﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

"𝐖𝐡𝐨 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥 𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐞𝐧."

·········

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

When Sunny reunited with Rick, Carl, and Michonne, it was clear she wasn't the same girl who had been with them before. That much was clear since her hands, and her bat were both coated in blood.

The warm, hopeful kid who always had something to say now walked with her head down, her gaze distant. Her once constant chatter was replaced by heavy silence, her bright smile now a distant memory. As they made their way along the old train tracks, the rhythmic crunch of gravel under their feet was the only sound that filled the air.

Sunny stayed close to the group but kept a noticeable distance. Her bat rested on her shoulder, her eyes scanning the horizon as if she was constantly preparing for the worst. There was a tension in her posture, like she was carrying the weight of everything she had been through, and it showed, even after days of her no longer being alone.

Rick exchanged a look with Michonne, both of them knowing something had changed in her. She wasn't the same girl who used to find comfort in their presence, the one who once looked up to them like family. Now, she seemed more like a stranger, guarded, distant, her kindness buried under the layers of what she had endured.

Sunny had always been tough, but now, that toughness felt different, colder, almost. She didn't look to them for reassurance or protection anymore. She walked like someone who had already learned the hard way that no one was coming to save her.

The kind, soft-hearted Sunny who used to crack jokes and smile at every small thing was gone. What stood in her place was someone quieter, colder, like the world had finally chipped away the last of her innocence.

Carl fell into step beside Sunny, glancing at her every now and then, trying to gauge if she'd talk on her own. He hadn't seen her like this before, so shut off. He missed the girl who would laugh and tease him, someone who always seemed to lighten the weight of the world, even when it was crashing down around them.

"Hey," he started, his voice careful, trying not to push too hard. "You remember that time back at the prison, when you and I used to sneak extra food from the supply room?"

Sunny didn't look at him. Her eyes stayed glued to the tracks ahead, her face as blank as ever. "Yeah," she muttered, her voice barely audible.

Carl wasn't discouraged. He pressed on, hoping to coax her out of the shell she'd built around herself. "Well, you're never gonna believe what I did. After... y'know, everything happened with the prison, I found this giant can of chocolate pudding. Like, 112 ounces. Biggest damn thing I've ever seen."

He saw the slightest twitch in her expression, like she was listening but didn't want to show it.

"I ate the whole thing," Carl said with a grin, exaggerating for effect. "All of it. Sat on the roof of this random house and just stuffed my face. I thought I was gonna die from a sugar overdose."

For the briefest moment, Carl thought he saw something break through that cold wall she'd built around herself, a tiny glimmer of the old Sunny, the one who would've teased him about eating too much or called him an idiot for stuffing his face. But it was gone before he could latch onto it.

"Sounds like something you'd do," she said quietly, but the usual spark in her voice was missing. It wasn't playful or teasing; it was flat, distant.

Carl frowned, his playful tone fading into something more serious. "I'm glad you're back with us, Sunny," he said softly. "It wasn't the same without you, you know?"

Her chest tightened, the weight of his words settling in. She felt the urge to respond, to tell him she was glad too, but the words caught in her throat. Instead, she kept her gaze locked on the ground ahead, her hands balled into fists at her sides. "Yeah," she muttered after a moment, though her voice carried no conviction.

Carl opened his mouth to say more but closed it, sensing that pushing further wouldn't help. He just kept walking beside her, hoping that one day, Sunny would come back, not just physically, but fully. Until then, he'd settle for her quiet presence. It was better than not having her at all.

Michonne's sharp eyes caught the exchange between Carl and Sunny, her gaze softening as she noticed Carl's attempts to reach out. She could tell Sunny wasn't ready, not yet. With a subtle nod, she called out to Carl.

"Hey, Carl," Michonne's voice was steady, calm. "Come help me out with something over here."

Carl hesitated for a second, glancing between Sunny and Michonne, but he understood. With a final, hopeful look at Sunny, he jogged over to where Michonne was walking a few paces behind, leaving Sunny alone at the front of the group.

Rick, who had been trailing just behind, took that as his moment. He walked up beside Sunny, matching her pace. For a while, he didn't say anything, just walked in silence, allowing her the time and space she clearly needed. The tension hung thick between them, the kind that comes after loss, after too many battles fought and too many people gone.

He glanced over at her, studying her for a moment. Her face was set in that same hardened expression she'd had ever since they found her again. It wasn't the face of the kid who'd once begged him to let her read to the pigs for longer or the one who'd sprinted around the prison with Carl like the world hadn't fallen apart. This was different, she was different.

"Been a while since you talked to me," Rick finally said, his voice low, careful not to push too hard.

Sunny didn't look at him, just kept walking, her eyes fixed on the path ahead. The silence stretched again, uncomfortable, but Rick wasn't going to let her shut him out, not completely.

"I'm glad you're back," he added, his tone softer. "But I can see something's changed."

She swallowed hard but didn't respond, her steps never faltering, though her hands flexed slightly at her sides, like she was holding onto something just under the surface.

"I've been there," he said. Rick glanced at her again, letting out a breath. "You don't have to carry it all by yourself, you know."

For a moment, there was no reaction. Then, she stopped walking. Rick paused too, waiting, hoping she'd open up, even just a little. She stood there, her back rigid, her shoulders tense.

Finally, she spoke, her voice quiet but heavy. "It's different now, Rick. Everythin' is different."

Rick stepped in front of her, gently turning to face her, but she still wouldn't meet his eyes. "Yeah, it is," he agreed, his voice steady. "But we're still here. I'm still here. For you."

Sunny shook her head, a bitter smile pulling at her lips. "It doesn't matter, does it? People die. They always do."

Rick's heart clenched at her words. She sounded so much older than she was, like all the hope she used to carry had been drained out of her. He hated that she'd come to this point, but he wasn't going to let her fall any further if he could help it.

"Yeah," Rick said quietly. "But not everyone. Not you. You're still standing."

Her eyes flicked up to his for the first time, just briefly, before darting away again. "For how long?" she muttered.

"For as long as we keep fighting," Rick said, his voice firm but not harsh. He softened again, trying to reach her through the walls she'd built. "We're not alone, Sunny. We never were. And you don't have to be either."

Sunny's expression tightened, her jaw clenched. She couldn't let herself believe in that. Not anymore. Not after everything. But part of her, deep down, wanted to, wanted to trust that she wasn't as alone as she felt.

But she couldn't bring herself to say it. Not yet.

Instead, she gave a small, almost imperceptible nod, as if to acknowledge his words without fully accepting them. Then she started walking again, leaving Rick standing there, watching her retreat once more into her silence.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 - Attempted SA and Violence.

Sunny and Carl were nestled in a broken down car, after hours of walking, Rick had decided it was time for them to rest up for the night. Him and Michonne were sat around a fire, keeping watch as the children tried to sleep.

As they had walked along the tracks, a sign had kept appearing: Sanctuary for all, community for all. Those who arrive survive. Terminus. Rick had decided that's where they were headed, a glimmer of hope shining in his eyes that this place could offer safety for the four of them.

But Sunny wasn't so sure. Trusting a place that flaunted its welcome to everyone felt dangerous. The prison had been safe, but they hadn't been broadcasting their location to the entire world. It seemed reckless, almost inviting danger rather than escaping it.

Carl was laying back on the drivers seat chair, trying to sleep. Sunny wouldn't be able to sleep if she tried, she didn't want to put her guard down. She looked over at the boy, she couldn't help but wonder why Judith wasn't with the Grimes', she assumed it only meant one thing.

It wasn't fair.

The girl sighed, moving her eyes to the ceiling of the car. She wished and wished she had her journal with her, she wanted to speak to her mom so bad. There were so many emotions going on inside her mind all at once, she wanted to make sense of them, but she just couldn't.

It was beyond strange to her how everything had impacted her so much, she was good, well, she believed she was a good person. But, everything good about her had shattered in an instant. Why? Was this who she was? Was she supposed to be a killer?

Her thoughts were abruptly interrupted when she felt a gentle grip on her hand. She flinched instinctively, pulling back slightly as she turned her head, only to find Carl looking at her with concern etched across his face. Sunny took a deep breath, feeling her tension ease as he tightened his grip, silently assuring her that he was there for her.

The silence that surrounded them was quickly shattered by an unexpected intrusion. Sunny shot up at the sound of a voice that was unrecognizable, her heart racing. She quickly turned to look out the window shield and froze. Two men were standing outside, guns aimed directly at Michonne and Rick.

"Oh, dearie me. You screwed up, asshole." The man who had his gun trained on Rick spoke. More men then emerged from the woods, Sunny took a panicked breath, these were the friends of the guy she had killed. "You hear me? You screwed up."

Sunny was quick to move her hand away from Carl's, making him shoot up from his spot also. They both shared a worried glance, unsure on what to do, how they could help. They were fucked.

"Today is a day of reckoning, sir. Restitution! A balancing of the whole damn universe." The same man spoke again, a disgusting grin etched on his face. The man lifted his head, looking through the car window shield, he squinted his eyes, staring right at Sunny. "No way! We thought we lost your trail blondie! But here you are!"

Sunny wanted to be sick. Back in the woods, she had no idea what that man wanted to do to her, but she knew it wasn't anything good. She knew what these men wanted was far from good, too.

The car felt like it was protecting her and Carl, but that safety was shattered by the harsh, metallic clang of a knife striking the window, right next to Carl. A larger man stood, staring at the two children with a sinister grin. Then, the same sound again, Sunny turned her head, another man right by her window, the same sickening look on his face.

"Shit, and I was thinkin' of turning in for the night on New Years Eve," the man chuckled, still holding the gun at Rick's head. "Now who's gonna count down the ball dropper with me, huh? Ten Mississippi... nine Mississippi... eight Mississippi-"

"Joe!" A familiar voice called out, interrupting the man. Sunny quickly looked around, hoping it wasn't her mind playing games on her. But it wasn't. From the woods, a figure emerged, one that she had been longing for. Daryl.

Sunny watched him hesitantly approach, she could see that he was scared. But none of it made sense to her, how did Daryl know these people? Was he with them?

"Hold up," Daryl said, approaching Michonne and Rick with his hand raised. His lips were slightly parted, he was afraid. If Daryl knew these men, and even he was scared, Sunny knew that they were in deep, deep shit.

"You're stoppin' me on eight, Daryl." 'Joe' grumbled.

"Just hold up," Daryl repeated, slowly walking forward. Over and over again, he had shut down Beth's optimism, he truly thought everyone from the prison was gone. But now, right in front of him, sat Rick and Michonne.

His eyes scanned the scene, catching Carl's terrified expression through the window of the car. But then, next to Carl, something else caught his attention, golden locks. His heart stuttered in his chest as his gaze met wide, blue eyes.

Sunny.

For a moment, time seemed to freeze, everything else blurring out. Her journal, the wooden horse, both had been stained with blood. He had accepted it then, that she was gone. He had no hope left. But here she was, alive.

Relief crashed over him like a wave, almost knocking him off his feet. He couldn't believe it. He felt the weight that had been suffocating him for so long lift just a little.

But that relief didn't last. Sunny, and all of them, were in danger. Daryl knew exactly what these men were capable of, and now it looked like his family was next.

"This is the guy that killed Lou, and the girl that killed Jeff," one of the men growled. "We got nothin' to talk about."

Daryl's breath hitched. They had been talking about these two deaths for days. The kid was Sunny. He hadn't even thought that she could've been the one. Sunny wouldn't kill unless she was cornered, unless she was in danger.

The realization hit him like a punch to the gut. He felt sick.

"The thing about nowadays is we got nothing but time. Say your piece, Daryl," Joe said casually, as if he wasn't holding a gun at Rick's head.

"These people, you're gonna let 'em go. These are good people," Daryl said seriously.

"Now, I think Lou and Jeff would disagree with you on that. I'll, of course, have to speak for them and all 'cause your friends here strangled Lou in a bathroom and beat Jeff to death with a damn bat." Joe said.

Daryl took another shaky breath, Sunny, the girl who hated the thought of killing, the girl who was too innocent for this world, beat a man to death. What had he done to her?

"You want blood, I get it. Take it from me, man. Come on," Daryl offered, dropping his crossbow to the ground as he put his hands out at the sides. He didn't care if these people hurt him, he would rather die than let any of his family be hurt. He stood there, practically pleading them to take his life rather than theirs.

Joe stared at Daryl, his mouth slightly agape. "These people killed our friends. You say they're good people. See, that right there is a lie. It's a lie!"

In a matter of seconds, Daryl was circled by some of the men. Sunny yelled out as they began throwing punches at him, as did Rick.

"Teach him, fellas! Teach him all the way!"

Daryl was thrown against the car, Sunny watched him being beaten as she shook violently, unable to help. Then the car door swung open, the large man gripping Carl and dragging him out. Sunny screamed trying to grasp Carl. "No! Get off'a him!" She begged, but her own door opened and she was grabbed from behind by another man.

"You leave them be!" Rick yelled, listening to both of the children plea for help. Sunny thrashed against the man, a scream escaping her as he put a knife to her throat and chuckled sadistically down her ear. "Listen, it was me. It was just me!" Rick spoke, his teeth clenched.

"Goddamn! You people just lie and lie! Blondie over there is just as guilty!" Joe scoffed out, pointing over to Sunny. "Look, we can settle this, we're reasonable men. First, we're gonna beat Daryl to death. Then we'll have the woman and the boy, keep blondie alive. Then, I'm gonna shoot you and then we'll be square."

Both of the men threw the children to the ground, not wasting a second to get on top of them as they held them down. Sunny was kicking, thrashing wildly, desperately trying to get away, but she couldn't. "Stop your squirming!" The man chuckled out.

Carl's and Sunny's cries pierced the air, they were children. Sometimes, that was forgotten, but they were just kids, they weren't fighters, they weren't as strong as adults. They couldn't do anything to help themselves.

"Let them go!" Rick snarled, his voice thick with rage. His body shook, adrenaline coursing through him as his eyes darted between Carl and Sunny.

Sunny was on the ground, trembling, tears streaming down her face. She'd always been a symbol of hope and happiness, a light in the darkest moments. But since the fall of the prison, that light had started to flicker. Rick couldn't let it go out. He wouldn't let it go out.

He had to act.

Without hesitation, Rick jerked his head back, slamming it into Joe's arm and knocking the gun away. Joe stumbled, pulling the trigger in the confusion. The shot rang out, making Rick's ears scream with the deafening noise. Dizzy, he staggered to his feet, trying to shake off the disorienting ringing in his ears. As soon as he gained his balance, he drove his fist into Joe's face.

But Joe was fast. He swung back, his fist colliding with Rick's jaw, sending him sprawling into the dirt. "I got him. Oh, it's gonna be so much worse now!" Joe spoke, sending a kick into Rick's ribs.

Sunny sobbed, struggling beneath the weight of the man pinning her down, her efforts to shove him off proving futile.

She had fought so hard to hold on to her beliefs, clinging to the hope that everyone had goodness in them, that true evil didn't exist. She had needed to believe that. But time after time, the world had shattered those ideals, breaking her spirit piece by piece. She'd been naive, foolish even, to think that things could be any different.

"I'm gonna enjoy this," the man whispered, his cruel smirk not leaving his face.

"Come on, get up! Let's see what you got!" Joe challenged, as Rick struggled to get up from the ground.

The man managed to turn Sunny around, her face pressed against the dirt. She released a loud, piercing scream, but it didn't help, he didn't, he wouldn't stop. She heard the man fiddling with what sounded like his belt, she squeezed her eyes shut, her tears mingling with the dirt.

"You leave them be!" Rick yelled, stumbling as he managed to stand. Both of the children were crying, both of them vulnerable. But he couldn't do anything.

Joe grabbed onto Rick, stopping him from getting anywhere close to the two children. "What the hell are you going to do now, sport?" Joe chuckled, pulling Rick to his chest.

Just as Sunny felt the man move to her pants, she heard a gut wrenching scream. She opened her eyes and saw Rick biting into Joe's neck. The man had a huge hole in his throat, blood spurting out as he gurgled then dropped to the ground. Rick spat out the flesh, blood spraying from his mouth.

Everyone stared at the man with wide eyes, time seeming to freeze. Michonne took that as her opportunity, she shot the man who was in front of her, Daryl then taking out the men who had been beating him, stomping on one of their heads over and over.

The larger man, who had hold of Carl, sprung to his feet, dragging Carl up with him as he shakily held a knife to his throat. Rick was covered in blood, his curly knots of hair drenched in red. He looked murderous. The prey had become the predator.

The man on top of Sunny was distracted by the scenes unfolding, the girl didn't hesitate to take her chance. Once again, she thrashed against him, he fell to the ground, dropping his knife in the process.

Sunny crawled away, her eyes landing on the knife that had been discarded on the ground. She was quick to reach for it, now kneeling above the man with the knife in her hands.

The mans eyes were wide, his lips trembling with her. He quickly raised his hands, shaking in the cold air. "No.. no! I'm sorry!" He pleaded.

This time around, Sunny didn't even think about what she was about to do. She didn't need to. Her eyes narrowed at the man. She plunged the knife down into his throat, watching blood spray out as he choked.

He was dying, slowly, and painfully. But, Sunny thought that was too easy for him. So, she brought the knife down again, and again. The metal tearing into his skin over and over, blood coating her. She was crying, crying with anger, crying with fear.

The girl who hated killing was gone.

The life behind the man's eyes was gone, but that didn't seem to stop the girl. The knife kept coming down, enough to the point where the man's face was just blood, his features entirely gone.

Sunny raised the knife again, her chest heaving with ragged breaths, fury blinding her. The Claimer beneath her was already lifeless, but the rage didn't stop. She wanted to keep going, make sure he would never, ever be a threat to anyone again. Her hand tightened around the knife, ready to strike one last time.

Suddenly, a strong grip closed around her arm, stopping her mid-swing. Instinctively, she whipped her head around, adrenaline surging through her veins. She didn't register who it was at first. All she saw was someone holding her back, someone trying to stop her, and in her panicked, enraged state, she lashed out, swinging her other arm wildly.

"Sunny!" Daryl's voice cut through her haze as he grabbed her other wrist, blocking the blow. "It's me. It's me, damn it!" His voice was low and steady, though there was urgency in it. He held her firmly but not harshly, trying to pull her out of the storm in her mind.

Her body froze, the knife still gripped tightly in her hand as her wild eyes finally settled on his face. For a moment, she didn't move, still lost in the chaos inside her head. Then, slowly, recognition flickered. It was Daryl. Not another Claimer. Not someone else trying to hurt her. Her breathing remained shallow, but the knife slipped from her grasp, falling to the ground with a soft thud.

"You're okay," Daryl murmured, pulling her closer. "It's over, Sun, you're okay."

She didn't resist as he wrapped his arms around her, but she didn't lean into him either. Her body remained stiff, her mind still reeling from what had just happened. Everything was a blur of violence, and her heart raced like it hadn't caught up with the reality that the danger was over. She wanted to feel safe in his embrace, but it felt foreign.

Daryl held her tighter, whispering reassurances into her hair. "I got you. You're okay now."

Slowly, the tension in her body started to melt, but she still didn't hug him back. Instead, she stood there, letting him hold her, her hands hovering at her sides like she didn't know what to do with them. A part of her wanted to feel comfort in the hug, to cling to him like she used to. But another part, the part that had become colder, harder, wouldn't let her.

A shaky breath escaped her lips, and though she didn't wrap her arms around him, she allowed herself to lean into his chest, just slightly. Not much, but enough to let him know that, even now, a part of her still needed him.

More tears fell, her body trembling against him. She wasn't okay, and she knew that. But Daryl's embrace was the closest thing to safety she had felt in a long time. So for now, she let herself have that, even if just for a moment.

Daryl kept repeating the same thing over and over again into her hair, "I'm sorry." He was sorry that he wasn't there, he was sorry that he didn't look for her, thinking she was dead, he was sorry that she had to kill someone. He was just sorry.

Daryl's grip tightened, his hands still shaking from the adrenaline and fear of almost losing her for good. "I thought you were gone," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion, "I didn't think-" He cut himself off, unable to finish the thought. "I shoulda never stopped lookin'."

He pulled back slightly, just enough to look down at her face, her tear-streaked cheeks and hollow, distant eyes. The innocence she once had seemed to be fading before his very eyes. He hated it,hated what this world had done to her, how it forced her to grow cold.

The guilt was a knot in his chest, twisting tighter with every shake of her small body. He pressed his lips to the side of her head, his grip tightening as if he could somehow shield her from all the pain with just his arms.

In his head, the words kept swirling—my kid. She was his kid. It didn't matter what the blood said; she was his in every way that counted. He would never say it out loud, not like that, but it was there, deep in his heart.

He loved her.

He wasn't the kind to say that either, but right now, it was all he could think about. How much he loved this girl who had fought so hard, who had survived when he thought she couldn't. And how much it killed him to see her like this, broken, hardened by the world that had already taken so much from her.

His hand moved to cradle the back of her head, gently pressing her face into his chest as he whispered again, "I got you, Sun. You ain't alone no more. I swear."

He kissed her head once more, silently vowing that he'd never let her go through this kind of hell again. She was still shaking, still caught in the storm, but he would be her anchor, no matter what it took.

For now, all he could do was hold her, keep her close, and hope she could feel the things he couldn't say.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

This chapter knocked me physically sick to write, I'm sorry. I fucking hate the claimers.