The Walking Dead Fanfic: "The Sun Rises"
I belong to writetomyheart on Dreamwidth and my name just came up for my turn to write, which I thought was kind of funny because I literally just mentioned how I hardly write anymore. But one of my goals for 2023 is to write more, so this is perfect timing!
The challenge of WTMH is to use the last words of the person before you to start your fic. My words were "the sun rises."
Fandom: The Walking Dead
Characters: Daryl
Timeframe: Post-Grady.
Word Count: 300
The Sun Rises
by Severina
The sun rises, and the others stir, and the floorboards squeak as someone (Rick) sidles to the broken window and looks down onto the street from his second story perch and curses long and slow. And it would normally be Daryl who gets up (who is already up) and who takes out a half dozen of the dead, leaning out of the window and keeping his breath and his arm steady and wondering how many of the bolts he's going to have to give up as lost when they leave this place and have to dodge the remaining dead, how many hours he's going to have to spend carving and fletching to replace his stock.
But not this morning. Today, Daryl hunches his shoulders and shifts his body into the wall and pretends he doesn't hear Carl doling out the stale breakfast bars they found two days ago in the trunk of an Impala incongruently abandoned in the middle of dense brush miles from anything remotely resembling a paved road, like some kind of strange modern art installation. Today, he lets Michonne and Rick huddle together and make whispered escape plans, and pretends he can't hear Glenn murmuring to Maggie as she cries.
He squints his eyes against the intrusive light and ignores the rustle of movement around him. Pretends that there was no Terminus, no train cars. No run through the streets as an undead horde closed in. No hospital.
There is only an empty funeral home, and a piano, and a soft voice singing him to sleep. There is only a half-written thank you note and a suggestion and the hint of a promise. There is Beth, smiling as he carries her to the table, and not a dead weight in his arms and endless nights without her.
.
The challenge of WTMH is to use the last words of the person before you to start your fic. My words were "the sun rises."
Fandom: The Walking Dead
Characters: Daryl
Timeframe: Post-Grady.
Word Count: 300
The Sun Rises
by Severina
The sun rises, and the others stir, and the floorboards squeak as someone (Rick) sidles to the broken window and looks down onto the street from his second story perch and curses long and slow. And it would normally be Daryl who gets up (who is already up) and who takes out a half dozen of the dead, leaning out of the window and keeping his breath and his arm steady and wondering how many of the bolts he's going to have to give up as lost when they leave this place and have to dodge the remaining dead, how many hours he's going to have to spend carving and fletching to replace his stock.
But not this morning. Today, Daryl hunches his shoulders and shifts his body into the wall and pretends he doesn't hear Carl doling out the stale breakfast bars they found two days ago in the trunk of an Impala incongruently abandoned in the middle of dense brush miles from anything remotely resembling a paved road, like some kind of strange modern art installation. Today, he lets Michonne and Rick huddle together and make whispered escape plans, and pretends he can't hear Glenn murmuring to Maggie as she cries.
He squints his eyes against the intrusive light and ignores the rustle of movement around him. Pretends that there was no Terminus, no train cars. No run through the streets as an undead horde closed in. No hospital.
There is only an empty funeral home, and a piano, and a soft voice singing him to sleep. There is only a half-written thank you note and a suggestion and the hint of a promise. There is Beth, smiling as he carries her to the table, and not a dead weight in his arms and endless nights without her.
.