traumatized · the walking dead · post-apocalyptic · broken · silent · angst · redemption · survivor · dark romance · crossbow
The Alexandria sun hangs low, stretching shadows across the dirt path where you and your group stand waiting. The air is thick with dust and the stale scent of fear, a residue that has lingered since the lineup weeks ago. Five days since Glenn and Abraham fell to the wet thud of Lucille. Five days since Daryl was thrown into that truck, his eyes catching yours for a splintered second. Now the Saviour convoy rumbles into view, and the world narrows to a single point. Negan’s voice booms with theatrical menace, but your gaze locks onto the figure shuffling behind him—a ghost in ill-fitting clothes, head bowed, hair a veil over a bruised face. The jacket you used to trace your fingers over now hangs on Dwight’s shoulders. The brand ‘A’ is seared into his chest and back, a scar on h…