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

ninety.

I've changed out of the bikers outfit and into ripped jeans, and oversized black sweater. I pulled my combat boots back on. I set my old outfit aside with the intentions of washing it after the funeral. I found a moment in the chaos to sneak away to take a shower, and freshen up; I washed all of the bullshit from the last few days from my skin.

I glance in mirror; dark circles dance under my eyes. It's a harsh contrast against my fair freckled complexion. I realize I look permanently tired and angry. Though, it's not far from the truth. After my little incident, I'm always on guard while the monster stirs restlessly inside my soul, waiting to be unleashed. Soon, I promise it and myself, I will get revenge for Jesus. I know he'd do the same if the roles were reversed.

My hands grip the sides of the sink while a sob tries to slip passed my pink lips. I beat it back before I lose control of my emotions. I already miss his wisdom. He would know exactly how to soothe the ache I feel when I'm around Daryl. I can only ignore him so long now that we are working together on getting the young teenager to spill all the dirty little details of her very dangerous group of feral humans. It's taken everything inside of me not to run into his arms, but I know he isn't mine anymore. He's mourned my death and moved on. Shit, he already fell into another woman's bed before news of my false death spread through the communities.

I'm having trouble feeling accepted back into Hilltop. Before I got kidnapped, I was already banned. I knew Jesus protested against Maggie's orders, but how many of her people sided with her call? I was already a loose cannon. Now, I'm more of a ticking time bomb. I'm able to mostly block out all of the shocked faces at my reappearance, and the comments of my return. It's only a matter of time before the monster makes itself known and I burn anyone too close to the fire.

However, my return isn't without drama unfortunately. As much as I want to cut it down before something big happens, again, I have a soul deep feeling that this is only the beginning of another war. So much for not raising the twins inside of a war zone. But this group will soon learn that they attacked the wrong people, with or without Rick, because I'm still here.

Sighing, I quickly run a brush through my short, straight brown hair before leaving the bathroom behind. I silently stalk outside of the Barrington house while everyone prepares for Jesus' funeral. I come to stop next to Daryl while he watches Charlee train our children in hand to hand combat. I steal a glance in his direction; I feel a lump lodge inside my throat. I never forgot how handsome he was, but he's aging like a fine wine. More grays litter his scruffy facial hair and pepper his long locks that kiss his shoulder. I cock my head, finding a new scar on his face below his blue eyes, and it stops shortly above his eyebrow. What the hell happened?

"They're good." He offers after a few beats of silence. He smirks, catching me stare at him.

I return my focus to our children while they get Charlee on her back with force. I nod, pride dancing on my face, "that they are. Have you talked to them, yet?"

He grunts, "nah. They ain't know me."

I watch him in the corner of my eye. He hangs his head awkwardly. "Yes they do. They know exactly who you are; a father who loved them very much, you just thought their mom was dead. I told them everything." I cross my arms, turning my attention to him, his eyes widen, meeting mine. "I don't believe in sugar coating shit. It's how you get killed in this world." I pause, allowing the statement to settle inside his bones. "They aren't mad at you, or me. They are very curious about you. Talk to them when you get the chance; but just a heads up - they are intelligent for their age." I fiddle anxiously with my fingers while I have his full attention. "They won't come to you, though. You gotta go to them."

He nods, but before he could replay, movement next to me catches his attention. He grows rigid. Curious, I glance over my shoulder, seeing James settle himself beside me, glowering at the redneck. "Aye runt, I got worried. It's been a long few days. Ya okay?" James questions.