⋆𝟶𝟺𝟶|sᴜʀᴠɪᴠᴇ

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

"𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐥𝐲, 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐈𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠."

·········

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.


The soft glow of a bedside lamp filled the room with a warm, golden hue. Sunny nestled under a mountain of blankets, her small body snug between the covers, her eyes wide and expectant. Lucille sat beside her on the edge of the bed, a worn, hardcover book resting in her lap. Her fingers traced the words as she read softly, her voice soothing, like the gentle hum of the wind through the trees.

"...and so the brave little knight ventured deeper into the forest, sword in hand, ready to face the dragon," Lucille read, her voice calm and steady. She glanced over at Sunny, smiling as she noticed the little girl's wide-eyed focus.

Sunny hugged her pillow tighter, completely absorbed in the tale. She loved these moments—just her and her mom, the world outside their cozy little bubble fading into nothingness. It was her favorite time of day.

But, as always, there was another voice that joined in, just as the tension in the story reached its peak.

"And then the knight, being super badass, leapt from his horse and yelled, 'Come at me, dragon! I ain't scared of nothin'!'" Negan's voice boomed from the doorway, dramatically raising his hands as if he were holding an invisible sword.

Lucille looked up, rolling her eyes, but the smile tugging at the corner of her lips betrayed her. "Negan, please. We're trying to have a calm, peaceful bedtime here."

"Calm? Peaceful?" Negan stepped further into the room, grinning that mischievous grin. "Nah, bedtime stories should be epic! Full of adventure! Dragons, sword fights, and knights who kick ass!"

Sunny giggled, her heart lighter than ever, watching her parents' playful back-and-forth. Lucille sighed, though it was filled with affection. She closed the book, resting it on her lap as she turned to Sunny.

"Alright, sweetheart. You want the bedtime story with dragons and battles, or the one where the knight finds peace and rides home to a warm meal?"

Before Sunny could answer, Negan spoke up, raising a hand. "Option one! Definitely option one. No question."

Sunny giggled again, her cheeks rosy with laughter. "I think I want... both."

Lucille chuckled softly, brushing a lock of hair from Sunny's forehead. "Both, huh? That sounds about right."

Negan crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe, his expression softening as he watched them. "Hey, kid. Don't forget—if there's ever a dragon, I'll be there with my sword. I'm pretty sure this dragon would be scared shitless if I showed up."

Sunny looked up at him, her smile growing. "I know, Daddy."

"Good. Now, close your eyes, and dream of dragons you can beat the goddamn shit out of."

Lucille shot him another playful look. "Negan!"

"What? Just encouraging a little self-confidence!" he shrugged.

Sunny smiled wider, feeling her eyes flutter as sleep began to pull her under. Lucille leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. "Goodnight, Sun."

"Goodnight, Mama."

Negan stepped closer, placing a gentle hand on her blanket-covered shoulder. "Sleep tight, Sunbun. No dragons will get past me."

"Night, Daddy."

Sunny's eyelids began to grow heavy, lulled by the warmth and safety she felt cocooned in her parents' love. Negan, for all his bluster, stayed quiet now, leaning against the bedpost with a fond look in his eyes as he watched his daughter drift off.

Just before sleep claimed her, Sunny heard her mother whisper, "Sweet dreams, my love."

The memory faded like a wisp of smoke, and Sunny's eyes snapped open, the train car's cold, suffocating blackness swallowing her whole again. Her chest tightened, and the protective warmth of her parents' love evaporated in the harsh reality of now.

This world was no fairy tale, and her parents weren't here anymore.

Though she was grateful for the people she had met, the family she had found, she so desperately wanted to be back with her mom and dad.



"They seemed nice enough but I was ready to go. We just got here, but, damn, it was time to go. When I told them about DC, a wink and a nod from the head asshole in charge, they pulled their guns and it was right back to our regularly scheduled shit storm." Abraham spoke.


"Before you got in here, you didn't see Tyreese?" Sasha asked.

"No," Michonne responded.

"Good."


Black car with a white cross painted on it, I tried to follow it. I tried," Daryl said.

"But she's alive?" Maggie asked.

"She's alive."


Multiple conversations were held as they all reunited, explaining their journeys from the Prison to Terminus. Sunny was pretty sure she had heard Daryl tell Maggie about what went down with the claimers, mainly since Maggie kept looking at her with a worried expression. In this moment though, Sunny didn't want to talk about it. Maybe once they were safe she would.

They had all been trying to make weapons, they were all pretty much wood that they'd carved to be sharp. When the time came, they'd all attack. It was weird, Sunny would be scared to hurt these people a few weeks back, but now, she couldn't wait. She hoped Gareth was the first to die.

Sunny sat in the dim train car, surrounded by the faint sounds of scraping as everyone else sharpened their makeshift weapons. The atmosphere was heavy, but she was lost in her thoughts. Her journal lay open on her lap, the worn pages familiar under her fingertips. She gently rubbed a small petal from the Cherokee rose Daryl had given her once, back when things weren't so complicated. 

Just as Sunny got lost in that memory, a boy shuffled over, breaking her train of thought. He was about her age, with messy brown hair and a playful grin, his face too full of life for the situation they were in. He was with Abraham, Rosita and Eugene, she had learnt all their names in the time that had passed.

"I'm bored," the boy announced, stopping a few feet in front of her. He glanced around the group, his eyes landing on her journal. "Whatcha writing? A love letter or something?" His smirk was wide, his tone teasing.

Sunny narrowed her eyes, unimpressed. "No," she replied flatly. "Not that it's any of your business."

He plopped down next to her, way too close for her liking, and stretched his legs out like they were best buddies or something. "I'm Lincoln, by the way. Just in case you were wondering who the coolest guy in the room was." He flashed her a goofy grin.

Sunny let out an exaggerated sigh, closing her journal with a snap. "Right. Coolest guy. Got it." She shifted away from him, her fingers still absentmindedly twirling the Cherokee rose petal.

"Chill, it's not like I was gonna read your diary or anything." He grinned wider, his tone teasing. "Probably just full of gushy stuff anyway."

"Do you mind?" she snapped, turning her body away from him.

"Not really," he replied casually, leaning back against the cold metal wall of the car. "We're stuck in here, might as well get to know each other."

Sunny shot him a look. "I already know enough."

Lincoln let out an exaggerated groan. "Come on! I'm bored outta my mind. There's only so many times you can pretend to sharpen a stick before it gets old. And I can't talk to Eugene. He's over there trying to explain some science thing about water filtration, and Abraham told me to sit still or he'll make me."

"Maybe you should listen," she said dryly, wishing he'd take the hint and go away.

"Listen to what? Eugene's brainy stuff? No thanks." Lincoln picked up a nearby rock and tossed it into the air, catching it lazily. "So, you like, into flowers or something?" He gestured toward the rose petal she had tucked back into her journal.

Sunny clenched her jaw. He was annoying, and there was something about him that just rubbed her the wrong way. "I'm into silence."

Lincoln chuckled, clearly unbothered. "Good luck with that around here."

Sunny muttered under her breath, wishing he'd go bother someone else.

Lincoln shifted beside her, clearly not picking up on Sunny's desire to be left alone. His curiosity, mixed with boredom, only made him more persistent.

"Come on, just tell me what you're writing in there!" he pleaded, nudging her with his elbow. "It's not like we got anything else to do in this death trap. You can trust me!"

Sunny rolled her eyes, clutching her journal tighter against her chest. "Why are you so obsessed with this?"

Lincoln grinned mischievously, leaning in closer. "Maybe 'cause it's the most interesting thing happening right now. That, and I'm guessing it's gotta be something juicy if you're keeping it all secretive. What, you writing love notes or something?"

Sunny shot him a cold look, her voice flat. "It's a death note."

Lincoln blinked, momentarily thrown off. "Wait, like—what?"

"Yeah." Sunny's face stayed perfectly serious as she flipped the journal open to a random page, pretending to scan it thoughtfully. "I've already written your name in it."

Lincoln's face dropped, and he swallowed hard, suddenly unsure whether she was messing with him or not. "Wait—what?"

"Congratulations," she added with a mockingly sweet smile. "You're first on the list."

For a second, Lincoln stared at her, his bravado evaporating as his mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. "You're...you're not serious, right?"

Sunny raised an eyebrow. "Try me."

Lincoln backed off slightly, raising his hands defensively. "Okay, okay, I get it! No more asking about the journal. Geez, I was just trying to make conversation!"

"Then find someone else to bother," Sunny said coolly, returning her attention to the journal, leaving Lincoln quietly contemplating his next move.

"Linc, ease up, kid," Rosita said, pulling him away slightly. "You're not making friends here."

Lincoln shrugged, still wearing that ridiculous grin. "Eh, who needs 'em?"

Sunny shot a final glare in his direction, hoping he'd get the message and leave her alone. But something told her he wasn't the type to back down easily. Great.

Suddenly, voices echoed from outside the train car, drawing everyone's attention. Daryl moved swiftly to the door, peering through the narrow slit. "We got four of 'em pricks heading this way," he muttered, his voice low but urgent.

Instantly, the group sprang to their feet, gripping their makeshift weapons with tense determination.

Rick's voice cut through the room, steady and commanding. "You know what to do. Go for their eyes first, then their throats." He stepped closer to the door, bracing himself for what was to come.

"Backs to the walls! Now!" a voice bellowed from outside, but none of them moved. They weren't about to follow orders from anyone who had them locked up like animals.

As they waited, the tension thickened. The sound of footsteps above made them glance up in confusion, before a latch overhead clicked open, allowing a harsh beam of sunlight to filter in.

Before anyone could react, a small metal canister dropped through the opening.

"Move!" Abraham barked, scrambling toward the far side of the car. Sunny followed, her movements quick, but the canister exploded in a deafening bang, smoke billowing out and filling the confined space in seconds.

Coughing erupted all around her as the thick smoke invaded their lungs. Sunny stumbled, her vision growing hazy as the acrid cloud burned her eyes, making it nearly impossible to see. Panic swirled inside her as the world around her began to blur.

She was fucking sick of falling unconscious.


.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.


Sunny stirred, her head pounding as the world slowly came back into focus. She blinked, her eyelids heavy, and the blurry shapes around her began to sharpen. The first thing she felt was the cold floor beneath her cheek, the second was the sound of quiet, tense murmurs filling the air.

"What... the hell happened?" she mumbled, her voice hoarse, as she struggled to sit up, still coughing slightly from the smoke.

Maggie knelt beside her, placing a steady hand on her shoulder. "You were out for a while," she said, her voice soft but filled with a tired urgency. Sunny looked up, meeting Maggie's concerned gaze.

"When they hit us with that smoke bomb... they came in," Maggie continued, her jaw clenched. "Took Daryl, Rick, Bob, and Glenn. Didn't even give us a chance to stop 'em."

Sunny's chest tightened as the realization sank in. "What? Where—where did they take them?" she asked, her voice rising slightly, panic flickering across her face as her eyes darted around the train car.

"We don't know," Maggie admitted, shaking her head. "They didn't say a word, just hauled them off. We couldn't stop them." Her expression was a mixture of frustration and helplessness.

Sunny's fists clenched at her sides. The thought of those four being dragged off, possibly to something worse than what they'd already endured, made her stomach twist. She hated feeling powerless, and right now, they had nothing but uncertainty hanging over them.

"They're gonna be okay, right?" Sunny asked, but it felt more like a plea than a question.

Maggie hesitated, then nodded, her expression firm. "They will. But we have to be ready for whatever comes next."

Gunshots began to ring out, big ginger walked towards the door. "What the hell is going on?" He growled out, his teeth clenched as he banged against the car.

"Someone hit 'em," Michonne replied.

"Maybe our people got free," Sasha said.

Eugene then pushed past Tara and Sasha and began to fiddle with something on the ground. "What the hell are you doing?" Rosita asked.

"I might be able to use this shell to compromise the door," Eugene said, fiddling with the casing in his hands as he inspected it closely. "From the sound of things, there may not be anybody left to open it."

Sunny's frown deepened, her eyes narrowing at his ominous tone. "What the hell are you talkin' about?" she asked sharply, irritation lacing her voice. "They're all gonna be fine."

The weight of her words hung in the air for a moment, the silence in the train car heavy with uncertainty. She didn't know if she was trying to convince Eugene or herself.

Before anyone else could speak, Lincoln, who had been sitting nearby, piped up with a casual shrug. "Nuh uh, they're gonna be dead."

Sunny shot him a glare, her frustration with him spiking. She already didn't like him, and now he was adding fuel to the fire. "Shut up," she snapped, her voice tense.

Lincoln raised his hands defensively, though there was a mischievous glint in his eyes. "What? Just sayin'. These people don't seem like the 'keep prisoners alive' type."

"Hey. My dad's gonna be back, they all are," Carl intervened.

"They are, and we need to get ready to fight our way out with them when they do," Maggie said.

At Maggie's words, everyone snapped back into action. Once again, carving make-shift weapons so they were prepared. Sunny just wished that Daryl was here, he had some sort of super power in making her feel okay, even when nothing was okay.

"Eugene, what's the cure?" Sasha asked, breaking the silence. Sunny had heard through the conversations that the group of four were on some sort of mission to DC. Eugene needed to get there and he would be able to treat the disease. Sunny thought it was a load of bullshit.

"It's classified," Eugene responded, not looking at her.

"We don't know what's gonna happen," Michonne said.

"You leave him be," big ginger intervened. For some reason, the man was very protective over Eugene, it was odd.

"We need to keep working," Maggie added.

"Yeah, but it's time to hear it. 'Cause we don't know what's coming next," Sasha said, still trying to get Eugene to spill.

"Even if I told you all, even if I provided step by step instructions complete with illustrations and a well composed FAQ and I went red ring, the cure would still die with me." Eugene replied.

"I'm not gonna let that happen," big ginger reassured the man.

"You don't owe us anything, not yet. But we wanna hear it," Sasha said, standing up and fixing her gaze on Eugene.

"Good luck with that, smarty pants won't tell y'all shit," Lincoln chimed in with a smirk, lounging against the wall as if he hadn't a care in the world.

"You don't have to tell them," Rosita said softly to Eugene. Sunny couldn't help but feel a little thrown off by how the grown man was being treated like a fragile puppy. She glanced between them, her confusion deepening. Eugene stayed quiet for a moment, shifting awkwardly before finally rising to his feet. He cleared his throat, eyes darting around as if searching for courage.

"I was part of a 10-person team at the Human Genome Project, working to weaponize diseases to fight other weaponized diseases. Pathogenic microorganisms against pathogenic microorganisms. Fire with fire. Interdepartmental drinks were had, relationships formed, information shared. I am keenly aware of all the details behind fail-safe delivery systems to kill every living person on this planet. I believe, with a little tweaking on the terminals in D.C., we can flip the script. Take out every last dead one of them. Fire with fire. All things being equal, it does sound pretty badass."

A ripple of approval seemed to wash through the group. Everyone looked at Eugene with something resembling hope, but Sunny remained unconvinced. Her brows furrowed as she listened carefully, mentally running through the scientific jargon she had learned from her dictionary. To her, it sounded like the man just mashed together a bunch of big words to make himself sound smart.

"So, let's get back to work," Maggie said, bringing the focus back to their escape.

Before anyone could even pick up where they left off, the door suddenly slid open, flooding the dim train car with blinding sunlight. Sunny squinted against the brightness, and her heart raced as she caught sight of the chaos outside—walkers, fire, gunfire everywhere.

Rick stood in the open doorway, drenched in sweat and clutching a gun. His voice was urgent, commanding. "Come on! Fight to the fence!" he shouted, offering no time for questions or explanations.

"Go! Go! Go!" someone else yelled.

The group scrambled out of the train car, adrenaline taking over as they bolted into the fray. Daryl stood at the opening, his eyes scanning for Sunny. Once he spotted her, he reached out, making sure she got down safely. He gave her a small nod before pressing a gun into her hand. Without hesitation, they all took off running.

Chaos erupted around them as the large group sprinted through the ruined community. Walkers staggered from every direction, their growls mixing with the crackle of fire and the deafening echoes of gunfire. Buildings burned fiercely, sending plumes of black smoke billowing into the sky, and the smell of burning flesh clung to the air.

Sunny's heart pounded in her chest as she pushed herself to keep up with the others. Rick led the way, his gun blazing as he shot down the closest walkers that dared to approach. Everyone ran as fast as they could, trying to dodge the chaos.

Ahead, the fence came into view, towering over them and covered with sharp coils of barbed wire. Rosita, moving swiftly, spotted it first. "The fence! Come on, almost there!" she shouted, already reaching for a tattered blanket from her pack.

As they reached the fence, Rosita flung the blanket over the barbed wire. "Up and over!" she yelled, urging everyone forward. Without wasting a second, they began to scramble up.

Abraham hoisted Eugene up first, practically tossing him over the fence. Maggie was next, her legs scrambling as she climbed. Sunny followed close behind, her fingers clutching the cold metal as she pulled herself up. Walkers reached for them from below, snarling, but the blanket protected them from the barbed wire as they moved.

"Keep going!" Rosita yelled again, her voice barely heard over the chaos.

Sunny's hands slipped a little, but Daryl was quick to help her, giving her a push until she made it over the top. She dropped down to the other side, landing with a grunt. One by one, they all managed to make it, the fence rattling under the pressure as they jumped to safety.

Just as the last of the group made it over, more walkers swarmed the fence, clawing at it violently, but they were finally free of the immediate danger—at least for the moment.


.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.


The group moved silently through the woods, the air still thick with tension. It felt strange—just a few days ago, they were five, but now their number had swelled to fourteen. Sunny glanced at the others; it was odd how quickly things changed.

Rick led them, stopping at a small patch of disturbed earth and crouching down. He began to dig at the spot where they had buried the guns.

"The hell are we still around here for?" Abraham's booming voice broke the silence, his frustration clear.

"Guns, some supplies," Rick replied, not looking up as he worked. "Go along the fence. Use the rifles. Take out the rest of 'em."

"What?" Glenn asked, his voice thick with confusion. Sunny felt the same—after everything they'd been through to escape that nightmare, why would they go back? The place was crawling with walkers, and those people were most likely dead already.

"They don't get to live," Rick said flatly, turning his head to meet Glenn's eyes.

"Rick, we got out. It's over," Glenn pressed, hoping to snap Rick out of his bloodlust.

"It's not over till they're all dead," Rick insisted, his voice unwavering.

Rosita stepped forward, her face set in disbelief. "The hell it isn't. That place is on fire, full of walkers." Sunny couldn't help but admire her calm confidence. She wanted to be just like her when she grew up.

"This dude has a damn death wish," Lincoln muttered, crossing his arms with a dramatic sigh.

"Kid's right," big ginger grumbled in agreement. "I'm not dicking around with this crap. We just made it out."

Sunny stayed quiet, her gaze fixed on Rick. The intensity in his eyes was unmistakable—he wasn't going to back down, no matter what. The rest of the group stood still, waiting for his call, but Sunny couldn't shake the question: was this really necessary? After everything, couldn't they just walk away?

Before anyone could speak, the sharp crack of a twig snapping behind them caused everyone to spin around, weapons raised. A figure emerged from the shadows, covered in dirt, a worn poncho hanging over her frame. It was Carol.

She was loaded down with gear—guns slung across her shoulders, Daryl's crossbow secured to her back, and in her hand, Sunny's bat. Without a word, Daryl rushed forward, pulling Carol into a tight embrace. The rest of the group quickly followed, relief and smiles spreading across their faces.

Sunny blinked in disbelief. She hadn't seen Carol since before the prison fell, and now here she was, like a ghost from the past. But it was clear—Carol had played a huge part in saving them.

Carol's eyes met Sunny's, and without saying anything, she handed her the bat. Sunny smiled, gripping the familiar weapon. It felt good to have it back in her hands. They had all found one another.

Rick walked up to the woman, an expression on his face that Sunny couldn't quite decipher. "Did you do that?" He asked her, she nodded, her face full of emotion as he pulled her into a hug.

When they pulled away, Carol placed her hand on the mans shoulder. "You have to come with me."

The group trudged up the hill, weary but curious as Carol led the way, eager to show them something. As they reached the top, they were greeted by the sight of a small wooden cabin nestled among the trees. The door creaked open, and Tyreese stepped out, cradling something in his arms. Sunny squinted, her breath catching when she realized—it was Judith.

Before anyone could react, Rick, Carl, and Sasha sprinted forward, unable to contain their emotions. Rick and Carl practically collapsed into Tyreese, clutching Judith as if they might lose her again. Carl sobbed softly, his arms wrapped around his baby sister, while Rick held them both close, overwhelmed with relief.

The rest of the group watched with smiles, the weight of their ordeal momentarily forgotten in the warmth of this reunion. But Sunny stood a few steps back, gripping her bat tightly, her smile faltering. Her heart ached watching the scene unfold. It was selfish—she knew that—but she couldn't help it. A hollow feeling twisted inside her chest.

No matter how hard she tried to suppress it, she wished it had been her in Rick's place, finding her own dad. Negan. She longed for that moment, for her dad to step out of the shadows and hold her like Rick was holding Judith. Instead, she was left to watch everyone else reunite, the happiness around her only magnifying her own loneliness.

Sunny took a breath, forcing a small smile as the others celebrated.

Daryl stood off to the side, his eyes scanning the joyful scene, but they quickly landed on Sunny. He noticed the flicker of pain in her expression, how her smile didn't quite reach her eyes. His heart sank; he knew all too well that look of longing.

Without a moment's hesitation, Daryl stepped toward her. He reached out, pulling her into his side and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. It was a simple gesture, but it spoke volumes—an unspoken promise that she wasn't alone.

"Hey," he murmured softly, his voice low but steady. "You alright?"

Sunny leaned into him, finding solace in his presence. She didn't have to answer; the warmth of his embrace was enough. In that moment, surrounded by the reunion, she felt a flicker of comfort. 

Daryl might not be her dad, but he was there, and somehow, that made everything feel a little less heavy.


.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

SEASON 5 !! BOOYAH !!

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