Sorry for the unintended hiatus. I've had over half of this chapter written for over a month now. I've been sidetracked with a lot lately, and also hit a lull with GaL for a bit. The annoying part is, I know as soon as I get past the part that I'm struggling with it will be easier to keep writing, and that's when I actually do my most work. But it's still difficult to work through the portion that gives me trouble. I'm still not 100% pleased with this chapter, but you guys don't deserve having to any longer. So, I'm sorry.
And sorry that I don't think I can promise it won't happen again.
(Anyway, because I probably won't be posting again until after it passes, happy Halloween/The Walking Dead anniversary! If you go out do so responsibly, and only if your area allows it.)
The woman on the swing: Ever Carradine
Daryl panted, clenching his fists as he stared at the stolen motorcycle he had put together back in Aaron's garage. His knuckles bled, having split when he slammed them into the last Savior's face.
Or, they thought he was the last.
It was light out again, making it easy to spot the dropped walkie talkie on the ground when it fizzled to life.
"Lower your gun, prick."
They all traded looks, quickly trying to locate whoever was using the second walkie talkie. But the group of Saviors were too far back in the woods to spot.
"You, with the Colt Python. All of you, lower your weapons right now."
Rick raised the walkie to his mouth, still combing over the tree line with a narrowed gaze. "Come on out. Let's talk."
In the brush, Carol and Maggie were being held at gunpoint. The two women kept their eyes down near the ground, watching Nye closely.
The short woman was unconscious, her body crumpled pitifully on the ground. Her face was pale, and her breathing sounded labored. Neither Carol or Maggie had any idea what was wrong with her, never having been told about her heart.
"We're not coming out, but we will talk." The voice crackled through the walkie again, clipped and abrasive, but distinctly female. "We've got a Carol, a Nye, and a Maggie. I'm thinking that's something you want to chat about."
Glenn took a hitched breath, turning on his heels as he frantically searched what they could see of the woods.
Jesus swore angrily, pacing as he raked his hands through his long hair.
Daryl gripped his rifle, teeth grinding together as he focused on keeping a level head. The last thing they needed was for his temper to set off the Saviors holding the three women.
"Now, we're gonna work this out right now, and it's going to go our way."
The woman's cocky tone made Daryl yearn to hurt something, and thankfully Rick played on that. The leader gave them a nod, and Daryl and Glenn heaved the beaten Savior they had up onto his feet. The bald man panted, blood spilling from his swollen lips. While Daryl held the man up and still, Glenn aimed his pistol to the man's head.
"You can see we have one of yours. We'll trade." Rick spoke into the walkie, squinting at the tree line.
"I'm listening."
"First I want to talk to my people, make sure they're alright."
There was a long pause, before Carol's voice came through.
"Rick, it's Carol. I'm-I'm fine, but-" Her voice cut out, shortly replaced by Maggie's. "Rick, it's Maggie. We're both okay. But Nye, she's-"
Daryl's stomach dropped, mind racing with all the possible things that could have happened.
Why did he let her stay back with Carol and Maggie? Why didn't he keep her by his side?
Logically, he knew it wasn't up to him, that Nye was fully capable of making her own decisions. And even then, if he did have any say, he still would have chosen to have her stay back, as it seemed like the far safer option at the time.
"You have your proof. Let's talk."
Rick shook his head, lips threatening to twist into a snarl. "No, I need to hear from Nye too. Put her on."
Another pause, the seconds ticking by painfully slow. When the woman finally responded it knocked the air out of Daryl's chest.
"Afraid I can't do that. Sleeping Beauty better be a chronic fainter, or she's getting a bullet between the eyes for thinking she can pull a fast one."
Daryl didn't realize he was moving until Jesus latched onto his arm to keep him from marching towards the woods
"This is the deal right here. Let 'em go, you can have your guy back and live." Rick bartered, keeping half an eye on Daryl.
"Three for one, that's not much of a trade." The woman snipped back.
Rick took a measured breath. "You don't have another choice or you would've done something about it already." After waiting for a full minute for a response, Rick continued. "Look, I know you're talking it over. It's a fair trade. Just come out, we do this, we all walk away. Do we have a deal?"
"...I'll get back to you."
That was it, the small light on the walkie talkie went out, showing that the woman had turned hers off, or at least changed the channel.
"Shit." Rick snapped, angrily rubbing his brow with the back of his wrist.
"What now?" Michonne worriedly asked, looking back and forth between Glenn and Daryl.
"We need to get to Niagara. Right now."
The group turned, giving Jesus questioning and concerned looks.
"W-why?" Glenn broached, face a few shades paler, feeling sick with worry for his wife and unborn child.
Jesus gave them all an incredulous and angered stare. "That woman said she fainted." He said emphatically.
Everyone stared at him, clearly confused and even a bit uncaring, as they didn't grasp why it was such an alarming detail.
Everyone but Daryl, who had just turned white.
Jesus's face fell, taking a small step back as he shook his head in denial. "She didn't tell you. Nye never told you?"
Daryl stomped forward, fisting the front of Jesus's shirt. "The hell's gonna happen?"
Jesus swallowed, lowering his head. "I'm not sure, but we need to get to her before it gives out completely."
Daryl slowly let him go, his own heart stuttering.
And because of his mounting panic, he never thought to ask how Jesus even knew something was wrong with her in the first place.
...
Everything felt off.
Nye frowned, her eyes moving behind her lids. When she finally cracked them open, she was met with the passing sight of wide crop fields. She tried moving, but felt too sluggish, her mind whirring to catch up with what was going on. The only way she could think to describe how she felt, was to say she was suddenly made of cotton.
"Where are we goin'?" She slurred, eyelids beginning to droop, her forehead bumping and resting against the window.
There was a short chortle, coming from her left, where she assumed the driver was seated. When the voice answered her, the fatigue vanished.
"It's a surprise,"
Her head snapped to the left, her eyes wide and disbelieving, locking with a pair of the kindest she had ever encountered, even still.
"You-"
"You're going to love it, trust me." Dale grinned jovially, thumbs tapping a beat on the steering wheel.
Nye slowly sat up, never taking her stare away from the man. The man who was supposed to be very dead. "I-I don't… I don't understand?"
Dale smiled, turning down the radio she hadn't noticed was playing. "Well, Hershel wanted to be the one to drive you, but I won out in the end." Dale blinked with a now thoughtful purse of his lips. "Actually, he wasn't the only one. Once he heard who it was that was coming, Mer-"
"Dale," Nye cut him off, her voice bordering on hysterical. "I don't understand."
The man's smile finally dropped, replaced by a saddened purse of his lips. "I know you don't. But you will, just be patient, okay?"
Nye opened her mouth, but ultimately sighed as she slumped back in her seat. Dale patted her on the knee in reassurance.
The sun seemed to be in a permanent sunset, casting the world in a gorgeous array of oranges and yellows. As she stared out her window, she dearly wished she had a camera on hand, to capture the beauty of the scene, with the way the sun was hanging delicately over the fields that bobbed in the slight breeze. She went to roll down the window, when she spotted a smudge of orange paint on the handle, a smudge she knew all too well.
Nye shot up straight, frantically looking around the interior of the car, wondering how she'd missed it.
"We've been taking good care of her, don't worry." Dale grinned, watching her out of the corner of his eyes, as she combed over every detail of Pumpkin.
The van looked and smelled exactly the same as it did back when the world was still turning. Back before she was used to haul supplies and weapons in their new broken world. All the charms were still hanging on the rearview mirror, all the speakers were still strapped into every corner, all the stickers were still littering the ceiling in the back. It was Pumpkin when she was in her prime, and Nye didn't understand how.
They came to a stop, and Nye looked out the windshield curiously. While Dale unbuckled himself and hopped out, Nye sat and stared.
They had parked a fair distance from a house, a rough dirt road leading all the way up to the porch. The house itself was breathtaking, three stories all stacked on top of each other in a way that made Nye think of those fancy dollhouses she always wanted when she was a kid. The walls were all painted white, with the roof shingles colored a complimentary dark brown. The porch on the front of the property was long, nearly going around both sides Nye could see, with white banisters holding up the overhang. Past the banisters and railing, Nye could make out a wooden bench swing, swaying softly.
She jumped when her door opened, so caught up in counting the numerous windows lining the house that she didn't notice Dale approaching her side of the van.
"Ready to go?" Dale asked with a grin, holding a hand out to her.
Nye studied him, the way he seemed eager, yet with a muted melancholy in his eyes. She unbuckled her seatbelt hesitantly, slowly taking his hand as if she expected it to bite her.
Dale chuckled breathily, helping her as she stepped out.
Outside the van, Nye could smell the fresh air with a mixture of awe and incredulity. She never noticed just how polluted the world had smelled, until now. There was no trace of rotting flesh, or blood, or gunpowder. Here, there was just grass, dirt, and something she could only think to describe as home.
"Let's go. We don't want to keep everyone waiting."
Nye didn't think to ask who everyone was, focused too much in looking around. The house was clearly on a large property, no other homes in sight, just more fields.
Halfway down the dirt road, the two stopped abruptly. Nye squinted ahead, wondering what it was that was suddenly barreling at them from the house. She didn't have time to ask Dale, or ask why he was laughing now, as the small form slammed into her front.
Nye yelped and coughed at the harsh impact, letting go of Dale's hand in favor of putting it on the shoulder of the person latched onto her. It faintly occurred to her that she wasn't nearly as out of breath as she usually would have been after being tackled. In fact, she felt great in general, her lungs free from restrictions, and her heart thumped loud and strong in her chest.
Were most people able to feel their heart beating like this?
She looked down, spotting sandy blonde hair. The girl, whoever she was, was wearing a flow-y white sundress, and had ran out of the house barefooted. Nye awkwardly patted her back, unsure of what to do.
Dale cleared his throat, staring at the girl in fondness. "You have all the time in the world to hug later, but Niagara still needs to see everyone else."
The girl let go of Nye's middle, taking a step back.
Nye gasped softly.
Sophia beamed merrily, rocking excitedly on her heels. "You're going to love it here Nye, it's wonderful! Everyone's so excited to see you again, especially She-"
Dale gently but swiftly covered Sophia's mouth. "Surprise, remember?"
Sophia flushed, replacing Dale's hand with her own. "Sorry." Came her muffled reply.
But all Nye could do was stare, taking in the little girl they lost so long ago. She looked older, but just by a few years. Which made sense, as that's how long it had been since they lost her.
"Come on," Sophia eagerly pulled her along down the dirt path. "They're gonna be so happy to see you again!"
Nye nodded dumbly, still staring at the girl. She seemed so much more lively now, free from the horrors of the world, and the lingering grip her scumbag of a father had had on her, even after his death. She seemed like a normal, excitable kid.
They stepped up the porch, and Nye could hear chatter coming from inside the house, through the screen-door that separated them. The sound made Nye's heart flip, for whatever reason, and she did find herself slowly growing more and more excited. For what though, she had no idea.
Sophia carefully pushed open the mesh door, keeping it from making any noise. She put a finger to her lips and nodded for Nye to go inside.
The brunette complied, the sounds of scattered conversations coming from every corner of the house. She kept her gait slow and light, avoiding making the floorboards creak. The interior of the house matched the outside in terms of subtle beauty, with cream colored walls, lined with photos from seemingly completely unrelated families. As she was looking around at them, she caught her reflection in a wall mounted mirror.
Her jaw hung open.
Her messy and greasy hair looked soft to the touch now, appearing to be recently blown dry, and pulled back into a loose but gorgeous braid. There wasn't a speck of dirt to be seen, the only thing on her face being a very light dusting of eyeshadow, and mascara, just the way Nye used to do her makeup. Looking down at herself, she again wondered how she hadn't noticed such a large detail. She was no longer wearing frayed jeans and a baggy hoodie, both stained in blood. But rather she wore a sundress, akin to Sophia's, that was a light pale yellow, with thick spaghetti straps and lace bordering the hem.
With a start, she realized her goggles were missing.
"C'mon." Sophia urged in a whisper, pulling her along again.
Before Nye could marvel at the woven rug on the floor, or the photos on the wall in the foyer, she was led forward into the massive lounge. There was a red brick fireplace to her left, with cushy red armchairs seated close by, pointing in its direction, next to a large bookshelf. To the right there were several sofas all facing a television, shelves of movies on either side of the mahogany desk the TV sat on. It was playing a seemingly random channel on mute, a show she didn't recognize unfolding with no one in the room to watch it. There was a long coffee table in front of the sofas, a few forgotten mugs sitting there, all but one being on coasters. On the walls were more photos, and Nye thought she saw a glimpse of Maggie in one before she was dragged along.
The further they walked the louder the chatter became, until Nye could almost pick up on what was being said, if not for them all overlapping. They finally entered a dining room, a wide table surrounded by many chairs, each with a plate in front of it.
"I am telling you I didn't cheat!"
Nye stopped, Sophia turning to watch her with a smile, as did Dale.
"And I'm saying there's no way you won six times in a row!"
The brunette gripped Sophia's hand tightly, staring unblinkingly at the open doorway across the table.
"Well, maybe I'm just that good." Stepping out with a smug smirk, Andrea stepped in front of the table, her hands filled with silverware, as she started setting a pair down by every plate.
"Good at cheating, maybe." Following her with a load of napkins, was T-Dog.
"I didn't-" as Andrea lifted her head to threaten the man, she spotted the three standing on the other side of the table.
All Nye could think to do in that moment, was wave weakly with her free hand.
"Oh my God you're here!" The blonde dropped the silverware onto the table with a clatter, running around it and crushing Nye in a warm hug.
Nye flushed, slowly wrapping her arms around Andrea. The blonde had never shown this much excitement before, not to seeing Nye. It wasn't like they truly detested each other, even after Andrea went to Woodbury, but this was new.
T-Dog moved to stand over Andrea's shoulder, patting Nye on the head with a soft smile.
"T, I-I didn't-" Nye started, eyes welling up as she stared at him. The last time they were together, he had sacrificed himself so she could get away.
T-Dog held up a silencing hand. "Don't go there, I was already bit, and it wasn't your fault. I have never blamed you for what happened."
Nye bit her lip, sniffling with a weak nod.
Andrea pulled away, holding Nye at arms length as she seemed to study her. "Your heart, hm?"
Nye gaped. "Wha-"
Andrea shook her head, letting her go. "Should've told more than just Daryl, you know. Oh yeah, speaking of which, maybe now that you're here he will finally shut up about that "mission" you went on together."
Before Nye could ask what she was talking about, T-Dog took her bicep and started leading her into what sounded like the kitchen. Nye looked back, irrationally worried about leaving Sophia behind, but the girl waved, excited for her to reconnect with everyone.
The sounds of utensils hitting glass and metal came from the left, and Nye leaned over T-Dog's broad form to get a look at who was working on the food.
She stumbled, knees threatening to buckle.
"You gotta fold it gently, otherwise you're gonna beat all the air out."
"The hell's it matter if the air's gone?"
"Guys, it says here that the batter should be chilled before using."
"...Well fuck."
"Language Merle, I won't have you tainting his poor little ears."
"You're kiddin' right? He's Shorty's brother for fucks sake- Shit! The hell's that for?!"
"I warned you."
T-Dog gently pushed her forward, helping her to stay upright at the same time.
Nye slowly came closer, hands fisting the front of her dress to keep them from visibly shaking. She finally stopped just behind the island counter, not caring to look around the lovely kitchen, focused solely on the three people making a mess of baking.
"Maybe we can get away with skipping that step." Elise, her grandmother, suggested. She looked exactly the same as Nye remembered, now wearing a flour stained apron.
"Gonna hav'to, the old man said she'd be here soon." Merle grumbled, wiping both his undamaged hands on a dishtowel. Hilariously enough, he was wearing an apron as well, one with the standard "kiss the cook" on the front.
"Maybe we should get Jacque? She's really great at baking."
That voice.
It was deeper now, as he sat taller at the island counter, only a few feet in front of her. He had a cookbook open, scanning the pages intently. He was so focused on that, he didn't even notice her presence right next to him.
He had to be at least nineteen now, right?
"Thought the whole point o' this was for it to be from us." Merle carelessly tossed the dishtowel aside, picking up the bowl of batter again. Before he could start mixing, Elise whacked him with an oven mitt.
"Soft folds!"
"Jesus, I know woman!"
Nye snorted. How could she not? She was getting to witness her grandmother bully Merle. A man who was so cocksure, getting sufficiently cowed by an older woman.
The bowl was dropped, Merle turning around and staring at her in shock. Elise did the same upon hearing the snort Nye had inherited from her. Covering her mouth, tears quickly misted her eyes as she gazed at her granddaughter.
But Nye was left staring into the eyes of a boy she mourned every day. Her baby brother, who she regretfully wished could have met her sons.
"Hey Squirt." She squeaked out, blinking fast to battle down the moisture working to block her vision.
Standing from his spot at the counter, Shepherd took a moment to simply look at her, from head to toe, every detail was taken in with rapt attention. As Nye did the same for him.
He was taller than her. She was getting to see him again, and he was taller than her.
In a flash Nye was being crushed in his arms, her body being minutely rocked. She floundered for a second, before clinging to him the same way.
"Aggy, you stupid idiot." Shepherd hissed thickly, burying his face in the crook of her neck.
Nye took a hitched breath, veering on the edge of a mess of sobs. "I know, I know, I'm so sorry I couldn't help-"
"Oh shut up!"
Nye blinked, suddenly being held back, forced to stare him in the face as he glared fiercely at her.
"Just stop that! Stop with the "I'm sorry I couldn't move time and space to help you! I'm so terrible!" Okay?! Stop it! It's getting tired!"
Nye couldn't think to do anything, her arms limply swinging at her sides as she opened and closed her mouth wordlessly.
"I meant, you're an idiot for not telling them you had a heart problem! The only reason we know is because Hershel told us!"
"Y-you met Hershel?" Was all Nye could think to say.
Shepherd gave her an unimpressed look. "Yes, I've met Hershel."
"O-oh…"
Before Nye could start questioning how Hershel knew, she was being pulled into the surprisingly strong arms of her grandmother.
"Oh baby, you poor thing." Elise cooed, before pulling back and smacking Nye across the side of the head. "Why do you have to be so fucking stubborn?!"
"Language." Merle mocked as he casually leaned against the counter.
"Merle, I am this close-"
"Am I dead?"
The three fell silent, all suddenly looking at Nye in a mixture of sympathy and grief.
She stared back at them, everything clicking into place. Why the house was so nice, why the air was fresh and sweet, why everyone she ever loved was here, as far as she could tell.
"Yes, Mouse. I'm sorry." Elise gently stroked Nye's freckled cheek.
Whatever comfort was provided by her ending up somewhere like this, like her own corner of heaven, was incinerated by the thoughts of people she left behind.
"Mason, Toby, Lydia, Carl, Judith, Ron…" Nye faintly listed, slowly lowering herself down on the stool Shepherd had been using. "Glenn, Maggie, Michonne, Rick, Daryl-"
Her hand came up over her mouth, her shoulders jerking.
"Daryl." She croaked, moving her hand away as she stared blankly at the countertop, tears rolling every time she blinked. "I just- We just-" she hung her head, covering her mouth again to stifle her anguish.
Nye felt a hand tentatively settle on her shoulder, gently pulling her close until she was leaning against their front. The hand felt hesitant, like they were unsure of themself, but Nye didn't care, turning her face to cry into the stained apron.
"We were go-going to be h-happy." She whimpered, knotting her fists into the apron. "I just wanted us t-to be happy together."
"I know, Shorty," Merle's hand moved to her head, slowly sliding down, before he put it back on top, and repeated the cycle. "I wanted him to be happy too."
What would this do to him? Her kids were strong and resilient. They would mourn, but ultimately bounce back. But Daryl, losing her not twenty-four hours after they finally came together, what would this do to him?
"What did you do to make her cry?"
Nye stiffened, slowly leaning away from Merle, who immediately shuffled back, lest his asshole persona be ruined.
Beth glared at Merle, then Shepherd, marching fully into the kitchen. She gently pulled Nye up off of the stool, fretfully checking her over.
"It was just hitting her s'all, don't blame the boys." Elise assuaged.
"Understandable," Following right after his daughter, Hershel entered. He was shaven, with his hair cut the same way it was when the group first met him. And if she were to guess, Nye would bet his leg was fully intact again, like Merle's hand. "It's disorienting at first."
A gentle hand tapping her arm pulled her out of her stupor, and Nye found herself at a loss of what to say. For so long she would have given anything to see these people again, and just sit down and talk. But here and now, it was overwhelming. Her head felt like it was empty, any possible conversations she had fantasized of having with these people, were now missing.
"I… I don't-"
Hershel cut her off with a raised hand, wearing a kind smile. "I think there's someone who should get to be the first to sit and talk with you."
Nye opened her mouth to ask who it was, but Shepherd, who was now grinning eagerly on her behalf, put a hand on the small of her back and pushed her forward.
"He's right, you should go see her."
"B-but Shep-"
"We can talk later, for now, go."
She was hesitant, but Nye started to follow Hershel out of the kitchen. He led her through a few more halls and rooms, giving the brunette a tour of the house subsequently as they took the long way back to the front door.
Hershel opened it, and Nye jumped.
"She's ready." Lori told Hershel, stepping through the door. She smiled widely at Nye, wasting no time enveloping her in a hug.
"Thank you," Lori whispered thickly, almost lifting the smaller woman off of the ground. "Thank you for looking out for them. For keeping them safe."
Nye weakly patted Lori on the back. "Of course, you'd have done the same for me."
"I think we've kept her waiting long enough." Hershel put a hand on Lori's back.
The woman sniffled, nodding as she pulled away. For a second Nye let her fret, fixing Nye's hair and straightening her dress, all very maternally. Nye would guess it was because she missed mothering her own children.
After she stepped back, she nodded encouragingly to Nye, she and Hershel leaving the door wide for her to go out.
Taking a deep breath to prepare for the unknown, Nye stood tall and marched out onto the front porch. Immediately she was hit with the wonderful smell of the outside, along with the sights and sounds that all seemed too perfect to be real.
And she supposed, now that she knew what this place was, it really was too good to be true.
A wooden creak came from her left, along with the sound of metal chains. She remembered seeing a wooden bench swing on the porch, and turned to sit, and wait for whoever this woman was that she was meant to talk to.
Nye stalled, body turned toward the swing, as she saw another woman already sitting there.
The woman was older than Nye herself, though she couldn't be much older than Carol. She was wearing a simple pair of washed out jeans, strappy sandals, and a fluttery white blouse. Her long blonde hair was loose, different strands swaying in different directions, blown by the wind. When she finally turned her head, looking at Nye, the brunette jolted.
The woman was incredibly familiar. Staring at her, Nye could almost swear she'd met this woman before. But she was positive she hadn't.
The woman swallowed visibly, her cheeks paling subtly. She scooted to the left, patting the free space on the bench to her right. Nye took the offered spot, never taking her eyes off of the woman. Once sat down, she noticed something glinting in the light, held in the woman's lap.
Nye stiffened, staring at the pieces of glass and leather.
"My goggles," She breathed, tensing defensively. "Where did you get those?"
The woman jumped, looking down at the item in her hands as if she forgot she was holding them. "O-oh, well… it was back in high school, actually. Shop class. They were the last pair picked."
Nye blinked once, lifting her head and peering at the woman suspiciously. "What are you talking ab-"
Like a stab through the chest, Nye's heart lurched as she suddenly remembered where she had seen this woman before.
It stared back at her every time she looked in the mirror.
The woman began to smile ever so slightly, biting her lip before it quirked into a crooked smile.
Nye, at a total loss for words, croaked one thing.
"Beverley?"
Beverley's smile twisted into a saddened one, as she sighed through her nose, looking away.
"I… I've been looking forward to meeting you for so long- Wait, no, that makes it sound like I've been waiting for you to die, which I haven't! What I'm trying to say is, I'm happy this happened- Us meeting! I mean, not you dying!"
Nye stared unblinkingly as Beverley stumbled over her words, hands emphatically waving as if trying to physically grasp the right thing to say. She was a complete awkward mess, cheeks flushed and word-barfing every thought that came to mind, all while trying to make the best impression.
It was exactly like-
"Me."
Beverley paused, hands halted middair. "What?"
Nye twitched, flushing a bit herself once realizing she had spoken aloud. "Uh, nothing."
"Oh."
The two sat, staring at each other with the same exact expression of desperate discomfort. Neither one knew what to say, or how to relate to the other. So they sat, lips pressed together with their cheeks puffed out minutely, hands fisted in their laps to keep them out of their hair.
Finally the two were broken from the standoff by a furry head flopping down onto Nye's lap. The brunette jumped with a yelp, but soon gasped in excitement when spotting the familiar white, brown, and black patterning of her favorite Saint Bernard.
"Sammy!" Nye giggled, smooshing around Samson's excess face skin, all while he happily thumped his tail on the porch.
"You like dogs?" Beverley broached, clearly latching onto the first subject presented.
"Of course." Nye's hands slowed, as she went from excited pats to gentle strokes of his fur. "And Samson here's one of the best."
Beverley hummed throatily, taking Nye's momentary distraction to watch her.
How would she have turned out, had she grown up with a loving mother?
"Niagara," Beverley tentatively said, drawing Nye's attention back. "Were you… I mean, did you have a good life?"
Nye paused, making Samson whine, and looked down at the porch, tracing over the chips and cracks in the wood with her glassy eyes.
"Yes. The best, I think."
A crease formed between Beverley's brows. "But… Martin, your scars, and that awful disease… how can you just-"
"Let it go?" Nye's lips turned up into a melancholy smile. "Easy. My kids. Ace, Smalls, Pup. Then there's Ron, a little angsty version of me I have to look after so he doesn't turn evil. The family I found, who I'd die for- who I guess I did die for. My… the man I…"
Beverley reached out, putting a hand on Nye's shoulder. "Merle's told me about him, he sounds wonderful, and exactly the right person for you."
"Yeah," Nye croaked, blinking fast and lifting her head. "He uh, he's…"
"If…"
Nye turned her head, concerned to see tears welling in Beverley's eyes.
"If you could go back, would you?"
"In an instant."
Beverley winced, but nodded nonetheless. She cleared her throat, moving her hand and using it to lovingly tuck a strand of hair behind Nye's ear. "Well, what if it meant you couldn't say goodbye? What if you had to leave right now, without going back in there and getting to be with everyone you lost again?"
Nye hesitated this time, mouth opening and closing wordlessly.
"You have to make a choice, Niagara, right now."
"I would." Nye whispered, frowning heavily. "But why-"
Beverley gently cupped her cheek, turning her head out toward the yard. Now sitting there, was Daryl's old motorcycle, the one once belonging to Merle. It faced out, away from the property.
"We'll see each other again." Beverley said in a forced cheerful tone. "But your family still needs you."
"B-but they said I died." Nye stood, stepping over Samson's relaxed form and stumbling over to the railing, staring at the motorcycle.
"Almost. If you stay here, you will. But… it's not too late to leave."
Nye whirled around, eyes wide and uncertain. "This is- you said-"
Beverley stood. "You can't go back inside, if you do, this chance will be gone. You have to decide, now. Will you stay, or go back?"
Nye knew what her choice was immediately, but that didn't make it any easier to leave everyone behind.
Beverley seemed to know too, smiling tightly and taking Nye's hand. She walked to the stairs of the porch, leading Nye down with her to the motorcycle. Once standing in front of it, Nye tensed.
The brunette chose to do something she had wanted to do for as long as she could remember. Turning and engulfing her mother in a pained hug.
"I'm sorry Mama."
Beverley took a hitched breath, closing her eyes and holding tighter back. "Don't be, I've waited this long to get to know you, I can wait longer."
Nye pulled away, biting her bottom lip to keep it from quivering.
Beverley leaned in to kiss her forehead, and pulled away with a more sincere upturn of her lips. "And I look forward to meeting all the people who made my daughter smile everyday. Go, we'll be here for you when you get back."
Nye nodded once, throwing a leg over the side of the motorcycle, and awkwardly gripped the high handles. She had only ever driven it once before, after wearing Daryl down to let her try it. She absently wondered if Merle knew she had nearly crashed it when given the chance, on accident of course.
Revving it up, Nye was relieved when she was given no trouble, it doing exactly what she needed it to do without her having to actually know how to do it. It surged forward, and Nye let out a yelp in surprise as she took off. Halfway down the stretch of dirt road, she couldn't fight off the urge to glance back. Faintly, she could make out Beverley standing in front of the porch still, now accompanied by several others who must've heard the engine. But none of them called out to her, or tried to give chase to keep her there, lifting a weight from her shoulders.
Pumpkin was passed, appearing like nothing but an orange blur, and Nye soon found herself back on the rough road Dale had driven her down. She didn't know how far or how long she needed to go, but had a feeling she would know when it came time.
...
"Nye!"
With a gasp, the brunette shot upright, hacking and clutching her dry throat when the action caused dull pain. Lifting her head, Nye peered around at the room, finding it to resemble the one in the first Saw movie to an unsettling degree. In front of her crouched Carol, who now looked monumentally relieved.
"Thank God. Come on, we have to go."
Sputtering half baked questions, like where they were or what happened, Nye was jerked to her feet. She felt lightheaded, and her heart was back to feeling sluggish in her chest, unlike the dream she had been having, that was slipping from her memory by the second.
It was a dream, wasn't it?
With only a whisper of it left lingering in her mind, Nye wondered why she felt so calm, even in an obviously dire situation. Carol was hurriedly ripping away the duck tape wrapped around her wrists, already having freed herself.
"W-what happened? Where are we?" Nye slurred. Her tongue heavy in her mouth.
Carol kneeled, freeing her ankles as well while Nye tried to stay upright. "We got taken, you, me, and Maggie. I don't know where exactly."
Nye paled, latching onto Carol's shoulders as the older woman stood. "Where is she? Is she okay?"
Carol shook her head with misty eyes. "I don't know."
Before Nye could shoot off any more questions, like how long she had been unconscious, Carol was leading her to the metal door. Behind her Nye thought she caught a glimpse of a man lying on the floor, his left sleeve soaked in blood.
She peeked out, opening it and sidestepping the dead Walker on the floor right outside. Nye stuck close, though her arms and legs felt stiff and weak, like cold tar was trudging through her veins.
They followed the sound of a struggle, stopping just shy of turning the corner. Carol peered out, holding up a hand to signal for Nye to wait.
"Just a sec, sugar." A thick voice, that of an older woman's assured. The wheezy snarling of a Walker could be heard, assumably what she was talking to.
After hearing the all too familiar squish of a Walker's mushy temple being stabbed, they heard thick wet hacking followed by muttered curses. They waited for the woman's persistent coughing to fade down one of the grimy hallways, before running out and swinging open every door in sight. Upon Carol opening the fourth one, there was an audible sigh of relief.
Maggie stood alone in the room, where in the center were two chairs facing each other. She had clearly been interrogated, but not tortured mercifully. Maggie held her hands out for Carol to free, all while giving Nye a wide-eyed once over.
"You okay? Your head hurt? Anything?" Maggie asked first, nerves leaking through into her voice.
Nye shook her head slowly. "Uh, no, why?"
A crease formed between Maggie's brows, and she looked questioningly to Carol.
"Does she not remem-"
"No time, let's go." Carol finished freeing Maggie's legs, pulling her along by her arm.
Maggie grabbed Nye's elbow before Carol all but hauled her out of the room.
"They've spread out, but I think we can make it past them." Carol explained, sending a glance back at the two. "We have to try."
"We can't leave them alive." Maggie argued lowly.
"No, we should just go." Carol turned, stopping to look imploringly at Maggie.
Nye couldn't grasp why Carol wouldn't want to kill these people. The people who took them and threatened their family just by being in the same vicinity.
"Carol, we have to finish this. We have to." Maggie snapped back, barely higher than a whisper.
Carol bit her lip, shifting her weight. With a deep trembling breath she turned, giving no indication whether she was conceding or refusing to give in. They kept on, creeping through the mildew smelling building, trying to remember every hallway they went down in hopes of not stumbling upon any Walkers like Nye and Carol heard that woman fighting. They didn't need to call attention to themselves with a needless fight when all they had was Carol's sharpened rosary cross.
Slipping back into the room Nye was awoken in, the brunette was met with what she thought she saw earlier. A man on the floor, a messy tourniquet doing a poor job at keeping the blood from leaking out of the gunshot wound Carol had given him back in the woods. Maggie ran over, undoing the knot and loosening the tourniquet almost completely. Immediately blood pooled around the pale man's shoulder.
The man rasped a breath, but the white complexion and redness around his eyes made Maggie check his pulse. Like she assumed, there was none.
"He was already dead. He's turning."
"We should go." Carol said, staring down at the man with hollow eyes.
"We can't leave this room without a weapon." Nye looked around the room, not expecting much. No one was stupid enough to leave anything dangerous behind with hostages.
"I have an idea." Maggie said, using the rope that had been the man's tourniquet and tying one end around his belt. They other two caught on quickly, helping to drag the hefty man over to the door, all while keeping a watchful eye on how fast he was turning. By the time they finished securing the other end of the rope on a nearby pipe, his fingers were already twitching.
The plan worked as expected, as the one woman with the thick voice and cough stepped into the room, none the wiser. The man, now Walker, lunged and sunk his teeth into the woman's right forearm, blood gushing and splattering all across her front, even reaching her chin, as he took out a mighty chunk before she could shove him off. She didn't hesitate sticking her knife in his left eye, as she snarled back at him.
"Eat shit and die, Donnie!" She spat, then turned to the now empty room. "Where are ya, Magnolia?! I wanna bloody up that nice-" Before she could finish, Maggie appeared behind her. She held no regard for the older woman, bracing an arm around her neck and swiping the gun in her belt. Maggie then turned it on the woman, using the handle to knock her out with a blow to the side of the head. When the woman fell Maggie kneeled beside her, bringing the handle down several times, caving in the back of the woman's head.
Nye winced every time it came down, not because of the sound or gore, but because of how desperate and feral Maggie's croaked grunting was.
Once finished, Maggie stood and shook the hair out of her face, specks of blood littered there. She nodded to the door, muttering a quiet "Let's go."
Nye wasn't sure why Carol bothered to grab her hand again before proceeding on, as she didn't do the same for Maggie, who was much more important. But that didn't mean Nye stopped her.
Unfortunately, any exit they found was blocked by a cluster of Walkers, held in place with chains, or more brutally, poles being impaled through their torsos to keep them from wandering throughout the dingy building.
Carol sighed at the sight of them. "They're using them to keep us in, keep the others out."
"It's risky on their part," Nye pointed out, gesturing to the Walker closest to them, the hole in its middle making a squelching sort of sound. One strong pull and it could get free. "They're just asking for one sneaking away." She thought back to the prison, how it had nearly come undone by one stray Walker.
"Come on. We have to find 'em." Maggie grabbed a Walker, fisting its wiry hair and stabbing it through the underside of its jaw.
Blood sprayed, as the Walker next to Carol was shot down, hitting the ground at the same time as the three women. They all looked back to see Paula, the ginger haired leader of the group who kidnapped them, aiming her gun at Carol with a furious snarl. She kept shooting, only managing to hit the wall and undead, something that seriously angered her, evident by the way she growled as she tossed her empty pistol aside.
With a start, Nye recognized the black pistol, a wave of enragement warming her body. It only made sense for them to be patted down and their weapons to be taken away upon their abduction, but knowing someone like the ginger had been using the pistol gifted to her all that time ago, it made Nye take a shuddering breath in order to remain level headed.
That gun meant so much to her. Not only because it was given to her by Daryl even before they could be classified as friends, but because of what it represented. The initials on the bottom were a constant reminder of what she fought for.
M. T. D. L.
The hammer of the gun Carol held clicked as she leveled it with Paula's chest. Then, to Nye's utter anger and astonishment, she pleaded.
"Just run." Carol said, not yet pulling the trigger.
"Shoot her." Maggie slowly stood, again confusing Nye by shuffling the shorter brunette behind her, as if she was the one needing protecting.
"Go on, do it." Paula egged on, chin trembling with an emotion Nye couldn't pin. "You've killed Donnie, you've killed Molly. Your people have destroyed my home."
"Get out of here." Carol whispered.
"Carol." Nye hissed, eyes never leaving the approaching woman.
"You have no idea. The things I've done, what I've given up, what I had to do."
"Just run."
"Carol, shoot her."
"Go ahead. I've already lost everything."
The Walker Nye had previously gestured to, the one she assumed could get out, did. It broke free, landing on Carol before anyone could stop it. As it did, it made Carol tense, accidentally pulling the trigger as she fell. The ginger woman shouted and reared back, the bullet catching her squarely in her left shoulder.
Nye knew how badly that could hurt.
Before the Walker could even think of biting down, Maggie shoved her blade through its skull.
A door down the hall to their left squeaked open, followed by another woman's voice.
"Paula? Paula? Molly?"
Maggie hugged the wall, slowly inching toward the voice with her bloodied knife raised. Nye wanted to stop her, take the knife and deal with the woman herself to avoid endangering her and the baby further, but she got preoccupied by Paula, who was on the floor holding her wound. She was sitting up, throat rasping once, and before she could try again to call out to her ally, Nye swiftly kicked her in the throat. Her gasps and wheezes couldn't be overheard with the Walkers filling the hallway.
Maggie's attempt to kill the other woman without much fuss didn't work as planned. While she managed to knock the gun out of her hand, Maggie was unable to get the woman with the knife, being taken on, hand-to-hand as the woman continued to successfully deflect the blade all while throwing haphazard kicks upward.
Nye saw the horrible outcome of one of those kicks landing in her mind, memories of her days working at the hospital coming back, specifically the sickening ones of mothers miscarrying due to blunt force trauma to the stomach. Tossing aside any thoughts of concern over her own wellbeing, Nye threw herself forward, tackling the woman to the floor. It didn't even cross her mind that Maggie had been holding a knife, poised to kill, which she easily could have landed on.
Her more pressing issue now was not getting tossed aside, especially with how small she was compared to the strongly built woman under her. Without a weapon and without much physical strength on her side, Nye resorted to something she had seen on some self defense show years ago, only remembering it because of how horrifying of an idea it was at the time. Now though, she had dealt with far worse.
While the woman grappled and wrapped her hands around Nye's throat, trying to choke her out, Nye lifted her hands to the sides of the woman's head, clenching her teeth as she geared herself up for what she was about to do, as well as try to stay conscious with lack of air.
The woman couldn't do anything in time once noticing what Nye was doing, not fast enough to stop Nye's thumbs from striking down into her eyes.
The scream was almost worse than the feeling. Nye closed her own eyes, turning her head away and fighting down the gag building on the back of her tongue. The woman had let go of her neck, instead trying to pull Nye's hands away, but either due to pain or hysteria, she couldn't wrestle them off. With a grimace, the brunette shoved down harder, feeling resistance, before something tore, and suddenly she was knuckle deep. The woman stopped moving, and Nye didn't know if it was because the pain was too much, or she had died.
Nye panted, yanking her hands up and stumbling to her feet. She stared at her hands, and the blood coating them. She had just gouged someone's eyes out with her bare hands, and she didn't even know the woman's name. The object horror she had felt for Maggie was fading, and with it gone Nye felt self disgust take its place.
Oh God, what would the kids think if they could see me?
"Nye, come on." Maggie gently coaxed her, reaching out and hovering a hesitant hand just over Nye's forearm.
She blinked blankly at the body, staggering to her feet and turning away from the horrific sight. Stepping back into the hallway blocked by Walkers, Nye took stilted breaths through her mouth and out her nose. Her thumbs absentmindedly ran over her index fingers, spreading the blood over more area.
Paula groaned, and Maggie went to pick up the other woman's gun.
Carol stopped her. "I'll do it." She held her gun up, pointed at Paula's head. But she still didn't shoot.
"Y-you're both full of surprises." Paula spat, shuffling awkwardly in an attempt to stand. "Two nervous little birds, or, you were. But not now, right?" She managed to get up, leaning on the wall for support. "Me too."
Carol shook her head, a tear rolling down her cheek. "I told you to run."
"If you could do all this, what were you so afraid of, Carol?"
Carol slowly stepped closer to Paula, lips parted in a look of remorse. "I was afraid of this."
Paula laughed, the cadence unhinged. But it cut off, as she whipped an arm out, slapping away the gun and slamming Carol against the wall with a strangled shout.
Carol elbowed her in the neck, spinning her around and throwing her own weight onto Paula, sending her against the wall now. The two wrestled with each other, both evenly matched as they had similar body types, so it was difficult to throw the other around. Carol, perhaps inspired by what she just witnessed Nye do, jammed her thumb into the bullet hole in Paula's shoulder. The woman screamed, trying to pull away, but was unable to with her back to the wall. Using the momentary break from the struggle, Carol fisted Paula's sleeves, shoving her away with a grunt. None of them expected Paula to end up being pierced by one of the pointed pipes, let alone on the same one already housing a Walker.
Nye turned away, covering her ears in a moment of near child-like weakness. She didn't want to hear any more screams of agony or horror. She just wanted silence.
The radio crackled from where it was hooked on Paula's belt, and Carol quickly took it, while blinking away tears.
"Paula, we're approaching the perimeter. Are we a go?" The man over the radio asked, and Carol finally lifted the device to her trembling lips.
Paula's screams died out, fading along with her life. She slumped forward, her face being chewed by the Walker she was pierced next to.
"Do you copy?"
Carol cleared her throat. "Meet us on the kill floor." She deepened her voice to mimic Paula, face crumbling into despair with the acceptance of what they had to do now.
Slowly trailing behind Carol and Maggie, Nye stopped in the middle of the hall, leaning down and picking up her gun. Checking it over, she ran a bloody thumb over the handle, grimacing at the smear of crimson it left behind.
She didn't know what the plan was yet, but she didn't have a good feeling about it.
…
Rightfully so.
Sitting hidden away in a side room, Nye sat on the floor, her back to the wall while hugging herself tightly. The stench of gasoline hung in the air, and she came to the conclusion that after today, she wasn't going to like the smell of it anymore. Not now.
"I think I might have killed eighteen people." Carol croaked to the two, just loud enough to be heard. "Twenty." She corrected brokenly. "I should've killed Donnie, too, in the woods. I had a clear shot. I didn't miss. None of this would've happened if I had just killed him."
Maggie stared vacantly ahead. "Don't think about it."
"I can't stop."
"We're almost done."
It was hard to take that as a comfort.
Nye knotted her hands in her hair, uncaring that she was getting blood in the tangles. "...lost count. I lost count. Started with Harvey Wheeler and now I don't know." She hated that she didn't know. Remembering her advice given to Merle. The bad people don't keep track.
A door opened down the corridor outside theirs, several sets of footfalls and male murmurs accompanying it. The backup had arrived.
"Careful. The floor's slick."
"You sure this is it?"
"She said kill floor."
A door handle jingled. "Hey, this one's locked."
Carol exhaled quietly, putting a cigarette in her mouth and pulling out a lighter. With one last misty-eyed look shared between the three, she lit the cigarette, taking it out of her mouth and tossing it through the crack in the door right before they all slammed it shut, locking the men inside as the room went up in flame.
"What the hell?!"
Carol looked over her shoulder, through the dusty glass window in the metal door, the fire light reflecting on her face, casting flickering shadows. More screams filled the building, the men inside the room left with nothing to do but burn.
Nye felt the heat on her back, the fire warming the door quickly. She felt sick when her mind drew the connection between this and what her father used to do to her when he was alive. It wasn't the same, but it was similar enough in broad strokes that it made her body go numb.
She welcomed the shock gladly.
Maggie trudged forward, truly the strongest of the three, and led them behind her. The agonized screams followed them, echoing throughout the building, seemingly reaching every corner, until they were eventually silenced one by one. The smell was even worse, pervading along with the smoke drifting through the vents.
Nye was reminded of Karen and David's charred remains. How she was walking side-by-side with the one who did it. And yet she couldn't bring herself to think ill of Carol, even after everything. She was family, come hell or high water, even if that meant looking past things once considered unthinkable.
Back to the exit, Maggie stabbed Paula's reanimated corpse in the temple, doing the same to a few others reaching for them. She stomped down on the heads of any laying on the floor, crushing them under her shoes and leaving behind gory puddles. With the rusted door clear, she gripped the handhold and slid it open with a metal screech.
Nye blinked, one second staring blankly ahead at the metal door, and the next she was looking in the eyes of the man she loved.
Her knees buckled.
"Hey, hey, I got you." Daryl rasped thickly, swooping toward her and catching her in an embrace. He hiked her up, one hand on the small of her back, and the other threading through her hair.
Nye broke, choking a weak apology as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, clinging to him like a lifeline.
Paul stood back, watching the interaction as Nye seemed to have completely forgotten that he was there, choosing to go to Daryl first immediately. He wasn't upset about it, in fact he was elated. Or, he would be, if things hadn't gone the way they had today. Not to mention the growing problem pumping away behind Nye's left breast.
"They're dead. They're all dead, the ones that took us. They're all dead." Maggie's voice cracked, wavering at the heavy concern on her husband's face.
"Hey, are you okay?"
"I just... I can't anymore."
"It's okay. It's okay." Glenn took her in his arms.
Rosita and Michonne both sidled up next to Carol, talking to the distraught woman in hushed words, with tentative frowns.
Daryl tried to pull back, just enough to look her over, but Nye whimpered into his neck. The sound twisted something in his chest, and he chose to hold her protectively to him as long as she needed. He probably needed it too, after the panic he had gone through as well.
"Your friends are dead." Rick coldly spoke to the man they had brought for the trade. "No one's coming for you. So you might as well talk."
"Let him burn." Daryl growled, rubbing soothing circles on Nye's back when she flinched at the word choice.
"I'm gonna ask you one last time... how'd you get the bike?"
"We found it."
"Like hell you did." Daryl spat over her shoulder.
"We found it." The man repeated.
Rick leaned to hiss into the man's ear. "Was Negan in that building last night or was he here?"
The man actually cracked a smile. "Both. I'm Negan, shithead. There's a whole world of fun that we can talk about, so let's have a chat-"
"I'm sorry it had to come to this."
Rick fired his Colt Python point blank into the man's forehead, killing him instantly.
Sensory overload had long since been hitting her, and the gunshot bouncing off of the metal walls didn't help. Nye flinched and whimpered again, trying to hide herself away in Daryl's arms. He obliged, pressing his mouth close to her ear, whispering a soft "Hold on," and lifted her higher, hooking his left arm under her legs and bracing his right firmly over her back. The position was familiar, and brought a sense of calm, like a cozy blanket after a day in the freezing cold.
A puff of air hit her neck, and she shivered.
Nye kept her face ducked, chest warming with the realization that this was the first time Daryl had carried her when she wasn't seriously hurt or endangered. It was a nice feeling, being so aware of it happening for once.
She was ignorant of the heavy stare Rick was shooting at her, same with the defensive way Daryl angled her away from sight, giving the former sheriff a firm look back.
They had many things to discuss back home. And Nye was none the wiser to the storm brewing.
(If Rick could get a crazy dream as he "died" with people from his past then so can Nye)
Dude, was I the only one who, when watching this episode for the first time, thought that Michelle (the woman Nye killed in this version) would live and turn out to be one of Glenn's previously mentioned sisters? Like, how messed up and possibly amazing would that have been? This woman who is bitter and hates Maggie for being pregnant still with a healthy baby, wants to kill her. Just imagine how it could have played out, with her realizing that who she was interrogating was her sister-in-law who is pregnant with her nephew, just, like, dude
