upward to claw at her choked neck. She hunched into herself, making her form as tight and compact as possible, all while struggling to get her lungs to cooperate.

She gasped three times uncontrollably, tears running down her cheeks and mingling with the water coming from the shower head. When she finally got herself to exhale, stomach rolling nauseously, it came out in a wail. Her left hand slapped over her mouth, another wail escaping from behind it.

She hoped no one could hear her, as her body jerked with each violent gasp and sob. It came to a point where she fumbled around and took her dirty hoodie, bunching it up and smothering her face in the dampening fabric, and with the new sound barrier, she screamed herself hoarse. The scream pathetically broke off into pieces as she fell to her side, laying in the fetal position.

Hershel died. The photo albums and Pumpkin were lost. Bob died. Tyreese lost his hand. It all swirled around in her head, raising her pulse and taking ahold of her lungs. Beth dying just when she was in reach. The baby Walker. The community of cannibals. A group of people living among the dead.

And me.

Nye froze, eyes opening and peeking over her crumpled hoodie, staring distantly at the wall on the other side of the room. New tears welled up, and she clung tighter to the piece of wet clothing, hoping for a shred of comfort to come from it.

Me. I got shot. I lost the van I built from scraps. I was taken and mutilated by people worse than Walkers. I'm covered in scars. Other people covered me in scars.

"I-I-" Nye choked, curling tighter and staring into space. "I-I'm not o-okay… I'm not f-fine."

And this time, she wished someone could hear her.


So good news for me, and might be bad news for you, but I have found myself working on a novel, yay! I'm really happy with the rough draft right now, and will be working on writing it in its entirety, so it may end up cutting into my time for fanfiction. No I am not abandoning this, nor will I ever until it is finished, so you don't have to worry about that, I promise! In fact, I have a draft/guideline written up now, for the rest of Goggles and Leather that I wrote over the course of this week, so hopefully that will help speed things along. And yes, the draft does include how this story is ending.