"Paul Rovia. But my friends call me Jesus." He extended his hand to help me stand back up, a big smile on his face. "We have a camp. Not far from here. The Hilltop Colony. You'll be safe there, and there's lots of other people."

You look this guy up and down; skeptical. "Let me get this straight," You raise your gun again, "You come out of nowhere, knock me on my ass, and then expect me to just go with you to who knows where?"

He nodded. "Yes."

You considered it briefly. It wasn't like you had many options. You reached out and shook his hand. "I'm going to call you Paul, though. 'Jesus' is too sacrilegious for me. I was raised Catholic."

"You comin or not?" Daryl yelled from outside.

"Don't get your panties in a bunch, Dixon!" You yell back, trying to pull your boot on and walk down the front steps at the same time.

"Keep talkin like that and ya can't have none of this." He dangled a six pack of beer in front of your face.

"I'll talk however I want, and I'll still get beer." You playfully jabbed him in the ribs and stole the six-pack while he was distracted. "See?"

"Yer dead!" He smiled and lunged forward.

"Don't start fights you can't finish, Dixon!" You yell, running off into the woods.

The dream ended there. You were suddenly awake, lying in your bed, listening to the sounds of the early morning at Hilltop. There was someone knocking on your door, and you groaned and turned over, willing the memory to come back.

The knocking was still there. "What?" You groaned.

"You're supposed to help me milk the cows this morning. Remember?"

Shit. It was Fran. You hated working with her. She never shut up. You never missed Daryl Dixon's stony silence more than when you had to do a chore with Fran. "Yeah, I'm coming. Just give me a minute." You roll out of bed, shaking the cobwebs from your head, and began to get dressed.

You ran through the woods at full speed and finally crashed right into the creek. Daryl was right behind you, not missing a beat as he barreled through the cold water right at you.

You yell out as he picks you up and throws you over his shoulder. "Truce!" You're afraid he's going to drop you in the water, but he sets you down instead.

Daryl swiped the beer out of your hands. "Don't start fights you can't finish." He pulled a can off the plastic carrier as you both sloshed your way to dry land. You found a sunny spot in a clearing and collapsed into the grass, opening the can with a 'hiss'.

You follow Fran into the makeshift barn where the cows were kept. Sighing, you pick up a few pails and the broken one you use as a milking stool. Fran started going on about who knows what. You never knew what that woman was talking about; it's like she forgot there's an apocalypse and still thinks there's celebrity gossip worthy of chatting about. It's as if all the celebrities weren't dead in her mind.

"You'll miss me when I go away in the fall." You said, breaking the comfortable silence between the two of you as you lay in the clearing sunning yourselves.

"Yeah." You expected him to deny it, so this clear admission of thoughts and inner feelings shocked you a bit. "Won't be the same round here."

"You'll just have Merle to hang out with."

"Don't remind me." Daryl slung a scrawny arm over his face.

You reached down and took his other hand in yours. "You could come with me?"

Daryl just shook his head. "I'd never get into a fancy college like you."

"You could just move to the city with me. I hear Atlanta's nice. And you could open a mechanic shop or sumthin."

"Nah." He lolled his head to the side to look at you. "Merle and me are gonna figure sumthin out." It was quiet for a bit. "Just don't forget bout me when you make new friends and have bigger adventures."

"I could never forget about you, Daryl."

"Y/N!" You snap out of it when you hear Fran yelling at you.

"Yeah?"

"I've been saying your name for quite a while now. Where'd you go just now?"

You shrug. "Nowhere."

"Hey, guys. Jesus is back." Scott came around the corner and into the barn. "He got back about an hour ago. I don't think he brought supplies, though. But he did bring a lot of people."

"Should we check it out?" You ask, brushing my hands on your jeans and standing.

"Go without me." Fran said, moving milk pails away from the cows. "I'm not too keen on meeting new people. Not after Negan's group."

You shrug. "Suit yourself." You wandered over to the main house, waving to Hilltop people that called out 'good mornings', just to be polite.

"I don't leave for another few weeks." You say, upset and sad and angry.

Daryl shrugged. "But you're leavin. What's the difference between us sayin good-bye now or then?"

"The difference is that you're cuttin our time short!"

"I told ya. Merle thinks he found us some work or sumthin. So, we're heading a little further south. He wants to go now."

"You can't."

Finally, you get to the old mansion and pull open one of the doors. "Hey, Paul," You call out as you go inside, "I heard you brought people instead of my toothpaste!"

The group was right inside the door when you stepped in. They were all staring at you, hair dripping from the forced shower Gregory probably made them take. "Oh, hi." You wave.

There was a beat of silence. "Hi." The red-haired man was the only one that spoke.

"I'm Y/N." You shift your weight awkwardly. "Welcome to Hilltop."

"We're not staying." The one with a full brown beard said roughly.

"Well, whether you're staying or not, wel—" You broke off mid-sentence as movement caught your eye from the top of the staircase. "Oh my god." You practically screamed.

The look of shock and relief on your face probably looked more like "terror", and the group probably expected to see a walker on the stairs when they turned around to follow your line of sight. But, instead of a walker, they only saw Daryl Dixon rooted to his spot on the staircase, the same look of shock and relief playing on his features. The air seemed to be sucked out of the room and for a beat, no one moved.

Then, Daryl was flying down the staircase at top speed as your knees gave out and you started to cry. He caught you and enveloped you in the same hug he'd given you after your boyfriend cheated on you. "I thought you were dead." He said, quietly. "Merle and I went to your house after the outbreak, but it was trashed."

You nod. "I left in a hurry. I wanted to try to find you."

He let go of you finally, and wiped the tears from your cheeks. "Don't go cryin on me now, girl." You both started to laugh.

"You know her?" A woman with brown hair asked, and you were both suddenly conscious of the fact that there were other people in the room.

"Yeah. This is Y/N. We've been friends since we were little." Daryl clapped his hand on your back a little harder than he probably meant to.

You looked him up and down and said, "Yeah, and it looks like not much changed since then. You're still a punk." You smirked at him, digging into his side with your pointer finger.

"Don't start nuthin' ya can't finish." He laughed, picked you up, and slung you over his shoulder. "I'm still stronger than ya."

"Truce!" You call out, just like old times, and it gets you set back on the ground. Everyone in the group was gaping at you two. "Why are they staring at us like that?" I ask.

"We've just never seen this side of Daryl before." The man with the beard said.

"I can be fun, Rick." Daryl said, trying to frown.

"Damn near playful even," The red-headed man mumbled in surprise.

"Oh, have I got stories for you, then." You nudge Daryl. "Dixon the Younger here was the most fun person I hung out with when I was little."

"Those are stories I want to hear." The brunette woman said.

"Ya ain't gonna hear shit." Daryl said as threateningly as possible.

"Tell you what." You address Rick. "You let me come back to live in your camp with you guys, and I'll tell you any stories you want to hear."

Rick shifted his weight, and almost smiled a bit. "How many walkers have you killed?"

"Too many to keep track."

"How many people have you killed?"

"Two."

"Why?"

"They tried to hurt me."

There was a pause, before Rick nodded and said, "Welcome to the group, Y/N."

"You can't." You repeated again. Then, you stepped forward and placed a soft kiss on his lips. "I love you."

There was only sadness in his eyes as Daryl said, "Don't start what ya can't finish."

You leaned your head on your best friend and the only man you've ever truly loved. "I won't start what I can't finish." You whispered, wrapping your arms around his.

He nodded knowingly. "Me neither."

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