The Woman at The End of The World. (Daryl Dixon)

eightysix.

I let Jesus go. He accepts, understanding that I need to have this moment with the older woman. I stand in front of Carol. I smile through the tears, pulling her close, "thank you." I whisper in her ear. Our scars are very similar. Once upon a time, she got to defeat her devil with the help of a walker. She knows exactly what is going through my mind without verbalizing it.

She sets her hands on my face, our souls sharing a conversation that doesn't need to be out in the open. Both of us smiling and crying at the biggest victory I got under my belt. "He should've known better than to fuck with our little firecracker." I gasp at her reference from a conversation her, Rick, Glenn, and I shared at the farm a lifetime ago. "I knew you could do it." Her eyes search my face without letting go, "now let's get you to Siddiq."

I place my hand over hers, squeezing, "Carol, I love you."

She chuckles, placing a kiss to my forehead, "I love you, too."

Carol steps out of the way, when Ezekiel materializes in the empty spot in front of me. He wraps his arms around my shoulder, pulling me close. I laugh at the sudden affection from the man I once called a coward. Though, I was wrong in my assumption. He barely knew me; we just fought along side each other in the war against Negan, yet he risked his life to bring me back, giving me sanctuary in his community. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't him. He's truly a brave king.

Okay, I'm dead, right? Because I never thought I'd see the day I'd ever string those words together in this modern word.

"Come, let's get you patched up, then we celebrate your victory!" He announces.

I groan, "I just wanna rest, guys!" They all laugh at my reaction; I can't help but share in the cheeky, lighthearted moment. Carol wraps her arms around my shoulder on the trek over to the infirmary.

I decide to leave my interaction with Daryl to myself; right now, it's so small compared to what I had just faced down. Though, my heart sinks realizing he might have doubts about rumored demise. He's not the type to give something up when he gets a stick up his ass. I just hope he lets it go, allowing me to live in peace.

I'm still trying to process that Owen is deep fried, lying dead in some abandoned house while I get to live freely and without fear. I don't think I'll be able to wrap my head around the fact that after years of torment; It's finally fucking over.

Six years later.

I watch in amusement, grinning like a mad man, as Charlee and Jamie trains the twins in the front yard. On their own, they've figured out that if they fight side by side, moving rapidly and constantly, they can overwhelm their target. Kelly would be proud of these two. They are certainly are incredibly smart for their age.

I wish I could be the one that's going toe to toe with the twins, but I was gifted with a temporary limp. Even dying, Owen made sure to do enough damage that I have to try and take it easy as much as possible. Siddiq found muscle damage in my thigh when I had returned. Though, I'll take the damage, knowing I deep fried the motherfucker.

However the limp is nothing but a memory now, it took several years for the muscles in my shoulder and thigh to heal. I still choose to take it easy as much as possible. I'm now creeping up on my mid thirties; I'm getting too old to be picking fights with random people and putting myself in danger. Though, I do make a point to make sure I keep up on my training and exercise to keep me in shape in case something were to arise.

Over the years, I've taken less and less runs, allowing Charlee and Wren to go out when we became low on supplies. At first, giving up the reigns was a giant torment, but I love staying home, raising my children. Ezekiel spared some school work from the Kingdom, so I can teach them as a normal child would at their age, but specials was reserved for some sort of training. Charlee and Jamie took on hand to hand combat while I stepped in for weapons training. I still haven't given them a gun. I probably won't for another several more years. Caroline has taken a liking to archery while Kellin favors his dual tomahawk. They really do take after their father and I.

Caroline and Kellin are fully aware of who their father is; I had to face the hard truth that they want to know him. I just mentioned that we've been living a lie we can't come back from so we can have enjoy this simple quiet and safe life. Maybe, I'm too deep in the lie that I'm scared to crawl back out of it. Crashing their gates had occurred to me once or twice, but I really don't want to answer their thousand and one questions.

As much much as I miss everyone from Hilltop and Alexandria, my life has become simple and safe. I don't have to worry about someone inside the group pissing someone off from another group, and facing another all out war. I'm getting too old to keep fighting day in and day out. Out here, we only have to worry about a walker or two stumbling by.

Jesus brings news once in awhile; Michonne had a baby boy several months after Rick went missing. Judith takes after her parents; I smile at the thought. I've watched her grow from afar. She's beautiful and fierce. Jesus is now leader at Hilltop in Maggie's absence, promising that I'll always have a home while he reigns over the community. When nostalgia hits, I get close enough, staying out of eyesight, making sure everyone I once loved is still safe. Though, I haven't seen Daryl since the day I took down Owen. As far as I know, he didn't try to track down the crazy woman who ran away from him.

The radio next to me begins to hiss; I frown, taking it into my grasp, listening intently. Carol had brought it over to me in case anything were to happen, so one of the few people who is aware of my situation can call in and give me a heads up.

"Vanessa," my blood runs cold at the tired, scared tone in Rosita's voice, "get to Hilltop. Eugene and I are in danger. They need to know."

"Where are you? I can come to you." I chew on my lip, knowing she wouldn't call me in if it wasn't absolutely prudent. I glance up, spotting Charlee and Jamie watching from the yard, James and Wren have joined me on the porch. All eyes filled with concern.

"I don't know," she mumbles, almost coherently. "Walkers.. talking... They.. need... to.. know.."

What the hell does she mean walkers are fucking talking? I let out a stream of curses, "okay, I'll be there as soon as I can." I run a hand through my hair, hanging my head, feeling nausea sink its claws into my body. "Hang on a little bit longer."

"I'm goin' with ya, runt." James offers. "I ain't lettin' ya do this alone."

"We all will." Charlee agrees. She puts her fingers between her lips, letting out an ear splitting whistle, gesturing for the twins to get dressed; get ready to head out.

"We leave within the hour. Vacation is over folks," I deadpan. "Ready, or not, The Reaper is about to come back from the grave."