The Woman at The End of The World. (Daryl Dixon)

fortyeight.

I don't bother to raise my arms, "it took you long enough to grow a set of balls." Chuckling, I place my sword in its holder across my back. I turn around, leaning against the counter, crossing my arms. "I thought you were dead, Tori."

My blue eyes find the figure in front of me. My big sister is beautiful, even in her current disheveled shape. I've always yearned to look like her. Like me, she has fair skin and long, straight dark brown hair. Her skin pure, sans the freckles we share, not marred by tattoos, scars and piercings like mine. We stand at the same height, but she's certainly curvier. Her hazel eyes zero in on me in disbelief.

"Vanessa?!" She seems to be rooted in her spot at the front door; but for only a second. She runs over, dragging me into an embrace. "Oh my god! Where have you been?" Her words breathe against my ear.

I pull away but leaving my arms against hers. "I got stuck in Atlanta. My flight came in the day they sent bombs down all over the city. They evacuated the airport."

Her pretty face frowns, "that was years ago."

I hang my head, "yeah I know. It's a story for another time, Tor. Anyway," I dance out of her arms, searching my apartment, "where's the boys? I kind of put Aaron down, I'm sorry." I offer nonchalantly.

"Dead."

I sputter under that one word. "What happened?"

"Jamie! It's okay, come on out. It's just my baby sister." A little boy no older than twelve stalks out of my room, staring at me in fear. Oh right, Rick did mention I look like the human version of death in this outfit. It doesn't help that I kicked in the door with ease, but it was left unlocked. "This little boy was getting attacked... by this point, only Jason and Jared were with me. I lost all younger boys early on... They went to rescue him and didn't make it." She pulls out a chair, lowering herself down. I return to my position against the kitchen counter.

I wince, "they were just babies." Memories of Sophia surface. I quickly swallow it before my sister can register the change in my deposition. "I'm sorry." I gesture to the boy, "so you took him in."

"Yeah. I saw the truck out front. I thought someone had come in and I got worried for Jamie." She admits. "I was only a few blocks down. I take it that was you. Where did you get it?"

I remember seeing my white Volkswagen collecting dust and blood across the parking lot. There's no way it would be in any condition to drive with the state of affairs. It was already falling apart on me. Charlee had driven me to the airport while Wren talked about picking me up. Though, from my understanding, Kelly planned to show up to surprise me.

Our last fight mirrors mine and Daryl's so much; my heart sinks as the realization dawns on me.

I find Jamie, surveying him. His skin is tan, with green eyes and dark brown hair. Something I detect inside of him reminds me a bit of Daryl. Or maybe, I'm reaching, hoping to find even a crumb of something of him here. It's impossible, he's never left Georgia before everything crashed around us.

Jamie has the worn out glint of a survivor. He's watching me wearily, even though Victoria told him it was okay. That's good; being wary and untrusting of anyone he doesn't know might keep him alive a bit longer.

Daryl has that same, untrusting, guarded look ninety percent of the time, I muse. I sigh inwardly, I really fucking miss my other half.

I smirk, "the bike in the bed is mine, but I kind of stole the truck from some Charles Manson wannabe motherfucker." I shrug. "I see Owen was here." I motion to the paper behind me.

"I left that there in case you ever came back. Hopefully he's long dead." She peer down, fidgeting with her fingers. "I've been staying here because it's the safest place I could find."