⋆𝟷𝟷𝟿|ʟɪɴᴇs ᴄʀᴏssᴇᴅ

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

"𝐍𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐬𝐨 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞, 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐨 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭."

·········

.・. .・゜✭・.・✫・゜・. .


Sunny wasn't exactly sure when she decided to lie on the cold ground, staring up at the ceiling. She wasn't even sure how long she'd been in the room for.

Every now and then, she'd lift the picture into the air, staring at it, staring at what used to be, who she used to be. Once, she'd been normal, just a child who saw the good in the world, who had been so, so innocent.

Sunny didn't know who she was now.

A mess? Probably. A killer? Yeah, that too. Traumatized? No doubt about it.

Sunny let out a shaky breath, the whiskey bottle in one hand, the picture in the other. The room felt like it was spinning, the warmth from the drink spreading through her, but it didn't take away the hurt. It just made it feel far away for a little while.

She stared at the picture again — her small, smiling face between her mom and Negan. That girl knew who she was. She was happy. She was loved. Now, Sunny didn't know who she was at all.

Her fingers ran along the edge of the photo. The tears stung her eyes, and she bit her lip, hard, trying to keep them back.

I hate this.

She hated the way her chest hurt all the time, like something was squeezing the air out of her. She hated how the nightmares made her wake up shaking and sweating. She hated how scared she felt, even when nothing was there. But most of all, she hated herself.

Alpha had taken everything. That barn, those screams, those awful pikes on the hill — they wouldn't leave her alone. The fear followed her everywhere, whispering that she'd never be the same again. And maybe she didn't deserve to be.

Her laugh came out broken and bitter. She wiped at her eyes, but her hands were shaking. She took another drink from the bottle, the burning feeling in her throat making her cough. But she didn't stop. She wanted it to burn, to make everything else go away.

Daryl was probably looking for her. He always was. Always worrying, always trying to help. But maybe she didn't want help. Maybe she was too broken now.

The bottle slipped from her fingers, rolling away on the floor. She didn't care. The picture was still on her chest, feeling heavier than it should. She closed her eyes, the tears finally sliding down her cheeks.

Who am I now?

The answer didn't come. All she felt was the darkness creeping in, pulling her down. And somewhere deep inside, she thought she heard her own voice — small, scared, and lost.

The door swung open, and Daryl's footsteps stomped into the room. Sunny sat up, her eyes bleary. When she looked at him, his eyes darted to the empty bottle by her feet. He stared at it, then at her, his jaw clenching so hard it looked like it might crack.

"Thought ya were gettin' blankets," he snapped.

Sunny blinked, her head foggy. She didn't know what to say. She looked at the bottle, then back at him. His eyes swept the room — Negan's room — and his face twisted in anger.

"This where ya end up?" he growled. "His room?"

She flinched, the words cutting into her. She didn't want to be here. It just happened. But Daryl wasn't done. He took a step closer, his hands shaking at his sides.

"Ya don't say nothin' to me. Don't want no help. Fine." His voice got louder. "But this? This is what ya do instead? Just drink?"

Sunny's eyes filled with tears, her throat tight. She wanted to explain, but the words wouldn't come. She stared at the floor, fingers digging into the picture she held.

Daryl's voice cracked. "You think this is gonna help? Lyin' here, wastin' yourself?" He shook his head, anger and disappointment mixing in his eyes. "Damn it, Sunny. This ain't you."

"I don't know who I am anymore," she mumbled, barely above a whisper.

He let out a harsh breath, pacing back and forth. "You're just gonna sit here and give up? After everythin'?" He pointed at the bottle. "You think that's gonna make the pain go away?"

She squeezed her eyes shut, a tear rolling down her cheek. She hated this. Hated who she was now. Hated what Alpha took from her. Hated how weak she felt.

Daryl's voice softened just a little, but there was still heat behind it. "I know you're hurtin'. But this? This ain't the way to fight it."

He paused, waiting for her to say something, anything. But she couldn't.

He rubbed his face, frustrated. "Ya can't keep runnin' from this. Ya can't drink it away." He looked at her again, his eyes tired and sad. "I thought you were stronger than this."

Those words made her chest ache. She used to be. Maybe she wasn't anymore.

Daryl sighed, the anger slipping a bit, replaced by worry. He crouched in front of her, his face close to hers. "Come on. We gotta get outta here. This place ain't good for you."

He held out his hand. For a second, she didn't move. But then, slowly, she took it. His grip was firm, pulling her up to her feet.

As they walked out, she didn't look back. She didn't want to see the room again. Didn't want to feel the shame that sat heavy in her chest.

Daryl didn't say another word. He just held onto her hand, like he wasn't gonna let go. But he was starting to realize she let go long ago.


.・. .・゜✭・.・✫・゜・. .


The storm had passed, but the snow was still heavy, the air icy. Sunny wrapped her jacket around her tighter, staring at the ground. She hadn't spoken to Daryl, he was mad, but probably more disappointed than anything. Sunny knew she had fucked up, but it felt like the only thing to help with the pain.

To make things worse, their only way in reaching Hilltop without freezing to death, was crossing Alpha's border. So, Sunny had been woken up early, her head swirling but she had to ignore it. 

Once again, they were back in the cold, their footsteps leaving marks in the snow. She kept her eyes down, not wanting to see where they were going. But she knew.

The closer they got, the tighter her chest felt. They were heading for the border. Alpha's border. The place where everything had changed.

Her fingers curled around the edges of her jacket, trying to pull it tighter, like it could shield her from the memories.

They started up the hill, the same hill where the pikes had been. Sunny's breath caught. Her feet felt like they were dragging through mud. She didn't want to go up there. She didn't want to see it again.

But she couldn't stop. Everyone was moving forward, so she had to too.

Her heart pounded harder with every step. The snow-covered ground blurred as tears filled her eyes. She could see it in her mind — the pikes lined up, the heads staring blankly, the world shattering around her.

Her breathing got faster, too fast. The hill felt steeper, like it was pulling her down. Her chest squeezed tight, like she couldn't get enough air.

She stumbled.

Her hands shot out to catch herself, but she fell to her knees, the cold seeping through her pants. She gasped, her breaths shallow and quick, like she was drowning in the air.

No. No, she couldn't do this. Not here. Not again.

A hand grabbed her shoulder. Firm. Steady.

She flinched, but it didn't let go.

"Hey." Daryl's voice, rough and low.

She didn't look up. Her whole body shook, panic flooding her veins. She tried to breathe, but the air wouldn't come right.

Daryl's fingers tightened on her shoulder. He wasn't mad now — at least, not in the same way. His voice softened just a little.

"Sunny, breathe. You gotta breathe."

She shook her head, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I — I can't —"

"Yeah, ya can." He knelt beside her, his hand still there, grounding her. "Look at me."

She forced her eyes up, meeting his. The disappointment was still there, but it was mixed with something else. Worry.

"Just follow me," he said. "In... and out."

He took a slow, deep breath, and she tried to copy him. Her breath hitched, but she did it again. And again.

The shaking didn't stop, but it eased a little. The hill wasn't spinning so much anymore.

Daryl didn't say anything for a moment. He just stayed there, his hand still on her shoulder. Finally, he spoke.

"I know it's hard. But ya can't let this place win. You're stronger than that."

Her eyes dropped to the ground again. She didn't feel strong. She felt broken.

He let out a slow breath, like he was holding something back. "We gotta keep movin'. I'm right here, okay?"

She nodded, swallowing hard. Her legs felt like jelly as she stood up, but she did it.

Daryl stayed close, his eyes watching her carefully. He didn't say anything more. He didn't have to. The girl continued walking, keeping her head down, her eyes squeezed shut. She couldn't look, couldn't think of anything that had happened.

It seemed that everyone else was uneasy by the pikes, everyone thinking about what had happened, who they had lost. But Sunny tried and tried not to think about it, but it was impossible. She hadn't stopped thinking about it, not once since it happened.

But she still tried to forget, trying not to let the fear course through her of what crossing the border meant. Surely Alpha wouldn't find out, right? She hoped so, she couldn't lose anyone else.

Finally, they crossed the border, the weight of grief heavy on all of them. Everyone moved with tense shoulders, their eyes darting around, fingers gripping weapons tight, waiting for a Whisperer to appear from the fog.

Up ahead, Ezekiel lifted his hand, signaling them to stop. Sunny squinted, trying to see what he saw. Shapes loomed in the mist — people, or something like them.

Her stomach clenched, and she tightened her grip on her bat. She took a shaky breath, trying to steady herself.

The figures didn't move.

Daryl lifted his bow and fired a bolt. One of the shapes collapsed to the ground with a dull thud.

They stepped forward, cautious, until the shapes came into focus. Walkers. Frozen solid, but their jaws still twitched, trying to snap.

No one hesitated.

Sunny gritted her teeth and raised her bat. The weight of everything — the border, the memories, the fear — pushed her forward.

She swung, watching as the ice shattered and the walker fell to the ground. They were all quick in getting rid of the frozen dead, not wasting a moment. They just needed to get to Hilltop as quick as possible.

The path led them to a frozen lake, a wide sheet of ice stretching out before them. The air was still, and the only sound was the crunch of boots in the snow.

Ezekiel hesitated for just a second, then nodded. "We need to cross. Stay close together."

Sunny swallowed hard and stepped onto the ice. It creaked under their weight, but it held. The cold air bit at her cheeks.

But then, a noise broke the quiet. A low groan.

Walkers.

From under the snow, they started to rise — twisted hands breaking through the white. Their dead eyes stared blankly ahead.

"Move!" Daryl shouted.

Everyone rushed forward, fear taking over. The sound of cracking ice filled the air as boots slid and stomped. Panic spread. For a second, Sunny thought it might be the Whisperers. That they were back.

But no — just walkers.

She gripped her bat and turned to face them. Her breath came in short gasps. They came closer, their arms reaching out.

She didn't think. She just swung. Hard.

The bat hit one walker, its head snapping back. She swung again and again, her arms aching. The cold air burned in her lungs.

Tears rolled down her cheeks as she swung. When had she started crying? She wasn't sure. 

The walkers kept coming, but she didn't stop. Her vision blurred. Her hands hurt. But she couldn't stop. She was angry — at the walkers, at Alpha, at herself. All the pain poured out with each swing.

"Sunny!" Daryl's voice cut through her haze. "Come on!"

She blinked, her tears freezing on her face. She turned and ran. The ice groaned beneath her feet, but she didn't look down.

She made it to the other side. Hands grabbed her, pulled her up onto solid ground. She bent over, gasping for air. Her body shook.

Behind her, the walkers were still on the ice, some sinking through cracks. The danger was behind them now.

But Sunny didn't feel safe. Not really.

"You're alright," Daryl murmured to her, helping her up from the ground.

But was she alright? Would she ever be alright? She didn't think so.


.・. .・゜✭・.・✫・゜・. .


They'd managed to get to Hilltop without any causalities thankfully, but they weren't staying. Well, Daryl, Lydia and Sunny weren't and the rest of the people from Alexandria. One night of rest then they headed to Alexandria, well, Sunny didn't get any rest of course.

The blizzard had calmed. The snow still crunched underfoot, and the air was cold, but it no longer felt like knives on their skin. The sky was clearer now, and in the distance, the walls of Alexandria came into view in the distance. They were almost home.

Sunny's eyes were heavy, her steps dragging, but she kept going. Daryl was just a few feet away, walking ahead with his usual steady pace. Then, slowly, he fell into step beside her.

She didn't look at him. She knew what was coming.

For a moment, all she could hear was the wind and their boots on the snow. Then, Daryl's voice broke the silence. "Ya think we ain't gonna talk about what happened?" His tone was low, but she could hear the edge in it.

Sunny kept her eyes on the ground, her hands shoved deep in her jacket pockets.

Daryl didn't stop. "You think drinkin' is gonna help? Huh? You think that's the answer?"

She flinched but stayed quiet.

He sighed, frustrated. "You don't say shit to me. Don't let me help. Hell, you ain't even spoke 'bout the shit you saw. But what? Ya wanna get shitfaced in his room?"

His words hit like a punch. She bit her lip hard, trying to stop the burning in her eyes.

Daryl's voice softened, just a little. "I get it, alright? You're hurtin'. But that don't mean you get to hurt yourself more."

Sunny's jaw clenched. She hated this — hated the way he was right. Hated that he cared enough to be mad. Her voice felt stuck, like it didn't want to come out.

Daryl shook his head. "You ain't gonna talk, fine. But you listen. I ain't gonna watch you go down that path. You ain't alone, Sunny. You never were."

She blinked, her eyes wet, but still, she didn't look at him. Her fingers curled tighter in her pockets. Why had she forced herself into her own mental cage? One that she couldn't escape. She wasn't sure, but she knew it was hurting him just as much as it was hurting her.

She hated it, hated everything. But it felt as if everything she did, didn't seem to help. She just didn't see a point in anything anymore. Sunny knew she was supposed to die that day, yet, there she was. Still breathing, but god, she wished she wasn't.

After a moment, Daryl sighed again and looked straight ahead. "We'll figure it out. Just... no more of that shit."

The walls of Alexandria were getting closer. She could almost see the gate now.

Sunny took a deep breath. The cold air stung her lungs. "Okay," she whispered, her voice barely there.

It wasn't much. But it was something.

Daryl nodded. "Good."

They walked on, side by side, the silence a little less heavy now. The cold still bit at their skin, and the pain was still there. But they were almost home. And maybe, just maybe, they could start to heal.

That's what Sunny hoped anyway, but she wasn't exactly sure if she would ever heal from what she saw that day. But, hope was the only thing she had left.

Finally, they reached the gates and as soon as they opened upon their arrival, Judith was sprinting forward, embracing Michonne. 

Judith wrapped her arms tightly around Michonne, her face buried in her mother's coat. Michonne held her close, her eyes squeezed shut, tears glistening. RJ rushed up next, his little legs carrying him as fast as they could. Michonne dropped to one knee and pulled him into the hug, her smile soft and tired.

For a moment, everything seemed still. The cold, the pain—it all faded away in the warmth of that embrace.

Daryl stood beside Sunny, his breath fogging the air. "Go on," he murmured, giving her a gentle nudge.

But Sunny stayed where she was, her arms wrapped tightly around herself. She watched Judith's face light up with joy, watched Michonne's eyes soften with relief. RJ laughed, his giggles breaking the quiet. It was like a scene from a life she no longer belonged to.

Judith noticed Sunny and waved, her smile wide and bright. "Come on, Sunny!"

Before Sunny could respond, a snowball came flying through the air and hit Judith square in the shoulder. She gasped, her eyes wide in surprise.

RJ giggled louder. "Got you, Jude!"

Judith scooped up a handful of snow, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. "Oh, you are so gonna get it, RJ!" She hurled the snowball back, and RJ squealed, darting behind Michonne.

Daryl chuckled, a rare smile tugging at his lips. He bent down, packed some snow together, and launched it at Judith. She ducked, and the snowball hit the side of the gate, exploding in a puff of white.

"Not fair!" she yelled, laughing.

The snowball fight grew. Michonne joined in, laughing as she tossed snow at RJ and Judith. Even Daryl smirked as he dodged and returned fire. Their laughter echoed through the cold air, a fragile joy breaking through the heaviness.

Sunny watched it all unfold. Her fingers itched to pick up a handful of snow, to join in the game, to feel something other than the ache that clung to her chest. But her feet stayed planted, frozen to the ground.

The laughter felt distant, like she was watching it through a foggy window. The joy on their faces reminded her of what she'd lost, of who she used to be. The girl who would've been the first to start a snowball fight. The girl who laughed easily, who felt safe.

She wasn't that girl anymore.

Her breath hitched, and she turned away, blinking back the sting in her eyes. The snow beneath her boots crunched as she stepped back, away from the laughter, away from the lightness.

Daryl noticed. His smile faded as he watched her retreating figure. He didn't call out, didn't try to stop her. He just sighed, his shoulders dropping a little.

Sunny walked to the edge of the courtyard, her eyes fixed on the snow-covered ground. The sounds of the snowball fight faded behind her, swallowed by the cold wind.

She hugged herself tighter, the weight of her memories pressing down.

Healing felt far away. Maybe impossible.

All she could think about was who was missing, who deserved to join in on the fun. She pictured Henry standing by her side, his face going even pinker next to her, probably blaming it on the cold.

She missed him so much, she missed them all so much. Every single day, every single moment, they were on her mind. And she wasn't sure if she'd ever be able to get past it.


.・. .・゜✭・.・✫・゜・. .

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

I fear I hate this chapter, but my mind has not been working lately lmao.

Bạn đang đọc truyện trên: AzTruyen.Top