Same environment, same trees, same rails. Describing what you felt seems almost impossible. You were safe. After a long time, you were finally safe. You had no reason to be wary except for the walkers that occasionally came out of the forest. You had no reason to hide weapons, you had no reason to be afraid or to open your mouth. You were not afraid to be yourself. Rick had accepted me and you were relieved. But Daryl put a lot of paranoia in your head after your last conversation on the roof. But fortunately he was wrong... Michonne didn't seem to like my company very much. To be honest, you didn't get along that well, but you needed to get used to it. Carl moved closer to you, but he controlled every gesture of his father. You would have walked for miles without stopping, happy to have found them. But wouldn't have gone to Daryl to tell him the words: "I told you.", because the most important thing was that you were together. You had taken this notebook with you before leaving the street. You would have done everything not to lose this object.

"Do you want some?", Carl suddenly asked you and you looked down to see what he was offering you. A chocolate bar.

"You're still asking?", you smiled, grabbing it and Carl smiled at you.

"Half-half?", you added. As if you had said some obscenity, Carl backed away and turned his head away.

"I have enough, trust me, I still have a pound of pudding in my stomach."

Unfortunately you had to surrender to the hunting, the squirrels and the birds that came within reach. Carl realized that you had been jealous for a thousandth of a second. After all, Michonne had a bag full of snacks and various delicacies. They had surely robbed a house, maybe those little houses you had seen with Joe's group.

"We were lucky with the food...", he confessed.

"Did you find it immediately?", you asked, looking at Michonne. You saw something in the boy's eyes, almost like gratitude. It was clear he had a good relationship with this woman.

"Kinda...", he answered and smiled. "Were you alone when we were separated?"

You looked at him for a moment before answering: "I was alone for a short time, then I always had someone with me.", you said calmly. "I met a good man and I enjoyed that short time. Although I was always worried about you all."

Carl looked at you with his eyes, like his father. He was no child anymore.

"This man... Is he now...?", he has formulated. He rightly felt uncomfortable, he did not know how to ask you questions or what words to use so as not to hurt you.

"This group... They found us and they killed him right in front of me.", you continued: "Then... Well, you know the rest."

There was a minute's silence, nor did you dare to add anything.

"The important thing is that we have found each other now...", he said: "And probably there will be others at Terminus."

You slapped him on the shoulder and simulated a fist. Just to create a good atmosphere.

"We will surely find this place.", you said.

You giggled and confined yourselves so as not to let others hear you. It was liberating. But Daryl glared at you, in fact you laughed even more. Michonne turned around and smiled too. You had never seen her laugh before, it was strange... For the first time she had shown you these perfect white teeth and you returned that gesture. You knew that Carl's laugh could melt his father's heart. Anyway, you were together again and returned to the routine of that time. Terminus seemed unattainable. But if you looked at the map, maybe just one more day was missing. You hoped with every fiber of your body, or rather, you prayed, even though weren't a believer, that this wasn't a trap. The group deserved a truce, a moment of unification. There was no room for another threat. After a few hours you reached another formerly inhabited area. A small residential area. You made an exploration of the place and Rick pointed to a house that he thought was the most stable and secure. On the roof were solar panels, this meant the presence of hot water. It had a high lattice along the perimeter to demarcate the garden that sheltered it. The walkers couldn't reach you for the time being. You went in through a back door and you parted to explore the house that you would occupy for the night. Upstairs Daryl and you left while Rick and Carl stayed downstairs. Michonne took care of the basement. You slowly climbed the stairs and held your weapons ready to shoot. You were standing in front of a long corridor decorated with many doors. You moved to the left, pressed the door handle, laid your hand on that dark, certainly valuable wood, and led the door in that slow motion to inspect the interior with ease. No walkers... But comics, posters, consoles, everything was scattered without any logical order. You did the same with the other rooms. It had to be a big family because there were many bedrooms. All drawers were open and some clothes lay on the floor. The family in question had tried to escape... In fact, there was no car in the garage. After the inspection, you gathered down in front of the entrance. None of you had met a walker. You were lucky. Lately things have gone well. You had hoped that this wouldn't leave soon.

Rick suddenly pointed to the kitchen chamber: "There are some supplies.", he said: "Some things have expired and some things have not."

"I've found many shelves full of other foods, all canned. We could survive for months.", Michonne added.

Rick put his arms on his sides, looked around and smiled. "It went well.", he said, placing a hand on his son's head and ruffling his hair.

"It'll be dark in a few hours.", Daryl explained. "I would say we're gettin' ready for the night."

So you all went upstairs and looked at the house with different eyes. Not suspicious or worried, but as if you wanted to admire it. You pointed to the first room you checked and told Carl to go inside.

"You'll like it.", you whispered and winked. He went into the room, curious to find what he had hoped for.

You meanwhile went to a random room. It was spacious and very bright. You opened a drawer and hoped to find clean clothes. The pants weren't your size, but some tank tops would have been enough. The house had three bathrooms, which means you didn't need to fight for a shower. After walking through the other rooms, you might have found pants of your size. You threw yourself on this soft mattress shortly thereafter. A large chandelier hung on the ceiling. What a luxury. Tonight you would all have slept in a bed, in a real bed. Everyone in his room, each with his own privacy. These are details that count, even when it makes no sense anymore. But the door suddenly opened and you sat up. Daryl came in without saying anything and went to the window. He pulled the curtains aside and looked out, as if searching for something. Then he spoke as if he had read your mind.

"I go 'round to see which room 's more view.", he explained. You lay down again and sank into the pillow.

"You have to sleep.", you answered.

Rick appeared in the room and after looking at the fittings, he too opened his mouth.

"I'd rather sleep on the couch tonight.", he announced. "If someone else comes in, I'll wake up right away."

"Only for this night?", you repeated.

"I thought we could stay here for two days because of safety, the way to Terminus requires more effort than it actually needs.", he explained, massaging his beard.

"Another day makes no difference.", the archer added dryly. You just nodded. Another day to rest would have helped your destroyed bodies. It wouldn't have been a problem. In fact, you understood the sheriff's idea very well. Two days, the right to enjoy the tranquility of this place. You definitely didn't mind. The sound of water made you understand that Michonne was already in the shower. This immediately gave you the need for a nice warm bath. You wanted to get rid of the dirt, the fatigue, the dust, the earth. But above all, these memories. These scenes...

As Rick left you sat on the edge of the bed and looked at your face in the wall mirror. Daryl appeared in the reflection and stood beside you. You looked away from that glassy surface and laid it on the archer, who reached out a hand. A wild strawberry.

"Found another one on the way.", he said abruptly and you took her and touched his fingers.

"Is that your way of apologizing?", you asked before enjoying this sweet fruit. He snorted and left without answering, pulling his crossbow behind him.

You then took a top, went to the bathroom next to your room and let the water run until it became lukewarm. In the meantime, as you waited for the tub to fill, you undressed. You looked at yourself in the mirror, noticing a shadow of the old bruises left by the Governor. Your wrists healed, only thin lines remained. Then you dipped into this transparent liquid, held your breath and sat down completely. It was a good feeling to be underwater, it was like being transported to another world, to another dimension. Resurfacing, you stayed in that position for at least ten minutes. Immobile, without thinking. This normal action, though rare for those times, reminded you of the past. Home, family... These were details like these, details of a lost life that could plunge you into the deepest depression. You don't know how much time you spent in this bathroom, but apparently so long to worry others. Someone knocked on the door when you were already wrapped in a big towel.

"Is everything alright?", Michonne asked.

"Yes.", you reassured her: "I'll come to you all soon."

You put on new clothes quickly and went on your way. When you went to the living room, you found everyone gathered around a table. They sat on the sofa and armchairs and were busy devouring some of their food.

"Don't you mind eating just this stuff?", you asked Rick, laughing. He raised his head and laughed at himself. "If you want I can try to cook something!"

Michonne immediately put her can on the table. "Y/N is right.", she said: "Let's take a look at the things in the kitchen."

You followed her and examined the various possible ingredients. You found a pack of dried pasta, some spaghetti, and Michonne smiled at you and waved a bottle of tomato paste. Carl leaned on the back of the sofa.

"Pasta!", he cheered.

Daryl spoke without looking at you and then chewed on.

"Maybe there ain't no gasoline for a car.", he said sullenly.

Carl lowered his head in disappointment. In fact, you all acted that way, including Rick and you. But Michonne laughed and tapped her fingers on the kitchen counter.

"Don't be so grumpy!", she shouted: "In the basement is gasoline, we just need a car..."

You rejoiced in unison, all except Daryl, who apparently didn't care. You didn't ask him why, you would rather ignore it.

~

The fireplace irradiated the room and dispelled the darkness of the night. Since you didn't find many candles, you decided to arrange them logically. The room would have been lit by the fire you had lit by using some boxes and old newspapers in the garage. One candle was in the kitchen and two in the hallway above. The last candles you would have in the bathrooms and bedrooms. Meanwhile, you were stretched out on the luxurious leather sofas, happy with a full stomach. You started talking as if you were lifelong friends, ready to remember old times. After a while, however, the silence had enveloped you and accompanied you into a state of rest. More words would have been superfluous. You enjoyed this peace, this source of warmth, company and a safe place. Usually, this calm brought only bad memories to the surface and made you forget almost all the good old moments. You focused on preserving the moment, hoping that you could still feel the emotions in the future. Suddenly you realized that it was time to lie down in your beds, so you reached our rooms. You put the wax candle on the table beside the bed so that it brightened the room, but not too much. Next to the bed, you saw a book, an object you had missed at first sight. You took it without even reading the title on the cover and threw yourself on the bed that you longed for so much. You quickly flipped through the pages and brought them closer to your face so you could smell them. It was like jumping into the past. You held the paper product firmly on your chest and had no intention of reading, though it was a habit you had overlooked. You felt different emotions, you were literally euphoric. And you knew you couldn't sleep but it didn't matter. Nevertheless, you would have rested on this comfortable bed and surrounded yourself with the darkness from outside, which seemed so comforting to you now. You watched the fragile flame of the candle, which swung from time to time. The wax was consumed slowly and turned away from the contact of this heat. An hour had passed and sleep hadn't caught up with you yet. So you took the candle and looked at the corridor. No light flooded Carl's door, so he was already asleep. The same goes for Michonne. Instead, Daryl's was wide open. As soon as you were around the corner, you met someone and fell to the ground as you collided with the person.

"Watch where ya' go.", Daryl said, helping you up. You saw that he went into the living room and followed him curiously. When the fire allowed you to see it completely, you noticed that he held glass bottles in his hand and shook your head in disbelief. At that moment, the archer turned and noticed your gesture.

"What?", he asked: "I knew that I would find alcohol in the basment."

Rick waved to you. Apparently you weren't the only one who couldn't sleep.

"Rich people always have the best alcohol.", Daryl added, leaping onto the sofa in a completely disordered manner. After he had occupied most of the sofa and the Sheriff was on the other side, you sat on a chair so as not to disturb anyone. You crouched as comfortably as possible on the object and rested your chin on your knees.

"I thought as soon as I put my damn ass in the bed I would fall asleep or into a coma.", you said, staring at the fire.

"Wouldn't talk 'bout a coma in the presen' of our cowboy.", Daryl warned you and opened a bottle of whiskey. Curious, you turned to the sheriff, who handed his friend a glass with a grimace.

 "Long story.", he replied. They touched each other's glasses and clearly ignored you. The sheriff noticed your eyes watching the void and leaned over the table to get a glass for you.

"What 're ya' doin'?", Daryl asked annoyed.

"A glass for Y/N, to drink...", Rick replied, filling the glass.

"Well then.", he replied still annoyed.

You drank this drink in one gulp without batting an eyelid. Daryl mumbled something through clenched teeth and before you could ask him, Rick made an explanation.

"It's just a little distraction."

"Maybe you're right...", you admitted.
Alcohol wouldn't have helped you in case of danger. You had to keep a clear head and full control of your actions. Your bodies absorbed this substance more quickly than usual.

"First ya' challenge me 'nd then ya' don't want to anymore.", Daryl replied: "Typical for those who already know how to lose."

"You're wrong."

"Proof it!", he demanded.

You stared at each other. It was really impossible to get along. There was a constant conflict between you.

"Are you really going to get drunk?", the sheriff asked, as if to blame you.

"What difference would it make?", Daryl asked: "Ya' said yerself that we're safe here."

"I'm worried about our people.", Rick admitted.

And he was right. Daryl and you looked at each other and prepared to raise the white flag for at least that night, but Rick took the words he had just said back.

"But maybe we could lower our guard for a few hours..."

The challenge was accepted and projected you and Daryl in the figure of dog and cat. You knew that Rick had trouble, but it was nice to see that he wanted to try anyway, he wanted to try to allow himself a few happy moments without fear. You clinked your glasses, raised your arms and your throat was soaked with this drink. After the third bottle, you remember that most of the whiskey landed on the floor as you tried to fill the glasses. Rick often put his glass in front of his face, laughed and hid behind the object as if you couldn't see him. Daryl gestured indiscriminately. With all the noise it seemed impossible to believe that Carl and Michonne didn't wake up, but nobody came to you. Therefore, you continued undisturbed to fill the stomach with alcohol. By now it had become a real challenge, though none of you was clear enough to realize you had already passed the limit.

"Ya' goin' to collapse.", Daryl stammered: "Give up while ya' can."

You took another sip before countering: "You'll be the one who will sleep on the floor in the end!"

"I bet on Y/N!", the sheriff chuckled.

At that moment, you realized how beautiful and spontaneous his laughter was.

"What 'n asshole!", Daryl grumbled. "We should support each other!"

"Under these conditions, you would never be able to!", you said, explaining the obvious.

Your neck ached, but you didn't have the strength to change your position. You focused on the two men, limiting yourself to looking at them as if you were in a theater. You saw that they were talking, but at that moment you couldn't concentrate on the words, thus losing the meaning of the speech. You only realized that you were grinning all the time.

"She's gone!", Daryl said to Rick, laughing.

In fact, you were just happy with that beautiful moment, if you can call it that.

"You would like that, right?", you protested against it, pulling yourself up with difficulty.

Daryl tried to get up too, but as soon as he stood he dropped back onto the couch. Rick pointed to him and shook his head. But Daryl tried again, stubborn, as if he had done everything to show that he was clearer than both of you, especially you. This time he was standing on his own feet, although they didn't move normally, but rather wavered a bit uncertainly over the steps.

"I've to piss.", he murmured, standing now near the bathroom.

Rick calmly lay down on the couch and now had much more space. You played around with the glass, turned it over and handed it from one hand to the other and asked yourself a question. Although Rick couldn't see you, across from the fireplace, you spoke, staring at his wavy hair.

"I'm glad I met you and found you again. What did you think at that moment?"

He cleared his throat and was about to start talking when Daryl reappeared in the living room.

"Didn't even remember what a toilet looks like.", he said.

"This place isn't bad, it looks like a small neighborhood that was abandoned from the start, as if these wealthy families had decided to vacate the area. And we could also check the other houses.", Rick said.

"What if we settle here?", you suggested.

"I hope you're joking.", the sheriff replied.

"Bullshit.", Daryl added and grabbed the bottle again: "Did ya' forget the others already?"

"We absolutely have to go to Terminus.", Rick repeated.

A terrible nausea forced you to wait a few minutes before continuing with the speech. You were afraid that opening your mouth would throw all your dinner on the table.

"I meant just in case. If it's not a good hideaway, as we imagined and if we won't get along with these people..."

"No.", the sheriff answered dryly. "It is not safe enough."

Daryl said nothing and continued to drink from the bottle. Suddenly the atmosphere was tense again and you did not want to make things worse. When Rick said no, there was little to discuss.

"It will be difficult to find another safe place like the prison.", you admitted.

"But we'll find it.", the sheriff said, pouring another glass of whiskey in.

The prison had been a godsend... You had nothing but hope for a shelter, and in the meantime, your body started with a bad reaction to the amount of ingested alcohol, which caused you relentless nausea and dizzying headache. You knew that if you tried to run, you would instantly land on the floor, even though you had a terrible need to go to the bathroom. Your kidneys would probably implode, but you would have resisted to avoid the victory of Daryl, who certainly wouldn't have relinquished your defeat more than once. But your efforts didn't do much, on the contrary they just delayed what you wanted to control...

Suddenly your mouth was filled with a bitter, annoying taste. You fought against yourself, against your own body. You did not want to vomit. Daryl would have mocked you endlessly. Rick rubbed his temples now and grimaced. He too had probably reached the limit.

"I think I'm going to bed.", the sheriff said, holding onto the wall. You forced yourself and tried to emulate Rick by pretending to go to the bathroom.

"I need to go to the bathroom...", you announced uncertainly. But your vision clouded for a moment, predicting what would happen.

"Ya' sure ya' can do it? Ya' don't seem very stable to me.", Daryl said, sounding worried to your surprise.

As soon as those words reached your ears, you had no time to counter because your head counterattacked and broke through your defense...