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"𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐈 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐞, 𝐈 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐈 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧."

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.・. .・゜✭・.・✫・゜・. .

The sun was setting, casting a burnt-orange light over the deserted highway as Sunny and Carl walking behind the rest of the group. It had been a day of endless walking, with the kind of cold that sank deep into your bones. They hadn't spoken much, but that was just how it was sometimes, it had felt like forever they had been searching for a home after the farm.

"How much longer d'ya think, Carl?" Sunny asked, her breath fogging up in the chilly air. Her shoulders ached from the weight of her too-big backpack, and her feet were sore, but she kept going, trying to match Carl's pace.

Carl glanced back at her, his lips quirking up into a small smile. "You getting tired already? We can take a break, if you want." He shifted the weight of his own pack, which was nearly as big as hers, and slowed down a bit, falling in step beside her.

"Nah," Sunny replied, stubbornly shaking her head. "Just wondering. You're the one who always says to keep goin', so that's what I'm doin'."

Carl chuckled, and for a second, it was like they weren't trudging through this empty, abandoned world. Just two kids messing around, like normal. "Yeah, but I'm way older, remember? Way tougher. Twelve's practically an adult."

Sunny rolled her eyes at him, though there was a hint of a smile in the corner of her mouth. "You don't look so old to me. You still got baby cheeks."

He made a face at her, pretending to be offended. "Shut up. Maybe you just haven't caught up yet."

She poked him in the arm. "Pffft. I'm catchin' up every day."

They kept walking until they reached a little hill on the side of the road, where a couple of trees grew in a cluster. They climbed up the hill, both of them slightly breathless by the time they reached the top. The sun had almost dipped below the horizon, casting a golden glow over the trees and fields in the distance. In the last traces of daylight, Sunny watched Carl sit down, his back against one of the trees, then pat the spot beside him.

Sunny joined him, dropping her pack and settling down beside him. For a few minutes, neither of them spoke. The air was still, save for a faint rustle of leaves, and for just a moment, everything felt peaceful.

Carl was staring off into the distance, his expression thoughtful, like he was seeing something no one else could. Sunny could always tell when he was thinking hard, his eyebrows knitting together, a tiny crease forming on his forehead.

"What're you thinkin' about?" she asked, tucking her knees up to her chest.

He shrugged, eyes still fixed on the horizon. "Dunno. Just... what if there was a place out there, somewhere? A place where this wasn't happening. Like, where everything was still normal."

Sunny considered that. She liked to imagine things like that too—a world untouched by walkers, where everything still looked the way it used to. "You mean like, there's no walkers? Just people?"

"Yeah," he said quietly. "And nobody's running or hiding or... dying. Just regular people, doing regular stuff. Like, goin' to school, and—"

"Ugh, school," she interrupted, scrunching up her nose. "That's what you miss? You're such a dork, Carl. Only good thing 'bout school was English."

He laughed, a soft, real laugh that made her feel warm, even with the cold biting at her skin. "Fine, not school. But, you know... like, birthday parties or movies. All that stuff."

Sunny nodded, her expression softening. "Yeah... like, I'd wanna see a movie again. My mom 'n dad used to love makin' me watch all the old movies, eatin' popcorn. I'd want popcorn too. With extra butter."

Carl turned to look at her, his eyes sparkling in the dimming light. "We should have one of those someday—a big party, watching movies. We'll make a bunch of popcorn, and I'll save you the biggest seat."

Sunny grinned. "You'd really do that?"

He nodded. "Yep. And you'd have to sit through the whole movie without falling asleep. Deal?"

"Deal," she replied, sticking her hand out. They shook on it, like it was a real promise, one they'd keep no matter what.

For a few more moments, they just sat there, watching the sun disappear behind the hills. Carl reached down and picked up a small rock, tossing it up and catching it, like he always did when he was bored.

"Hey, you think... you think we're gonna be okay, right? Like, really okay?" Sunny asked, her voice barely above a whisper. She didn't ask questions like this often, but tonight felt different.

Carl paused, the rock held tightly in his hand. He looked at her, a seriousness in his expression that felt too old for his face. "Yeah," he said finally, his voice steady. "We're gonna be okay, my dad's sure of it. As long as we stick together."

Sunny nodded, feeling the weight of his words settle inside her. She believed him—she had to. Carl always knew how to make things feel better, even when the world around them was falling apart. Even though her world had been shattered, she was grateful to have found a friend.

.・. .・゜✭・.・✫・゜・. .

The group trudged through the woods in silence, their footsteps muffled by the layers of leaves and mud beneath them. They'd been walking for what felt like hours, keeping well away from the roads where the Saviors patrolled, hunting for any signs of life left in Alexandria. So far, they'd been lucky—no encounters yet—but every creak of a branch or snap of a twig made Sunny tense, her heart pounding as she glanced over her shoulder, gripping Carl's knife even tighter.

She kept her head down, focusing on each step as she fought to hold back the tears that stung her eyes. She couldn't think about what she'd lost, not now. If she did, she'd fall apart. But Carl's absence felt like a wound that wouldn't stop bleeding, a sharp ache that lingered no matter how hard she tried to ignore it.

It didn't seem real. How could it? She knew, logically, that death was always looming over them in this world. But she'd always imagined Carl there beside her, his stubborn resilience and his sharp wit giving them hope even in the darkest of times. Just days ago, she'd pictured him as their leader, guiding them to something better.

But that dream was gone now, torn away just like so many others they'd lost. Carl had been ready to make the world better—he'd grown so much from that boy back at the prison, the one who'd taken life without thinking. He'd become someone kind, someone who believed there was more to fight for than just survival.

And now he was gone, leaving her with only a memory and the letters he'd written before he died. Rick and Michonne had taken a few, clutching them like lifelines, but Sunny had the rest, all in her backpack. One had her name on it. Her hands clenched his knife, her heart twisting as she remembered his voice, his smile.

He had written her a letter. And now, somehow, she had to find the strength to read it. She didn't know when that would be.

Daryl stayed close to Sunny, his quiet presence a silent reassurance. He understood better than most that sometimes, words only weighed you down when you were trying to process the loss. So, he just walked with her, letting her know he was there if she needed him.

They were a large group making their way through the woods, and oddly enough, Dwight was among them. Sunny knew he didn't have much choice—he'd gone against the Saviors, and the only path left for him now was with them. But she couldn't shake her unease; he didn't belong with their group, and part of her didn't want him here.

She'd made her feelings clear in the sewers, lashing out at him when the anger and grief over Carl's death had reached a breaking point. Dwight had just been the easiest target. Rationally, she knew he'd been helping, taking down Saviors alongside them. But that didn't erase what he'd done in the past, and right now, forgiveness felt impossible.

As they pressed on, a walker staggered out from between the trees, its decomposed fingers reaching for them. "I got it," Tara said, moving forward to take it down.

"I'll cover you," Dwight offered, stepping up beside her.

Tara's expression shifted, and in one swift motion, she shoved the walker straight toward him, its snapping teeth barely missing his neck. "Tara!" Rosita snapped.

"What? It got away," Tara replied, her tone careless. Sunny understood her anger—after all, Dwight was responsible for Denise's death, and that was a wound that hadn't healed for any of them. But right now, with Carl gone, Sunny felt like that anger was just... exhausting. Even her hatred for Dwight seemed dull in the face of all she'd lost.

Dwight managed to get control of the walker, wrestling it to the ground before smashing its head repeatedly. 

"See?" Tara said, folding her arms with an air of satisfaction.

Daryl finally spoke up, his tone firm but weary. "Hey. Just keep movin'." With a sigh, Tara nodded and started forward, and the others began to move again too.

Sunny lingered near the back, watching as Siddiq walked a few paces away. She hadn't spoken to him since Carl's death. She knew it wasn't fair, but a part of her resented him. If not for him, maybe none of this would've happened. Maybe they wouldn't have been in those woods fighting off walkers. Maybe Carl wouldn't be dead.

But she knew that wasn't right to think like that, and that blaming him was just another way to avoid her own pain. Still, it hurt too much to look at him. Right now, it hurt to look at anyone.

So she kept her distance, moving in silence with Carl's letter in her pocket, clutching his knife in her hand like a promise to keep going, even if it felt impossible.

.・. .・゜✭・.・✫・゜・. .

They were now headed towards the swamps since that was their best way of getting to Hilltop without running into more Saviors. Although, the swamps had been written off by the group since apparently they were too dangerous. So, that made it just great.

Sunny trailed behind the others, as she'd been doing for most of the journey. She wasn't in the mood to talk, preferring to let her thoughts drift in silence. She looked up briefly and saw Judith, snug in a makeshift carrier on Tobin's back, her tiny hands reaching out at the world around her.

Her mind wandered to a memory with Carl, one of those quiet conversations that stayed with her, especially now.

Carl seemed to sense this. He adjusted Judith in his arms and glanced over at Sunny, offering her a small smile. "You ever think about what Judith's gonna remember?" he asked, his voice low so as not to disturb the quiet around them.

Sunny blinked, pulled from her thoughts. She looked at the baby, her small hands waving in the air, completely unaware of the chaos and death surrounding them. "I dunno," Sunny murmured. "Maybe nothin'. Maybe... she won't have to remember any of it."

Carl nodded, his expression thoughtful. "Yeah, maybe. Sometimes I think that's better, y'know? If she doesn't remember the bad stuff. I want her to have a chance, like we used to."

The realization hit Sunny now, sharper than ever: Judith wouldn't remember Carl. She'd never recall the games he'd played with her, the way he protected her. She'd grow up without ever truly knowing her brother.

The thought hurt, but Sunny made a silent promise to herself then and there. She would tell Judith about him, about all the good he'd done and the dreams he'd had for her. She'd make sure Carl would never be forgotten.

Sunny heard the crunch of footsteps beside her, but she kept her gaze on the ground, expecting Daryl. She was used to him joining her silently, staying close without saying much, giving her space to think. But then, she heard a voice that wasn't his.

"I'm sorry... for your loss," Dwight said quietly, the words hanging uncomfortably in the air.

Sunny tensed, fighting the urge to walk faster and leave him behind. She didn't respond, her fingers clenching a little tighter around Carl's knife. What could he possibly have to say to her?

Dwight seemed to hesitate, then cleared his throat. "Look, I know... I know I'm probably the last person you want to hear this from. You're not wrong to hate me. I did things I can't undo. And I know it's not worth much, but I am sorry for... all of it." He paused, letting his gaze drift forward before continuing, "Especially for... y'know, the fact that Negan's... well, your dad."

At the mention of her father, Sunny's jaw tightened, but she stayed silent, not even sparing him a glance. Her stomach twisted. Just hearing someone else say it out loud—like Negan was some shadow looming over her—made her want to run. She couldn't escape him.

Dwight let out a tired sigh. "Look, if I could go back and fix everything, I would. I don't expect you to believe me or even forgive me. Just... needed you to know that some of us don't want this, either. Some of us didn't have a choice."

Sunny shrugged, still refusing to look at him, hoping he'd get the hint and leave her alone. She felt the heavy ache in her chest growing, the memory of Carl—his smile, his laugh, his fierce loyalty—clashing painfully with the reminder of the man who had been part of all of their suffering.

"I... I see something different in you," Dwight added softly. "You're not like him. And if I have to fight, it'll be to make sure you don't have to be."

Daryl caught sight of Dwight standing too close to Sunny, his brow instantly furrowing. Without a second thought, he strode over, calling out, "Hey—no. Ya don't talk to 'er."

Dwight looked up, his face falling at the sight of Daryl's glare. He held his hands up slightly, giving a small, understanding nod, before stepping back and moving toward the rest of the group, blending into the shadows of the trees.

Daryl's gaze softened as he turned to Sunny, crouching down a bit to meet her at eye level. "You alright? What'd he say to you?"

Sunny shrugged, avoiding his eyes. "Said he's sorry, that's all."

Daryl let out a huff, his jaw clenching briefly. "He's got a lot to be sorry for," he muttered, then sighed, his face softening as he looked at her. "You don't need to worry about him. You just stay close, alright?"

Sunny gave a slight nod, the weight of everything feeling a little lighter with him there. Daryl lingered a moment longer, his hand brushing briefly over her shoulder before he turned to walk with her, keeping himself between her and the rest of the world.

After what felt like an endless trek, the group finally reached the edge of the swamp. Daryl, Rosita, and Siddiq went in first, clearing out the walkers that were bobbing in the murky water, making it safe for the others to follow. Sunny stayed back, seated against a tree with her knees drawn up, her eyes focused on nothing in particular.

She noticed Tara and Dwight slipping away, heading into the trees. A part of her knew what Tara had in mind and suspected she wouldn't see Dwight return. But right now, she didn't have the energy to get up and care; the thought of what Tara was planning barely registered.

It was a while before Tara came back, and as Sunny expected, Dwight wasn't with her. Only, the story she returned with was different from what Sunny had assumed. She hadn't killed him. Apparently, they'd spotted a group of Saviors close by. Dwight had pushed Tara out of sight, then rejoined his old crew, leading them off in the wrong direction—away from where they were all hiding.

The moment Daryl noticed Tara was alone, he stormed toward her, his voice already rising. "I told you to wait!" he yelled, right up in her face. "For all we know, he could be tellin' 'em everything! Negan could be on his way here right now!"

Sunny winced, dropping her head and squeezing her eyes shut. She hated the sound of his anger, hated that Carl had just died and they still had to worry about the saviors, hated that the world kept moving after she had just lost her brother.

"He isn't. He won't," Tara shot back defiantly, holding her ground against Daryl's rage. "He led them away. They were coming right for us, and he saved us."

"She's right. He did. I saw it," Rosita added, glancing over to back up Tara.

Daryl scowled, barely pausing before he marched closer to her. "I don't give a damn what he did," he spat. "He can stick with 'em, he can come back...hell, he can run. When I find that son of a bitch, I'm gonna—"

He stopped cold, his words catching as his eyes landed on Sunny. She sat there, her hands covering her ears, her head low, trying her hardest to disappear. The sight seemed to drain the fury from Daryl's face. He let out a long sigh, his shoulders slumping as he turned away from Tara, letting his voice soften.

"C'mon," he murmured, kneeling next to Sunny and gently placing a hand on her shoulder. "Let's get you away from all this, yeah?"

She glanced up at him, her face pale, her eyes glassy with grief. Without a word, she took his hand as he helped her to her feet, guiding her away from the others to where the trees formed a quieter canopy. Daryl's presence was steady, a quiet reassurance in the chaos around her.

"I know it don't seem like it right now, but...we're gonna get through this," he said quietly, glancing at her. "You got me, alright? I ain't goin' anywhere."

Sunny nodded faintly, feeling a slight bit of warmth through the ache in her chest.

.・. .・゜✭・.・✫・゜・. .

The walk to Hilltop had felt like an eternity. Every step was a heavy reminder of what they had lost, what they'd been through. And yet, despite the exhaustion dragging at her body, Sunny's legs still moved on their own, driven by something she couldn't quite define.

As they approached the gates, the large, wooden planks creaked open slowly, the sound reverberating in the still air, and the sight of Hilltop—finally, a place that could offer a semblance of safety—made her heart drop, but also swell with something close to relief. She knew it wouldn't last long. Nothing ever did.

Daryl was in the front, holding Judith in his arms, his expression tight. Carl's absence was a silent weight hanging between them, a presence neither could escape. As they stepped through the gates, the atmosphere shifted—softer, but still heavy with the tension of what they had left behind.

Carol and Enid emerged from the main building, their faces lighting up in joy as they rushed forward to meet them.

But that joy faded the moment Daryl's steps faltered. As they got closer, the air seemed to thicken. The smile that had graced Carol's face melted away when she saw Daryl's face—blank but tight with pain. Sunny couldn't hear anything anymore.

And then, in that instant, everything went quiet. The world seemed to stop for a second. Sunny was pretty sure Daryl must have revealed what had happened, because everyone's faces filled with grief.

Enid's eyes filled with tears, and she dropped to her knees, sobbing into her hands. Her muffled cries were the only sound that pierced through the thick silence. Maggie appeared behind her, eyes wide in disbelief. She dropped beside Enid, her mouth agape, clearly unable to comprehend what was happening.

But Sunny could barely hear any of them. The emotions running through her were too strong, too sharp to focus on anything but the ache of grief that was growing, spreading through her chest like wildfire.

Carl had been her anchor. Her brother, her protector. And now, he was gone.

Sunny was still frozen in place, the world around her feeling as if it had slowed to a standstill. Her breath hitched in her throat, her chest tight with the weight of her own grief. She wanted to scream, to yell at the world for taking Carl from them, for taking him away from her before she could even properly say how much he meant to her. But her throat was dry, and her eyes were blurry from unshed tears.

Her gaze, however, was then drawn to something else.

A figure standing at the edge of the group—Lincoln.

She hadn't expected him to be there. Not now. Not like this. He stood stiffly, his jaw clenched tight, his fists balled at his sides. And his eyes—those angry, accusing eyes—burned into her with such intensity, it felt like they were searing through her very soul.

Sunny's stomach twisted. Her breath caught, a tremor running through her as the pain of the moment expanded. She wasn't ready for this. She wasn't ready to see him look at her like this, to see again that the grief he felt had already shifted into something darker.

He didn't say anything at first, just watched her. His chest heaved with every angry breath he took, and the way his hands shook told her all she needed to know. The hurt in his gaze was unmistakable, a deep, guttural pain that she hadn't expected. It wasn't just anger—it was blame. He blamed her.

For Carl. For everything. For what had happened.

The look he gave her was enough to silence the noise around her. Even as Daryl comforted Carol, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, even as Judith's confused gaze wandered across the group, all Sunny could see was Lincoln. His gaze like a weight pressing down on her, suffocating her.

"This is all your fault," his stare seemed to say. The accusation hung heavy in the air, a silent scream.

She felt a lump form in her throat, but she couldn't tear her eyes away. There was something in that look—a mix of sorrow and anger—that made her feel like she was drowning. She felt so small under his glare, so helpless, as if she was the reason for everything that had happened, even though she knew it wasn't true. She didn't want to believe it, but the pain in his eyes—so raw and unfiltered—spoke a truth she didn't want to hear.

The last time their eyes had met like this, he had tried to kill her. Her best friend had raised his gun and released the trigger. And that anger hadn't gone away, but worsened.

She wanted to go to him, to explain. But what could she say? How could she even begin to make him understand?

No, she hadn't wanted this. None of them had wanted this.

But in that moment, Sunny couldn't bring herself to even look away from Lincoln. Maybe he had a right to blame her, to hold her accountable for what had happened. Because in some ways, she blamed herself too.

As the others began to gather around, the sorrow of their losses wrapping them all together, Sunny's heart continued to break. The grief was an unrelenting tide, one that pulled her under again and again, leaving her gasping for air.

But it wasn't just Carl they were mourning.

It was everything that had been lost. Everything that would never be the same. And Sunny, standing there in the quiet of the Hilltop, could only wonder if they'd ever find their way back from this.

.・. .・゜✭・.・✫・゜・. .

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞

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Apologies, not a very exciting chapter D: 

BUT SUNNY AND LINCOLN REUNION?!?!?