The Sharpest Lives

Hey all, here is a Daryl Dixon/OC story!! The title is from a My Chemical Romance song, which I do not own anything of. I also own nothing related to the walking dead, but do own my characters!:) I hope you all enjoy!

Quick elevator pitch: IRL I do believe Daryl is an asexual character, but that is no fun for my romantic fan fictions! Still, any romantic connection I can make has to be a slow burn romance, for it is Daryl Dixon after all. This story will take place at the beginning of season 1, and last for however long I can go. Based off the TV show, but in later seasons I may have some fun and incorporate some cool comic book stuff. Hang on tight and enjoy the awkward, blossoming friends to lovers.

Updated AN: I started this story a while ago when my writing was pitiful, so I have been going through an editing chapters! Might be fun for anyone who wants to reread like me. I am editing quite a bit, including dialogue, character interactions, and even a bit of Ace's back story. I'll post some info on her background as a chapter shortly.

This chapter has been updated 12/20/20. 

 To adapt is to change your behavior so that it is easier to live in a particular place or situation.

That's what Ace has done all her life, and now that it's the zombie apocalypse, it's a skill that she's glad to have picked up. To survive you must adapt. It is her number one rule of life. You have to accept what is thrown your way and if you can't change it, change yourself. Make room for it.

Make room for the pain, sadness, anger, and pure fear that runs deep in your bones, especially now that you may be a lone survivor, like she is. A lone survivor at the fucking end of the world.

Ace doesn't plan on being alone for long, though. She plans on finding her little sister, Frankie, who she last saw at the Children's Foster Care Center a few weeks ago. After visiting her young sibling nearly everyday, this month was supposed to be the time she was finally able to bring her home. But things went to shit. And when they did, they went fast.

Ace lived an hour outside of Atlanta, from a small town on the outskirts of Gillsville. Ace was at work when the first bit of news started to come across the radio. No one thought much of it. Hell, she didn't pay any attention to it. And then in a matter of what felt like seconds, panic wracked every street and every city.

It took her 42 days to reach Atlanta.

On day 16, she learned that the city was bombed, napalm released across the streets. She nearly gave up, all hope lost. But she had nothing else, nowhere else to go. She had to see it through.

On day 37, she stood in front of the foster care center. The small building was nearly demolished, debris covering the entire diameter. Once again, she almost gave up. The only thing that kept her together were the tire marks on the pavement. After inspection, she noticed there was a small handful of busses missing from the parking lot. 

She didn't run into any of these busses on her travels, nor did she encounter any undead children. Therefore, if her assumptions were correct, they got the kids out. She tried not to think about the state of the highway. This was enough for now.

Ace was intending to get the hell out of this city, too, but she found that a bit more complicated than once thought. Now, on day 42, she was still sneaking around the streets of Atlanta, scavenging what she could. The only thing on her mind was Frankie. 

The week after Frankie was born, unbeknownst to her, there was a knock on Ace's door. From that day forward, she had a little sister and was the sole caretaker. Ace turned her life upside down, committing herself to the infant. Everything she did, she did for her sister.