virago|c.g.|

By GrvmesStuffandThangs

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(n.) a strong, brave, or warlike woman; a woman who demonstrates exemplary and heroic qualities C⃠G⃠ - Book 1... More

virago
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a/n
another a/n
oops, another quick a/n

epilogue

1.9K 41 10
By GrvmesStuffandThangs

"What are you thinking about?"

Clary was surprised at the soft voice, forcing her to turn to her side. Her surprise never faltered as her gaze met Carl's, her confusion primarily from the light clothing he wore. It was so different from the dirty and bloody clothing he would wear, along with his sheriff hat, which no longer sat atop his head. He looked almost ethereal, Clary thought, with his long, dark hair and pale skin covered by a white shirt rolled to his elbows.

"What?" Clary questioned, falling silent as he smiled before reaching out to push back hair that had fallen in her face. "You were spacing out again. Everything okay?" Clary didn't know how to respond, especially when she saw the view around her.

Clary looked down at herself, confused at the light blue shirt shirt she wore, clean as the jeans she wore. Her weapons weren't on her, not even her leather cuff that she never took off. It was weird feeling to be  so bare when the world didn't allow her to be.

Not wanting to think any more of it, she looked up to find herself seated with Carl to her right and Enid to her left. Down the table, at the head, was Glenn with... a baby. His baby. Maggie sat besides him, smiling brightly as she fixed her son's hair. They were happy.

All around her was the people she had come to see as family. Abraham—

"Oh! Look at that! Taking it like a champ!"

Clary clenched her fist at the harsh voice that seemingly appeared out of nowhere. However, she couldn't question it as she heard a soft whistle. "Jo, you okay?" Looking up, Clary was surprised to see Daryl, who stuck out a bit considering he still wore his dark vest. However, the clothing was clean, and he wasn't marked by dirt and blood.

"Daryl, stop!"

Another voice, but it was her own. Clary could only nod in response to the man as she looked away. The voices pained her, as if they were small knives piercing her heart. Her fist, which was still clenched, was covered by a larger hand. She looked up to see it was Carl that had done so, looking worriedly to her. "Clary, are you okay? You're worrying me."

"Alexandria is exactly what you said it was: a lie. It's a lie that, if we give in to, we die."

A lie.

Clary looked away from Carl, away from the people surrounding her. She pushed past the love and comfort she felt and searched for something else.

Anger.

Hurt.

Fear.

And at the end of those feelings, they all made their way back to him. Back to Negan. And she realized that the memory she was in wasn't a memory, but a dream. A dream that became shattered as— she saw him before her.

"So, back to it."

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