You rummaged in the closet full of clothes that had been given to you, hoping to find something simple that you liked and that could cover the wounds and bruises. You put on black jeans, similar to your current pants, and a long-sleeved shirt. There were even new underpants and bras. The general pain had disappeared with the regenerating effect of the tempered shower and your hair was soft. They were defined, not frizzy and meanwhile they had become longer again. You went to the bathroom to get the towels you'd used to put them randomly in a room, the room that might have belonged to you. It sounded strange, you couldn't believe it... As soon as you took the big towel and cleared the mirror, you were confronted again with your picture, but this time the effect was different and rather pleasant. The long-sleeved shirt hid the bruises and wounds on your body, making you feel better. The wrist still hurt a little, but now the anger was barely noticeable. You felt free, easy, new, almost as if you had been born again. Shortly afterwards you went downstairs and went to the kitchen where Michonne was looking through the cupboard. She also wore new clothes and it was nice to see her happy. Although you arrived only a few hours ago, you already felt at home. It was quieter, less suspicious... You smiled as you realized she was humming and checking every kind of food you had. As soon as she noticed your presence, she greeted you with a beaming smile.

"Hey! Wow! You look so beautiful Y/N!"

You blushed and she wrinkled her nose, amused by your reaction, grabbed a fruit, and sat down on the kitchen counter of the island.

"What do you think about it?", she asked between her bites: "About this whole current situation?"

"It seems impossible to process...", you replied, spreading your arms to indicate the whole structure. She then waved to you to sit next to her and take a fruit: "I don't think you're not hungry.", she mumbled: "You have to eat something too."

And then you ate the juicy sweet flesh to intoxicate yourself with this taste.

"Much better than the worms.", you chuckled, whereupon Michonne sighed and fell back into the memories from outside.

Her face darkened for a moment, but then her eyes returned brighter than before, though her iris was dark.

"That is the past and I will do anything to protect this community."

"That's our miracle.", you said after another bite and looked into her eyes: "And we'll all fight to keep it alive."

She nodded smiling and was glad to hear that. "You know...", she said: "You are a smart woman, Y/N, it was a good decision from Rick to welcome you to the prison that day."

You turned around in disbelief to hear such words.
"Do you really think so?", you asked shyly: "Or are you just saying it to make me feel accepted?"

She looked at you in confusion: "Is this a joke?", she replied sincerely: "I think without a doubt that you are a qualified member of the group! I liked you from the beginning! Do you remember our first mission? To get supplies?"

You remembered... That, as you struggled with yourself as you tried not to give in to the desire to kill her. You were alone in the woods, then alone in the city again. It would have been the perfect moment...

"I wasn't very talkative, I admit.", she continued: "I was more busy surviving, but I had fun. When we met these two guys, I realized that we are a perfect team."

You pretended to smile, but in fact you had been struck in your heart by a sting. After all, one of these men was someone with whom you spent some time...

"That's true, it was a very quiet, but fun expedition.", you admitted: "But I have to confess something..."

She raised her eyebrows and understood that it was something serious.

"At the beginning, I could not be near you...", you confessed: "I hated you when I was on Philip's side... But when you talked, laughed, I always realized how strong you are, how incredibly amazing..."

She rolled her mouth into a condescending grimace. She understood your position very well.

"To be honest, I can imagine how hard it would be to be in our midst if we had been on the Governor's side."

That's when you realized that you were the only one who called him by name. For you, Philip was a big asshole, but you couldn't call him the Governor, as if it was just his negative sides and actions converging and skipping the gestures and attentions that would have shown and given many people, even though he tried to kill you.

"But I'm glad to have chosen your side.", you said, threw the core of the fruit into the bin and hugged Michonne, the woman who had always shown you cold, the same woman you were supposed to kill, the woman who was now your friend. She looked at you in surprise, she had not expected such a sudden self-confidence, but she still returned the gesture. You thanked her, went out to the street and sighed as if you had got rid of a big load. Then you looked around and saw a blonde woman running away from your driveway, shyly greeting someone at the next house. Then that person turned and closed the door. That's when you realized that it was no longer the Rick you met back then. He shrugged, as if silently saying that he could do nothing about it, as if it was too late. And he was right... Because if you remember he had already given you a clue about a person from your group... You reached him, curious to examine his face more closely. As soon as you were in front of him, he smiled almost embarrassed, but without looking away from your eyes. The beard was gone, giving way to a clean, gentle and relaxed face. He was like a new person and this unexpected transformation filled your heart with joy.

"Impressive!", you said, as a child in front of a cake shop which sees the big pies.

"Impressive?", he repeated with a smile. You immediately put your hands on your hips and he stroked his chin in disbelief.

"I don't know what to say, you are... You look so different."

At that moment you saw in his eyes only embarrassment, happiness and relief.

"I hope in a positive way!", he chuckled and you didn't understand why, but you both seemed more like best friends from a no more existing world than surviving adults who had a healthy dialogue.

"I've never seen you like this before, without a beard.", you gestured: "And yes, in a good way!"

He smiled at you: "Likewise."

"Y/N!", Aaron suddenly shouted, leaving your laughter on hold: "I've been looking for you."

"Why?"

He stopped at the end of the steps as if to emphasize his intention not to enter your personal space. Then his lips reached the maximum in an smile as he saw how Rick and you had already changed in that short time.

"Deanna is almost done, would you like to meet her today?"

"Of course, no problem.", you lied because of nervousness. When you came down the stairs and left the sheriff behind, Aaron said he wanted to talk to him, but as soon as you were on the street, you realized that you didn't know where to go.

"Aaron, I'm sorry, but I have no idea where Deanna is."

He laughed at his own forgetfulness, assuming that you knew where she was. He started to turn around and walked back to you, as if to accompany you to your destination instead of giving you a simple clue, but Rick stopped him. "I'll take you there.", he argued: "Aaron, give me a moment and then we'll talk, okay?"

Aaron nodded, looked at you both, dropped onto the bench on the terrace and waited. In fact, you didn't expect to be escorted by Rick to Deanna's house. Not that it was strange and unusual, but it had been embarrassing to leave Aaron alone on the porch. It had never bothered you to go next to Rick, but as you walked along the curated street you realized how much his presence made you feel uncomfortable. You wrapped yourself in the silence and tried to appreciate every inch of the world you had around you at that moment. Alexandria would become your new safe zone... In the distance, a figure appeared that became more and more apparent in the speed with which it moved. As soon as you saw Daryl's face, you smiled, but Rick passed you a grin and pulled you by the shoulder. He remained silent, as if the presence of the archer hadn't bothered him at all, as if he hadn't even existed. All this indifference surprised you, but you still said nothing. The sheriff stopped and pointed to the house next to you. From the door appeared a woman with an authoritative face and marked by age. You felt a strange energy in this woman who was so small and careful. Her eyes, as clear as the water, looked at you and dug into your brain. For a fraction of a second, you thought you were in the presence of a deviant, but by contrast, you were sure she was a benevolent creature. The two leaders exchanged glances and Deanna invited you to come in. The house was as you imagined it to be in this community. These walls spoke of her, of her family radiating warmth and serenity. You eagerly and fleetingly looked at every detail. Then you walked down a corridor to sit in a large, well-appointed living room.

"I hope it doesn't bother you.", she said and started a video camera. You nodded and sat down on the sofa in front of the chair that was meant for her.

"So, Y/N... Let's say I already know enough, or at least the most important things..."

You stared into her eyes, trying to find out the possible information.

"Well, considering that Rick is our leader, I would agree."

She smiled and confirmed your suspicions. "I was happily surprised when I heard from Aaron that you immediately trusted and drank the water."

You shrugged your shoulders. "My group reacted differently."

"Because?", she asked in a deep voice.

"Because it could have been a trap. Because-..."

"No.", she interrupted you: "Why did you drink it?"

"Because I was thirsty.", you answered dryly. Deanna remained silent and stared at you. That answer was not enough for her, she clearly knew it was a lie. You hated her relaxed attitude and already this damn video camera.

"What are you? A psychologist or is it just a hobby?"

She crossed her legs: "No."

You pouted your lips as if to explain to her that you did not agree. You tried to annoy her, you wanted to know more about her, her character, her position. You looked around and then waited for her to continue. The curtains that framed the big window behind you were not entirely immaculate.

"Now you're certainly going to make a series of considerations that any strong person could easily pick up, a bit like the media back then.", you interjected, reminding yourself of the psychologists in the special unit.

She gave a smile as if she wanted to take on the challenge. You knew it was different, but you wanted to see how far it would go.

"You're on the defensive, Y/N.", she said, gesturing with her hands: "I think you make little gestures that you do not even notice."

"For example?"

"You're constantly touching your wrist and forearm, and I think it's a movement that only gets activated if you feel uncomfortable or perhaps ready to attack."

You stopped immediately and stared at the wrist decorated with your little sister's necklace and felt the bruises Daryl gave you too. She was right, this woman was damn right. But when you wanted to answer, she returned to the attack.

"You have a problem with your leg, a badly healed wound. I suppose it hurts very much, but you hide it, you do not like being the center of attention. You do not want to look weak, you do not want someone to take care of you or your health."

You remained silent, almost as if you wanted to argue, but didn't have the strength.

"All the movements with your eyes were the ones that Daryl did a few minutes ago. You can observe everything and everyone, but you have trouble to identify yourself with some of your group. But why?"

"Because they don't trust me. Because I'm a damn cuckoo that can't do any good and as much as I try to be optimistic, I stay a piece of shit! Do you understand?", you spat out and remained breathless.

She relaxed her muscles, unlike you, happy to have reached your heart as if it were the nut of a fruit, the deep inside.

"Because you're trying to be what you are not. They'll accept you, but only when they finally get to know the real Y/N."

You inhaled again and tried to calm down. Deanna had practically gutted you.

"And as for your leg, we have a doctor."

It would be like admitting the problem, you thought, but the idea of ​​avoiding other horrible, unnecessary pain tickled your conscience.

"You're damn tough, Deanna.", you said, although it irritated you and crossed your arms.

"We are all alike because we are survivors.", she said with a smile. She was absolutely right, though perhaps more mature in some aspects. You knew how to hunt, shoot, and, above all, survive.

"What worries you?", she said suddenly, pointing to your trembling hands and frowning. You leaned forward as if to get closer to her figure.

"If this place is what it is... Then I just wish that none of us will do anything wrong."

"It's very likely to happen, but I already expected it.", she replied, pretending to be quiet.

You sighed. Then you talked about your old family, how the events had ended up to this day and exchanged opinions. Then she got up at a certain point and went to the camera. The little red light disappeared. You had ended the session, wondering why she didn't want to ask anything about Woodbury, about the fact that you wanted to kill your group earlier... Was it possible that Rick had missed that detail?

"I don't even know if the rest of your group has already told you about the party?"

"I already know.", you interrupted, eager to get out of the house: "Spencer told me about it."

She smiled and you went to the door: "I'm glad that you already know each other. "

"He looks like a good guy."

"He is one of my two sons.", she continued: "I was planning to do the party. Not everyone seemed happy with the idea, but I would appreciate the presence of all of you."

"It's allright.", you replied dryly: "We have to make a good impression."

She looked at you without adding anything and opened the door with a serious expression: "Y/N?", she whispered, leaning against the door: "I don't know how your relationship is with Rick and Daryl, but I think you should know what he said."

You stopped motionless and at the same time stared at her distraught and desperate. A glance was enough for her, a quick glance at your arrival with Rick, at the exchanged glances, and she had already suspected something.

"I don't want to know!", you blurted out and entered the street.

The afternoon had passed quickly, among the changes in the community, speeches and various reflections on everything and everyone. Deanna's conversation had troubled you, enough to put you in a painful state of loneliness. You went back into the house and caught Carol, who put cookies on a plate and Maggie and Sasha with noodles. The smell was intoxicating. Everyone else was in the living room, sitting on sofas and chairs, waiting for dinner. You nodded to them and then went upstairs. Right now, you didn't feel in good company, though your stomach was rumbling. You threw yourself on the bed of the room where you had left your things and enjoyed this comfortable, soft and almost new mattress. You hugged the pillow and closed your eyes for a moment, happy to have your own room to retreat to or escape. Compulsive cohabitation began to be difficult, especially with some members of the group. The door, which you had just ajar, meanwhile opened gently, almost as if the person on the other side did not want to be disturbed. Although it was the other way around.

"May I?", you heard a soft voice.

The same voice revealed the person behind you. You nodded and saw Rick's shadow coming closer. He put his hands on his hips and looked around before he sat down on the bed and gave you a look back.

"Will this be your room?", he asked, as if to start a conversation.

"It's the first room I've seen and I've thrown in my things.", you replied: "You want to know how it went with Deanna, right?", you sighed and buried your face in the pillow.

"You have disappeared since you met Deanna."

"This woman is a bit disturbing.", you admitted and he smiled and gave you a reason to speak. You left the pillow and looked up to Rick so you could see his face.

"You didn't tell her everything, did you?"

He looked at you and raised his eyebrows: "No."

"Because?", you asked and had to know.

"Because it's not necessary to reveal everything about your past."

"Really? That's the reason?", you asked, insisting on a more detailed explanation.

"Y/N, I trust you and I do not regret the day I allowed you to cross that fence and enter the prison. And you should know that Daryl thinks the same way..."

"What are you trying to tell me?"

"For me and especially for Daryl, you've always been part of our group, even though we met you later, even if you were theoretically our enemy, I've just omitted some details of the story."

You embraced him instinctively after a few seconds had passed completely silent. And you didn't care what Daryl said in his interview, though you were confused again why Rick always said Daryl's name when you talked. You stayed in that position for a good minute, a minute that seemed endless. You then broke away from this affective contact, looked at each other without saying anything, but he was ready to talk.

"Want to eat with all of us, as a family?", he asked, tilting his head.

You immediately got up with a smile, Rick as well and joined the others, sitting in two opposite places in the living room. Daryl was sitting on the carpet on the floor, his back resting against the couch. Playing with a knife, he almost missed his own. Sasha set the steaming pot on the coffee table in the middle of the room and Maggie served the dishes. In a moment the verbal silence blew in these walls. The only audible sounds were the forks that touched the bottom of the plates. You ate a small portion at a time, trying to maintain that kindness longer. Then you looked around until your eyes finally stopped at Daryl and you knew that you were home.