Time changes all things,

There is no reason for feelings of the heart to be exempt

Daryl

I throw myself into the efforts to clean up Alexandria, trying not only to distract myself, but also to avoid Blaire. Since our conversation in the infirmary being around her feels weird. I don't know what to say to her or how to act. The things that once seemed easy and natural between us now feel forced. The brunette, who I was just starting to feel comfortable opening up to, now seems like a stranger. Blaire doesn't force the conversation or purposely put herself into situations with me, which I appreciate. I need time to figure out why I'm feeling this way.

"Are you two fighting again?" Carol questions, helping me load a walker into the truck we've been using to transport the bodies outside the walls.

I shake my head, dropping my gaze as Blaire passes, coming back from her morning shift in the guard tower, "Naw."

"Then why are you back on Rick's couch?"

Sliding my arms under another of the dead, I lift it off the ground, "She's changed."

"How so?" Carol presses, using a broom to scrub at the bloodstains littering the streets.

Dumping the walker into the truck bed, I turn and look at my friend. She's not going to drop this until she gets all the answers. For some reason, Carol has taken an interest in the interaction between Blaire and me. "Don't know. She's better, don't need me around to remind her that she's stronger than all this. That night we got back she told me she was tired of fightin', said we needed to let each other in."

"Do you want to let her in?"

I knew the question was coming. With time to think about it, I've decided that Blaire and I were brought together for a reason. Letting her in could be good for me. I've never trusted easily, but something about Blaire makes me want to. Her smile and the way her eyes watch me lets me know she understands on a level that most people don't. "Think so."

"So what's the problem, Daryl?"

"Whole thing feels weird," I admit, knowing Carol isn't going to judge my feelings. "Don't know what to say to her."

My friend grins, "The same things you did before. It's okay to trust her. You two are helping each other. You're good for her. She's good for you. You can't move backward."

"She ain't afraid anymore."

Carol nods, resting her hand on my shoulder, "That's good. Are you?"

To trust in this world is dangerous. People turn; they protect themselves, caring little for the safety of others. I've seen it too many times. Despite this, I know I need to let people in. A life of pushing others away did me no good. It made me bitter, angry. Once, I trusted, listened to my heart instead of the fear constantly swirling through my thoughts. Blaire makes me want to do that again. She cares deeply for people, giving more to them than to herself. Blaire, like me, is searching for that place she belongs. Letting her in is something we both need. "Ain't scared."

My friend gives me an approving nod as Blaire starts in our direction. She wears a cheery smile, carrying a bucket filled with what appears to be fruit, "I come with lunch. It's not much, but it's what we have. I think I'm gonna make a trip back to where I used to get supplies from, see if there's anything left."

"No," the word comes out before I have time to stop it. Blaire turns to me, raising an eyebrow. Quickly, I try and backtrack, not wanting to start out our new roles together sounding like an ass. "I mean I'll do it. No, let me go with you. It's dangerous. Shouldn't be out there alone. Not with everything, Negan. People."

The brunette stands patiently, letting me stumble over my words, a friendly smile hanging on her lips, "Okay, as long as you promise to relearn how to form a sentence between now and then."

"I think he's been out in the sun for too long," behind me, Carol stifles a laugh at Blaire's jab.

The brunette hands Carol an apple from the basket, "Well, he knows where the couch is if he ever wants to get out of the sun."

As Blaire disappears down the street, Carol elbows me, offering a sympathetic look, "She wants you to spend time with her."

"Got stuff here ta do," I answer back, gaze remaining on Blaire as she hands out fruit to the others gathered in the street working to clean up Alexandria.

Most of the bodies have been loaded into the trucks or carried beyond the walls. The blood that runs through the streets is beginning to disappear, draining into the grates in the road or mopped up. If it weren't for the fallen church steeple, our home would look like the events of the other night never happened.

Carol rolls her eyes, leaning on the handle of her mop, "Things here are under control. Go."

Giving a last glance to the truck full of bodies, I head up the street towards the brunette. She spins, smiling as I approach. She shifts the fruit basket to one hip, her hand searching for mine. Slowly, I reach out, letting her squeeze her fingers around my palm for a second before she returns both hands to the container. I grab out a few apples, passing them to the workers as we continue up the sidewalk. Words form, but I swallow them down, everything feeling too forced or like something I shouldn't say.

"We should leave tomorrow. Probably need to clear it with Rick though. He won't want too many people out with the threat of the other group," Blaire rambles on, handing out the last of the items in the bucket before turning around. She glances over at me for approval of this plan.

Nodding, I take the fruit basket away from her, setting it down on the front porch of Rick's, "Since when you ask Rick for approval?"

"I'm trying to be a team player, Daryl, or does that not matter anymore?" Blaire shoots back, waving away my offer of a cigarette. I don't know why she's acting like she doesn't smoke. There's a cigarette missing from the package. Nothing about Blaire makes me believe she would have offered any to Sasha or Abraham. The brunette is good at sticking to her story; I'll give her that.

For a few minutes, I sit, smoking while I watch Blaire. She wraps and unwraps a string coming off of her pants around her thumb. Her front teeth work against the chapped skin of her bottom lip. Light grey eyes follow the people moving up and down the street. She pulls a threadbare sweater closer around her thin frame, knees drawn up to her chest. Underneath the new strength, there is still fear. It's just placed differently than before. "Naw. Bein' a team player's still what we gotta do."

"We?" Blaire's soft gaze falls onto me "Wasn't aware this was a group effort."

"Can't do it alone, gotta have people," I answer.

The girl beside me nods, a knowing smile playing across her lips, "Do we need people or do we need each other?"

There she goes, trying to push me past where I am, already onto the next step. I don't have the answer she wants, at least not yet. Carol is right about Blaire and I helping each other. She's teaching me to be open and I'm teaching her to be strong again. The brunette just so happens to be a faster learner than me. She trusts quickly, letting people in until they give her a reason to block them out. I don't operate like that. It's best to keep people at a distance, you get less hurt that way. A child can only get their hand smacked so many times before they stop reaching for things. Mine got chopped off on the first attempt.

"Yer shiverin'," I shrug out of my jacket, draping it over Blaire's shoulders. "Ain't got anything heavier than that sweater?"

The brunette pulls the clothing around her, closing her eyes as she takes a deep breath in, "At the house. When the suns out its nice. This wind will be the death of me though. Thanks for yours for now."

"Sure," I nod sliding my hand across the wooden step so that my pinkie brushes against Blaire's. Hopefully, the gesture is enough to answer her previous question at least for now. I like being open with her, I just need to do it on my time. The female's finger lacing with mine lets me know she understands. "Have you been by to see Carl?"

Blaire's face falls, "Yeah. Denise is doing a good job; he's been working on walking a little. Carl is a strong kid. I'm not sure too many other people could get shot the through the eye and live to tell about it. I'm worried about Rick though. He never leaves and never sleeps. Denise and Tara do good to get him to eat."

"Did the same before," I announce.

"Before?"

Nodding, I lean against the stair railing, draping my legs over the brunette's lap, "I told ya, how we met Maggie's family. Carl got shot early on. Maggie's dad fixed 'im up. Rick didn't sleep 'er eat, nothin' till he knew Carl was alright."

"Sounds like young Mr. Grimes should avoid guns," Blaire laughs drumming her fingers against my shin. "What is one thing you miss from before? Like a food or a movie or a place."

Her question catches me off guard. Lately, everything has been strictly business. We've had the herd to think about. The conversations Blaire and I used to have about the past and how we feel fell to the wayside. I wasn't expecting to get back to those things, not with the new threat of the people who ambushed us in the road looming over our heads. It's interesting to me how she can be so casual in a world that begs for constant vigilance. Blaire is good at remembering that we're all just people with thoughts and feelings outside of the dead.

"Being out and not having to watch my back. I miss just goin' in the woods and having a smoke without worryin' if something's gonna happen."

Blaire nods, getting a faraway look in her eye as if she's remembering a time long ago, "I miss butterfingers, like the candy bar. I miss car horns and traffic. I miss having a place to be. I miss when people held the door for other people instead of stopping them in the road and telling them to turn over their shit. I miss playgrounds and squeaky swings. I miss grocery stores and gas stations." The brunette lets out a snort. "It's funny how now that it's all gone, mundane stupid stuff is that I miss most. The stuff I used to hate, ya know?"

I don't have anything to say, at least nothing that would top Blaire's sentiment or make her feel better. When we found the prison, I felt like for the first time since joining Rick's group there was a place to belong. Wandering around and fighting to survive each day wears on you. A bed to call your own, even if it did belong to someone else, makes a world of difference. I wonder how long Blaire worried about where she would sleep before she found the house. Was she worried that even a minute of rest out in the wild could lead to someone in her group dying? I wonder how similar we really are without knowing.

"I want you to come back to the couch," big grey eyes meet mine, a look of shock filling them as if Blaire didn't mean to speak, "if you want, I mean. You don't have to just cause I want you to. If you like Rick's better that's fine."

Reaching forward, I tuck a finger under her chin, "Stop. Couch is a couch. If ya want me on yer's then that's where I'll be."

"Okay."

I give her a nod, "Okay."

Blaire

Rick agrees to let Daryl and I go back to my old place. The bug I came in with sits just inside the gate, loaded down with supplies that will be needed for the next few days. The trip is supposed to be short, an in and out type of thing. There will either be supplies left on the shelves or there won't be. I'm not expecting to spend more than a night away from Alexandria.

"Just go in and open a pouch of tuna, give him a head pat and he'll be fine," I reiterate to Tara who agreed to look after Duke. "If you feel like it you can stay. He likes cuddling. There's some rum and a box of pasta in the cabinet above the refrigerator if you want to woo Denise."

Tara laughs, "Am I that obvious?"

"Yeah," I answer with a smile, pulling my friend into a hug. "Don't worry about us-" I turn, glancing back at Daryl who leans against the passenger side of the car "-I'll keep Daryl nice and safe."

The man snorts, "I'm comin' to watch your back, smart ass. Come on, ain't got all day."

"You two have fun," Tara winks before turning and heading back towards the infirmary.

I pull open the driver side door, climbing inside my car. Daryl follows suit, instantly propping his feet up on the dash. This scene reminds me of our drive to Alexandria. Time moves faster in this new world. Daryl and I have come so far from that time. The gates slide open, exposing the road to us. Putting the car in drive, I head forward slowly, waving to Abraham who stands guard as we pull out.

Daryl's gaze stays on me, his eyes boring a hole in the side of my face. He chews at the skin around his thumb. I feel like there is something he wants to say and sit quietly as he tries to form the words. As I begin to grow impatient, I drum my fingers against the cloth of the steering wheel, pulling my leg up onto the seat. "You okay with going back?"

"It was my idea," I answer with a nod. He's worried that being in the house where my group died is going to send me back to the dark place I was in when he found me. I'm stronger than that now. I've got people and things to fight for again. I want to survive this world for no one else but myself now. "Daryl, what did they do to you?"

The man beside me sits up straighter, feet falling from the dashboard. He looks away, eyes following the line of trees that moves past us. The needles are starting to turn brown, leaves transitioning from green to vibrant oranges and reds, as the weather grows colder. "Don't worry about it."

"That wasn't the question," I challenge. "You're my friend, Daryl-" reaching out, I grab hold of his hand "-I'm worried about you." I offer an encouraging smile. More than anything, I want him to feel safe talking to me. Whatever happened out there is weighing on the bowman more than he wants to let on. If he keeps it bottled up inside, it'll eat away at him. At least if he shares I can begin to understand how he's feeling and work to help.

Daryl drums his fingers against my skin, turning to look at me, "Kept me tied up, pointed guns at me."

"I'm not asking to embarrass you or make you relive it. I want to get it. I want to understand why you want him dead so bad. I'm on your side, Daryl. I'm fighting your fight, just help me fuel the fire a little."

The man sitting next to me sniffs, once again propping his feet up on the dashboard, "He said he wasn't goin' back. I helped him, brought back medicine for the girl he was with, helped him bury her when she died. He kept sayin' he wasn't gonna go back. He wanted to come and be different, but then he betrayed that. He didn't just point the gun, he shot, left me stranded out there in the woods, no vehicle, no weapons. I ain't never gonna be treated like an animal by no one. I gotta kill 'im. He ain't gonna learn or change. He's a coward. I gotta kill him."

"We will. I'm gonna help you. Whatever we have to do, we'll do it. Us or them, yeah?" I squeeze Daryl's hand.

The bowman gives a curt nod," Us or them."

Daryl

Despite insisting that she would be okay going back to the house where she lost her group, Blaire begins to fidget as we draw closer. She drums her fingers against the steering wheel, chewing at the inside of her cheek as she shifts around in the driver seat. If she's helping me, I've got to help her. Blaire wasn't there to experience Dwight, yet she seems more than willing to get behind my plan of killing him. I don't know the demons the brunette is trying to tackle, but I'm gonna help her kill those, whatever they turn out to be. Gently, I place my hand on her shoulder, quietly reminding her she's not alone.

"We don't have to stay there."

Blaire shrugs, turning onto the dirt road that leads up to the house she brought me to the first night we met. I never thought I'd be willing to call that girl strong or brave. I never thought I'd consider her a friend. "It's safer than setting up camp in the woods. I'll be fine."

Before I can say more, Blaire slams on the brakes, sending me flying towards the dashboard. I try and brace myself, forearm slamming into the plastic. The brunette's gaze stays fixed ahead of us. At the bend of the road sits a black sedan, the back end riddled with bullet holes; the car from the burnt forest. I reach out to stop Blaire from exiting the car, but she's already gone, appearing in the windshield. Her door sits open, the engine of her car idling.

"Blaire," I push my door open, grabbing one of the weapons off the back seat.

She spins around, walking backward up the road, "It's empty."

"We should keep going," I answer back.

Blaire continues forward, disappearing around the front of the car. Realizing that she's not going to listen, I climb out onto the road, spinning around in small circles as I grow nearer to the brunette. She's got her hand pressed to the hood, head tilted to the side, her eyebrows squeezed together as she concentrates. "It's cold. Whoever left it here has been gone a while."

"Probably gonna come back soon then," I offer, turning back towards the car we arrived in. If we leave for the store now we may be able to get back to Alexandria before dark. The people who left the car will be back. Blaire and I might not be able to take them all down on our own.

Instead of listening, Blaire throws her ax over her shoulder, heading further up the dirt road leading towards her old safe house. She hums quietly to herself, skipping along to the beat inside her head. This new found courage is going to get her killed. "Get back here."

The brunette spins back towards me, "I'm going in. If you don't want to come with me, wait by the car."

"Blaire, don't be stubborn. Just come on," I argue back, taking a step in the female's direction. No way I'm letting her go into that house alone.

"I'll be in and out, Daryl," Blaire assures, turning and continuing towards the house. "Keep my seat warm."

I glance over my shoulder once more before beginning to follow Blaire towards the house. If they're inside she'll never come back out. The brunette is already determined to help me in killing Dwight. She doesn't need to be tied up and threatened to add more fuel to her fire. A flash of yellow fills my vision, a gentle sinking voice floating in my ears. I shake my head, trying to clear my senses. Now is not the time for Beth to make an appearance. I'm letting Blaire in. There's nothing a dead girl can do about that.

As I catch up, Blaire glances over at me, "Thought you were gonna stay in the car."

"Someone's gotta watch yer back," I mumble back, kicking a rock in my path.

Blaire smiles at me, sliding her fingers between mine, "It'll be quick. I promise."

Sorry it's been so long since I've updated. I kind of have to go to a different headspace to write this and I've just not been able to get there lately. I'll do my best to start updating more quickly again. I appriciate everyone who is still sticking with me. :)