My Brothers And Sisters In Arms - (TWD FanFiction) [ON HOLD]

Sleeping For The Whole Of England

*Unedited

Harper
"Moving out west, things got lonely,
Trying my best, nobody showed me,
Which way to go,
I didn't know,"

We've spent all winter out in the elements, no place to call 'home' for more than a night or two. All of us are slowly starving. It's been a harsh winter for all of us, but I'll be damned if Alicia, Xena, Carl or Lori go hungry now. Speaking of Lori, she's 'boutta burst—Daryl hates me when I use that term. Her being so close out in the middle of nowhere must irk him or something.

Anyway, Ali's taken to calling me 'mum' which, surprising even me, I don't actually mind. In fact, if I'm really honest with myself, I kind of like it. Makes me feel like I've got a good amount of responsibility and it makes me feel loved, if I'm really, truely honest.

But I'm not, so I'll never admit it.

Lucille's recovered very well, Hershel said she didn't have a concussion so she was pretty much fine as soon as she woke up--besides a pounding headache.

Randall's made a surprisingly good addition to our group, though Daryl and Xena still hate him for reasons unknown.

And I--well, the holes in my back are gone now. Have been for awhile, but they still can be sore on a bad day, and so Daryl's pointedly ignored my pleas for him to take me on a hunting trip with him.

I've gotten reasonably better with my staff too--at killing mostly because I haven't been foolishly trying to disarm unarmed walkers like an idiot. Although I admit I am an idiot sometimes.

Anyway, the certified idiot-- which is me, by the way, --and the rest of my ragtag bunch of besties have apparently been going around in circles for the past couple of months. Well, according to this map we've laid out on the hood of a broken down car, anyway.

I listened to them ramble on about herds and whatever, as I just laid myself across the hood and windshield of the car.

"You lot keep organizing, while I sleep for the whole of England." Hershel huffed a laugh.

"You'll be sleepin' for a while if you're countin' walkers." Hershel commented. Earning a small smile from Dale who stood beside him, studying the map with Rick and Randall.

"I initially was thinking of beating all of you in the sleeping Olympics, but I'll gladly sleep for all eternity while I'm at it." Rick didn't look up, but the amused open mouthed smile told me he'd heard me very well.

"Get off tha car, I can't see over ya." The Squirrel grumbled.

"Boy, you should try laying on a car sometime, its relaxing, and it might help you pull that stick outta your ass." I answered, not moving an inch as I closed my eyes and rested my interlaced hands over my stomach.

Daryl huffed. "Ya only got more annoyin' after tha farm."

"You know what? I'm an asshole, I'll admit it, but you're the one throwing your weight around when you weigh a ton." Daryl scoffed.

"Ya ain't much lighter." I sat up, gasping as if I'd been shot by him.

I swung my legs off of the hood and stormed up to him, stopping just short of him and standing on my tippy toes to whisper in his ear. "Hey, Daryl, Lori's boutta burst."

Daryl cringed so hard I thought he'd implode. "Stahp. Ya know I hate tha'."

I took a step back. "You essentially called me fat. With a capital 'P' 'H'. You asked for it, Mr. Squirrel from Under The Hedge."