AN: Hey, everybody! Something about this pandemic made me want to re-watch all the early seasons of TWD, which in turn made me want to write this story! I plan to follow the basic plot line of the series, so some of the dialogue will remain the same in scenes I consider essential. I in no way claim any of the dialogue, characters, events, plot, etc. from the series to be of my own creation.
This story will be from the perspective of my OC Sarah and everyone's favorite Daryl. Odd chapters will be the OC and evens will be Daryl. I feel like the story might seem slow at first, but stick with me! I'm really proud of some of the chapters to come that I've already written. I hope you enjoy!
"You know if you'd fidget a bit less, this wouldn't hurt so much right?"
Sarah's little sister Grace was sitting cross-legged on the ground in front of her, groaning dramatically as her sister ran a brush through the rat's nest that was starting to take over her head of hair.
"Well, it'd also hurt less if you didn't brush so hard," Grace fired back.
Sarah's eyes narrowed. "Well, I wouldn't have to brush so hard if you'd let me brush it more often."
Grace jerked away, turning around to glare at her. "Well, who said you have to brush it at all in the first place?"
"Me, that's who. Now get back over here."
Grace stood up and crossed her arms. "No."
Sarah groaned, standing up as well and throwing the brush back onto the chair. "God, you are such a child!"
"Girls," she heard her father's voice call. "What's going on over here?"
Sarah took a deep breath. "Nothing, Daddy. I was just finishing up doing Grace's hair."
Their father, Pete, walked closer. "Doesn't look anywhere near finished to me."
Sarah smiled at him. "I was just giving her a break."
Pete looked between them, taking in Grace's still defensive posture. "Well maybe don't be so damn loud when you start again." Then he looked back at Sarah. "I need to talk to you."
Sarah sighed. "Sure thing, Daddy. Grace, go check on Mattie, okay?"
Grace grumbled a bit, but she still stomped off to where their little brother was drawing pictures in the dirt with a stick. She grabbed herself a stick as well and plopped down next to him.
Her dad grabbed her arm and led her further away. "If Daryl isn't back tonight with some food, I'm going out hunting tomorrow."
"Oh," Sarah replied, rubbing her arm nervously. "Are you sure?"
He shot her a reproachful look. "I can take care of myself. You know that."
Sarah looked at the ground. "Yeah, yeah, I do."
"It was stupid of him not to let me come in the first place. He's a prick," Pete muttered. "Saying I'm too loud like I haven't been hunting my whole life…"
"I think he just likes to be alone," Sarah suggested, knowing that her father's pride was easily wounded. Her dad had been shot in the leg while on duty a few years back. Nothing too serious, but it left him with a pretty bad limp. And a strong liking for painkillers.
"Still stupid," he replied.
"Yeah," she conceded quietly. "The kids get scared when you're gone."
"Well, you've just got to find a way to deal with that," Pete answered gruffly.
Sarah nodded. It was hard being the oldest, especially now. Grace was eleven and Mattie was barely eight. She was only nineteen herself, but their mother had died almost four years ago. That meant she'd been the closest thing they'd had to a mom for a while now, but that had been a much easier role to fill when there was a grocery store right down the road and a real roof over their heads.
"I haven't decided when I'll leave," her father added.
"Okay, just let me know."
Her dad put his hand on the small of her back and pulled her in for a hug. "I will," he responded, kissing her on the forehead.
Then Sarah suddenly pulled away.
"What are you…" her father began.
"Do you hear that?" she asked.
Suddenly everyone in the campsite around them was in motion.
"Talk to me Dale!" she heard Shane yell as he ran towards the trailer.
Sarah ran over to Grace and Mattie. Grace had jumped up and was looking around, while Mattie was still sitting on the ground, starting to look a bit panic-stricken. Sarah grabbed him and hulled him to his feet.
"Hey, it's okay. I'm sure everything's fine," she assured him, stroking his hair. Still, she found her other hand twitching towards the pocket knife she kept in her back pocket.
"What is it?" she heard Amy asking anxiously. She'd been fretting over her how long it was taking the group to return from their supply run. Amy and her sister Andrea were a lot like Sarah and Grace. They both grated on each other's nerves, but they'd never let anything happen to the other.
"A stolen car is my guess," Dale replied, and Sarah sighed in relief, loosening her grip on Mattie a tiny bit. She kept him close, though.
Suddenly a bright red sports car pulled into camp, alarm blaring, and Sarah tightened her grip again. Others were walking towards the car, but she kept Grace and Mattie back, glancing around into the woods surrounding them. Loud noises often brought unwelcome guests nowadays.
Glenn popped out of the car alone, a big smile plastered on his face. Sarah's father and Shane were demanding that Glenn pop the hood, while Amy was frantically questioning Glenn about her sister. After Pete disconnected the alarm, she could hear Glenn respond that everyone was fine.
"Well, Merle not so much," he admitted.
"What the hell is wrong with you, boy?" Pete yelled. "Driving this wailing bastard into camp? Are you tryin' to draw every walker for miles?"
"I think we're okay," Dale assured him, level-headed as always.
"You call being a fucking idiot okay?" Pete demanded.
"Well that alarm was echoing all over these hills," Dale explained. "Hard to pinpoint the source."
Pete gave him a cold look.
Dale held up his hand. "I'm not arguing. I'm just saying." He turned to Glenn. "It wouldn't hurt you to think things through a little more carefully next time, would it?"
"Sorry," Glenn sighed. "Got a cool car." A huge grin stretched across his face as he gestured to the beauty in front of him.
Pete slammed the hood shut. "Fucking idiot," he repeated as he started walking back towards Sarah and the kids.
A truck pulled up to the camp. Andrea immediately jumped out and ran to hug her sister. Miranda, Eliza, and Louis all ran to hug Morales when he emerged. Jacqui and T-Dog got out, too, receiving various hugs and welcoming claps on the back from the group. Merle was nowhere to be seen. Sarah figured from Glenn's comment that he must be dead. She wondered if she should feel bad that she didn't really care that much.
Pete grabbed her shoulder. "Come on, let's go back to our tent."
She nodded, putting her hands on Grace and Mattie's shoulders. "Let's go," she whispered, as she turned them around and starting leading them away.
"Dad!" Carl suddenly yelled. "Dad!"
Sarah whipped around to see him and Lori charging towards a man in an officer's uniform. "Is that Rick?" she asked her father, squinting her eyes to get a better look.
Pete had been a member of the King County police force since Sarah was born. Their family had found themselves stuck on the highway near Shane, Carl, and Lori when they were all trying to make their way to the safe zone in Atlanta. They had decided to set up camp together that night after they watched as the bombs were dropped on the city, destroying their only hope of refuge. They'd all been together since.
"I'll be damned," her dad replied. "It sure is."
Later that night, the group was sitting around the fire while Rick told them about his escape from the hospital and how he came to be with the group in Atlanta. Pete was in one of their foldable chairs while Sarah sat next him with Mattie starting to nod off in her lap. Grace sat in front of her pulling tufts of grass up out of the dirt.
"Have you given any thought to Daryl Dixon?" Dale asked during a pause in the conversation. "He won't be happy to hear his brother was left behind."
"I'll tell him," T-Dog responded. "I dropped the key. It's on me."
Rick shook his head. "I cuffed him. That makes him mine."
"Guys, it's not a competition," Glenn interjected. "I don't mean to bring race into this, but… well, it might sound better coming from a white guy."
T-Dog sighed. "I did what I did. Hell if I'm gonna hide from him."
"We could lie," Amy suggested, lifting her head off her sister's shoulder.
"Or tell the truth," Andrea countered. "Merle was out of control. Something had to be done, or he'd have gotten us killed." She looked at Lori. "Your husband did what was necessary. And if Merle got left behind, it is nobody's fault but Merle's."
"And that's what we should tell Daryl?" Dale asked doubtfully. "I don't see a rational discussion to be had from that, do you?"
Andrea sighed and shook her head.
Suddenly, Pete stood up. "Come on, Sarah, kids. We're going to bed."
Sarah nodded, prodding Mattie awake before helping him to his feet. She held him against her as they starting making their way towards their pair of tents.
"Word to the wise," she heard Dale add as they walked away. "We're gonna have our hands full when he gets back from his hunt."
Sarah knew he was right. Honestly, she hoped she wasn't around to see Daryl's reaction. Maybe she'd take the kids down to the quarry for the day. Daryl wasn't nearly as volatile as his brother, but it wasn't exactly hard to be calmer than Merle Dixon. Both of the brothers had short fuses and just a general lack of decorum. If one of them was pissed, you were going to know it.
Though, Sarah had to admit to herself that she could hardly blame Daryl if his temper got the better of him tomorrow or whenever he got back from his hunt. How would she react to the news that her brother was dead? But also, her brother wasn't Merle Dixon, asshole extraordinaire. He was a sweet little kid who she was currently tucking into a little train-covered sleeping bag.
"Sarah," he asked her quietly, smiling up at her as she covered him with another blanket. She'd never met such a happy little kid. "Will you sing? Pretty please?"
She couldn't help but return his sweet smile. "Sure baby. Who do you want to hear?"
Grace groaned dramatically, rolling over so her back was facing her siblings. "I'm trying to sleep."
Sarah rolled her eyes. "You literally just laid down. Deal with it."
"Nevermind," Mattie told her quickly. "It's okay."
Mattie always hated it when they fought.
"No," Grace conceded, turning to look at her brother, "I'm fine. Go ahead."
"Sunshine!" Mattie immediately exclaimed excitedly.
Sarah smiled. She knew immediately which song he wanted, so she started quietly singing, watching as her brother quietly faded as the song went on.
The other night, dear, as I lay sleeping
I dreamed I held you in my arms
When I awoke, dear, I was mistaken
So I hung my head and I cried
You are my sunshine, my only sunshine
You make me happy when skies are gray
You'll never know, dear, how much I love you
Please don't take my sunshine away
Honestly, she'd never really known why he liked that song so much. It was such a sad song to Sarah. But maybe he just liked the idea of sunshine. Or maybe he was just able to find the beauty in it. That was something Mattie had always been good at, finding the ray of light in everything. He was her own little sunshine.
She made it through the whole song a couple of times before she was satisfied that Mattie had fully drifted off. She quietly reminded Grace to turn off their lantern when she finished reading, then left to go to the tent next-door that she shared with their father.
He was already in there, laying on his side as he flipped through an old Guns and Ammo magazine; he'd never been one for lullabies or bedtime stories.
"They asleep?" he grunted when she walked in.
"Yes, sir." She knew he wouldn't approve of Grace saying up to read, so she never told him. Grace might get on her nerves a solid ninety percent of the time, but sometimes sisters just had to watch out for each other.
He just nodded in response, setting his magazine to the side. "I think maybe we should leave."
Grace's head snapped up, startled. "What?"
"We could make it on our own. This place is a shitshow. Daryl might just burn down the camp when he finds out what happened to his headass brother," Pete just shook his head, clearly not concerned over Merle's fate. "Besides, that dumb oriental boy made sure every walker in the area knows where we are now."
Sarah winced a bit at that. She liked Glenn. She hadn't talked to him much, but he was always nice. Maybe a bit excitable and even ditzy at times, but a good guy.
Then Sarah looked past her father to the corner of the tent by his head. She recognized the amber glint of a bottle of whiskey, one from his not-so-secret stash. His sudden desire to split from the group probably had more to do with Jack Daniels than with Glenn Rhee or Daryl Dixon.
"I'm tired. Maybe we can talk about it in the morning," she suggest, though really she was just hoping to avoid an alcohol-fueled argument.
"Aight."
She was grateful and honestly a bit surprised he let it drop so easily. She was worried he was going to start round two a few minutes later when he spoke again, but luckily he just wanted to make one request.
"I want you to stay away from Daryl Dixon when he goes back to camp. The man's gonna be a powder keg when he hears the new."
"Sure thing, Daddy," she answered easily, certain that wasn't going to be a hard promise to keep.
AN: Hope you enjoyed the first chapter! I already have about 20,000 words written of this story and a basic outline through Season 4, but I have to fill in a lot of spaces, so I hope to update every few days. Things really start to pick up in this story in Season 2, so I'm going to go through Season 1 pretty quickly. I just think you need Season 1 for background. Also, Carol does not exist in this story because (spoiler) a major part of Carol's storyline in Season 2 will become Sarah's. Anyway, cheers!
Sincerely,
Gemina