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"𝐓𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐧."

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.・. .・゜✭・.・✫・゜・. .

Knocking. Knocking. Knocking.

The sound was loud, echoing through Sunny's dream until it pulled her out of sleep. She blinked her eyes open, still half-asleep, and heard the soft knocking again. For a moment, she didn't know where she was—then she remembered, Hilltop.

"Go away," she mumbled, turning over and yanking the blanket over her head.

She thought she heard a light chuckle from the other side of the door, but she ignored it. Whoever it was, they'd get the hint eventually. But then, she heard the door handle turn, the hinges creaking as it slowly swung open.

Sunny groaned loudly. Didn't they realize she just wanted to sleep? "I'm tryin' to sleep!" she shouted, her voice muffled and cranky.

"I know," came a familiar voice, amusement clear in the tone. "But you've got visitors on their way."

Sunny peeked out from under the covers and saw Maggie standing in the doorway, a small smile on her face. Sleep instantly vanished, and Sunny jumped up, practically throwing herself into Maggie's arms. "I didn't know you were back!" She said, her voice bright with excitement.

Sunny barely saw Maggie and Hershel Jr, only on the odd occasion that Sunny visited the Hilltop, which wasn't often. Maggie refused to go to Alexandria because of Negan, which was understandable, but it still hurt that she didn't get to see the woman as much anymore.

It was weird, Sunny had spent years seeing the same faces everyday. But, after Negan, the group had began to split up, Maggie and Enid at the Hilltop, Carol at the kingdom. Sunny hated it. 

Maggie laughed, wrapping her arms around Sunny in a warm hug. "Got back late last night. You were already asleep," she said, squeezing her gently.

"How was the run? Is Daryl comin'?" Sunny asked quickly.

"We got what we needed," Maggie said, though her smile faded a bit. "But we lost one of our people—a teenager." Her voice grew heavy, and Sunny's smile dropped as she leaned into Maggie's comforting embrace.

"They're staying at the Sanctuary for now," Maggie added, rubbing Sunny's back. "But Daryl and the others will be here soon. Don't worry."

Sunny finally pulled away from Maggie, her eyes narrowing as she noticed a cut on the woman's cheek, surrounded by dark bruising. She frowned, confusion and concern mixing in her gaze.

"What the hell happened to you?" Sunny asked, reaching up as if to touch Maggie's cheek, but stopping herself halfway.

Maggie's expression softened, but she gently pushed Sunny's hand away. "We'll talk about it later," she said, her tone firm but kind. "It's not important right now."

Sunny wanted to argue, to press for more, but before she could open her mouth, the distant rumble of a motorbike reached her ears. Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. She knew that sound—it was Daryl.

She spun around toward the window, her heart thudding in her chest as the low roar grew louder. Sunny didn't even wait for Maggie's reaction, already halfway to the door, excitement bubbling up inside her.

"You're still in your pajamas," Maggie chuckled.

"Dammit!" Sunny groaned, quickly throwing on some clothes as Maggie stepped out of the room.

As soon as she was dressed, she flung the door wide open, racing outside with bare feet slapping against the cold wooden floor. The familiar roar was growing closer, and she stood frozen on the porch, squinting into the distance. Moments later, a motorbike came into view, kicking up dust along the path leading to Hilltop.

Sunny's eyes lit up, a wide grin spreading across her face as the bike rolled to a stop, the engine cutting out. Daryl swung his leg over and dismounted, barely getting his feet on the ground before Sunny launched herself at him, throwing her arms around his neck.

"Hey, Sun," he said, his voice gruff but warm as he caught her mid-jump, pulling her into a tight hug.

Sunny held on, squeezing him hard like she hadn't seen him in months, even though it had only been a few days. She pressed her face against his shoulder, she had missed him so, so much. 

When she finally pulled back, Daryl was still holding onto her shoulders, giving her a long, steady look like he was making sure she was really okay. Then, with a soft smile, he let her go and reached around to sling a worn backpack off his shoulder.

"I got somethin' for ya," he said, his voice gentle but carrying a hint of that rough Daryl tone.

Sunny's eyes lit up with curiosity, watching him dig into the bag. He pulled out a couple of old, dusty books, holding them out to her. The covers were faded and battered, but Sunny's breath caught as she saw them.

"No shit!" She blurted out, her voice full of surprise and excitement. She grabbed the books eagerly, flipping through the pages with wide eyes, the yellowed paper crinkling under her fingers. It was like she was holding treasure, her smile growing wider with each page she turned.

Daryl chuckled softly, rubbing the back of his neck as he watched her. "Found 'em at the museum. Figured you'd like 'em."

"Like 'em? I love 'em!" She said, hugging the books to her chest. Her grin was so wide it made her cheeks ache, and she had to blink quickly to keep the tears in her eyes from spilling over. It was the kind of gift that meant a lot—Daryl remembering her love for books.

He pulled the girl back in for another hug, she looked past him and saw Rick and Michonne getting off their horses, but their faces were drawn with concern. She turned around, Maggie had joined them.

Sunny and Daryl both turned toward her properly, but there was something serious in Maggie's expression that made Sunny's smile falter. Whatever had caused the cut on the woman's face, the girl knew something bad was coming.

.・. .・゜✭・.・✫・゜・. .

Sunny had found out that it was Earl who had hurt Maggie, also hurting Enid in the process, too. It was his son that they had lost on the run, the man was grieving and Gregory had taken advantage of that. He had told him that it had all been Maggie's fault, and in his state, Earl had believed it.

Gregory had then tried to kill Maggie with a knife when she confronted him, and Sunny wasn't quite sure what was going to happen to the man. When Maggie was explaining, her eyes landed on Sunny and the girl had been told to go an read her new books. Sunny assumed Gregory was probably going to be killed. 

But, since in their eyes, she was still a kid, she wasn't exactly sure what was going to happen. She supposed if Gregory being killed was the case, she didn't see it as an awful thing. He was an asshole, and he had tried to kill Maggie. She decided him dying wouldn't be so bad.

Sunny had spent an hour on her own in Barrington house as the adults talked, and she spent the time looking through the historic books. The pages were worn, but inside, they were incredible. Some showed medieval manuscripts, others ancient illustrations. They were cool as shit. 

The girl was sprawled out on the old leather couch, one of the few comfy spots she'd managed to find in Barrington House. She was so lost in the detailed illustrations and faded words that she didn't even notice the sound of footsteps until they were right next to her.

She glanced up, her face lighting up when she saw Daryl. He gave a tired half-smile, eyes softening as he looked down at her. Without a word, she scooted over, making room for him to sit. He settled next to her, the couch creaking under his weight, and leaned back with a sigh.

"How's the book?" He asked, nodding towards the open pages in her lap.

"It's good," Sunny replied, a grin tugging at her lips. "Did you know that knights used to carry these massive swords called claymores? They were, like, taller than me!" She held her arms wide to demonstrate, eyes wide with excitement.

Daryl chuckled, nodding along even though he didn't really care much about ancient history. But if Sunny was into it, then he'd sit there and listen to every word like it was the most fascinating thing in the world. He watched her face light up as she talked, her enthusiasm infectious, even if he didn't get the big deal about claymores.

"Sounds heavy," he said with a smirk, glancing at the page she was showing him. "Guess ya better stick to yer knife."

"Yeah," Sunny laughed. "I think I'll leave the sword stuff to the knights."

For a moment, they just sat there, Sunny still flipping through the pages while Daryl sat quietly beside her. She noticed the way he seemed more relaxed, the weight he always carried on his shoulders a little lighter. She closed the book gently, looking up at him with curiosity.

"How you been since I last saw ya?" Daryl asked, his voice low. There was a hint of something vulnerable in his tone, like he wasn't sure he wanted to hear the answer.

Sunny shrugged, the movement small and uncertain. "I missed you," she said honestly. It was the truth, even if there was more to it—more she didn't know how to say. But missing him was a safe start, something she could say without all the complicated feelings that churned inside her.

Realistically, the girl wasn't exactly quite sure what the problem inside her mind actually was. The war was over, Negan was still alive, all the communities were becoming better. Why did she still feel so not herself?

It didn't make much sense, she guessed her not seeing Daryl as much was a problem, but there were other stuff too that hurt. Maybe it was Carl not being around, maybe it was Lincoln, maybe it was people still looking at her in disdain for being Negan's daughter. She wasn't quite sure, but she just wished everything would feel right again.

Daryl nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. "Yeah... I missed ya too." He paused, taking a deep breath before speaking again. "Stepped down from leadin' the Sanctuary. Done with that place for good."

Sunny's heart skipped a beat, and she couldn't stop the wide smile that spread across her face. "Seriously? You're back for good?"

"Yeah," he said, and the warmth in his gaze made her feel like maybe, just maybe, things were going to be okay. "Figured I should be back here, where I belong. With you."

Sunny couldn't help the happiness that bubbled up in her chest. They'd be able to live together again, without the long gaps of time apart, without wondering when she'd see him next.

"So you're really not goin' back?" She asked, just to be sure.

"Not if I can help it," Daryl replied, giving her a lopsided smile. He ruffled her hair, fingers lingering a little longer, like he was still trying to reassure himself she was really there.

They fell into a comfortable silence, the kind that only happened with people who knew each other inside out. But then Daryl's expression turned serious, his eyes narrowing a little. "You alright? Really?"

Sunny hesitated, a small knot forming in her stomach. She wasn't sure how to answer, so she did what she always did—she brushed it off. "Yeah, I'm fine," she said quickly, plastering on a grin. "Just been listenin' to Rick grumble all the time. I swear, his new hobby is complainin' about everythin' I do."

She put on a mock-serious face, stroking an imaginary beard like Rick's, and dropped her voice to imitate him. "'Sunny, you can't be runnin' off like that,'" she mimicked, making Daryl snort with laughter. "'Sunny, you gotta follow the rules. Sunny, quit teachin' Judith cuss words.'"

Daryl chuckled, shaking his head. "Sounds about right," he said, the tension easing a little from his face. But he wasn't fooled. He knew Sunny too well to believe her cheerful front, even if he didn't push her on it.

Sunny was glad he didn't press, but she could see the concern still lingering in his eyes. She grabbed the book again, eager to move the conversation back to something lighter. "Wanna know more 'bout knights?" she asked, holding it up with a grin.

"Sure," Daryl said, his voice soft. "Tell me more 'bout them knights."

She launched back into the stories, talking about armor and castles and ancient battles. Daryl listened, his gaze soft as he watched her come back to life, even if only a little. Watching her enthuse about all the ancient words and lifestyle made him smile.

For a moment, she looked like the little girl he'd first met back at the farm—curious and bright-eyed, with that spark of excitement for the things she loved. Daryl could still picture that girl, the one who had followed him around, always full of questions and wonder. Time and hardship had taken a toll on her, but those moments, rare as they were, reminded him that she was still in there. The world hadn't crushed her completely.

It made him happy to see her that way, if only for a little while. He'd listen to her talk for hours on end if she wanted. Anything to keep that spark alive, even for a few more minutes. 

Daryl leaned back, his fingers running absently over the rough leather of the couch. He loved that she was a part of his family, that she was his kid. It was like she just fit—like she belonged with him in a way that felt right. 

He wasn't one for big, emotional speeches, but he knew he'd do anything to protect her. And if she wanted to talk about knights and castles until the sun went down, then he'd sit there and listen, content just to be there with her.

The thought of her not being around, of losing that little spark she brought to his life, made his chest tighten. He wasn't good with words, didn't know how to tell her how much she meant to him, but he hoped she knew. Daryl had never had much family—real family— apart from Merle and until the group, until her. Now, he had her, and it made all the difference.

.・. .・゜✭・.・✫・゜・. .

For some reason, Daryl had been very strict about what time Sunny should go to bed, it was as if as soon as it got dark, he hurried her up to her bedroom, telling her he would be up soon. It was weird, very weird. 

Sunny had decided the man just wanted her to get a good night sleep for once and tried to ignore how strange he was acting, but like usual, she couldn't sleep. The girl couldn't keep up with how many times she had tossed and turned, she'd even resorted to counting sheep, but that didn't work at all since she kept trying to name the different sheep.

With a sigh, Sunny got out of bed and padded over to the window, reaching for her worn-out dictionary. She figured reading a few pages might be enough to make her eyes heavy. But as her fingers wrapped around the book's spine, she noticed something strange—a flickering light outside.

She froze, her curiosity piqued. The light wasn't from the house, but from outside, and it moved in an odd, dancing pattern. Sunny's heart gave a little leap of excitement mixed with worry. She leaned closer to the window and peeked through the blinds.

Torches. Several of them. A small group of people had gathered near the front gate, their faces partially illuminated by the warm, unsteady glow. Sunny squinted, trying to make out who was there and what they were doing. What the hell was going on?

She didn't hesitate. Grabbing her boots, she yanked them on, not bothering to tie them properly, and threw on her jacket and then tiptoed down the stairs. She paused only for a moment at the front door, her hand hovering over the handle. Part of her knew she should wait for Daryl, but the curiosity was too strong. She had to see what was happening.

The night air was cool, and she pulled her jacket tighter around herself as she slipped outside. Staying in the shadows, she edged closer to the gathering, careful not to draw attention to herself. 

This was why Daryl had been so eager for her to go to sleep early, something was happening, she just wasn't quite sure what that something was.

Everyone's attention was fixed on the main gate, where the torches were clustered, and Sunny took a step closer, keeping to the sidelines. Her eyes darted between the faces, trying to pick up snippets of conversation. Whispers drifted through the air, low and urgent, but she couldn't make out what they were saying. There was a tension there that made her skin prickle.

What was going on? She had to know.

She looked around, her lips parting as she finally saw a figure. Gregory. The man was sat on top of a horse, a rope wrapped around his neck that was connected to a building structure. They were killing him, just as she had believed. But, she didn't think they'd do it in such a way, making it public, making it a lesson. 

Maggie walked forward, looking around at the small gathering of people. "I don't want to do this," the woman began, her tone serious. "But people need to understand that at Hilltop, the punishment fits the crime." Maggie then turned towards Gregory, who was shaking on top of the horse. "Do you have any final words?"

As the light from one of the torches struck Gregory's face, Sunny could see that he was crying—a deep, desperate kind of crying. It twisted her stomach into knots, making her feel sick. It reminded her of the Sanctuary, of the time she watched Negan burn a man's face. But this was different. That man had survived; Gregory wouldn't. He was going to die, and he knew it.

"What you're doing isn't right," Gregory cried, his voice cracking. "Somebody stop this, please. Killing me in the dead of the night because you're ashamed."

"You're wrong," Sunny heard Maggie reply to his words. "I'm not ashamed." Then, with a subtle nod from the woman, the girl saw Daryl approach the horse.

"Stop this, please!" Gregory begged. "Now, for the love of god, stop it!" He desperately pleaded.

Sunny watched with wide eyes, she understood that Gregory deserved to die for what he had done, but making it some kind of spectacle, it felt wrong. Hearing the man cry and plead for his life made her feel sick.

Then, Michonne turned, spotting the girl. Instantly, her eyes widened as she leaped forward. "Maggie, stop!" She cried out, Rick quickly holding her back.

But, it was too late. Daryl patted the horses back, forcing it to run forward. Gregory dropping, the rope tightening around his neck as he dangled in the air, his feet kicking uselessly. The silence was filled with the sounds of the man choking, desperately gasping for air that he would never reach. 

The sight, the sound—everything about it was wrong. Her stomach twisted sharply, and before she could stop herself, she doubled over and threw up. She had seen death before, had even been the cause of it, but this felt different. 

He wasn't an immediate threat. He was a man—one who had made terrible choices, a coward but still just a man, hanging in front of a crowd as everyone watched. It was too much, and it made her feel things she didn't understand.

This wasn't self-defense, it wasn't a fight for survival. This was punishment delivered with purpose, and she didn't know how to feel about that.

.・. .・゜✭・.・✫・゜・. .

Daryl pushed the door open to Maggie's office, his movements heavy with the weight of what had happened. He ran a hand through his hair, the other hanging loosely at his side, fingers tapping against his thigh like he couldn't quite shake off the tension. Maggie looked up from behind her desk, concern already etched on her face.

"Is Sunny alright?" Maggie asked, her voice soft but edged with worry.

Daryl nodded, dropping his hand and shoving it into his pocket. "Yeah," he said, though the word came out more like a sigh. "She fell asleep. Just... tryin' to make sense of it all, y'know?" His tone was gruff, but there was a sadness in his eyes. He hated seeing Sunny that way, confused, hurting, sick to her stomach over something she couldn't understand.

Maggie's shoulders slumped a little as she leaned back in her chair, sighing. "I don't blame her," she murmured. "That was a lot for her to see." She paused, her gaze lingering on Daryl. "How's she been? In Alexandria?"

Daryl hesitated, his jaw tightening as he thought about it. "When I've seen her, says she's been alright," he admitted, his voice carrying a hint of doubt. "But... I don't know if that's the truth. If she's hurtin', she ain't gonna say nothin'. She just keeps it to herself."

Maggie nodded, her expression troubled. "And... Negan?" She asked carefully, watching Daryl's reaction closely. "Has she seen him?"

His face darkened for a second, then he shook his head. "Once," he said sharply, like he wanted to shut the thought down before it could grow. "But she knows better. She ain't gonna go back there."

Maggie's lips tightened, and she looked down at her hands. "I heard she hasn't stopped," she said quietly. "Going to see him, I mean. Some people say she's been sneakin' down there a lot."

Daryl's eyes narrowed, a flare of disbelief in them. "That's bullshit," he muttered, shaking his head. "Rick would'a told me if she was doin' that."

"Would he?" Maggie countered, raising an eyebrow. There was a coldness in her voice, a frustration that had been building up for far too long. "Or would he think it's better not to tell you? Keep it quiet, pretend like everything's fine?"

Daryl's jaw clenched, and he didn't answer right away. The idea of Sunny sneaking out to see Negan made his blood run cold, and Maggie's words only added fuel to the anger he'd been trying to suppress for so long. He stared at the floor, his hands curling into fists at his sides.

Maggie took a deep breath, the anger that had been simmering under the surface finally boiling over. "I can't stand it," she said, her voice hard. "I can't stand that he's still alive. After everything he did... after what he did to Glenn." Her eyes were fierce now, blazing with a determination that Daryl recognized. "I thought I could live with it, but I can't. We should've finished him when we had the chance. Like we already said, I think we need to end it."

Daryl's gaze lifted to meet hers, and for a moment, they were both silent. He hated the thought that Negan still got to live, and he was quick to believe Maggie's words, how couldn't he? The man still somehow had a hold onto Sunny, one that she still couldn't shake.

Negan's survival had always felt like an open wound that refused to heal, and now it was pulling Sunny back into the past, into the pain that he'd been trying to keep her away from.

Maggie's voice dropped, barely more than a whisper. "We have to finish it," she said, and there was no hesitation in her words. "For Glenn. For everyone. For Sunny."

Daryl's eyes flickered, and he nodded slowly. He didn't want to admit it, didn't want to face the truth that he'd been pushing down for so long, but he knew Maggie was right. As long as Negan was alive, Sunny was never going to be free of that shadow. It was a bitter reality, one that tasted like ash on his tongue, but he couldn't ignore it any longer.

"Yeah," he said finally, his voice low and rough. "We do."

Maggie's shoulders relaxed just a fraction, relief mingling with the anger in her eyes. There was no turning back now, and they both knew it. They had a job to finish—a promise to keep.

Daryl leaned back against the wall, arms crossing over his chest as he thought about Sunny. He didn't want her anywhere near this, didn't want her to get hurt again. He could still see the look on her face when she watched Gregory die, the way her eyes had gone wide with shock and confusion. It had torn at him, made him want to pull her away from all of it, to hide her away from the darkness that kept finding its way into their lives. But he couldn't do that—not anymore.

Maggie's eyes were fixed on him, waiting for his answer. "We'll keep her safe," she said softly, but there was a fierceness in her words. "We have to."

Daryl nodded, the resolve settling deep in his chest. "Yeah," he said again, his voice firmer this time. "We will." He knew what he had to do, what they both had to do. There was no more room for doubt.

The decision was made. Negan had to die, and they would be the ones to make it happen. Nothing was going to stop them.

.・. .・゜✭・.・✫・゜・. .