Chapter Text
At first, the cold was a welcomed change from what had been torturing you for months, the humid air and destructive heat of the south. But the change of weather brought much more pain than relief.
For months, you had been spending your nights in the trees, fending for yourself deep in the forest. It was the easiest way to stay away from the dead, but more importantly, people. It was a hard lifestyle to adjust to, but worth it. Plus, you had surprised yourself. Turns out, you weren’t half bad at staying alive. Maybe a little bad at staying sane, but you kept most of it together all things considered. You had a system.
You would rise with the sun, untying yourself from the branch you’d made your bed and drop your backpack from whichever tree you had chosen the night before. You’d use your rope and rock climbing harness to lower yourself down the tree. (Both supplies you found in an abandoned nature retreat a few months back)
You’d then, if you were lucky, go find the nearest running water and freshen up as well as try to purify as much water as you could carry until you found the next source. No towns, no settlements. And the rest of your day was spent scavenging through the woods for something to eat. Your favorite was acorns, or mushrooms. You only liked mushrooms if they were cooked though. Sometimes you could dry out and fry some mushrooms and store them for later. The closest thing to a treat at the end of the world.
In all honesty, you didn’t find it to be the most exciting life, especially when you had to spend it killing the already dead. But it was life now. Everything and everyone you knew from before was gone. You sighed, looking up at a tall tree that shot straight up 30 feet. You had found your bed for the night…
Tying one side of your rope to your harness, and the other side to one of the harness clips, you casted your arm back, aiming for one of the higher branches. With a weak grunt, you threw the hunk of metal up..
And completely missed the branch.
In fact, the clip went up fifteen feet, then directly down over your big, vulnerable head. You yelped and covered yourself, prematurely wincing as you awaited impact. The clip made a thud as it landed in the dirt right next to you. You sighed with relief, picking it up and trying again. This time, the rope swung over the branch and you lowered it down from the other side, snapping the murderous clip into your harness. You pulled, testing the weight of the branch. It didn’t budge and you smiled triumphantly. Then you began the worst part of your day. Climbing the tree. It didn’t take that long anymore, it had gotten easier after all those months of practice.
You used all the upper body strength that these trees had given you and pulled yourself up the rope to reach a low hanging branch and managed to climb up the rest of the way. Skillfully, you slithered your way to the desired branch about halfway up the tree and pulled your rope up.
The sun began setting and the cold was already setting in. God, this weather was an issue..
You reached around and grabbed a ratty blanket that was better labeled as a depressed piece of cloth. You pulled it from your backpack, shrugging it over your shoulders.
Your feet swung in the wind, numbed by miles of walking and the beginning chills of winter. It was exhausting. Every meal was never enough, your sleep never deep enough. You shuffled, wondering if sitting in trees every night was changing the shape of your butt. You frowned. You hoped not. You liked your butt..
As a treat, you even busted out your fried mushrooms and snacked on them like they were the worlds worst french fries. Dread filled your stomach more than the mushrooms did. Your body ached, your eyes had been heavy for months. How sustainable was this life you were living? How could you even call this a life?
Your snack was cut short when a herd of the dead began to stumble through the trees. They were going west, and you watched their heads from above as they stumbled past you, bumping against your sturdy tree.
You were headed east. It was the only goal you had anymore. Its what you had agreed on…
You were high enough to avoid catching any of their attention, so you just watched and kept your nose plugged. It was like people-watching, which had always been an activity you loved before, but now it was a little more sad. Instead of looking at the woman with blue hair and wondering about her life, you look at her corpse stumble past and wonder how she ended up how she is.
Still, it wasn’t boring. "Morbidly fascinating" is what Daniel would call it. God, that pretentious dork would rant about the dead like he was the professor of the end of the world. After everything, losing his mom, his brother, and all of our friends, he would still talk about everything he could with the passion of the bright, burning sun.
You wiped the sweat from your face, eyeing every movement surrounding your group as you moved through the empty streets of some abandoned So-Cal suburb. The air was dry and hot; the weather had nothing kind for you that day. Your group consisted of strangers mostly, ones that you had grown to trust. The only people you had left from life before were your best friend as well as your producer, and the love of your life.
"Realistically, it’ll be a few more years of this at most." Daniel spoke generally to anyone listening.
"How’s that?" Bea humored him. You rolled your eyes as he readied his speech.
"Well, these things are rotting, right? They have a shelf life then. An expiration date. Given a few years, at least in the hot places around the world, they’ll be nothing but bones."
Bea awed, "Oh wow. How do you figure?"
"Common sense?" You teased, annoyed by Bea’s gawking. Daniel frowned at you. "He only sounds smart cause of that accent." You "whispered" at Bea. The Brit in question scoffed.
"Do you not think I’m smart?!" Daniel put his hand on his heart, feigning offense.
You gave him an exaggerated sympathetic smile, "Of course, sweetie."
He grinned for a second, then scowled once he processed the words under your loving tone.
He glanced around quickly and pulled you by your hips, stopping as the rest of the group continued forward. He was still so clean-cut, so boyishly handsome, out of place against the ugly backdrop of the end of the world.
His eyes never left your face as one of his hands found yours, intertwining fingers with you. You leaned in to kiss him, but he jerked your hand upwards.
"If I’m the idiot, then you’re an imbecile." He pulled your intertwined hands in front of your face, the shiny engagement ring on your finger shimmering in your face.
You scoffed and leaned your head back on his chest. "So I’m even dumber for wanting to marry you?" You asked.
"That sounds about right." He argued.
"Then that makes you the one who asked to marry an imbecile, making you, kind of officially, a moron." You turned and poked his chest.
"Ooh, then you agreed to marry a moron, then?" he holds your hand against his chest.
"Oh, I absolutely did."
He beamed like he was the sun itself and leaned down to kiss you. You had to push him away after he kept leaning into you until your back was bending.
"We have to catch up, you moron." You teased.
"That’s not fair." He argued.
"What? We agreed you’re a moron, didn’t we?"
"Agreed? There was no agreement!"
You laughed and began catching up. He chased after you, just like he always had.
You wiped at tear from your face, deciding that the moon was a much better point of focus. The moon was full, glowing brightly overhead. Daniel was growing more distant in your memory as of late. You invited the sadness, the nostalgia. You decided forgetting made you much sadder than constantly thinking about him. About losing him..
The wind blew and felt as if it froze the tear on your cheek.
You had maybe a month before it would be too cold to keep sleeping in trees. Then what? Any town or building you could find is an open invitation for the dead or worse, people. You didn’t want to risk it. For you, being with others was like playing Russian roulette.
You wondered if there were any caves around, but scoffed once you realized in your eight months of traveling you don't remember seeing a single cave. Don't bears live in caves? You were shocked you hadn't seen a bear with all the time you've been in the woods. Are there are bears in-? whatever state you're in right now. Actually, you're shocked that the closest you've been to dying out here was only caused by the dead. You knew nothing about the woods before this, how close death could get by taking the wrong step, eating the wrong fruit. The learning curve was harsh, but at least no bears made it harder. Guess even the animals have reason to stay clear of things that look like you.
You had attempted hunting in those first few months on your own, but you ended up wasting energy and time that was better spent scavenging and picking berries. You remember being desperately hungry, checking on snares that never quite worked to be met with disappointment. It was a feeling you were used to nowadays.
There was a sharp whisk of wind that startled you, making you freeze and tuck your legs back, hoping the darkness was enough cover for whatever made the sound.
Shuffling came from the bush right in front of you, and about ten of the dead stumbled towards the source of the noise from either side. It had to be another person.
You had your back firmly against the trunk of the tree, trying to squint through the darkness, the full moon giving you only a sliver of visibility.
Another sharp whizzing sound came, one of them fell, and a clearly living person emerged from the brush, a large, shadow-concealed weapon extended as more of the dead staggered towards them.
You let out a sharp breath as the figure evaded hungry hands, dropping the weapon and pulling out a knife, dropping the dead like flies. You couldn't see much but you made out that he--a man-- moved fast, fluidly. He seemed skilled enough to finish them off and leave without ever even knowing you were there, and skilled enough to be a great threat to your life if he sees you.
To your left, you spotted at least five more of the things staggering through the trees, completely out of the figure's line of sight. You panicked for him, head rapidly swaying from the dead to him as his back got closer and closer to the base of your tree.
It was some sort of instinctual force within you, one that defied the logic of instinct. It was more likely to hurt you than anything, throwing the open end of your rope down and clicking your flashlight on the way you did.
You illuminated the figure, the man, and he looked up to you with wide eyes.
"Hurry!" You called, shining the light on the rope below.
He looked down at it then back up at you, and as more of the dead staggered into sight, he had no choice but to pull himself up the tree. He did so with an effortlessness that scared you, perching his feet on the lowest branch just before he was about to be made into a dead man's dinner. He began moving higher, and you kept your light trained on him like a spotlight from above, hand shaking with premature regret.
The man looked up at you, clocking your fear and he stopped climbing, situating himself on one of the lower branches. The dead piled at the bottom of the tree, clawing at the bark from all sides.
"Are you okay..?" You said with a quiet, hoarse voice from months of not speaking. You barely recognized the sound.
He was breathing heavily, looking down at the small gathering below you. He didn't seem scared, more focused than anything. As if his near-death was nothing more than an inconvenience. His shoulders rose and fell less as he caught his breath. His arms were out, his skin dirty, but he didn't look like he was struggling out here. Not like you were.
He looked up towards you and squinted his blue eyes, light shining directly in his face. He put a hand up to cover the light.
"Thanks." He said wearily, his voice even more gravely than yours.
"Yeah.." You cleared your throat.
"Can y'turn that thing off?" He asked, trying to be more polite than he was probably feeling.
You gulped, hesitant.
"That’s just gonna bring more of em' here." He warned.
You knew he was right but it was still nerve wracking. You’d be plunged into darkness with a stranger, a man you had no reason to save, let alone trust.
A reluctant click came, and you were casted in complete darkness for a moment. You were frozen with fear as you waited for your eyes to adjust to the darkness, arm wrapped around the trunk of the tree. You didn’t really know what to expect but you braced for something anyway.
When your eyes finally did adjust to the darkness, he was in the exact same position, mirroring your weariness right back at you.
You were too scared to consider it, but he was also gathering information that could mean life or death. Trying to see the mysterious, light shrouded figure who had saved him. He didn't know your intention either. Your breath began to steady as you watched him, unmoving. The sound of growls and gurgles on the ground was the only thing that let you know that the world wasn’t frozen as you sat there trying your best to read him in the moonlight.
"I’m (Y/n)." You said, making an attempt at a polite smile instead of wide eyes and deathly silence. You braced for a reaction to your name or your voice.
"How’d you end up’ up here?" He asked after a second, eyes suspiciously following the rope that connected to your branch.
"I chose to." You explained, almost embarrassed.
"It’s cold up here." He stated.
You shrugged. He watched the action; you were completely made of shadow, moonlight directly behind you, casting a glow around your shape. It was almost ethereal, but your nervous voice broke the illusion.
"Are you alone out here?" You asked him, breaking through the silence.
"I have a group. A community." he answers after a beat.
A community? How many people have to be in a group to make a community? It didn't seem like there were enough people left in the world to make a community. Whatever it looked like, you didn’t want any part if it so you opted for silence again.
"You alone?" He asked, looking around the empty forest.
"No, I'm not." You answered sharply, pitch rising, "I.. my fiancé is with me."
His head moved. He was looking around the surrounding trees.
"He’s out getting supplies." You added to your lie, "But he’ll be back.. and don’t try anything cause he'll find you. He knows how to hunt." You were being cowardly, you knew that, but in a situation like this, better to lie then end up dead.
He huffed a quick laugh that you struggled to read. Could he tell you were lying? That you were alone? Daniel never even knew how to hunt! Your heartbeat quickened. He sensed it, you could tell, and he assured you, "Don't wanna be shot outta the tree, is all."
You squinted as the moon finished disappearing behind the trees next to you, casted into darkness with the stranger once again. You were left with his silhouette, and the moon finally stopped hiding you from him.
"Well, if someone shoots you up here, they’re not with me." you try to assure him.
You saw the shadow of his shoulders fall a little. Just a little though.
"What’s your name?" You asked.
Silence followed for a minute. He still seemed more worried about you than you were about him at this point.
"Daryl."
You nodded, forgetting he couldn’t see you.
"How’d you get pinned like that?" You pried.
"I was drivin’ n' a walker was in the middle of the road. Couldn’t see it till I had to swerve off the road, into a tree, n' ended up out here.." Daryl explained.
"You were out driving alone?" You asked.
He hesitated. "Yeah.. I’m out here by myself."
You didn't know if you believed him, but you took the lie with the same grain of salt you gave yourself. Nobody knows who they can trust out here. If you were both lying, you were giving each other the room to do so.
"Hungry?" You asked.
"Nah." He said. "..thanks.." he murmured.
"Mm." You nodded, pulling your mushrooms back out and quietly eating.
"Your fiancé, he comin’ back soon?"
"Why??" You hounded, mouth full.
"Does he have a way to know what he’s comin' back to?" He looked to the slowly dispersing herd of dead below.
"He’s gonna be fine. Worry about yourself." You said with a bitterness you didn't fully intend.
"Right.." he didn’t want to cause an issue.
You pulled your blanket tighter, pit in your stomach sinking even further.
"I'm askin' cause the two of you, when he gets back, n’ if you’re interested, might be able to come back with me."
"To your community?" You asked.
"Mm. You’d both have to answer some questions first, but we’ve got dozens of people and it’s a big place, secure."
"I can’t." You said quickly, "We can’t."
"Why’s that?" He challenged.
You didn’t answer, hoping he’d drop it.
"You’re alone out here," He accused, "that right?" Your stomach dropped and you balanced yourself on your feet.
You huffed. "I told you-"
"I don’t believe that."
You swallowed the lump in your throat. If you sensed danger, you would have done something by now. But the stranger had settled into the branch he picked, yards below you. His questions do not read accusatory, but he was no longer giving you room to lie.
"I’m fine out here by myself." You told him finally.
"We’ve got more than enough room. It’s gettin' too cold to sleep in trees." He reasoned.
"I get it. Thanks, really, but I can’t." You told him sympathetically, letting yourself sit back down and resting your head against the tree trunk.
"How many walkers have you killed?" He asked, ignoring what you had said in its entirety. Though at the time, you thought that he had dropped it.
"How could I keep track of that? Why?" You asked.
He gave you nothing, "How many people have you killed?" He asked. You shuffled uncomfortably for a second.
"Three."
"Why?"
"Two of them, they were both bit. Had to.." you picked at the bark in front of you, "One of them cause he earned it." Your chest rose at the memory.
"What’s that mean?" He pried gently.
"He thought the end of the world meant he could put his hands on whoever he wanted." You stated simply. He understood, accepting your reason and your stance.
"You sure bout stayin' out here?" He asked.
You blinked back your tears, "I’m sure."
"Right." He said, barely a whisper. Sadness dripped off of you in a way you never had to confront on your own. It made you feel insecure, especially since this man was catching your lies without even seeing your face. Yet you could not pick up on the intention behind his words in the slightest.
The night grew quieter and your eyelids became heavy after a while. Even as you dozed off you knew how dumb it was to sleep in front of this stranger.
Maybe it was the months of isolation, but you didn’t feel as if you were in danger with him there. Without intention, you slipped into a cold sleep.