𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐒.
chapter forty-one; Call For Mom
" No one's gonna hurt you anymore. "
*TW for attempted SA*

  IT HAD GOTTEN colder, and Zeppelin was thankful she had managed to keep that oversized leather jacket. 

  They'd been moving toward Terminus for a while now, camping out for the night when need be, surviving off of whatever small amounts of food they could find. 

  Zeppelin understood it had started to take a toll on her, but she tried not to complain.

  "Hey."

  Carl joined her side as Zeppelin began setting up in a broken-down truck they had found, while Rick and Michonne worked to start a fire and cook the small rabbit they had caught today.

  "Hey," She greeted, rifling through the glovebox of the vehicle.

  Carl stood back, his hands shoved in his jacket pockets.

  It had never been like this with her. Awkward and too much space between them. He didn't know how to handle it, how to handle not being right there beside her, knowing every thought that passed through her mind.

  "I'm sorry."

  Zeppelin glanced at him, before pocketing a map and shutting the glovebox.

  "I. . . I was angry," He spoke again, "I still am. . . But not at you. And I shouldn't have. . . took it out on you."

  Zeppelin turned to him fully, leaning against the side of the vehicle.

  "I just want us to be friends again," He said weakly.

  "We're always gonna be friends."

  Carl furrowed his brows at her words, unable to form any kind of response to the revelation.

  "Just. . . don't do that again," She mumbled, turning back to the car, "I don't want to be treated like that."

  "I know. I won't."

  He stood there in silence for a moment, watching Zeppelin lay out a thin blanket on one of the seats before tucking her backpack into the floorboard.

  "Good," She said, "Then we can share this candy bar I've been saving."

  Carl grinned as she flashed the bright red wrapper, handing it over to him.

  And so they did, after splitting a rabbit four ways, Carl broke the candy bar in half and gave her the side with more peanuts. They talked about Terminus and the weather and Zeppelin's opinion of Jules Verne until day turned to night and Rick told them they needed sleep.

  Even then, though, as the kids climbed into the front seat of the truck, they talked.

  They talked until Zeppelin's eyes got heavy and she complained of being too cold. Then, Carl gave her his blanket, even though she protested.

  He sighed, in defeat, scooting across the bench seat before layering the blankets on top of both of them.

  Zeppelin did not argue, accepting the small act of warmth as she pressed herself closer to him, her head falling onto his shoulder, sleep coming quickly.

  She wondered if this was what it was like having a brother. Being so angry for days, only to make up and share the same blanket.

  Zeppelin couldn't wonder any further though, because sleep came quickly.

🗡

  Sleep was ripped away from Zeppelin harshly. She heard Carl scream her name before she realized what was happening, attempting to orient herself as she felt arms on her-- what truly struck her from the grog of sleep was being thrown onto the cold, leaf-covered road.

  A scream ripped from her throat as the man attempted to stop her fighting-- she couldn't see anyone. She couldn't see Rick or Michonne or Carl, she didn't know how many men there were or what was happening, or why this man was pinning her to the road.

  What happened? What had she done? Why was he smiling?

  "Rick!" Zeppelin cried, attempting to kick her legs, to move her arms, anything.

  "Let them go," Rick yelled, "You let them go!"

  She heard a gunshot, and for a moment, Zeppelin was sure he was dead.

  The man on top of her only worked quicker, managing to pin her arms above her head, his own body weight keeping her on the ground, unable to fight, unable to move.

  "Mom!"

  Zeppelin didn't know why she called out for her. For all she knew her mother never made it out of the prison.

  "Mom, help me!"

  But rationality did not affect the raw screams that ripped out of Zeppelin William's throat as she fought under the crushing weight of a full-grown man.

  "Mom!"

  She couldn't even see his face. Her vision was blurred with tears, her throat was raw from screaming, her face was hot— was she breathing? Properly or enough— was she going to pass out?

  Would that be better?

  "Please—!"

  A sob wracked her body, interrupting her words, as Zeppelin Williams realized her mother was not there to save her. Not this time.

  Her breathing quickened as she attempted to clear her vision, the man's hands pinned her wrists to the ground, but as he moved one to unbuckle his belt she had a moment.

  Only a moment to save herself from imminent danger.

  She was scared. Hell, she was terrified— but Zeppelin remembered her mother's words from so long ago.

  Bravery is not the absence of fear. It is going on despite it.

  So with shaky hands and a panic in her chest she had never felt before, Zeppelin Williams used all her might to smash her forehead into the man's.

  She was seeing stars— but she could tell his nose was bleeding, and his anger had skyrocketed.

  "You little—"

  Zeppelin's fear washed over her once again, but she managed to grab at the knife in her waistband.

  She was just slashing. She had no aim or reason for where— Zeppelin was crying, screaming— she could hardly breathe as she kept on slashing.

  And once the man retreated in an attempt to cover himself from her attack, Zeppelin lunged after him, her slashes turning into stabs, both hands wrapped around the handle of the knife, lifting it over her head before bringing it down, over, and over, and over again.

  She cried as she killed him. Knowing she was killing him. Knowing it had to be done. Knowing her mother was not coming. Knowing she had to save herself.

  Her panic lurched as arms wrapped around her, attempting to pull her back. The girl kicked and screamed as the knife fell from her fingers, pulling out of the grasp and turning to face the man who had previously held her.

  Daryl felt a sense of deja vu as Zeppelin attempted to fight away from his touch, though he could tell she wasn't attempting to fight him— she was terrified.

  "Zep, hey, it's me," Daryl said softly, pulling his hands back quickly, "You're safe."

The girl attempted to catch her breath, pushing herself against the broken-down car and pulling her knees to her chest.

  "It's me, it's Daryl," He said quietly, his hands raised in surrender, "No one's gonna hurt you anymore."

  And then as her breathing slowed for a moment, Zeppelin's eyes focused on him enough to recognize who was speaking to her.

  So naturally Zeppelin threw her arms around his neck and sobbed into his shoulder.

  Daryl hesitated for a moment, but wrapped his arms around the girl after a moment, gently rubbing a hand on her upper back.

  "Hey, you're okay," Daryl said quietly, "Breathe, Zep."

  She was trying, but man was it difficult.

  "I— I killed—"

  "I know, sweetheart."

  Another sob wracked her body, but it seemed to realign her breathing— quick short breaths turned into deep ragged ones, her muscles relaxing one by one, finally leaning into Daryl, letting him hold her.

  The man looked up as Michonne approached after finishing over the other Claimers. He could see her guilt, too.

  Guilt that no one has managed to get to Zeppelin before she had to do the unthinkable.

  Daryl pulled the bandana from his back pocket, pulling away from Zeppelin only enough to gently wipe away some of the blood spattering her skin.

  "H-- how did you find us?" Zeppelin said quietly, looking up at the man as he held her chin.

  Daryl hesitated, trying to focus on getting the red off of her.

  "Just matters that I did."

  Zeppelin was not in her own mind. Daryl could see that, she was somewhere else entirely as he finished cleaning her face the best he could. She was somewhere safer, happier.

  And then she saw Carl.

  He was the same as her, his mind gone off to happier places leaving a shell in its place.

  But a part of him returned to himself as Zeppelin lurched forward, her body collapsing into his.

  Everyone saw it, saw two small pieces of those kids return after that trauma they had endured side by side. Zeppelin showed it in the way of crying, in the tears that soaked Carl's shoulder. Carl showed it in holding her. In strengthening himself just for a moment for the girl who had been at his side for all of it.

  And Rick Grimes swore he saw something cross his son's face for only a shadow of a moment. Something horrific and familiar. A dangerous kind of care that promised only brutality and violence.

  Rick wondered if it may be genetic.

🗡

  Zeppelin did not sleep well that night. She did not speak or sleep, but she stayed beside Daryl Dixon until the sun rose, tucked under his arm like he would keep the rest of the world away from her.

  She stood on shaky legs once day had broken, Daryl watched her carefully, but let her go as she climbed into the backseat of the truck where Michonne and Carl remained.

  The woman accepted her instantly, allowing Zeppelin to crawl under her free arm, resting against her.

  Zeppelin said nothing, but Michonne could see the way her knuckles whitened overhearing Rick and Daryl's conversation.

  Michonne could see the way Zeppelin could not forgive Daryl for being with those men, even if only for a moment.

  They started walking soon after. They walked and Zeppelin was silent.

  Rick had been worried, deeply concerned, until he saw that Zeppelin had grabbed Carl's hand a mile back and hadn't let go.

  He was still worried. For the both of them. But they had each other, and that made it just a little bit better.

  "Zep," Daryl called, "Hungry?"

  He craned his neck, but Zeppelin stared right past him.

  Daryl looked to Rick, who looked to Michonne.

  "Twinkie?" Michonne said after a moment.

  "I'm not hungry," Zeppelin rasped out, holding Carl's hand tighter.

  Carl squeezed back, reaching into his back pocket. He produced a crumbling protein bar, which Zeppelin accepted after a long moment.

  She could see him breathe in relief as she took a bite.

  "We're gettin' close," Daryl noted as they spotted another Terminus sign, "We'll be there before sundown."

  "Now we head through the woods," Rick said, "We don't know who they are."

  And so they departed from the train tacks, into the thick of the forest, until they reached a chain-link fence.

  Zeppelin's heart climbed to her throat as she spotted the building with big bold letters that read 'Terminus'. 

  Her mother could be inside already, sitting and waiting for her. But could Zeppelin even face her mother? Could she? After everything she had done-- Zeppelin had hardly been able to understand how her mother felt about the murder of Paul, now her mind was swimming.

  Would her mother still think of her the same if she knew? If she knew that Zeppelin had killed someone, all on her own?

  "We all spread out." Rick's voice interrupted her train of thought, "Watch for a while, see what we see, and get ready. We all stay close."

  Zeppelin nodded, readjusting her bow.

  "Come on, Zep."

  The girl looked to Daryl, an unreadable expression on her face.

  But she followed him.

  They walked without words for a while, Zeppelin holding onto her bow like it was a lifeline, Daryl watching her out of the corner of his eye.

"You seen your mom?"

"No."

Daryl frowned, wiping his hands on his thighs.

"I found her tags," He said, "On one of the signs for Terminus. She was headin' here. We'll find her here."

  Zeppelin's head snapped to him, her eyes quickly finding the silver chain around his neck, the tags jingling against the fabric of his shirt.

  "She always wore them under. Tucked in."

  Daryl wasn't sure why it mattered. To her or him. But he lifted a hand and let the chain fall beneath his shirt. Zeppelin nodded, turning to keep walking.

  "Hey, kid. . . We'll find her."

  "I know we will."

  "Then. . . talk to me."

  Zeppelin halted her pace to face him, crossing her arms after a moment.

  "They were your friends."

  "That's—"

  "You were with them," Zeppelin corrected, tilting her head to the side, "Bad people. You were with them."

  Daryl swallowed thickly but nodded after a moment.

  "And you didn't tell me, cause you knew," Zeppelin continued, "They— they tried to kill Rick, they wanted to hurt Michonne and Carl, they wanted to hurt me, I can't— I can't just— just act like you weren't with them."

  "Zeppelin, I didn't know—"

  "Oh, bullshit," Zeppelin scoffed, shocking the man, "If you didn't know it's because you didn't want to. You can see a person like that a mile away."

  Daryl knew his hard-earned armor of anger had been stripped away, piece by broken piece, but with Zeppelin staring at him like he was the devil, he realized it was gone entirely.

  She had been part in removing it. Zeppelin and Vex, Beth Greene had only scraped off whatever remained and left him entirely exposed to letting life in.

  But this also meant facing the disappointment and scorn of those that mattered to him.

  "You're not one of them," Zeppelin said, "So start acting like it."

  She glared for another moment, before walking again, and Daryl could do nothing but follow her.

WORD COUNT : 2329