THE move up to Alexandria from the Hilltop was harder than I ever imagined it would be.

I came back with the mission of being apart of this new community and Rick's immediate group of misfits. Apparently, he was given the mission of going in and killing Negan – and the rest of the Saviors, for that matter. I couldn't believe it, but I wasn't about to question it, either. I had to change immediately or Negan would recognize me.

As soon as we entered the gates of Alexandria, Rick was there first to talk to me. "You'll need a place to stay while you're here," he instructed as I took a moment to gaze around this huge place. It's poetically beautiful in a world of mayhem. "I'll ask around for anyone looking for a roommate. In the meantime, however, I want you staying with Daryl at his place. He won't mind because I've already talked to him." Rick pointed at a white house only two houses from us now. "That's his place, if you want to go ahead and get comfortable in there. I'll introduce you to everyone else later."

I squinted my eyes together and leaned in a little. "Daryl?"

Rick cracked a grin and took a moment to point over at Daryl, who was talking to a few people that I didn't recognize from before. "Yeah, the redneck," Rick tried reminding me. I knew who he was, just was in shock, that's all. Nevertheless, Rick patted me on the back gently and said, "Don't worry. You'll fit in just fine here. Right now, I have to go talk to the rest of the community here. We're gearing up for war and, although not everybody at the Hilltop agree, I still really hope that you join us in this."

I gulped, but managed to nod, too, looking up at Rick for a second. Then, he whispered to me, "Think about it. Okay?" With that said, I nodded again and watched as he floated away, heading towards the church within these fences.

The rest of his community followed after him while I was seemingly left all alone. I took my things and began to walk over to Daryl's house, struggling because of my latest injury to my lower back. The streets were really empty now and the place looked almost abandoned now.

It's depressing, really. I thought that I would be happy being away from the Hilltop, but I didn't just realize how much I would miss my brother. This was going to be my home away from home for now on, I guess.

Going up the stairs, I used the railing to help myself up and was now on the long porch. It was so big and amazing. I placed my hand around the knob and tried to open it, but not to any avail. It's locked. Damn.

I sighed and placed my things beside the door and my head falls backwards as I stomped my feet like a spoiled child. This is so not my day. Or week, for that matter. I need to get in and lay down somewhere. I'll just go to sleep when I get inside. If I do, that is.

"Really, Daryl?" I mumbled to myself, rolling my eyes. I'm almost a hundred and ten percent sure that I am so over this place as a whole already.

I'm pretty sure it's only because Daryl is a very secure person, who wants all his things under lock-and-key. I understand. I get it. Yet, after the day I've had, I could really be inside of that house right now... Asleep.

Nevertheless, I bent down and look under the mat. No key there. Damn, I mentally cursed the situation in my head. I stood back up and took a moment to think about it. If he had a spare, where would he put it? C'mon, Tess, I thought to myself, holding my chin in deep thought. Before the world ended... Where did people put their spares?

I glanced up at the porch light as it had a roof to it. That's it! It has to be! I reached up and felt for something in key-form and that's where I found it. I held the small key in between my fingers and grinned evilly down at it. "Thanks, Dixon."

I put the key in the hole and turned, then the door was now unlocked. In a flash, I put the key back where I found it and grabbed my things, practically running inside like Walkers were right behind me.

Heh, Walkers...

Once inside, however, I had to take in the sight of the white-themed household. Everything was so in place, except for the two pairs of shoes by the door that had dirt surrounding them. Other than that, really, everything was simply in place. I didn't expect that from a dirty-looking guy.

Then, I took another look around the place and realized... This living room was bigger than mine and Paul's trailer back at home. Wow.

I laid my bags on the kitchen's table before walking further into the kitchen, seeing the dishes not completely washed yet. I suddenly felt bad, seeing how Daryl defended me back at Hilltop out of nowhere from Kal's wrath.

He was a hero. My hero.

I struggled to get over to the sink, to the dirty dishes. Slowly, I began to turn on the water and it came on. It was breathtaking. Steamingly hot to the touch. Little things like this make me happy. I got the water to be warm and began to scrub the dishes, washing the dishes for him.

It took me maybe ten minutes to wash up all his dishes. Then, I walked over to his refrigerator to see what he had inside. So much food for one man to have for himself. I seen canned foods in the cabinets and everything.

After all the searching, I finally laid out ground beef, onion, mozzarella, sause, parmesan cheeses, and lasagna noodles. I was going to make him dinner. Everybody, if I could. Yet, I'm sure nobody is actually up for a nice dinner tonight after today's actions. Nevertheless, Mr. Daryl Dixon was going to eat good tonight. He saved me today, as far as I'm concerned. So did Glenn and Abe, too.

I had heroes here in Alexandria to look after me when Paul couldn't...

—

ABOUT an hour later, and it's already nearing the end of this stressful day. The sun was slowly taking its toll to go down and surrender to the peaceful night's sky.

The lasagna had been sitting in the oven for some time now and I hadn't went to sleep yet, either. I was going to wait, of course. I only kept the lasagna in the oven to keep it warm for Daryl's arrival.

Just as I was reading an old magazine from the early two-thousand's, I heard loud footsteps heading up the stairs of the porch. Then, only seconds later, a key through the hole of the knob and the door was now open. It was already unlocked, but he didn't seem to know that, though. He's probably used to a routine by now.

He came trampling in, not even noticing me whatsoever yet. He kicked off his shoes and nearly fell back when doing so, grunting with each action he took. I still had the magazine in my hand and my eyes directly on him, watching as he spun around and found me sitting there at the kitchen table.

"What the...?" he breathed out before he could curse.

I blinked a couple of times and gaped my mouth open. "Hello," I squeaked out, gulping afterwards. "You're home. Finally."

"Yeah," he mumbled, nodding. He shuffled into the kitchen, staring to sniff. "What's that smell? Already burnt the place down?"

"No," I growled out, standing up by the kitchen table. I was already in my "comfortable wear" of a long-sleeved red sweater and black sweatpants. I was ready for the night, including my white socks that slid onto the smooth floors. "I made food."

"You made food?" He had said this louder and much more clearer than his recent grunts that he calls a voice. He was in a state of disbelief, staring me down with his bright blue eyes through his long hair.

I nodded and insisted, "I did. It was my way of saying thank you for today. I would've made more, but this is your house and your food. So, I made enough for you to eat for the next couple of days – if you want."

He didn't say anything for the next minute as he stared at me. Then, he lowered his body a bit to peek in the lit oven. "What is it?"

"Lasagna," I answered, still watching him. "Want me to make you a plate while you go get comfortable in the living room?"

He stood up straight again and nodded. "Yeah, thanks," he replied, which sort of made me feel as warm as the lasgana. I don't know why, but it definitely put a pep in my step suddenly.

I made him a huge plate and quickly delivered it to him, along with a big glass of iced water. I didn't know if that was good enough or not, but maybe he deserved it. He seemed to be the very stubborn type, so he probably didn't believe in himself as much as he let on.

He was sitting on the little couch in the living room with a small coffee table in front of it. I laid the plate in front of him, as well as the glass of cold water, too. It took him a minute to realize that I didn't have a plate like him, apparently.

"Where's yours at?" he grunted, eyeing me through his long hair. He hadn't even touched his food yet before he started to ask questions, apparently.

I crooked my head a bit to the side and softly said, "That's your food, Daryl. Enjoy it. I have my own that I took from the Hilltop."

He looked like he had rolled his eyes, but, in all honesty, I couldn't really tell. His hair was way too long to see through. He lifted his plate up and sat it on his lap, now laying back on the couch. He had his fork up, but didn't start munching on it just yet.

He nodded his head towards the kitchen and demanded, "Go get you some food and stop trying to make me hog it all." I didn't know how to take that, to be honest, but the message was clear as day. He wanted me to go get some food, too, even though, I had argued with him earlier.

Nevertheless, and against my own demands and wishes, I mumbled out, "Yes, sir," before getting back up and made my own plate of lasagna. Also, I made myself an ice-cold glass of water, too, just like Daryl.

So, sitting together next to one another on the couch, we sat and ate together. Afterwards, we talked and, at one point, I started to laugh. He eyed me suspiciously and I resulted my laughter into a grin.

By the end of the night, I had learned quite a bit about Daryl Dixon. He once had an older brother named Merle, who died a few years previously, due to being murdered by somebody they called The Governor. Due to the murder, Merle turned and came back as a Walker. Daryl had to end it.

In exchange, I told him all that I could about myself in little to no time at all to say the least. Other than the information about his brother, I don't know much else about him and that's okay. The only reason that it was okay is because I knew the most important thing about him... He was a closed book that couldn't ever be permanently opened. And, alas... He protected his own and I admired that the most about him.