Negan Series - Tumblr Posts

Home Is Where The Heart Is | Negan Smith

check the other parts here!

Summary:

There is no longer a home, no place of comfort in that world. One survives to live, risking life to move forward and protect one's people.

But there are always two sides of the same coin. So, is the villain truly the villain? Or is He just the villain in your story?

Pairing: Negan Smith x reader

Word Count: 1.5k

august 25, 2010

Delilah's eighteenth birthday was a tragic one. She spent it in a hospital room, watching her father connected to life-support machines. Carl stayed by the bedside, holding his father's hand, his sobs muffled in the blankets, while their mother stood just outside the door, speaking animatedly with a doctor. Shane tried to calm her, gently placing a hand on her arm.

Delilah felt suffocated in that hospital room. She curled up in a chair in the corner, hoping her father would wake up, but everyone knew, except Carl, that this wouldn't happen. At least, not now.

Carl's sobs grew louder, echoing in the empty room. Delilah had to fight back her own tears at the sight of her little brother in such distress. His desperation was palpable, especially when he offered to donate his blood to help their father.

She rose from the chair and went to Carl, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. He immediately sought refuge in her embrace, letting go of their father's hand and clinging to her with all his strength, tears soaking her shirt.

"Will he wake up?" he whispered. Delilah stroked his hair, trying to soothe him.

"I don't know," she replied. His sobs grew louder at this, and she felt a pang of guilt for not fully comforting him, but she didn't want to lie. She understood how these things worked, she knew what her father's job entailed, and unfortunately, their mother had prepared her over the years for such a possibility.

But Carl was young; he couldn't grasp what was happening, not yet. "Everything will be okay, Carl. I promise," she whispered like a mantra, holding him close until his cries began to soften.

The door to the room opened, and their mother entered with Shane, both looking devastated. Delilah knew what this meant. The doctor had no good news, and that could only mean one thing: Rick Grimes had very little chance of survival.

"Let's go home, kids," Lori whispered, her gaze never leaving her husband. "Let's give Dad some time to recover." Her voice was barely audible, but they got up anyway, Carl still in his sister's arms as they left the room in silence, followed by Shane.

"I'll take you home," Shane offered. "Go get some rest, and we'll wait for news from the hospital. Don't hesitate to call me for anything; it's what Rick would want."

"Thank you, Shane," Lori replied, accepting the comforting embrace he offered. It made Delilah shiver, and she held Carl even tighter. There was something wrong, something she had never seen before in Shane's eyes, and it was something she wished had remained hidden.

“How's your dad?”

“I don't know. He's in the hospital, and from what I understand, there isn't much good news. I just hope he gets better soon,” Delilah replied over the phone, pacing back and forth in her room. “It was a really shitty birthday present.”

Camilla chuckled on the other end. “I can imagine, but things will get better. I wanted to drop by to see you all, bring something for you and Carl, and even Lori, but my mom won't let me leave because of some weird news on TV.”

“Yeah, I heard something about that. It's probably another hoax. Tumblr is full of them lately. People losing their minds and doing stupid stuff. Did you see that post?”

“Which one?”

“Liza reblogged it. Apparently, cannibalism is making a comeback,” Delilah joked, unaffected by the macabre video circulating online. “It's probably fake, almost certainly, but it's one of the weirdest trends in the past few weeks.”

“Ew!” exclaimed Camilla. “And you watched it? You're crazy; I don't know how you don't throw up at that stuff.”

Delilah shrugged, taking a bite of the apple in her hand. “It's fake anyway. I doubt a group of lunatics would go around America eating people without getting caught. And the person filming it is way too calm.”

“You're weird, girl, let me tell you,” Camilla sighed on the other end. “Ugh, I have to go. My mom is freaking out over this news and wants to go back to Mexico to stay with relatives. She seriously sounds like a crazy woman!”

Delilah laughed. “Alright, see you tonight?”

“I don't think so, especially if my mom keeps this up. Talk to you tomorrow, girl!”

When she finished the apple, she tossed it out the window into the neighbor's garden, unconcerned about the complaints she would hear the next day. Her curiosity was piqued by her mother’s worried voice coming from the kitchen, apparently talking on the phone.

She left her room, peeked into Carl’s and quietly closed the door, seeing him asleep on the bed with one of their father's hoodies as a blanket. The sight made her heart ache; seeing her little brother in such a state broke her heart.

"Is everything okay?" she asked her mother as she came down the stairs, entering the kitchen where Lori was barricading the windows with blankets, blocking out the light. "What are you doing?"

Lori turned, surprised by the intrusion. Her face was full of worry. "Help me," she ordered, tossing Delilah some blankets and heading to the living room.

Delilah started to panic, confused by Lori's strange behavior. "Mom, what’s going on?" she asked, raising her voice, but Lori didn’t answer her directly.

"You're not going out tonight."

"What?! Why?" Delilah exclaimed, dropping the blankets. "You can't do this to me, it’s been planned for weeks! Mom?" She felt her anger rising, irritated by her mother's behavior.

She watched Lori move frantically around the house. "No one is leaving. Now help me until Shane gets here," Lori said, turning to look at her, and Delilah was shocked to see the pure terror on her mother’s face. Her anger turned into sheer fear.

"Mom?" she called. "Mom, what’s happening?"

Lori stopped, running her hands through her hair. "I don’t know, honey, I don’t know. Shane called from the hospital saying something’s happening, people are losing their minds, biting other patients. It's chaos in there, just like in the city. Everyone’s trying to leave."

"Leave from what?" Delilah asked, confused.

"I don’t know, something they mentioned on TV. But now help me and wake Carl up, we need to get ready to go," Lori resumed covering the windows. Heart pounding, Delilah went to wake Carl.

Delilah watched the landscape outside the window. The sky had grown dark, and they had been driving for hours, not knowing exactly where they were headed. She had heard Shane mention a refuge in downtown Atlanta, and the initial plan was to reach it as soon as possible. However, it seemed the entire city had the same idea, as they quickly found themselves stuck in traffic, an endless line of cars ahead of them.

“Wait here,” Lori said to the two kids as she got out of the car, followed by Shane, who went to talk to other people who had also stepped out of their vehicles, realizing they wouldn't be able to get out of this traffic jam anytime soon.

Delilah watched Carl looking around, alert. “Where did they go?”

“I don’t know,” she replied, leaning her head against the window. “They’ll be back soon, don’t worry.”

Carl turned to her. “How can you be so calm?”

“I’m tired,” she answered simply, closing her eyes to block out the external noises: people shouting, arguing, and especially the car horns blaring. “If you sleep, time passes faster.”

“I’m not sleepy, I want Mom,” Carl said, shifting on the seat to look outside, searching for Lori. “They’re coming back!” he exclaimed when he saw Lori and Shane returning with some other people.

“See? I told you it’d be okay,” Delilah said, growing more exhausted with each passing minute. She soon fell asleep, succumbing to the embrace of Morpheus.

But her peace was short-lived. Loud noises jolted her awake, and she noticed the car was now empty. Panic set in as she frantically looked for Carl, hoping he hadn’t wandered off to explore. Relief washed over her when she saw him with a group of people, playing with a blonde girl.

Shane and Lori were near their car, looking up at the sky from where the noise originated. Delilah joined them, also looking up, trying to understand what they were watching.

Lori took her by the shoulders, hugging her. “It’s going to be okay,” she whispered in her ear, stroking her hair. “As long as we’re together, it’ll be okay.”

The noise grew louder, and planes flew overhead. It didn’t take them long to realize where they were headed. Delilah followed Shane, who entered the woods, moving in the direction the planes were flying, with Lori right behind them.

“What’s happening?” she tried to ask, but her voice was drowned out by the roar of more planes passing overhead.

They stopped when they emerged from the woods near the highway. Delilah brought her hands to her mouth, horrified by the sight before her. Atlanta was being bombed, and even from that distance, they could see the explosions, the city lighting up in flames.

The refuge was gone, just like the normalcy of their entire world.

Home Is Where The Heart Is | Negan Smith

check the other parts here!

Summary:

There is no longer a home, no place of comfort in that world. One survives to live, risking life to move forward and protect one's people.

But there are always two sides of the same coin. So, is the villain truly the villain? Or is He just the villain in your story?

Pairing: Negan Smith x reader

Word Count: 6.8k

Home?

“The world’s gone to shit.”

“Don’t talk like that, Delilah!” her mother scolded while thanking Emily for finding mushrooms to eat. “There’s only one way to know.”

“Asking Shane when he gets back?” asked the blonde, who was perhaps a few years older than Delilah.

Around them, a large group of people kept themselves busy in any way they could, trying to fill the empty moments and be helpful during this crisis. It was a kind of routine, something that allowed everyone to feel useful.

Delilah, however, seemed unable to adapt like the others. It had been a week since they had gathered at a mountain clearing, hoping they were far enough from the city to avoid attracting any of those things. Yet, every day, she found herself just watching the people moving around her.

The only useful thing she had done was help Daryl Dixon skin a squirrel. Daryl was a peculiar man—gruff, yet always ready to lend a hand around the small camp.

She glanced at her mother from the corner of her eye as she saw her stand up, looking for Dale, an old man with his beloved RV, to inform him she was going for a walk. Dale preferred spending his time on the roof of his RV with binoculars, keeping an eye on the surroundings and ensuring everyone was safe.

The man nodded, and Delilah looked away, feeling a strange sensation in her stomach. She knew that every time her mother left the camp when Shane was absent, it meant they were meeting secretly. Delilah knew what they were doing, and the mere thought made her nauseous.

Shane had been her father’s best friend and had recently returned with the news that her father was as good as dead in that hospital. Since then, her mother had thrown herself into Shane’s arms. Maybe out of desperation, but Delilah couldn’t find a good reason no matter how she looked at it.

“How are you?” Emily took Lori’s place, sitting closer to Delilah. “I know it’s not easy.”

Delilah shrugged. “Doesn’t change much for me,” she lied. “The gnats are bothering me more than this shitty situation, to be honest.”

Emily nodded. “Then you’re handling it better than many others.”

“We can say that. There’s not much we can do, in the end, whether we like it or not.”

Let me know if there are any more adjustments or details you’d like to add!

Delilah wanted to believe her own words, to find a light within that abyss, but it seemed impossible. She felt exhausted; sleeping with the constant fear of dying was something she wasn't used to and probably never would be.

Learning to live differently, finding a new balance—that was what they needed to do, and Delilah was afraid she wouldn't be able to manage it. She couldn’t accept that her world was truly over; everything that once mattered now meant nothing.

Emily sighed, getting up to go to her sister. Delilah knew she was drawing more and more glares each day, always sitting on the same log doing nothing. But she couldn’t bring herself to get up and help more.

Sometimes, she helped Daryl skin his catches or sat under the umbrella with Dale, watching the landscape while he obsessively scanned the area. She felt like she was going crazy, having to look after Carl because her mother was too busy screwing her dead father’s best friend.

Carl interrupted her thoughts, practically sitting on her lap, forcing a smile. "Hey, troublemaker, what’s up?"

"Nothing. Mom told me to stay where you could see me," he said, returning to playing with the toy cars Shane had given him. "And I’m bored."

Delilah hugged him, resting her head on his. "I’m bored too."

She glanced over at her mother, venturing into the woods under the watchful eyes of several survivors. Her mother’s affairs weren’t exactly a secret. Delilah felt almost embarrassed, uncomfortable with her mother’s behavior, as if her betrayal struck her on a personal level.

She could hear Andrea whispering to Emily, the curious looks from Carol. It wasn’t a secret, just like the fact that her mother had been married until a few days ago.

"Come on," she said, turning to Carl as she stood up and took his hand. "Let’s go bother Dale up there."

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

The October breeze sent a shiver through Delilah as she sat atop Dale's camper. She found the spot strangely comforting; observing the world from above allowed her to feel a semblance of control over her life.

She hadn’t shed a tear since what she considered the apocalypse began. She couldn't feel anything but a deep emptiness inside, like she was a soulless body, just like the dead roaming their land.

Sometimes she woke in the middle of the night, gasping, hoping to find herself back in her bed, with Carl tucked under the covers after a bad dream, or her mother coming in to wake her, smiling at the sight of the two siblings.

But nothing was the same anymore, even though many struggled to accept it. The world had changed, and with it, the people. Her mother was a perfect example; it had been two months since the world ended, and the woman she once loved now only evoked disgust in her, just like Shane. Shane, who she had once had a crush on as a child, who had taught her to ride a bike, was now just a stranger.

“A penny for your thoughts?” Dale took a seat next to her, resting his rifle on his lap, ready if needed. “I know you’re scared, we all are. But we have to stick together and find a way to move forward.”

Delilah glanced at him, chuckling. “Is that a nice way of telling me I should get off my ass and help?”

The old man laughed, his laughter echoing in the quiet morning. They were probably the only ones awake at that hour, except for Dixon, who preferred wandering the woods over staying with the group. Delilah couldn’t blame him.

“You know what?” Dale turned to the girl, curious about what she meant. “There’s nothing worth my time. I don’t want to go picking mushrooms or berries with Emily, fishing with Andrea, or doing laundry with Carol and the others!”

She sank deeper into her chair. “I want to be really useful, to have a purpose. Helping Daryl, for example, or going into the city with Glenn, Andrea, Merle, and T-Dog. Not stuck here, in a glass bubble because my mom is paranoid.”

“Your mother cares about you and Carl; it's completely understandable why she wouldn’t want to throw you into the middle of all those walkers. I get it, it's a mother’s love speaking.”

The two fell silent after their brief interaction, listening to the birds' chirping and enjoying the last rays of sun before winter. October was unusually warm that year, but nothing guaranteed the winter would be the same. They had to prepare for a possible sudden cold snap.

Delilah wrapped herself in her red leather jacket, perhaps a bit too heavy for the mild weather, but the warmth reminded her of home, when everything was normal.

Home—a concept that had lost all meaning in a few weeks. None of them had a home anymore, even though Lori insisted that as long as the four of them stayed together, they were home. But Delilah had never heard anything more ridiculous.

Shane wasn’t home, and her mother might as well leave if it were up to her. She couldn’t look her in the eye anymore; the only thing her presence reminded her of was the constant orders. Do this, do that.

A noise from the woods caught Delilah's attention, causing Dale to jump to his feet and aim his rifle in the direction of the sound. Soon, the figure of Daryl emerged from the trees, with squirrels slung over his shoulder. The man shot a glare at Dale and gave Delilah a quick nod. She obeyed, quickly climbing down from the camper to meet him.

“Here,” he handed her the squirrels before heading back into the woods. Delilah watched him until he disappeared, finding him to be a particularly intriguing man. Without wasting time, she settled into her usual spot, took out her knife, and began making a circular cut around the tail.

When she finished, her hands were covered in blood, but at least they would have something to eat. The sun had fully risen by now, waking up the rest of the group and starting the daily chores. Carl soon joined her, clinging to her side out of boredom, following her around all day until Sophia invited him to play with the other kids.

In a way, she envied them as she watched them run around the camp, seemingly unfazed, as if they were just at a summer camp while she was stuck rotting in her usual spot. T-Dog had joked that she’d probably wear a hole in the log from sitting there so much.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Lori's voice came from behind her as she placed a kiss on Delilah's head. “Did you sleep well? How long have you been up?” Delilah shrugged.

Lori sighed, placing her hands on her hips, clearly distressed. She knelt in front of her daughter, trying to catch her eye. “Delilah... please look at me,” she said, taking Delilah's face in her hands, forcing her to make eye contact. “I know it’s tough, but—”

“No, don’t lecture me. You don’t have the right when you’re sleeping with Dad’s best friend,” Delilah interrupted, her tone harsh. Lori was taken aback, left speechless. She looked at her daughter, mouth agape, unable to find a defense because, in reality, she didn’t even know how to defend herself. “Do you really think you're being discreet? Everyone here knows! And you don’t know how ashamed I am that you’re my mother. You come off as nothing but a slut right now. You jumped into his arms right away, you didn’t even mourn Dad.”

“Don’t you dare speak to me like that!” Lori snapped, but Delilah stood up, leaving her mother alone, ignoring her calls. She had no intention of wasting time arguing about something that should never have been up for debate.

Hearing the commotion, Shane got up from the chair where he was cleaning knives and grabbed Delilah's arm. “Is everything okay?”

She looked at him, wondering if his kindness and concern were just a ploy to win her over, but she had no intention of playing his game. “Don’t touch me, you disgust me,” she snapped, shaking off his arm and walking away, hoping to find some peace and quiet.

Shane turned to Lori, confused, and seeing her devastated expression, he quickly pieced together what had happened. He rubbed his forehead, unsure of how to handle the situation, knowing that from now on, working with Delilah would be even more challenging.

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

“What are you doin’ out here, kid?” Daryl's voice startled her. She turned quickly, noticing him sitting under a tree, working on his crossbow. “It’s dangerous.”

“I needed some space,” she shrugged, wrapping her arms around herself, feeling self-conscious under his gaze. “What are you doing?” she ventured to ask.

He looked her up and down, a perpetual scowl on his face. “Stuff.”

Delilah stared back, unfazed by his usual cold demeanor. Gathering her courage, she sat down next to him, leaning against the tree, hoping he wouldn’t shame her by sending her away. To her surprise, he said nothing, only casting the occasional sidelong glance.

“Not here to comfort you, if that’s what you want,” he said abruptly, making her turn to him. His eyes were fixed on his crossbow, his thick fingers adjusting a loose string.

“I just need some silence,” she replied, closing her eyes and enjoying the breeze rustling the leaves above them, the sunlight warming her face. Finding moments of peace in this new world was rare. One always had to be on guard, and Delilah just wanted to rest for a few hours. Surprisingly, Daryl let her.

They stayed there for what felt like hours, lulled by the chirping of birds and occasional laughter from the camp. Her tranquility was abruptly cut short when Daryl nudged her foot with his boot. She opened one eye, raising an eyebrow at him. “What?”

“Get up. I’m going huntin’.”

“Can I come with you?” Delilah's request seemed to put Daryl in a quandary. He looked at her with annoyance, but she took it as a victory that he didn’t immediately say no. She stood up, brushing dirt and leaves off her pants, following him into the woods. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

He stopped, turning to her and pointing a finger in her face. “Stay behind me. Don’t make noise.”

Delilah mimed locking her lips and throwing away the key, earning an eye roll from him. She would do anything to break the routine, and if that meant staying silent as a mime, so be it.

She drew a knife from her belt, ready for any unexpected encounter with one of the undead. Daryl moved through the forest as if he knew it like the back of his hand, his steps silent despite his size. Occasionally, he would stop, aim his crossbow at the treetops, and fire, hitting a squirrel that fell to the ground, lifeless. 

He handed them to her, instructing her to tie them to a rope he gave her so they could carry more than a couple at a time. She obeyed, finally feeling genuinely useful for something other than playing house.

The sun was high in the sky, indicating it was probably early afternoon when they were drawn to a strange noise. “What the hell is that?”

“Sounds like an alarm,” Delilah said, moving next to Daryl, trying to determine the source of the noise. But another thought invaded her mind. She turned to him, panic rising inside her. “Won’t it attract the walkers?”

Daryl seemed to come to the same conclusion because he nodded and started retracing their steps. “Let’s get back to camp. It’s not safe.” She followed him like a faithful puppy, worried he might leave her in the woods with no way to find her way back because, if she were completely honest, she hadn’t paid attention to their direction.

It took them a while to return to camp, but when they arrived, they noticed the alarm had stopped. The source was a sleek red car. She turned to Daryl, hoping he might appreciate a good engine, but when she looked, he was already heading back into the woods.

She sighed, guessing they had only returned so he could ditch her there, getting rid of her presence. “Jerk,” she muttered, placing the squirrels near the makeshift kitchen and turning back to inspect the car.

“We’ll get some good parts for the RV from this,” Dale said, coming up beside her, examining the engine to check its condition. Delilah grimaced. “Do you really have to tear it apart?”

The old man smiled, leaning over the hood. “We need the parts. Besides, believe me, you’ll find another nice car. Not like anyone can do much with them now.”

“Dad!” Carl’s shout made her turn quickly, searching for her little brother. When she saw him, her knees nearly gave out. If not for the car, she would have collapsed.

Carl and her mother were running toward a man in a sheriff’s uniform, and Delilah thought she might be losing her mind. Maybe she had hit her head somewhere or was having a stupid hallucination. Maybe it was finally her time; maybe she was truly going crazy.

But when her father picked up Carl, falling to the ground and holding him as if his life depended on it, she realized her father was really there. Rick Grimes was alive.

Her heart tightened in her chest as she watched her mother hug and kiss him, but it couldn’t distract her from the fact that her father was alive. She saw him cry with joy as he embraced his family, then pull back slightly to look around, asking Lori something.

Delilah moved from where she had been leaning against the car, meeting her father’s eyes before running toward him. He caught her in his arms, lifting her off the ground and kissing her head, repeating how much he loved her like a mantra.

For the first time since the end of the world, Delilah Grimes cried in her father’s arms.

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

“Can I come with you?” Delilah asked, approaching the group preparing to head back into the city to search for Merle Dixon and the bag full of guns. Rick didn’t even turn around before responding.

“No, sweetheart, it’s too dangerous. Stay here with your mom and Carl.”

“But—”

“No way, Lilah, don’t even think about it.” Rick insisted, giving her a kiss on the head before setting off with the group towards the city, once again leaving the rest of the camp to fend for themselves.

Delilah sighed, returning to her usual spot until Carl approached her with a smile. “Wanna come catch frogs with us?”

Delilah glanced at Shane behind the boy, noticing how his demeanor had shifted since her father's return. The mere thought made her nauseous, but what worried her most was the change in his gaze—possessive, dangerous.

“Uh, okay,” she agreed, letting the two boys lead the way while maintaining her distance from Shane and staying silent until they reached the women at the river, who were washing clothes.

It was a sweltering day for October, but none of them complained, instead relishing the warmth. They had been lucky to find a quarry so close to camp, providing them with fish and water to sustain them.

“I can’t catch anything,” Carl whined, his feet in the water, while Delilah watched from a rock, not entirely convinced to join them in the cold water.

Shane glanced around, then turned to the boy. “Yeah.” The atmosphere between the two was tense, different from just a few days ago, and Delilah was curious about what had happened, what had been said, to change their relationship so drastically.

In all the years Shane had been part of family events, dinners, lunches, and birthday parties, there had never been such a strange tension between them.

“They’re smart, they stay underwater,” Shane added.

“Maybe they’re just not interested in you,” Delilah commented. Her remark wasn’t entirely ignored, but Shane chose not to respond beyond a tight smile, not letting on that her words had irked him. He couldn’t afford to lose his temper in front of Carl.

“Little bastards, they know something’s up. That’s why you have to do it the old-fashioned way.” Shane proceeded to explain a rather pathetic plan to Carl, to which the boy responded with lukewarm enthusiasm.

Shane lay in wait before diving into the water, splashing Delilah. At least Carl seemed to be enjoying himself, laughing as he watched Shane thrash around in the water and warning him about the frogs swimming towards him.

There were no frogs, but that was a detail Delilah chose not to share with Carl.

When Shane sprayed water towards Carl, it hit Delilah square on, causing her to stand up and try to wring out her clothes. It wasn’t the time or place to get sick from a sudden gust of wind.

"Come on, Delilah! It's just a game!" Carl exclaimed when he saw her walking away from the quarry, a little sad that his sister had left. "Wait for me!"

He left the net in the water, moving away from Shane and trying to catch up with Delilah, catching her by the shirt. "You're not mad, are you? It wasn’t Shane's intention to get you wet."

"No, Carl, I'm fine. I just don't want to get sick, that's all," she reassured him, and the boy looked at her in silence. "I promise, pinky swear." She extended her little finger, and Carl smiled, hooking his with hers. Shane caught up with them shortly after, soaked from head to toe, a serious look on his face as he watched Delilah crouch down to Carl's level.

She took him by the hand, leading him out of the quarry to dry him off and make sure he didn't catch a cold either. Once she was sure he was in dry clothes, Delilah insisted he take a nap to recharge his energy, especially since there was nothing else to do, trying to fill his time as much as possible.

But voices outside the tent woke him up, also stirring Delilah from her daze. "What's going on?" he asked, yawning and stepping out of the tent, his sister following soon after.

They saw much of the group heading towards a side of the camp, and they decided to join them, holding Carl's hand in case there was danger. She kept him behind her, acting as a shield until they stopped in front of a rather bizarre scene.

Delilah approached Carol. "What's happening?"

The woman shook her head. "I have no idea. It seems like it's been going on for hours. The heat must have gotten to him, poor thing."

A man named Jim was digging holes in the ground, and the most frightening and chilling thing that gave Delilah goosebumps was the fact that they were human-sized. She held Carl close, worried that Jim had really lost his mind and was about to do something foolish.

"Jim, why don't you stop?" Shane tried to talk to him, but the man continued undeterred, acting as if he hadn't heard him, and given his condition, it was highly likely that he hadn't.

The sun beat down harder than ever, and Delilah found herself compelled to take off her jacket to avoid risking heatstroke; her shirt was sticking to her back due to a thin layer of sweat that was starting to cover her forehead as well.

"What do you want?" Jim's voice was hoarse, tired, and irritated.

"We're all just worried, that's all. Dale says you've been here for hours."

"And so?" the man seemed genuinely confused, looking around to take note of the worried and frightened faces of the rest of the group.

"Why are you digging? Are you heading to China, Jim?" Shane tried to lighten the mood, ignoring the clear signs of stress in the man in front of him.

Jim raised his arms, smiling sarcastically. "What does it matter? I'm not hurting anyone," and he resumed digging.

"If not yourself, then, Jim, it's 37 degrees now. You can't go on like this," Delilah realized it was hotter than she thought, not imagining that October could become so hot even though it was normal to have high temperatures around this time where they were. Not this high, though.

Shane approached him, preventing the others from understanding what he was saying, and in no time, he had Jim pinned to the ground, forcing him to stop. "It's for your own good, Jim," he said.

Delilah took Carl away from the scene, not wanting him to witness such acts of violence not so much for fear that he would get strange ideas, but because she knew how much he cared about and admired Shane; she didn't want to ruin his vision of him. She ignored his complaints, assuring him that Shane was more than capable of handling the situation on his own.

But Delilah knew she couldn't protect Carl forever, especially since that same evening the first attack would reduce the group and bring death into their existence.

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

Delilah watched her father talk into the walkie-talkie while looking out at the city of Atlanta from a distance, lost in his conversation with someone she had no idea about. It still felt strange to her, surreal even, that her father was there with them and not in a hospital turned into one of those walking dead.

It was a miracle.

But the peace after the previous night's attack had been shattered. The now smaller and frightened group no longer felt safe in the woods and intended to move towards the CDC in the hope of finding some answers.

She watched Carl and Sophia reluctantly say goodbye to Eliza and Louis, the only other children in the group, before heading down a different path, most likely never to see them again.

"Everything alright, sweetheart?" Rick put an arm around his daughter's shoulders, pulling her into a sideways hug as they watched the same scene. "I promise you, everything will be fine. I swear."

But Delilah didn't know if she could believe that. She had learned more than once since the beginning of this new world that things wouldn't always go the right way, yet a part of her wanted to believe it. She rested her head on his shoulder, letting his gentle touches soothe her in the hope of dispelling the fears that formed in her mind every day.

"I want to believe you," she whispered, pulling away when she saw Shane approaching from a distance. She excused herself, moving away from the two men and joining Carl, who was now watching Jim with an expression of distrust.

She couldn't blame him. It had only been a few hours since they discovered he had been bitten, and the idea that he might turn into one of those things made everyone tense, scared that something like last night's incident could happen again. "Hey, little man."

Carl barely turned, his gaze still fixed on the man tied up under the tree. "Want to help me finish putting away the stuff? I need your strong arms to move all that gear, or I'll be here until tomorrow."

She tried to lighten the mood with humor. It was hard to put on a smile that wasn't genuine, but she did it for Carl, for his safety.

The boy nodded slowly, walking towards the last tent that needed to be packed up, and Delilah followed shortly after, closing it all up and loading it into Dale's RV for the journey.

She took one last look at the breathtaking view they were leaving behind, hating the fact that such tranquility was a result of the world's end and not just a simple family trip. She climbed into the RV with the others, silently complaining about the fact that they had brought Jim along in the hope of finding a cure at the CDC.

Dale glanced at her out of the corner of his eye as he drove, feeling pity for the girl's lack of liveliness. He had gotten to know her a bit during those weeks they had spent together and found her to be a bright girl, perhaps too bright for her own good, and in a normal life, she could have been very successful with that sharp mind.

He sighed, seeing the light in her eyes dimmed, knowing there was nothing that could restore it. In this world, you had to learn to survive, or you perished.

"Damn," Dale exclaimed as he saw smoke billowing from the RV's hood, pulling over in the middle of the road to check if the damage was severe. "This old clunker won't last much longer."

It took Delilah a moment to realize they had stopped. With her eyes closed, she'd been trying to block out Jim's agonized groans from the back, where he was starting to lose his mind.

She leaned forward to look out the window, noticing the entire group had halted. Rick was next to Dale, inspecting under the RV's hood. He gave his daughter a reassuring nod before returning to his conversation with Dale.

She settled back into her seat, trying to get some sleep. She had no idea how long they'd be stopped or on the road, what awaited them at the CDC, and certainly didn't want to face it with only a few hours of rest. It was hard to get a good night's sleep under their conditions, but inside the RV, she felt somewhat safe, if not for Jim.

She growled in frustration when she couldn't relax, the man's presence too overwhelming. She opened her eyes when she felt movement, the RV rocking slightly, and soon after saw her father making his way inside.

"Everything okay?" she asked, watching him head toward where Jim lay, drenched in sweat and his face twisted in agony. She went silent, pressing herself against the seat to overhear their conversation.

Rick stood by the bed. "We'll be back on the road soon, don't worry."

"Oh, Christ. No," Jim moaned. "My bones… my bones are like glass, every little bump…. God, this trip is killing me. Leave me here. I'm done." He looked at Rick, resigned to his horrible situation. "Leave me here."

His request stunned the entire group, making the rest of the journey solemn as they lost another member. Delilah watched through the window as Jim's figure under a tree grew smaller. She closed her eyes when she saw him put the gun barrel in his mouth and pull the trigger.

Delilah woke up when she subconsciously felt the RV stop, realizing they were in front of what she assumed was the CDC.

"Are we here?" she asked, stretching, her muscles stiff from the position she had slept in all day. Dale nodded and got out, grabbing his rifle and waiting for everyone to disembark before closing the door. "Wow."

The entire group paused to take in the scene before them; abandoned military vehicles were everywhere, barricades at every corner, but the most disturbing sight was the hundreds of bodies scattered across the area. They were careful not to touch them, unsure if they were truly dead or the walking dead.

The putrid stench of the corpses made Delilah gag, forcing her to turn away from the group and vomit the little food she had eaten. She felt the acidity of her stomach in her throat and was grateful when someone placed a hand on her back and handed her a bottle of water, until she saw who it was.

"Alright, keep moving, let's go!" Shane ordered quietly, understanding that the less attention they attracted, the better. Delilah cringed as she felt his hand still on her back. "Thanks," she muttered, handing back the bottle and shrugging off his hand.

She quickened her pace to rejoin the group, ignoring Shane’s intense gaze boring into the back of her head. Carl reached out his hand to his sister, and she took it, squeezing tightly, not wanting to be separated again.

It felt like navigating a minefield. Glenn pointed out a few walkers with his rifle, who were wandering aimlessly instead of lying still. Carl’s grip tightened painfully on her hand, making her wince slightly from the pain.

The odor grew more pungent, and Delilah had to cover her nose with her arm, like many others in the group. When they finally reached the CDC, they found the shutters closed, the place seemingly barricaded from the inside. The faint glimmer of hope within each of them began to fade.

“Walkers!” Daryl shouted, rushing forward and firing his crossbow. Glenn and Dale joined in, trying to protect the group as they desperately searched for a way in. “You led us to a graveyard!”

“He made a decision,” Lori said, letting go of Carl’s hand and moving closer to Rick.

Daryl snarled, “A bad decision! Look around, damn it!”

“Shut up. You hear me?” Shane snapped, getting in Daryl’s face and escalating the situation. They started shoving each other, making enough noise to attract even more walkers.

Rick tried to calm things down, but even Shane seemed to lose his patience. He argued that they were at a dead end and if they stayed there any longer, they’d all be dead. Suddenly, the shutters began to move.

The group fell silent, watching hopefully as the shutters slowly rose just enough to let them pass through. A voice crackled through the speakers.

“Get inside! Quickly!”

The faint hope that had almost vanished suddenly returned. Delilah squeezed Carl’s hand tighter, almost pulling him along as they ran towards the entrance. Once inside, the shutters closed behind them with a definitive clang, shutting out the chaos and the walkers.

Rick led the group down a dimly lit hallway until they reached a large metal door that slowly opened, revealing a tired but kind-looking man in a lab coat.

“Welcome to the CDC. I’m Dr. Edwin Jenner,” he said, his voice weary but welcoming. “You got here just in time.”

The group exchanged uncertain but relieved looks. Delilah felt a semblance of safety for the first time in ages, hoping they had finally found a place to rest and, maybe, some answers.

Rick stepped forward. “Thank you for letting us in. We didn’t know how much longer we could hold out out there.”

Jenner nodded, his eyes scanning the tired and worn faces before him. “We’ll do our best to help you. But you need to understand... there aren’t many answers here. Just attempts and hopes.”

Delilah, still holding Carl’s hand, knew those words held the harsh truth of their new world. However, even a glimmer of hope was better than the complete darkness they had been facing.

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

She had no idea how long she had stood under the hot water, but she couldn’t bring herself to step away from the soothing sensation she had missed so much. When she finally emerged from the shower, wrapped in a bathrobe, it felt like she was in a dream.

The room had a single bed, a desk, a wardrobe, and finally, some privacy. If it weren’t for the barricaded window, it might have felt like a hotel room.

As she started getting dressed, a knock on the door startled her. “I’ll be right there!” she called out, quickly pulling on some clean clothes. She hurried to the door and was surprised to see Dr. Jenner standing there, gloves on and a kit in hand.

“May I come in?” he asked, stepping inside and setting the kit on the desk. He looked at her for a moment. “Please, take a seat. I need to draw some blood.”

Delilah sat down and extended her arm. Goosebumps rose on her skin as he took her wrist and gently straightened her arm. “Why? None of us have been bitten or sick.”

“It’s protocol. I’ve already drawn samples from your family. Nothing to worry about,” he said. He didn’t smile or offer any reassurance, but his straightforwardness brought her a sense of comfort.

She nodded, watching him tie a tourniquet around her bicep. Curiosity got the better of her. “Where are all the other doctors? Shouldn’t this place be full?”

Jenner glanced up for a second before returning to his task. “I’m the only one left.”

“How did they die?”

Jenner paused, swallowing hard. “Various reasons, but there wasn’t an attack here at the CDC.”

Delilah felt a chill despite the warmth of the room. “So, why did they leave?”

“Some left to be with their families. Others... gave up.” He didn’t elaborate, but the weight of his words hung in the air.

“Gave up?”

“Losing hope in a place like this can be worse than the infection itself,” he admitted quietly, focusing on drawing her blood. “When you’re faced with the end of the world, not everyone can keep going.”

Delilah looked at Jenner, seeing the exhaustion etched into his features. “How do you keep going?”

He didn’t answer immediately, finishing up and placing a bandage on her arm. “I keep going because I have to. Because if I don’t, then all those people who gave up did so for nothing.”

She watched as he packed up his kit. “Thank you,” she said softly.

Jenner nodded, pausing at the door. “Get some rest. We’ll talk more tomorrow.”

As he left, Delilah felt the weight of his words settle over her. She lay down on the bed, staring at the ceiling. The world outside was falling apart, but in here, they had a chance. It wasn’t much, but it was something to hold onto.

She decided to join the group in the cafeteria, smiling at the sight of such a peaceful, almost normal scene. "Have you been here for long?" she asked, noticing Glenn struggling to contain his laughter and maintain a serious demeanor.

The boy handed her a glass of red wine, and Delilah thanked him, wetting her lips with the intense red liquid. "Can I try?" She almost spat out the wine when she heard Carl's question, and after briefly glancing at her mother, she passed him the glass.

The table fell silent as everyone watched the boy take a sip of the wine, grimacing in disgust as soon as the liquid touched his tongue. They all burst into laughter, and Delilah hugged her little brother, tousling his hair. "You're a big boy now."

"Come on! Leave me alone," Carl tried to squirm out of her grasp, but she didn't let him go.

The two siblings began to playfully wrestle, ending up on the floor with Delilah on top of Carl, pinning his limbs and tickling him. The boy turned red from laughter and the effort of trying to flip his sister over, but to no avail.

"I surrender! I surrender!" Carl shouted, waving the white flag, and Delilah got up, giving him a hand to stand. When the group started applauding, she took a bow before sitting down again to fill her stomach that she had emptied earlier.

During dinner, as it started to get late, the group began to disperse to retire to their rooms for a good night's sleep. Carol took the opportunity to take Sophia and Carl to a room resembling a library to read them a book before bedtime.

Even Rick and Jenner stepped away from the banquet to discuss what Delilah presumed was their overnight arrangements. When her mother left to follow Carol, she frowned upon seeing Shane, a little tipsy, following shortly after.

She started to get up, but Glenn's hand pulled her back into her seat, making her smile at his tipsy appearance. A faint smile was present on his features, his head slightly tilted to the side, the bottle of red wine in his hand.

"Stay here," he slurred.

Daryl, on the other side of the table, chuckled, catching Delilah's attention as she turned, unaware of his presence. She thought she was alone with the Asian boy. "Good luck with that," he said.

"What do you mean by that?" Both struggled to understand what he was saying, as alcohol muddled his words and made it nearly impossible to comprehend. Delilah chuckled, getting up and offering him an arm. "Let's go, Glenn, let's get you to your room."

"Oh, and then you'll stay with me?" The suggestive comment made Delilah pause in her tracks, supporting him with one arm and giving him a light smack on the back of his head. "Ow!"

"You're drunk, Glenn, watch what you say," she scolded, pulling him away from the wall he had leaned on.

The boy followed her, leaning on her for support when his head spun too much. In no time, they found themselves in front of his quarters, a few doors down from hers. “Where’s your key?”

“Uh…” The boy let go of her arm and began patting his pants pockets until he found it, smiling and holding the keys up to her eyes. “Ta-da!”

Glen struggled to insert the key into the door, his hand wavering left and right due to his state. The girl had to stifle her laughter when she had to catch him as he leaned against the open door.

“You’re really wasted,” she said, struggling to carry him to the bed and throwing him onto it with all the strength she could muster. She turned to leave, feeling the alcohol she had drunk beginning to get to her. “Goodnight, Glenn.”

“Wait,” he tried to sit up but sank back down when dizziness overcame him. “Stay, please?”

Delilah turned to look at him, searching his eyes for any sign of malice, but saw only a boy around her age, alone and scared. She closed the door and sat beside him, gently stroking his shoulder. “Are you okay, Glenn?”

The boy slid to the floor, leaning against the mattress, and Delilah followed, letting him rest his head on her shoulder. The atmosphere between them had shifted dramatically; the lightheartedness and carefree attitude from a few minutes ago had been replaced by the heavy weight of their reality.

“I don’t know…how to feel,” Glenn said, staring at the wall in front of them. “I can’t stop wondering how my family is, if they’re okay. If they’re alive.”

Delilah didn’t know how to respond. She wasn’t the best at comforting others, especially someone she didn’t have a close bond with. She rested her head against his, hoping the silence wouldn’t be too oppressive for him.

“Everything will be alright, Glenn, I promise,” she said. But what Delilah didn’t know was that not everything would be alright. They would face many obstacles on their journey, and not all of them would leave them unscathed.

The third chapter on ao3 was sooo awesome!! Ricks daughter getting separated from them at the farm is such a cool idea and it’s gonna create so much conflict eventually when they meet again! Her thinking they abandoned her and everything! So so good.

I’m so curious about Rick and Delilah’s relationship, he and Carl were so close but we didn’t see much of her and Rick! It’s gonna be very interesting when we eventually get to Alexandria

Can’t wait to read more of this, really love it!

i love you anonymus! i really appreciate your support, especially since i wasn't sure about this story <3

Home Is Where The Heart Is | Negan Smith

check the other parts here!

Summary:

There is no longer a home, no place of comfort in that world. One survives to live, risking life to move forward and protect one's people.

But there are always two sides of the same coin. So, is the villain truly the villain? Or is He just the villain in your story?

Pairing: Negan Smith x reader

Word Count: 5.8k

No Heaven, Only Trouble

"We can’t do this!" Delilah dropped into a chair by the campfire. "As much as I find it disturbing, it's not our place, nor our decision to make."

The group fell into silence. Some agreed with the young girl, others did not. Hours had passed since they discovered the barn, and the peace they'd briefly found had vanished into thin air. Lori held Carl close, staring at the flames dancing before her eyes.

She looked up to meet her eldest daughter’s gaze, stifling a sigh when she found nothing in them. She was worried about Delilah—worried because the once vibrant teenager, full of life and promise, had lost her spark, her expression now empty and blank.

But what she hated the most was that, due to wrong choices, the mother-daughter bond was lost forever. She could no longer comfort her. Delilah pushed her away.

Carl was the only one who still seemed to love her unconditionally. Lori fought back tears, closing her eyes and resting her head on Carl's, gently stroking his back while the group resumed their heated debate.

"We’re not safe! We have to do something, or those doors will give way, and in the middle of the night, we’ll be torn apart by the dead."

Delilah’s patience was wearing thin. Lately, she felt like she was losing her mind. "Shane, does anything I say go in one ear and out the other? Damn it! We can’t just do whatever the hell we want, especially when Hershel wants us out of here as soon as possible!"

Shane turned to her, furious. "You have no right to make decisions, kid. These are adult matters! You can’t understand what’s best for the group. If we followed your idea, we'd all be dead by tomorrow morning!"

"Stop!" Dale stood up, stepping between them. "There’s no need to get worked up. We have to stay united," he sighed, taking off his hat and running a hand through what little hair remained.

Shane, still furious, sat down on one of the logs. The silence that settled over the group only made Delilah more anxious. She glanced around, trying to calm herself. She knew that snapping back at Shane, especially in his current state, wouldn’t lead to anything productive, so she bit her tongue, forcing herself to think about something else.

She reached out to stroke Orion, who was sleeping next to her chair.

After a long silence, Rick stood up and headed toward the house. No one asked him what he was going to do; instead, they all remained in their places as if any movement might spell disaster.

Delilah fixated on the flames, watching their mesmerizing dance. If she concentrated hard enough, she could make out shapes moving hypnotically within the fire.

And that’s how she fell asleep—watching the figures dance in the flames, while Orion curled up on her lap, shielding her from the early November chill. The days had grown short, colder, and the group's concern was how they'd keep warm if Hershel refused to let them into the house.

"What the hell are you doing?" Delilah jolted awake, jumping out of her chair. The sudden movement sent sharp pain through her stiff muscles. The brief peace and tranquility she'd enjoyed while half-asleep vanished as the surrounding noise rushed back to her all at once.

Orion, still sounding like a puppy, began barking at the distant commotion and his owner’s sudden movement. Delilah looked around, confused, until she spotted her group rushing toward the barn in the distance, beyond the fence.

What she saw next confused her even more. "What the hell..." She shook off her drowsiness and sprinted toward the group, now gathered in front of a chilling scene that sent a shiver down her spine.

Her father was leading a walker on a leash.

She couldn't hear the conversation yet, still too far away, with Orion following closely behind her. Her heart pounded wildly as she saw Shane pull out a gun and shoot the walker her father was leading, right in the head.

Delilah froze in her tracks, watching the scene unfold before her eyes.

The cold, dry November air clung to her skin, her breath quick and shallow as she watched an old family friend open the barn doors, releasing a small herd of walkers into the open.

Shane was the first to open fire. Moments later, Andrea grabbed a rifle, and a few others followed suit, taking the same initiative to finally put down those who the Greene family had once considered part of them.

Delilah wanted to feel something—anything—when Beth’s screams pierced the air, or when she saw the blonde girl lay down beside the body she believed to be her mother, clinging to the last shred of hope that these people could somehow return to who they once were.

But what made Delilah’s breath catch wasn’t Beth’s cries or the moment the body beside her tried to bite her. It was when the entire group’s attention snapped back toward the barn doors.

She wanted to join them, to cross the fence and hear what they were saying, to better understand what was happening. She bent down to scoop up Orion when he began whimpering and trembling, holding him tightly in her arms as another wail of despair cut through the air.

This time, it was Carol who collapsed to the ground, falling to her knees, supported by Lori. The group blocked Delilah’s view, preventing her from seeing what had caused such a reaction in the woman who was already so broken by life.

But maybe it was something Delilah didn’t want to see.

The apocalypse had changed her, just as it had changed everyone. It had hardened her, made her more pessimistic, perhaps even more indifferent than she’d been before the world fell apart. Yet, when she saw the fragile figure emerge from the barn, she felt a sharp pain in her chest.

Sophia, or what remained of her, limped out of the half-open door. The once youthful, terrified face had been reduced to decaying flesh, slowly rotting away.

Delilah didn’t want to imagine what the scene looked like up close because, even from this distance, she could see how badly the young girl had deteriorated. Carol’s sobs grew louder, not stopping until Delilah’s father, after glancing around for a moment, approached Sophia and placed the barrel of his gun to the back of her head.

A single gunshot echoed across the field, startling Orion in her arms.

When Delilah saw Carol break free from Lori’s embrace and rush to her daughter’s lifeless body, she turned away, heading back to her small spot by the fire, unable to watch the heartbreaking scene of a mother grieving over her child.

Lately, Delilah’s coping mechanism seemed to be avoidance. She no longer asked questions or involved herself in conversations, especially after her last argument with Shane. As the days went by, she spoke less and less, often spending entire days in the company of Orion, and occasionally, Carl.

Carl. Delilah had noticed his change too—a preteen forced to survive in a world like this for months. What worried her wasn’t that he was in danger—she knew Carl was tough—but that he might be shutting down emotionally, just like she was.

Since Sophia's official death, Carl had become cold toward everyone. He no longer spoke to Shane and avoided his presence altogether, snapping back at Lori and acting in ways that were entirely unlike him.

Delilah had always been good at observing people, and recently, it seemed like that was all she could do. Tensions were at an all-time high since the barn incident, and she was exhausted—exhausted by the awful situation, tired of the people around her, and weary at the thought of having to find another place to stay once her father and Glenn returned with Hershel.

Yet, perhaps she wasn’t as observant as she thought, because she hadn’t noticed Shane leave, nor had she seen him return with her mother until they parked. Confused, Delilah got up from her chair and approached them.

Andrea immediately rushed to hug Lori. "Oh my God, are you okay? We were so worried!"

Delilah eyed her mother warily before stepping aside when Carl elbowed past her to run into Lori’s arms. She lifted him off the ground, holding him tightly. "Yes, I’m fine. I was in an accident."

"She was attacked," Shane corrected, standing uncomfortably close to Lori, much to Delilah’s displeasure. Lori rolled her eyes, setting Carl back on the ground before glancing around, searching for someone in the small crowd that had gathered.

"I’m fine. Really. Where’s Rick?" she asked, worry filling her voice when she didn’t see him. She looked at Andrea, then at Maggie, who had stepped out of the house to check on the situation.

Her gaze finally landed on Delilah, distant and unfocused, as if she were looking at her from far away. "Haven’t they come back yet?"

"Not yet," Delilah replied, pulling her red leather jacket tighter around herself and stifling a yawn.

Not in the mood to stand around waiting for her father and Glenn to return, Delilah turned on her heel, ready to head back to the makeshift camp. But she was stopped by the sound of her mother’s frustrated, angry voice.

"You bastard."

"Lori—"

"He’s my husband!" she shouted, shoving Shane. The small group watched, confused and on edge, ready to intervene if Shane reacted poorly.

"Lori, I’ll go look for him!" Shane’s raised voice drew out the rest of the Greene family from the house, all of them watching nervously, fearing there was some imminent danger.

What none of them seemed to realize was that the danger was already right in front of them—one of their own. Dale glanced at Delilah, then back at the escalating scene before them.

Delilah’s body flooded with rage when Shane grabbed her mother’s arm, causing Lori to wince from the force of his grip. Before she could think, Delilah launched herself at him, grabbing his arm.

"Don’t you dare touch her, you asshole!" she growled through clenched teeth, but within seconds, she found herself on the ground. The left side of her face stung sharply, like an injection, and her ear rang for a few seconds, disorienting her. It all happened so quickly that Delilah didn’t even realize what had hit her, though hearing her mother’s screams and the shock from those around her made it easy to figure out.

A metallic taste filled her mouth as a pair of hands helped her up to her knees. Her mother knelt in front of her, reaching for her face, but Delilah recoiled, a sharp pain shooting through her left side.

"Get away," Lori snarled at someone behind her daughter. Footsteps retreated from the scene. "Are you okay, honey? I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry," she whispered in Delilah’s ear, wrapping her arms around her and stroking her hair, just as she had when Delilah was little.

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

In the fading light of late afternoon, the room was enveloped in a heavy, almost palpable silence. The old Dale crouched slowly toward Lori, holding a damp cloth. Her face, marked with faint scratches from the incident earlier, was fixed on Delilah, who in turn glanced at Carl standing beside her, his face tight with worry.

At twelve years old, Carl’s large, innocent eyes, which had already seen too much, betrayed a barely concealed anxiety. He kept his gaze fixed on his mother, trying to be strong as if his mere presence could ease Lori’s pain. 

“Don’t worry, Carl,” Lori murmured as Dale handed her the cloth so she could gently tend to her wounds herself. “It’s nothing serious.”

Carl nodded, but his expression remained unconvinced. He watched every move Lori made, as though fearing that even a slight touch could cause her more harm. Lori attempted to smile at him, but the tension in the air made any reassurance seem inadequate.

His eyes darted from his mother to his older sister, who sat across from him in an armchair, her expression betraying nothing. Delilah watched the scene with her arms crossed, her face flushed with the lingering anger from the earlier argument. Her irritation was not just for Lori, but for herself as well. Shane had hit her—a family friend she had once considered almost like an uncle. Her mind replayed the moment she had tried to intervene, to stop the explosive argument, and the violent response she received in return.

She had known Shane was a danger for a long time, but the fact that he had escalated to hitting her was a different matter. Shane was a ticking time bomb, and the moment when he would explode seemed closer than ever.

The silence between them was thick, and Carl couldn’t help but notice the palpable tension emanating from his older sister. He moved closer to Lori and took her hand, a simple gesture that seemed to promise his unwavering support.

Lori sighed slightly, drawing everyone’s attention. “I can’t believe Shane would do something like this,” she said finally, her voice heavy with bitterness.

“He’ll do worse,” Delilah snapped, lifting her gaze to meet her mother’s eyes. Her voice was sharp, brimming with barely contained rage. She couldn’t understand whether Lori was truly blind to Shane’s danger or too infatuated with him to see it. “He’s a threat. One of these days, he’ll do something that gets us all killed.”

Lori fell silent for a moment, her expression strained but composed. She tried to maintain a facade of calm, but the tension between them was undeniable, and Delilah could sense it. Carl, meanwhile, had not taken his eyes off his mother, his face reflecting the weight of something he didn’t fully understand.

Dale looked up from his task, his wise and weary eyes meeting Delilah’s. There was no need for words between them. Delilah knew he understood, that he shared her concerns. There was a silent understanding between them, a bond forged over time, perhaps because Dale had never been as naive as Lori seemed to be.

“Shane has his issues,” Dale said slowly, his voice calm but with a gravity that left no room for disagreement. The tone, though measured, was a warning. “But hitting someone… that’s not justifiable.”

Delilah pressed her lips together, her heart pounding. That wasn’t the point, not entirely. “It’s not just that, Dale,” she said, her voice trembling with the intensity of her emotions. “Shane is unstable. He always seems on the verge of… exploding. You can’t tell me you don’t see that too.”

Lori clenched her hands, trying to stay in control. “Delilah, it’s not that simple—”

“Yes, it is!” Delilah interrupted, her words flowing like a flood. “Lori, you refuse to see it. You want to protect everyone, but he’s a ticking time bomb, and when he explodes… we won’t be ready.”

Carl lowered his gaze, visibly shaken by his sister’s harsh words, and Lori seemed about to respond, but it was Dale who spoke up before another argument could erupt.

Delilah’s words had clearly hurt Lori, who had realized she had lost her child the moment she called her by name.

“Delilah is right about one thing,” Dale said slowly, locking eyes with Lori. “Shane is going through a rough patch, and if we’re not careful, that rough patch could become dangerous for all of us.”

Lori closed her eyes for a moment, the weight of Dale’s and Delilah’s words pressing down on her like a stone. When she opened them again, she seemed more weary. “I won’t let him hurt anyone,” she finally said, her voice low but firm. “I’ll handle it.”

The girl couldn’t hold back a laugh. “Oh really? And how?” Delilah’s tone was sharp, biting—nothing good could come from it. “I’m not sure your approach is quite suitable right now, don’t you think?”

A heavy silence filled the room, broken only by the distant ticking of a clock. Dale looked down at the floor for a moment before slowly rising, as if his bones were burdened with unbearable weight. He exited the room, unwilling to participate in the family argument he had tried to avoid.

“Delilah—”

“No!” she exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air and leaping out of the chair. “No! You can’t say anything! You’re putting yourself and Carl in danger just because you can’t control yourself! None of this would have happened if you hadn’t gotten so close to him in a moment of weakness!”

Lori’s eyes filled with tears, humiliated by her daughter’s words. But the harshness didn’t stop there. “Because that’s what you are. Weak.” Delilah jabbed her finger at Lori’s chest before storming out of the room, her anger surging through her veins as she slammed the front door behind her, ignoring Orion’s cheerful greeting on the porch.

She sat on the porch steps, stroking Orion’s soft fur and shivering as she heard footsteps approaching, too familiar to ignore. She didn’t need to look up to know who it was. Shane stopped briefly in front of her before passing by without a word and entering the house.

She watched him go, the door closing behind him, and made herself a promise. 

If Shane wasn’t dead by the end of the weekend, she would ensure it herself. And that’s how she fell asleep, plotting the death of someone who had once been a core part of her life.

The next morning, Delilah woke up still sitting on the porch steps as a car approached and stopped a few meters away from her. It took her a moment to adjust her vision to the sunlight, but as soon as she recognized her father emerging from the car, she sprang to her feet, ignoring the slight dizziness she felt, and rushed to meet him.

Rick enveloped her in his arms, pressing a kiss to her head. "You're here," Delilah whispered against her father's chest, her voice cracking with exhaustion and emotion. For a moment, all the pain, anger, and fear seemed to dissipate. In that instant, she was simply a daughter in her father's arms, finding a safe haven in a world that seemed increasingly unstable.

Rick held her tightly, sensing the tension in her body. He was tired too, weighed down by everything that had been happening, but he tried not to show it. "Everything will be okay," he murmured in a deep, reassuring voice. "I'm back."

Delilah clung to those words, as if they could really bring order to the chaos surrounding them. But deep down, she knew Rick's return wouldn't solve everything. Not with Shane, not with the mounting tensions. Still, in that moment, it didn’t matter.

Within seconds, the sound of the engine and Rick's presence woke the rest of the group. The doors of the house flew open, and those who had been outside rushed to meet them. Lori was the first to arrive, with Carl right behind her, his face a mix of anxiousness and hope. From the porch, Dale descended with a calmer pace, but there was a look of relief in his weary eyes.

Delilah slowly detached herself from Rick's embrace and turned just in time to see Glenn stepping out of the car, visibly exhausted but relieved. He pushed back the sweat-soaked hair from his forehead and gave a nod to the others, a half-smile that couldn’t completely hide his fatigue.

From the passenger seat, Hershel emerged more slowly. His gnarled hands braced against the doorframe for leverage as he climbed out with a serious but determined expression. The journey seemed to have taken its toll on him, but his confident gaze at Rick and the others spoke of his commitment to help, just as he always had.

Lori moved closer to Rick and hugged him tightly, while Carl clung to his father's jacket, seeking comfort. "You found Hershel," Lori murmured, her voice a mix of relief and concern.

Rick nodded, looking intently at his wife. "Yes, he's with us. We have a lot to discuss."

Glenn approached Delilah, giving her a light pat on the shoulder, a silent gesture of support. "Everything okay here?" he asked softly, noticing the faint bruise forming on her cheek, though his attentive gaze sought answers in the expressions of those who had stayed behind.

As Rick tried to recover from the intensity of the moment and Hershel approached slowly with Glenn by his side, a growing tension began to permeate the group. Lori, Dale, and Carl exchanged questioning glances, noting that Rick, Glenn, and Hershel seemed more worried than expected.

It was Delilah who first noticed something strange. The car trunk wasn’t completely closed, and a faint vibration was coming from inside. She moved closer, her heart pounding in her chest. As she reached for the trunk to open it fully, Glenn tried to stop her with a quick "Wait!" — but it was too late.

The trunk swung open entirely, revealing a young man inside, bound and with a dirty cloth around his mouth. His eyes were wide with terror, and he struggled weakly to free himself. Delilah took a step back in shock, and in an instant, the rest of the group gathered around the trunk, their faces a mix of disbelief and concern.

“Who the hell is this?” Dale asked, his voice rough and incredulous, his face etched with concern.

Rick stepped forward, his expression tight. “His name is Randall,” he said, keeping his gaze fixed on the young prisoner.

Lori’s voice was filled with disbelief. “Rick, what’s going on?”

Hershel spoke up, calm but with a serious tone. “He was involved in a bad incident; we had to help him… but the problem is, he’s not alone.”

Delilah stared at the young man, her heart pounding even harder. “What do you mean? Where does he come from?”

Glenn cleared his throat, searching for the right words. “He’s from a group… an armed group. We don’t know how many there are or where they are exactly, but we have reason to believe they could be dangerous.”

Carl, who had been silent until then, stepped forward, looking at Randall with wide eyes. “And what are we going to do with him?” he asked, his voice full of curiosity as he watched the young man lose consciousness.

Rick clenched his jaw. “We need to decide. We can’t just let him go without knowing if he’ll bring his group here.”

A heavy silence fell over the group. Each member looked at Randall, but also at each other, searching for answers that no one seemed ready to give.

In the living room of the house, the atmosphere was charged with tension. Everyone had gathered around the central table, except for Delilah, who stood in a corner of the room with her arms crossed and her gaze fixed on the group.

Her father’s face was marked by worry, while Rick took his place at the center, his expression grave.

Randall had been locked in the cabin a short distance from the house, at a safe distance, after Hershel had to tend to a deep wound that wouldn’t stop bleeding.

“We can’t let him go,” Rick said firmly, breaking the silence. His tone was authoritative but heavy with responsibility. “If we do, he might return to his group and lead them here. We don’t know how many there are or what they’re capable of.”

Glenn, sitting next to him, nodded. “Rick’s right. We can’t take the risk. His group could kill us all. We need to think about our safety.”

“The bar, in town,” the old man began, “we heard them talking. They seem to be a large, disorganized group. We can’t underestimate them.”

Dale clasped his hands, his face pale with anxiety. “But we can’t kill him. We can’t... become like that,” he said, his voice trembling yet resolute. He looked at Rick with intensity, as if searching for a shred of humanity in this desperate situation. “There’s always another solution.”

“What solution, Dale?” Shane interjected, leaning against the wall, his gaze fixed defiantly on Rick. “There’s no time for half measures. This kid knows where the farm is. If we let him go, it’s only a matter of time before he returns with armed men. We need to do what’s necessary.”

Lori, sitting next to her husband, removed her hand from her mouth and looked at Shane in confusion. “How do you know that?”

Rick looked to Hershel, the head of the household, waiting for him to confirm what he had told them in the car. “Randall knows our family, or at least he knows Beth and where she lives. They went to school together and he’s from the area. It didn’t take him long to recognize me despite the severe blood loss.”

Delilah, in the corner of the room, followed the conversation with keen eyes, saying nothing. She was there, a silent and invisible presence, but every word echoed in her mind. She bit her lower lip, her hands pressed tightly against her chest. Shane, as always, was direct, but there was something unsettling in his manner. It wasn’t just concern for safety. It was something darker.

It was a thirst for control and power over everything and everyone.

Dale raised his hand, cutting through the argument. “Hold on a minute.” His voice was calm but laden with a wisdom that could not be ignored. “We can’t make a decision like this so quickly. We’re still human, or at least we should be. Killing this boy... it’s not justifiable. We don’t even know if his group will come looking for him.”

“We can’t afford to make mistakes,” Shane retorted, his tone growing harsher. “Dale, you’re living in the past. We’re not in that world anymore. We need to protect ourselves. We have to be realistic.”

Then T-Dog spoke up, his voice low but resolute. “Maybe we can find a remote place and leave him there. Without means to return or dangerous weapons. We give him a chance, but not enough to pose a threat.”

Rick considered those words for a moment, but Shane shook his head in disapproval. “That’s just another waste of time. He could still survive and come back with others.”

The debate continued, with voices rising, creating a whirlwind of conflicting emotions.

Delilah, however, remained silent, watching the chaos unfold before her. Inside, she felt a mix of fear and anger. Her heart pounded harder every time Shane spoke. There was something wrong with him, something that made her increasingly uneasy.

Eventually, Rick stood up from his chair, his decision etched on his drawn face. “We’ll decide tomorrow morning,” he said with a firm tone, looking at each of them. “Tonight, we keep him locked up. No one does anything until we’re all in agreement.”

The voices quieted, but the atmosphere in the room remained tense, as if an inexorable time bomb was ticking away.

The next day arrived with an eerie stillness. The morning air was crisp, but there was a palpable tension hanging over the house. 

No one had slept well, and each step seemed heavier than usual, laden with the weight of the decisions they had to face. The sunlight filtered hesitantly through the windows, almost reluctant to illuminate the scene that was about to unfold.

In the living room, Rick, Lori, Shane, Dale, Glenn, and Hershel had gathered again. Delilah was already there, as she had been the night before, seated in the corner and watching in silence.

She had spent the night in a state of wakefulness, her thoughts in turmoil. The idea that everything was on the verge of collapsing wouldn’t leave her mind. And damn, if her intuition wasn’t spot on.

Rick was the first to speak, his voice heavy and resolute. “We’ve all had time to think about this,” he said, looking at each face present. “We can’t ignore the risk. Randall knows our location, knows where we are. But we can’t make a decision without considering the consequences.”

Shane, who had never had much patience for long discussions, stood up abruptly, shaking his head. “We’ve already talked enough, Rick. Randall has to die. End of story. If we let him go, we’re all dead. He’s a threat, and you know it.”

Dale, as he had the day before, raised his hand to stop Shane. “Hold on, Shane. Killing a kid like this, in cold blood... we can’t do it. It would make us monsters. We need to find an alternative.”

The tension between the two men was palpable, as if each word could spark a dangerous flashpoint. Rick looked between them, trying to find a balance between their positions. But it was clear that the decision was wearing him down.

Delilah was exhausted. Exhausted by the arguments, the increasingly difficult moral choices, the people around her who seemed incapable of seeing what was really happening. It was as if no one wanted to admit that, in the end, they had all changed. Their humanity was fragile, hanging by a thread, and she no longer knew what to cling to.

She slowly stood up from her chair in the corner of the room, trying not to draw attention. No one noticed her movement. They were all too engrossed in discussing Randall, the risk he posed, and what they should do.

Delilah quietly slipped out the door, closing it softly behind her. She took a deep breath, savoring the fresh morning air. A day away from it all. She needed to escape, even if just for a few hours.

Outside, Orion was waiting for her. She petted him on the head, feeling his soft fur between her fingers. “Let’s go, buddy,” she whispered, and together they headed towards the woods surrounding the Greene farm.

The sun climbed high in the sky as Delilah walked through the forest, finally feeling some semblance of peace. The leaves crunched under her feet, and the wind rustled the trees above her. Orion ran ahead, exploring, his tongue lolling out in excitement. 

Delilah no longer thought about the tension in the house. She no longer thought about Shane, Rick, or the moral dilemma regarding Randall. She was alone, at least for a while, and that was enough.

She spent the day wandering aimlessly, following the winding trails of the woods. She sat by a stream to drink some water, watching Orion play with the stones in the water. Time seemed to stand still.

But as the sun began to set, an odd sensation crossed her skin. A sudden shiver. She looked around, noticing the forest growing darker, and with it, a sense of danger seeped into her heart.

“It’s time to go back,” Delilah whispered, her voice almost breaking the silence around her. Orion, her loyal pup, followed immediately, but there was something strange in the air. Something... wrong.

Every step she took towards the farm seemed heavier, as if the forest itself were closing in on her. The familiar sounds of the wind through the leaves had changed. There were no birds singing anymore, only the unsettling rustling of branches.

The air had grown thick, suffocating. Then she heard it: a low, guttural groan. Her blood ran cold. It was a sound she knew all too well.

She froze, her heart pounding in her chest. A walker.

Without thinking, she began to walk faster, trying to hold back the panic rising within her like a dark wave. Her steps quickened, but not fast enough.

Another groan. This time, it was closer. Too close. Orion began to growl, his hackles raised. Delilah spun around, and what she saw took her breath away: two walkers were emerging from the trees, their grotesque, twisted forms illuminated by the last rays of the dying sun.

Terror struck her like a punch to the stomach. "Run!" she screamed internally, but the voice in her head sounded too weak, smothered by horror. With Orion by her side, she started to run, but the ghastly groans of the walkers never ceased. Each step felt more arduous, more painful. The sound of the walkers dragging through the dry branches was an unshakable nightmare.

Her heart pounded so violently she feared it might burst. She leaped over tangled roots, dodged branches whipping her face, but the walkers never stopped. They were slow, yes, but relentless. Every time she looked back, they were there, getting closer. Their twisted hands reached out toward her, hungry for flesh.

When she finally glimpsed the farmhouse in the distance, relief swiftly turned to horror. Flames. She saw them even from afar, enormous and voracious. The tongues of fire enveloped the house, consuming everything.

Her breath caught in her throat, and her legs trembled. "Dad!" she cried out in desperation, but her voice was swallowed by the crackling flames. "Lori! Carl!" No response. Only the chilling sound of the fire devouring everything and the hissing wind carrying the acrid smell of ash.

Delilah ran, ignoring the pain burning her muscles and the tight knot in her chest. When she reached the yard, the scene that greeted her was worse than any nightmare.

Walkers wandered amidst the flames, stumbling like infernal shadows, grotesque and made more monstrous by the firelight. The farmhouse was devastated. There was no one. No sign of the group. Only destruction and death.

Orion barked furiously, trying to keep the walkers at bay, but Delilah couldn’t focus. The world around her was a distorted chaos. Where was her father? Where was Lori? What the hell had happened?

She searched desperately through the debris, her hands trembling as she rummaged through the charred remains. Every corner of the farmhouse was a heap of wreckage. The barns had collapsed, and the animals were gone. Smoke burned her throat; each breath felt like a fiery assault on her lungs.

But what was most suffocating of all was the silence. An eerie silence, broken only by the guttural sounds of the walkers and the relentless crackle of the flames. She was alone. Completely alone.

Orion continued to growl, but Delilah could no longer think clearly. The horror, fear, and anguish overwhelmed her. As the flames grew higher and the walkers drew nearer, she realized that this world had collapsed. There was nothing left. Nothing and no one.

She looked around with the dreadful awareness that she would die there, in that moment, if she didn't leave, but she couldn't risk abandoning her family behind. Assuming they were still alive.

She tried calling out their names again, but to no avail. Until she heard the distant rumble of an engine.

For half a second, a huge smile spread across her face, comforted by not being left behind, until she saw the camper heading in the opposite direction. She screamed at the top of her lungs, running towards the camper and waving frantically to be seen, but the white vehicle just accelerated away.

They had abandoned her.

Now, it was just her, the fire, and the encroaching darkness.