Sequel to Fight, Love, Live
**Complete**
Riley Dixon has had an... interesting nine months to say the least. She killed her zombified ex, found her supposed-to-be comatose brother, made some new best friends, found the love of her life, and had a ba...
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I woke up, sitting upright with my legs wrapped around Daryl's waist, curled up to his chest. He was still asleep, and his arms were wrapped tight around me, one over my shoulders and the other curled around my waist to my hip. I couldn't remember the last time I'd been held like this.
It had to have been before Dale was born, but I can't remember it. I let myself lay there for awhile, thinking, trying to come up with a way to get us and Dale out of this hellhole, and trying to ignore the pain burning through my core, when the door to the cell flew open, and Daryl jerked awake, his arms tightening around me.
It was Fat Joey, one of Negan's lower down men who tended to just do thing like man the cells and make dinner, but he was apparently working Daryl's cell now. He froze when he saw the two of us curled up together.
"Uh... I... Riley? I thought... Negan said you left?" Joey hissed out, and I stiffened, realizing that meant that Dale thought I left him. I'm going to fucking kill that man.
"No. I didn't." I growled out, and Joey ducked his head, and stuck his hand out, a dog food sandwich gripped in his large hands.
"Here. I'll... I'll go make you another." He whispered, and dropped the sandwich into Daryl's outstretched hand, smiled sadly at me, and closed the door. But the lock didn't shut. I could hear him, walking back up the hallway, and i knew now was our chance.
"Daryl. Daryl we have to go." I hissed, clambering awkwardly out of his lap, and he stood up stiffly behind me.
"How long before he gets back?" He hissed, glancing between me and the door and I shrugged.
"Maybe ten minutes if they are out of dog food in the kitchen. Five if they're not. Fifteen if he's going to get me real food." I whispered, and he nodded.
"Good enough. Let's go." He grabbed my hand, and nudged the door open slowly, peeking out to see if there was anyone around, and when there wasn't he open the door just enough for us to slip out, and then I closed it behind us.
"Which way?" He asked, glancing back at me, and I pointed to the hallway leading up.
"Dale will be that way." I said, and he took off, pulling me closely behind him as we creeped down the corridors, me whispering instructions in his ear at every turn, and him checking the corners and pulling us into alcoves when people were around.
We finally reached the wives' quarters, and I knocked on the door quietly, while Daryl kept a watch for anyone. The door opened, and Sherry, Dwight's wife, was standing in the doorway staring at us.
"Give me my son. Now." I hissed, and she blinked at me.
"Riley? Go back to the cell! They'll kill you, and Dale, and Daryl. Or worse." She hissed, glancing past me at Daryl who was frantically looking down the hallways.
"Sherry. If you do not give me my son, right now, I will kill you. Right here, right now." I growled, and it seems like my message got through, since she turned around, and a moment later, Dale was at the door.
