When Michonne said that the Scavengers were really weird, she really meant it. They barely used any words, they lived with garbage, and they were very stubborn. Unfortunately, they wanted more guns than Rick and Michonne found, so they had to find more. They weren't going immediately, though. They were going to drop Rosie off at the Hilltop and then go back to Alexandria for a little while to come up with a new plan.
By the time they made it to the Hilltop, the sun had gone down and Rosie had been away from the Saviors for a full day. She was sitting in the back of the van, and she felt kind of guilty. Negan would look for her. He'd go to Alexandria to look for her, but she wouldn't be there, and he'd get angry. What if she was putting more people in danger? Was it selfish of her to leave? Rick said, No. What matters is that you're safe. But Rosie still felt bad about it. When Rick and Michonne dropped her off at the Hilltop, they'd have to rush back to Alexandria to hopefully be there when Negan came looking.
Either way, Rosie was trying to remain positive. She was going to see Maggie, Ian, Enid, and Sasha again, and soon she would see Daryl again. That was a good thing. So she tried to focus on that more than anything else.
The gates of the Hilltop creaked open and Rick drove the van through, but only a little bit because he was going to leave the moment Rosie got out of the car. Rick and Michonne each gave Rosie one more hug and one more We'll see you very soon. Be safe, before Rosie finally got out of the car. As Rick pulled the van back out of Hilltop, Rosie waved to him and Michonne one last time. When the gates creaked back closed, Rosie instantly turned and started running towards what Jesus called the Barrington House. She didn't run for long, though, because her feet skidded to a stop when Jesus walked out the door.
His eyes widened a little bit. "Rosie," he said, a surprised tone to his voice.
"Where's Maggie?" Rosie asked, bouncing on her feet. She knew that Rick was telling the truth about Maggie being alive, but she just wanted to see her. She wanted to see her and hug her and tell her that she was so happy that she was alive.
"Follow me," Jesus said, a smile finding its way onto his face. With a little extra pep in her step, Rosie followed Jesus to the line of trailers that the Hilltop civilians lived in. She stood behind him, impatiently tapping her hands against her legs as Jesus knocked on the door. After a moment, Maggie opened the door and Jesus stepped back, out of the way. Maggie's eyes fell to Rosie, and her heart lept up into her throat when Rosie gave her a smile.
This time, it was Rosie who initiated the hug. She jumped forward and wrapped her arms around Maggie's abdomen. Maggie was just frozen in her spot for a good three seconds before she finally returned the hug. Rosie was turning her head away, trying not to let Maggie see that she was on the verge of crying.
"Oh, my God," Maggie breathed out, on the verge of crying herself.
"Your baby's ok?" Rosie asked, her eyes wide.
"My baby's fine. We're all just fine, sweetheart," Maggie assured her, finally pulling away from the hug. "Are you? We've all been so worried."
"I'm ok," Rosie said. She was ok. She was worried- worried about Negan and what he would do- but she was safe here. She was safe here, Maggie was ok, Maggie's baby was ok, and Rick was gathering a group to stop the Saviors. "Where's Ian?" Rosie asked next. He was her best friend. She was worried about him.
"I'd let you see him, but he's already asleep, and I don't want to wake him. He hasn't been sleeping well since..." Maggie trailed off, her voice getting shaky by the end of her sentence.
"I know," Rosie said quietly, nodding her head. "Me neither."
"I'm so sorry, honey. You must've been so scared," Maggie said, her eyebrows pinched together with her hands on Rosie's cheeks. It was scary, but Rosie was brave. She was brave and she did it, and now she was home. "Daryl told us everything. I'm so sor-"
"Daryl's here? Rick said he's at the Kingdom place," Rosie interrupted, her heart beating hard in her chest. It'd only been a few days since Daryl escaped the Saviors, but that was enough for Rosie to miss him badly. Especially because she was scared for him. She was scared that Dwight was going to find him and bring him back there. She was scared that Negan might just kill him for escaping. She was scared for him for a lot of reasons. "Is he ok?" she asked.
"He's ok. He's just been worried, hon, that's all," Maggie said, smiling down at her a little bit sadly, a little bit happily. It was confusing. She was happy that Rosie was safe now, but she was sad that any of it had happened at all. Rosie tried looking into the trailer, past Maggie, but Daryl wasn't in the trailer. He was having a hard time being around Maggie at all. "He should be around back. Come on," Maggie said. She stood back up and put her hand on Rosie's back, leading her around to the other side of the trailer, where Daryl was sitting on a picnic table, sharpening something with his knife.
Without a second of hesitation, Rosie bolted towards him. When she got to him, she didn't hug him right away because, of course, there was a knife in his hands. Just as Daryl turned his head to the sound of her footsteps in the grass, which stood out against the chirping crickets, Rosie finally reached him and leaned her head against his arm. Daryl's eyes widened when he saw that it was Rosie, and he instantly dropped his knife down onto the table and stood up, picking Rosie up with him. He thought back to the prison, when Rosie disappeared into those hallways with T-Dog and Carol, and they all thought she was dead. But he and Maggie came back from that run and Glenn led them up to Rosie's cell, where she was just laying on the bed. That day, he held her like he was holding her now.
Everything was different now. He hadn't even noticed that things were changing as time went by, but now, looking back at then and comparing it to now, he realized that nothing was the same. Back then, when they first got to the prison, yes, he cared about her. From the beginning, he saw bits and pieces of his own childhood in her sad, blue eyes, and he took it upon himself to try and add new pieces that would put a little light into her eyes. He wanted to help her, but as time went on, he came to realize that she helped him just as much. They needed each other, back at the prison and on the road. She was his, and he was hers. They were each other's. They were each other's something. He couldn't put a name to it back then. He just knew that he cared.
Now, holding her to his chest like a priceless treasure, pressing a kiss to her temple, listening to the beat her heart drummed like it was the only refuge in this shitty world, he thought he might be able to put a name to it. People had mistaken him for her father several times- so many times that he had stopped correcting them. He certainly cared about her, loved her, and cherished her like she was his daughter, and she certainly cared about him, loved him, and cherished him like he was her father. Both of them deserved to have something good like that. A father and his daughter. The blue in Rosie's eyes was the same as the blue in Daryl's, after all, and the name Rosie Starling Dixon held much fonder memories than Rosie Starling Banks ever did.
He had thought about it back at that church outside of Atlanta, and back then it seemed like a delusion. Rosie D. rather than Rosie B. seemed like nonsense. Yes, he was sure he loved her back then, too, but now he knew it and he knew it wasn't nonsense.
After everything he'd been through, if there was one thing he learned, it was that you can pick your family. It doesn't have to be the people you're bound to at birth, but it can be anyone you love. Rick was his brother. Maggie was his sister. Now- Rosie- she would be his daughter, because, in this world, he could choose.
When he wanted to, he could imagine what it would be like if she had always been his. What it would've been like to give her a name- a fancy name, like Rosalee. What it would have been like to hold her when she was as small as Judith had been back at the prison. Maybe he'd get a tattoo for her. Maybe he'd get a rose, and he'd put it over his heart. Yes, he could imagine those things. But he could also just be here, with her, because she was his.
"I missed you," Rosie whispered out, her face hidden in his shoulder.
Another kiss to her temple, then a deep, shaky breath. "I missed you, too, Rose," he said.
•
Rosie was sitting at the picnic table, eating a bowl of whatever kind of soup Maggie had cooked up. She wasn't sure if she'd be able to keep it down, but she was eating it extra slow to at least try. Daryl was across from her, leaning his head against his hand, tired, but trying to stay awake. If you would have told him, back on that highway, that he'd be here, forcing himself to stay awake just so he could keep Rosie- the little girl who kept asking Merle for a lighter- company, he'd say you were out of your mind. But here he was.
"Negan, he- he wants it to be like how it used to be, but it can't. It can't 'cause he's a bad person. I tried to tell him that, but he got mad and I got- I got real scared, even though I knew he ain't gonna hurt me," Rosie explained, her words coming out so quickly that they started to jumble together. She'd been explaining it all to him, getting it off her chest. If only she knew how Daryl's chest swelled up with guilt every time she mentioned that she was scared there, all on her own. "I kept throwin' up, and I keep throwin' up, and I don't know why. I know I gotta eat, but I keep tryin', and it ain't workin'."
"It's ok. We'll get you eatin' again. Just gotta take it slow and keep tryin'," Daryl told her, giving a reassuring nod. Rosie sighed because eating this whole bowl of soup felt impossible. Daryl could practically read her mind. "You don't gotta finish it. Just eat as much as you can," he said.
"Ok," Rosie said, taking another spoonful. She swirled the spoon around in the soup. "That guy Dwight was lookin' for you, and they were tryin' to ask me where you were. I told 'em I didn't know that you were gone, and Dwight didn't believe me. Negan got mad at him then and he went away. Then I saw Eugene."
"They keepin' Eugene in a cell, too?" Daryl asked, raising his eyebrows a little bit.
"No. Eugene's got a room with popcorn and video games and stuff. He said he was Negan. And that made me mad and sad at the same time, but then, later, he came to my cell and gave me the lock pick," Rosie explained. Daryl listened, even though it made his chest hurt. He knew that tomorrow morning, she was just going to have to talk about it again. They wanted the maps of the Sanctuary, and Daryl had no doubt that Sasha was going to be adamant about getting any and all information out of Rosie. Of course, he wanted Negan dead just as much as Sasha did. He just wished that Rosie wouldn't have to be a part of it. "Daryl," Rosie said, putting the spoon down in the bowl and leaning her head in her arms.
"Hm?" Daryl hummed, leaning his head in his arms, too.
"Do ya think he's gonna come lookin' for me?" Rosie asked, her eyes wider than she meant for them to be.
Daryl wished that he could tell her, No. You're safe here, and everything's ok now. But that would be a lie, and Rosie would see right through it. So he told her the truth instead. "Yeah. I think he will," he said honestly. Rosie turned her head away, but he could still see the tears starting to well up in her eyes, glowing in the moonlight. "Hey," he said, tapping her hand with his finger. Rosie looked at him again, pretending to be brave. "We ain't lettin' you go with him again. Plenty a' places to hide here, a'right?"
Rosie nodded, then looked away again, using her shoulder to wipe her eyes. "I'm sorry," she murmured, her voice breaking a little.
"For what?" Daryl asked, his eyebrows furrowing. She didn't have a single thing to apologize for. She only had a thousand things that other people should have apologized to her for.
"Cryin' too much," Rosie answered, sniffling a little bit. She bit down on her lip, not letting herself cry again.
"Nah," Daryl dismissed the thought, shaking his head. He tapped her hand, getting her to look at him again, except, this time, he kept his hand on top of hers. "You can cry whenever ya feel like cryin'. Not your fault everythin's shitty."
"Ok," Rosie whispered. The two of them sat in silence for a few moments, but it was a comfortable silence. A tired, drowsy silence. "How long 'til Maggie's baby's gonna be here?" Rosie asked, breaking the silence.
"How 'bout," Daryl started, swallowing back the lump in his throat at the thought of Maggie and Glenn's baby whom Glenn would never be able to meet. He cleared his throat a little, not following the advice that he'd given Rosie just a few moments ago. "How 'bout you talk to Maggie 'bout that in the mornin'? She's sleepin', and you need to sleep, too."
"I'm not tired," Rosie claimed. The long and slow blinks she was taking every couple of seconds told a different story. Daryl smiled a small, just barely noticeable smile. That lie was a very Rosie-like lie, and, for just a moment, things felt normal again. "Daryl?" Rosie said, a questioning tone to her voice.
"Yeah?" Daryl said, his voice quiet.
"Can I ask ya somethin'?" Rosie asked.
Daryl laughed, but just barely. "Yeah," he said.
"When you were mad at me for lyin' to..." Rosie trailed off for a moment, her eyebrows furrowing. When you were mad at me for lyin' to Abraham. "When you were mad at me for leavin' without askin'," she started over, using a sentence that didn't hurt so badly to say. "You called me your kid. Ya meant that?" She said it with a hopeful quality to her voice, but her cheeks were all red- probably a mix of embarrassment and tiredness.
That was something she tried not to think about when she was in the cell. She tried not to think about being Daryl's kid because it only made her miss him more. But now that he was right there- right there with her- it didn't feel so sad to think about. It felt happy more than anything else. She had thought about what it would be like if Daryl was her dad from the beginning. She thought that if Daryl had always been her dad, maybe Fraser would still be there, maybe she'd have a momma, and maybe she'd've been happier. But thinking about what could've been was a lot less important than thinking about what could be. What could be was that she could be his kid now, and she could be happier now.
"I meant it," Daryl told her, his hand lifting off of hers to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear and out of her shining blue eyes. "Why?"
Rosie chewed on the inside of her lip for a moment and shrunk down, burying more of her face in her arms, leaving only her eyes uncovered. "Well, if- if you did mean it, then maybe..." she turned her head away again, embarrassed at herself for being like this. "Maybe I think I'm your kid, too," she murmured.
"Yeah?" Daryl asked, slightly amused by her embarrassment. To be honest, he felt awkward about it, too. These emotions and admissions of love or care weren't something either of them had ever experienced or dealt with before meeting each other. It was new and it was difficult, but it was better than bottling it all up and being unsure of what the other was feeling. Even if it was difficult to say it, how would Rosie have really known that he and everyone else loved her if Daryl hadn't ever told her?
Avoiding eye contact, Rosie shrugged. "Don't like bein' called Banks no more," she murmured into her arm. After a moment, she worked up the courage to look at Daryl again, and he was still looking at her. He wasn't really smiling, because he barely ever really smiled, but he had a look of contentment on his face that was much different from the sad, scared, and angry look that had been all over his face since the night they all knelt in the dirt.
"You don't wanna be called Banks no more?" Daryl asked. Rosie shook her head, confirming it. Banks was the name that kept her linked to David. She didn't want to be linked to David anymore. "Ya like Dixon any better?" was Daryl's next question. Rosie twisted her lips to the side and nodded, her cheeks growing redder. "Rosie Dixon, huh?"
"Mhm," Rosie hummed, nodding her head again. Daryl really did smile this time- a tight lipped smile, but a smile nevertheless- and he ruffled her hair. For just tonight, Rosie got to be safe again. And from then on, she didn't have to carry the weight that the name Banks left on her shoulders anymore. She got to be Rosie Starling Dixon, instead.