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The Hunter Within

Knots Untie

They hadn’t stayed much longer. Anxious to be back on the road once again after the incident with Paul, not knowing who or what else had heard the alarm, the group had moved on. The day wore heavy on their shoulders, the raw skin along the left side of Sophie’s body still tingling as she tightened her hands around the steering wheel of the truck she had been tasked to driving. In the passenger seat, Rick sat at attention, his eyes trailing a rotter as she manoeuvred around it, following the lead of the other trucks from their position at the end of the convoy. The soft hum of a CD was the only thing keeping them from being consumed by the silence that had settled over the cab, it entirely brooding in nature.
“You wouldn’t have gone through with it,” Rick twisted as the rotter faded from view, as if to assure Daryl, Sophie glancing through the rear vision mirror to where he sat shoulder to shoulder with the still unconscious man, his head hanging limply, Vincent looking up curiously from his other side. “You wouldn’t have just left him there.”
“I would’ve. Right on the street.”
“He really would have,” Sophie promised with a poor attempt of a concealed laugh as Rick settled back into the passenger seat, her gaze catching the faint smirk that dared upon Paul’s otherwise slack lips, the others oblivious to his hidden amusement.
“No,” the man beside her shook his head, glancing back over his shoulder at the man sandwiched between broad shoulders. Rick had insisted on chaperoning, wanting to keep an eye on the cunning man, as if he would be stupid enough to try anything wedge between Daryl and Vincent. “I know. Almost as soon as we got to Alexandria, you got it. You saw. You, and Michonne… Glenn… You all tried to tell me. So shut up,” he chuckled, turning back to the road with a frown as Sophie slowed to a stop behind the others before glancing back at where Daryl continued his sulking a final time. “’Cause I’m finally listening.”
“Takin’ a piss break and swapping drivers!” Abraham boomed from the first truck as Rick opened the door to step out onto the asphalt, the men in the back following suit to stretch out their stiff joints.
“You good with him for a second?”
“I’m fine,” Sophie smiled through her open window at Daryl as he passed, a single hand snaking through to touch at her shoulder before he to moved to converge at the second truck. Taking in a deep breath, she shifted awkwardly into the passenger seat, folding her legs beneath her as she settled into a comfortable position. “How’s your head?”
The cab fell entirely silent for a long moment, she not looking back at the newest member of their road trip as he shifted, the leather of his trench coat all but creaking. “You’re good with that thing,” he dodged her question, gesturing to the staff that was tightly secured along the length of the cabin's roof. “Before or after skill?”
“Have you been awake for long?” She pried further, playing his game by making no attempt to answer his question, the space between them falling silent as they watched the others melt away into the surrounding forest.
“We’ve been driving for a while,” he answered vaguely, meeting Sophie’s gaze through the rear vision mirror as she shifted from the retreating figures of her group to the man perched in the middle seat behind her. “Where are we going?”
“Canada,” she replied sharply, twisting in her seat to properly gauge the hesitation that flashed so briefly across his otherwise composed features, not being able to help but feel a little smug. “Is that a problem? We didn’t think it would be, considering that you told us you were alone?”
The man didn’t have anything else to say as they waited for the others to join them once again, his eyes teasing as he met Daryl’s visible distaste. “How’s your head?” Vincent unknowingly repeated her earlier question with a soft chuckle as he pulled the door open to settle back into his seat, each of them waiting for Rick. “I’ve always wondered what that would feel like.”
“We can try it out if you like,” Daryl grumbled, propping an elbow against the window to take to staring out at the forest beyond it. “I’d take your watch for the rest of the trip just to see Soph beat you over the head with that thing.”
“I might just take you up on that,” the Canadian teased as Rick assumed the driver's position, Paul once again expertly dodging any questions, this time without any effort on his own behalf. “Where to next, boss?”
“Going to keep driving until sundown. Another two, three hours,” Rick replied, glancing back to where Paul sat a little straighter through the rear vision mirror. “Set up camp wherever we can. How’s your head?”
The cab fell silent as Paul considered the seemingly popular question with raised eyebrows and a sense of indifference, his gaze flickering to Sophie ever so briefly as a smirk dared upon his lips. “Fine.”
“They tell you where we’re going?”
“The great north, aye,” Paul mocked, suppressing a smile at the way Vincent scowled, Sophie not being able to help but find amusement in the notion. “You’ve got a long way to go.”
“We’ve got a long way to go,” Rick corrected, raising his eyebrows as he glanced back over his shoulder. “Is that a problem?”
The essential stranger seemed to consider the question seriously, his gaze falling upon the window as they settled onto the open road once again. “I suppose not.”
“Should have left him.”
“What’s in Canada that you can’t find here?”
“People,” Vincent answered vaguely, his tone solemn enough to keep Paul from prying any further. “Supplies along the way.”
“More for him to steal when we turn our backs.”
“Yes. I took your truck because I wanted the supplies you have,” Paul admitted with a sigh, Daryl’s mumbled words sitting heavy on the silence that followed. “I haven’t seen anything like it in a long time. You’re well equipped, your provisions are decent, and there are enough seats between three trucks for all of you. A group as big as yours, as well stocked, you guys could be trouble. Especially you.”
Daryl stiffened as Paul glanced to Sophie, the other man's lips pressed tight as he waited for the reaction he knew was coming, his eyes boring into hers. “This is bullshit. Tried to take our shit once, he’ll do it again.”
“Look, I know we got off to a bad start,” the man continued, leaning forward in his seat to address Rick. “But we’re on the same side. The living side. You had every reason to leave me out there, but you didn’t. I was wrong. You’re good people.”
Eyeing him off as he settled between Daryl and Vincent once again, Sophie considered the prospect of them being good people after everything they had done. She considered if Paul would still say the same if he had seen what she had left in her wake at Fort Hill, if he had been there when she decided that those innocent people would die. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she then considered the man sitting directly behind her, the one that had, in fact, been there. She wondered if Vincent thought she was a good person, or if he just thought that she was good enough. As they settled into a brooding silence once again, the radio playing ever so softly, she wondered if Rick was still a good person, if Daryl, if Carl and Glenn, if Carol, were all still as good as they had been when they left Atlanta a lifetime ago now.
They had to be, she decided, because if they weren’t, were there any left? Had the dead and all the horrors that they had brought with them left any room for good in their new world? Glancing over her shoulder ever so slightly, she considered Daryl, his shoulder to her as he watched the world pass by with angry eyes. He wasn’t the same man she had met, she wasn’t naïve enough to believe that, but she knew there was still good in his decisions, in his actions, it evident in the way he looked at her with all the innocence that this new world allowed. Perhaps he was even better. Though she gave him the benefit of the doubt, knowing the struggles that he had endured long before the rest of them, she knew that he was a better man now, she took comfort in that, in the fact that maybe she too was a better version of who she had once been. In some sick, twisted way.
Touching on Paul as she shifted to watch the trucks before them once again, she considered if he was a good man. It wasn’t often that they came across good people out on the road, though evidence of the possibility rested with the man behind her, to where Michonne watched over Carl in the truck they trailed, amongst the cabin of the second truck that Abraham, Rosita and Tara occupied, stretching even further to where Aaron navigated their convoy. She could even argue that Glenn had found a good man in Rick back in Atlanta, and if she were being generous, Sophie could consider that he had seen the same in her, and that Hershel had seen the good in them.
Glancing up at where her staff was secured above her head, strapped with the velcro Daryl had glued there for her, she decided that she would pass – perhaps foolishly – an innocent until proven guilty verdict on the man that sat beside him. Not only had Vincent been right in his observation that Paul hadn’t made any attempt to seriously hurt anybody, despite his assumed ability to skillfully do so, but he had also saved Daryl, even if letting the rotter get him had meant his certain escape. The fact alone wasn’t something Sophie could easily ignore. It had been her first and foremost argument with him as the others propped Paul into the middle seat back at the compound, binding his wrists as the two debated their points under hushed tones over the supplies they worked to repack from a deserted lunch.
Abandoning her inner conflict for the much more important task of resting, Sophie drifted in and out of a light sleep, the occasional bump in the road shaking her awake. Her gaze would first touch on Rick’s apologetic glance before routinely shifting to consider Daryl’s still position, the base of his hand buried within the bristles of his chin, and then to Paul, his wide eyes meeting hers each time without fail. Chatter would occasionally break the silence, whether it be Vincent talking quietly with Rick, or through the crackle of the handheld radio, it sporadic and brief in nature. A sense of normalcy seemed to settle upon the roads they moved over, enough so that as Sophie closed her eyes once again, she could almost imagine her father sitting in the driver's seat, almost mistake the way Vincent’s voice weaved through song lyrics as her brothers.
She should have known better, however, that much evident as the wind that played at the loose strands of her hair as if her mother would have died away to leave an all too familiar stillness in its wake. Moans replaced the music Rick shifted to dim, her eyes brushing over the herd that all but blocked the road ahead, moving upon them as she straightened. “It’s a little over an hour back if we turn around,” Abraham’s voice dared over the crackling of the radio as Sophie worked at roughly counting the dead that shuffled towards them. “I think we can take them.”
“Michonne,” Rick sighed after a long moment of consideration, the men in the back perking at his tone, the woman replying as Daryl scooped his rifle up into seemingly eager hands. “Tell Carl that if he doesn’t stay in the car, he will be sitting in that seat for the rest of the trip.”
“So we’re doing this?”
“Get up on the rooves, try to pick as many of them off as we can before anyone sets foot on the ground,” the leader spoke through the radio, nodding back at Daryl’s questioning now before looking back to where Paul watched on with a sense of disbelief. “Don’t move.”
Unholstering her pistol, Sophie followed suit, winding her window down further to pull herself through it, Vincent’s large hands shadowing her anxiously from the ground, unable to simply slide through the small space himself. Taking the one Daryl offered her from his position on the roof, she pulled herself through the tight gap with a grunt, the sun warmed frame burning at the skin of her jeaned knees. Pausing only to check the magazine, her gaze brushed over the other rooves, over the figures that hung from windows, as they each took aim, working to bury bullets within brain. For every one of Jake’s carefully placed shots from where he stood upon the truck in front of where she lay, Sophie managed three. Her own tearing through the decaying skin of a rotters shoulder, through the hollow of their throats, before she managed their brittle skulls.
Though most of the weapons were dressed with silencers, she still worried about the attention they were attracting in their attempt to save an hour or so as she worked to reload with rushed fingers. Despite the numbers of the herd, her own kept the advantage, Sophie wrapping an eager hand around the frame of the open window to awkwardly pull at the comfort of her staff upon Rick’s nod of approval. Dropping to the asphalt below, her ankles complaining at the weight forced upon them, she swung the wooden end to connect with the bridge of an already off centred nose, the face concaving upon impact. Almost smiling to herself, Sophie took off running, weaving through the dead as they reached for her with hungry fingers, shoving the bladed end through empty eyes and swinging the other at the back of heads.
Others moved around her, she could sense them in the dwindling numbers, in the carefulness of the shots that came from those remaining upon rooves. She could feel Daryl shadowing her, the absence of his crossbow evident now more than ever in that of the familiar twang it accompanied. Pulling the bladed end free from where she had forced it through the vulnerability of a decaying chin, she met his gaze with an adrenalin-fuelled smirk, his own eyes shining almost mischievously as she then spun to wrap the length of wood around the skull of another. His forearms were covered in blood, it too dark to belong to the stitches that still resided there, his hands expertly clutching at his knife, the bands of muscle of his arms tensing as he tore his gaze from hers in favour of an approaching rotter.
It was then, turning to another, that her eye caught on the swiftness of an unfamiliar figure, she abandoning it to quickly deal with the dead that grabbed at her arm before searching the decomposing crowd for it once again. Paul weaved through the bodies skilfully, the two knives they had taken from his belt and stowed in the glove box of their truck now grasped tightly in each hand. Completely mesmerised by the way he moved, almost forgetting herself and current company, she twisted to the sound of Daryl’s rough curse, impatient swears bubbling from his tight-pressed lips as he moved after the swift moving man. Swinging her staff almost blindly at a nearby rotter, working to clear a path, she followed on Daryl’s heels, watching his back anxiously.
The road around them begun to still as she ghosted the pair, it not entirely lost on her that Paul managed, perhaps intentionally, to keep her between him and the pointed barrel of Daryl’s rifle at all times. As the herd began to dwindle, the silence between each well placed shot and challenged grunt growing, Sophie noticed that the attention had shifted to the possible threat Paul now held, he all but oblivious to the fact that he lunged at one of the remaining rotters, both blades piercing the bone behind its ear on their respective sides. With Jake finishing the last, the decaying bodies before them now limp, lying in puddles of their own blood, Sophie relaxed to consider the man as he settled upon the asphalt, he in turn studying them with a sense of anticipation.
“I wasn’t –”
“How did you get out?”
“ – trying to escape,” the man assured Rick, raising his hands at the rifle that he motioned to trail him. “It looked like you needed all the hands you could get.”
“How did you get out?”
“Knots untie,” Paul shrugged, his movements as deliberate as Rick’s repeated question as he wiped and sheathed his blades. “Doors open.”
“Entropy comes from order, right?”
“Right.”
“Well, now’s your chance,” Rick offered, gesturing for Cal to lower the barrel that sat only inches from Paul’s face to then nod at the surrounding forest, it looming upon the now dormant carnage.
The man made no effort to move from where he watched with an almost chilling intensity as everyone else turned for their respective trucks, silently wiping the blood from their weapons to store them back where they had been retrieved from. “I said I wasn’t trying to escape,” he spoke as Sophie neared upon her own door, hands working over the stained wood of her staff. “I was just trying to help.”
“Thank you for your help.”
“You’re really going to Canada?” The longhaired man pried, his arms crossed over his chest as he glanced over the road to settle upon the way Rick dipped his head. “Then what? You’re staying there?”
“No.”
“So, you do have a camp? Back here?”
Pocketing the bloody rag to manoeuvre her staff back into its position across the depth of the cabin, Sophie considered the question, the silence that followed and the man it was aimed at with a sense of curiousity. “No,” Rick answered simply, it of course, a lie. “But we’ll be back.”
“Last time I went to Canada, I tried to see the falls, but it was just too crowded that day. You think it would be any different now?”
“Are you saying you want to come?”
“Are you saying you would let me?”
Rick considered the question with narrowed eyes before turning to where Vincent still lingered by the hood adjacent to him. “Grab his knives and tie him back up. Tighter this time.”
Smoothing the straps into place, Daryl leaning over the bench in the back of the cabin to tighten the one that sat beneath the ratted rope used to secure the blade to wood, Sophie watched as the man gave his knives and bands up without complaint. No one said any more as he followed Vincent back to the truck, slipping into his previous spot as if nothing had happened, as if each of their arms weren’t slick with foul smelling blood. Calling out to Michonne as the woman lingered by where Rick checked on his son, Sophie leant into the front seat to collect and return the water bottle she had taken from the woman earlier.
They had each settled into their positions by the time Rick turned to tell them that he would be travelling with Carl once again, the teenager peering from the open window curiously as Tara moved from the trucks other side to take his father's place. The brunette slipped into the driver's seat without a word, Sophie leaning across the gears to wipe the blood splatter from her face with the pad of her thumb as she adjusted her position a little closer to the wheel. As if nothing had happened, she then worked to coax the truck over the bodies that littered the ground as a lone rotter stumbled out from the forest, Sophie’s gaze following the figure as it disappeared behind Daryl’s head, he then stealing her attention.
Finding blood smeared over the width of his forehead, the distance between them too great for her to do anything about it, she fished through the pocket of her jacket for the already bloody rag kept there, offering it to him with a weak smile. At Vincent’s request, she then turned the volume of the CD player up, skipping the song as Tara groaned, and settled back into her shotgun position to stare out the window once again. No one attempted to address the man that sat amongst the silence that followed, having each already started to work through the process of accepting him into the group, and he made no attempt to do the same. Instead, he watched through the windscreen with a sense of indifference, his hands once again bound in his lap, leaving Sophie to wonder just how constricted he actually was.
She would trust him, she decided, not long before the sky began to take an orange tone, it painted it pink hues as Rick radioed in to tell them that they would be stopped at an approaching truck stop for the night. He had given her no reason not too, despite the abundance of opportunities to do so. Hiding a heavy yawn behind a bloody hand, Sophie watched as the silhouette of the seemingly abandoned station came into view, its grimy windows washed with the headlights of the trucks as they rounded the run down building in favour of the back parking lot off the road. Coming to a stop along the back wall, they each stepped out onto the cement with a sense of preparedness, weary eyes scanning the empty space before them with suspicion as the separate groups converged.
“Night three, group three. Which one had first watch?” Abraham raised a thick, red eyebrow as they settled into a loosely formed circle, Sophie raising her hand in acknowledgement from where she had paused to collect her staff.
Accepting the job with grace, knowing that she would then get to welcome relatively unbroken sleep, she pulled her staff free and turned on her heels, facing outwards as the man designated other jobs. The surrounding area was still, thinned of the trees that had plagued their trip so far, the paddocks stretched out before them almost void of them entirely. It wouldn’t be long until they left the growing familiarity of Virginia behind, the distance between them and the safety net of Alexandria growing further with each new day. As the temperature began to dip, Sophie considered the road ahead with growing confidence, the group already beginning to successfully settle into their respective roles.
“What have you got for us to eat tonight?” Cal pried in passing as Daryl turned for the truck that they had taken to storing his morning catches in for the last two days. “I’m starved.”
“Rabbit, squirrel, or that raccoon we found on the side of the road,” He replied, head buried with the canvas opening as Sophie moved from her scan of the area to pull herself up onto the warm hood of the first truck, drawing the sleeves of her jacket over her hands as she adjusted to the cool, autumn breeze. “Squirrel's been in there the longest, but the racoon –”
“No one wants to eat the racoon.”
“Carl, you wanna give me a hand,” Daryl whistled, ignoring Michonne’s exhausted sigh, the two having argued the pros and cons of him taking it. He doing so anyway. “You remember how to skin one of these?”
“Don’t forget about me,” Sophie piped up hungrily from her removed position as canned vegetables and cooking utensils were fished from the back of another truck.
“Ain’t gonna happen,” Daryl smirked, eyes shining under the dying light as he moved from behind one for where Rosita and Cal worked at building a small fire. “Can hear your stomach from over here.”
“You be careful with that knife,” Rick warned his son as he moved around the organised chaos of swiftly setting up for the night, working to establish a perimeter around both the fireplace and heavy duty tarp that Tara and Jake worked to lay out over the cement for sleeping bags.
Taking the string that Vincent offered her, it tied to the end of the large sheet, it folded to offer shelter, Sophie stood from her seated position to fasten it to the passenger side door handle, Aaron working to hold down the centre fold with large rocks. By the time Abraham and heath returned from their sweep of the area, the sun was daring upon the horizon, the air nipping at bare skin and the scent of cooking meat hanging heavy over the surprisingly cheerful atmosphere. Paul seemed to hang back from the hushed commotion, watching with visible calculation as the others settled around the dying fire to take advantage of the heat it offered before the night came to claim it.
As the embers were reluctantly covered to leave the full moon as their only source of light, Daryl came to sit beside Sophie, his place stacked with enough food for the both of them. Picking at the charred meat, she listened to Tara plead with Abraham for extra water that night, using the events on the road that afternoon as her defence. The man just chuckled from where he sat up against the wheel of one of the trucks, Rosita’s head against his shoulder, reminding the other woman of the importance of preserving the resources they had. By the time conversation consumed the debate, Paul was laughing along with the rest of them, their voices soft in an attempt to keep from having them fall upon decaying ears as they listened to Tara’s desperate case.
Listening intently as Heath told a vivid story about one of their previous runs, Sophie found herself hyper aware of the way Daryl’s shoulder brushed against her as he took a draw of his cigarette, the smoke clouded the otherwise crisp air as he exhaled. Unable to deny the sense of contentment that settled over them, Sophie dared to shift a little closer, glancing over their shoulders at the darkness that surrounded them before resting her cheek upon the warmth of his arm. She sat like that until the stress of the day they had endured began to claim the peacefulness that it had made way for, figures moving from the blackened fireplace to settle amongst their sleeping bags, some without bothering to wash off.
Feeling Daryl sway beneath her, Sophie lifted her head to usher him from the watch point as Rick accompanied Carl to bed, the man pausing to make sure that she was okay before following suit. Taking in a deep breath, the silence that moved in over the camp all-consuming, she glanced down at her wrist, illuminating the tiny numbers of the watch she had taken to wearing before rubbing at her tired eyes. Knowing that she had a long couple of hours ahead of her, she slipped from the hood to bypass the sea of nearby bodies and step over the perimeter. Touching down on the other side, she worked to keep her blood pumping by pacing the length of the rope, staff clutched almost anxiously in both hands.
It wasn’t until she was confident in her ability to sit and stay awake that she moved back to settle upon the hood furthest from the camp, eager for the warmth that the embers still offered, the warmth of the engine having been lost to the cool of the night. Time dragged by as slowly as she could have expected, her only distraction from the fight against her heavy eyelids granted by the occasional stirring body, a whispered explanation about needing to relieve themselves and the mocking hoot of a nearby owl. The open space was eerily quiet, the moon bright enough to allow for equally as jarring silhouettes to be thrown across the cement they all rest upon, each of them as unmoving as the next.
“Lovely night,” an only slightly familiar voice smiled to Sophie’s left, her muscles twitching away from the noise, her hands instinctually tightening around the wood of her staff as her eyes brushed over Paul’s casual figure.
“That’s not something I’m going to get used to,” she sighed, not bothering to draw attention to the fact that his hands were no longer bound as he settled into the space beside her, she shifting away from the man a little anxiously.
He smiled somewhat apologetically, eyes burning in such a way that told Sophie he might enjoy it a little too much to actually be sorry. “So,” Paul started, dipping his head to gesture at the staff she clutched at. “Before or after skill?”
“Before,” she resigned with a sigh after a moment, the fingers of her left hand slackening around the width of it to touch the ageing wood, the splinters she had recently endured having been sandpapered away in the week since. “I had all this energy growing up, my mom had me in all kinds of sports, but nothing kept me occupied at home like this did. I would spend hours beating up trees, her hedges… Sometimes my brother.”
"You're pretty good with it."
“Thanks,” she smiled, accepting the compliment. “I mean, it keeps me alive, keeps me away from the rotters, but that’s about it. All the technique really lies within stabbing and swinging. It can’t stop a bullet, and as it turns out, you. You’re actually good, I’ll give you that much. Before or after skill?”
Before,” he spoke carefully, gaze locked onto the darkness before them. “I was actually a martial arts trainer, mostly hand to hand. It would drive my, uh – ” he paused, large eyes flickering to Sophie, searching, as if to gauge her reaction – “it would drive my boyfriend crazy. Watching me come home with a new bruise every night, as if it was nothing. And it was, nothing, I mean. It was my passion, a big part of who I was.”
“And here you are,” she whispered with a faint smile, eyes brushing over the long, soft brown locks of hair that touched at his coated shoulders as he nodded. “Your boyfriend? He’s gone?”
“Yes,” Paul dropped his gaze before composing himself, in such a way that Sophie felt guilty for asking. “He has been for a long time now. We learnt pretty quickly that the dead weren’t something that we could reason with. He was good at that. Reasoning. But suddenly, it was all those bruises, all those late nights, that we argued about that were a blessing.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Why do you call them rotters?” He mused a little louder after a long, somewhat awkward, pause, his voice taking on a bouncy, somewhat curious tone as he twisted to raise a sleek eyebrow at her. “Rick and the others call them walkers, but not you.”
“No one has ever asked me that,” Sophie realised, pressing her lips into a tight line as she searched for the words, searched for a way to make him understand. “I was with my dad in the beginning, just the two of us, and that’s what he called them. It was hard to hold onto that, through everything, but something deep down has fought it the entire way and I just can’t bring myself to change.”
“We remember the dead as best we can.”
“You don’t have to defend me,” she huffed softly, dipping her head to shield a sad laugh behind strands of hair, catching sight of the shrug that accompanied his casual words. “I know it’s stupid.”
“How about you and Daryl?” Paul pried, to both her surprise and discomfort, his maybe blue, maybe green eyes coming to study her with a sense of curiousity. “Is that a before or after thing?”
“It’s a…” She took in a deep breath, eyebrows furrowing together as she tried to find the right words to describe them. “It’s a complicated after thing. I don’t even know if you could call us a thing sometimes.”
The man beside her snorted, shaking his head in a way that sent the loose strands of hair flapping against his cheeks, eyes dropping to the hood beneath them as he collected himself. “The way he looks at you makes me weak at the knees. There’s definitely a thing going on there.”
“We haven’t had it easy,” she whispered with a frown, as if to defend herself, as if to defend him. “I mean, we did for a little while, but then it all got really hard. I lost him for a good amount of time, and then I lost myself. Coming back from all that, you would think things would be different… But it kind of feels like we’re always coming back to square one.”
“One step forward, two steps back.”
This time, it was Sophie that laughed, her eyebrows furrowing together as she looked back out into the surrounding darkness. “I keep trying to take those steps forward and he just digs his heels in, keeps telling me that nothing has to change. He isn’t an easy man to sway, trust me, I’ve been trying.”
“Trying?” He all but cocked his head, Sophie’s cheeks pooling with blood, only then remembering that the man beside her was essentially a stranger, no matter how charismatic. “Oh. I understand. With no luck, I’m assuming?”
“He just doesn’t seem to be picking up on hints,” she whispered before she could stop herself, part of her knowing the value in talking these king of things through, not being able to do that with the others, even Maggie. They were probably under the assumption that her problems, had never been problems at all, and why wouldn’t they. “We share a room, a bed, I practically said to him, but,” she cringed, stopping herself. “I’m probably equally at fault… But I just… I’m sorry. I must sound so pathetic right now.”
“No, not at all. I get it,” he confessed, raising his hands ever so slightly from where they were wrapped around his bent knees, as if in surrender. “At the end of the world, some people are tearing at each other's clothes, while others… They seem to have more pressing issues on their mind. I’ve never been one to be ashamed of the first. Before or after.
“I’m sorry,” she cringed, her face burning as if she had endured too much sun. Maybe you have, she touched at her cheek discretely, why else would you be having this conversation. “I know they call you Jesus, but I really shouldn’t be seeking guidance from a stranger, especially about my sex life. Or lack thereof.”
“Don’t be, he smirked, glancing back at the groan that followed the silence breaking whine of an alarm, a familiar figure rising from the stirring bodies to shuffle through the darkness, signifying the end of Sophie’s shift.
Smiling at his sleepy approach, she met Jake’s brown eyes with a soft chuckle as he yawned, she slipping thankfully from the hood to offer him her place, fully intending on slipping into the warmth that he had left behind. Promising to see both of the men in the morning, lingering long enough for Jake to settle himself upon the hood, rifle laid out across his lap, Sophie turned in favour of sleep, her eyes brushing over the bodies crammed into the tarp in search of Jake’s sleeping bag. It was only when she found it across the small space from where Daryl lay at the far end of the tarp, his shoulders stacked together with sleep, that she changed her path, opting to lower herself beside the outwards facing man.
Though the unzipped sleeping bag was small, a half-conscious Daryl seemed to welcome her into the space, folding her almost protectively into his chest. Breathing him in, relishing in the warmth that he provided, Sophie twisted uneasily in her place to face him, burying her face in the nook of his outstretched neck. He seemed to hum ever so quietly as she dared a little closer, the bands of muscles along his arms bracing to hold her there as she worked at awkwardly escaping the cold amongst him and the nylon sleeping bag. Feeling his steady breath washing over the top of her head, she then closed her eyes, a smile daring at the corners of her lips as she pressed them ever so gently again his collarbone in an attempt to savour the moment, knowing all too well that his watch, that daylight, would come too soon.





Notes

Big, big, big thanks to Tripper, daniellarose and Thanya for your comments. They are greatly appreciated and as always, encouraged. A thank you to everyone else who read as well. You guys are the driving force of this story, seriously, so keep it coming.

This sneaky update ends Jesus' introduction, I promise. The next one we will move back into more Sophyl centred chapters and I will actually be uploading two together. I am super, super excited to share them with you, so get keen. Super keen guys.

Hope to see you in the comments x

Comments

Who's here on 2020 for a re-read? :D

Tee- Tee-
4/17/20

@QueenUchi

New readers make my heart sing, especially when they start this journey ten months after I ended it (abit abruptly but we won’t get into that because it’ll make me sad again).

Thank you you so much for leaving a comment. Nothing is more motivating for the unmotivated than a little bit of love. Whenever I get a comment from someone new all I find myself wanting to sit down and grill them with a million different questions.

If youre chasing updates about any eventual stories I write, please follow me on instagram @ sophyl_

Thanks a million again!! xx

aryaaa aryaaa
11/28/18

thank you @sanders151 for recomending me this fanfic

Your fanfic has been in the center of my life for the whole month November. Let me just tell you that im in love with everything about this story. Im even at loss of words about how amazing this journey has been.

There have been moments when i actually had to get up and calm down from all the feelings may they be joy sadness or just extreme suffering. Ive been cheering, i've been crying to the point of ugly sobbing, ive been screaming while reading this all.

I dont even know how to tell you how i feel about this fanfic there arent any words for it so ima just AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH about it cause thats the closets that i can think off "insert all the feelings i cant express here"

I am just so thank full for all your time and effort and everything youve put into this story. Cause WOW youre an amazing writer and when you do make your original story please do know that I WOULD LOVE TO READ THAT TOO.

This journey has ended but it will forever be in my heart.

QueenUchi QueenUchi
11/27/18

@Sanders151

I was so surprised to see a new notification on this story after all these months. Thank you so much for taking the time
to comment, I hope you’ve enjoyed what you’ve read since. Please feel free to leave me updated on your thoughts xx

aryaaa aryaaa
11/25/18

Hello,

It's been a looong time since i've read this story. Life got busy and i totally forgot to finish it.

SO i decided to reread everything and lemme tell you...I STILL LOVE IT AS MUCH AS THE FIRST TIME.
Im currently at chapter 62 (right after fort hill) and i can't wait for what is to come.


Sanders151 Sanders151
11/15/18