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

ninetynine.

Four months later.

I groan, stirring from another night of a turbulent slumber. I rub my face, attempting to rid the exhaustion from my eyes, and hopefully, my soul. For that, it would be a genuine miracle. Suddenly, the sound of hushed voices coming from my closed door grabs my attention. I glance at the empty spot beside me, detecting my husbands tone on the other side of the wood, along with James. I quietly approach the door, curiosity getting the best of me. I reiterate, without fail, I'm always the god forsaken cat.

"I'd like to apologize," James offers. "I owe ya as much. I was wrong about ya. My baby sister is crazy about ya. I ain't ever see her like that with anyone, including Kelly. I see how ya are with her. It's not one-sided."

I smirk, imagining my husband glaring at my brother with one of his unreadable expressions. It's the rednecks specialty, after all. After a few moments of silence, Daryl grunts, acknowledging his words, "alright. We're good."

James unmistakable muffled voice comes again, "she's come along way in the few months since returnin' then she has the last six years. If I knew she just needed ya, I would've told her to get her head outta her ass, and dragged her back, kickin' and screamin'. Thank ya for bein' what she needs."

"She told me everythin'. I get it; what she did and why ya reacted that way. No hard feelings, man. Ya ain't have to apologize. Ya were tryin' to protect her. I respect it." After a few beats of silence, "ya were with her?" Daryl quietly inquires.

"Yeah. He pretty much left me alone once he got her. I didn't see much of anythin', but I heard it." James whispers, "I'm just glad she has everyone to keep her goin'."

I back away from the door, not wanting to eavesdrop on the rest of their conversation. I scramble about the room, trading in my makeshift Pjs for my ripped jeans, Avenged Sevenfold t-shirt, and combat boots. It's a miracle alone that this shirt has survived since the beginning of the end.  I quickly run a brush through my short brown hair, letting it frame my face like I do any other day.

I'm still reeling from the conversation between Daryl and James. I know their relationship got off on the wrong foot, but I'm thankful James decided to finally wave the white flag. As much as they avoided each other until that moment, I'm glad I no longer have to worry about either of them stepping on the others toes anymore.

Music dances on the air, I stalk to the window, moving the white curtain out of the way, peering out into the courtyard. I spot Luke playing an acoustic guitar for the children. I grin, noticing Wren in the front row, sitting between the twins as they clap happily for the short brown haired man. Luke's face lights up, observing the same scene as I just had.

I chew on my lip, realizing that I've been neglecting my decision to get to know these newcomers. With my resolve in check, I reach for my leather coat, leaving the room behind, noticing that James and Daryl abandoned the doorway. My boots silently step through the Barrington house before I break through the front doors, finally making it to my destination.

I lurk in the back, allowing Luke to finish this show before I approach him. I observe as his crowd begins to disperse. Taking this moment by the horns, I step towards him, his head snaps up at the sound of my footsteps heading in his direction. Curiosity paints his round his face. He smiles warmly as I come to a stop before him. "What do I owe this visit?"

"You were a music teacher?" I question him on the rumors I heard through the grapevine.

"Yes, ma'am," he nods, grinning.

Shaking my head, "Vanessa, please." I gesture to the instrument in his grasp, "I notice you're knowledgeable in the classics, but what about Master of Puppets?"