No Expectations, No Disappointments

I hummed along to an upbeat tune that I had playing on my stereo as I dressed for the day. I slipped into a pair of freshly washed cargo shorts and a thin black tank top knowing that the sun would be my enemy today. I could feel it burning against my cheek early this morning as I forgot to close the blinds before bed last night. Daryl was up and hustling around town early this morning, gathering lists of supplies from people who needed them. Daryl, Rick, and I would be heading out for a run today, hoping to find anything of use. It has been five weeks since the walls fell and we have been working our asses off playing catch up ever since.

I still remember that morning afterwards vividly in my memory. I am better now, stronger now, but at the time I was completely defeated. We all sat around on the porch of the infirmary, staring down at the dead that littered the streets of Alexandria as we waited for Carl to wake up. I remember sitting on the bottom step, wedged between Daryl's knees as he sat two steps behind me, his hands gently placed on my shoulders. I stared down at the pool of blood soaking in the grass as I remained trapped in my head. All I remember thinking was what the fuck is the point? It wasn't until Daryl leaned over to my ear and answered You just being here that I realized I had asked that question out loud. Everything after that morning is a blur to me. From the beginning, I've said that this world doesn't give you the time to feel or process your emotions in a healthy manner. It's always, keep going, or move on, or learn from this. I barely even got the chance to know him, but after losing Alexander, I was broken down. I can't recall exactly what happened, but I've been told that I was asleep for about five days. My body forcefully shut itself down.

It wasn't like a switch when I finally woke up, I wasn't magically healed. But that break gave me the to process what had happened. It gave me the chance to refuel before I began to put myself back together and keep going. It was something I don't believe I would have been granted if we were still stuck on the outside.

I placed a baseball cap on my head, slipping my low ponytail through the back loop before clipping on my belt of weapons. I walked back across the room, clicked the little button on the stereo to turn it off and went on my way. The light breeze hit me immediately as I stepped out onto the porch, I inhaled deeply as I listened carefully to the bustle of the town this morning. When the walls came down that day we lost a lot of people, Deanna, unfortunately, being one of them. But, that night also made us realize the people who remained were strong. They were no longer the inexperienced and scared community we arrive in. They learned and they showed us that they became what we needed them to be.

I walked to the front gate, already seeing the car we were taking out today parked in front of it. I could see Rick and Daryl already sitting in the front seats, the engine running as they waited for me. I sighed as I popped open the back door, sliding into the middle seat.

"How did I get stuck in the back when you're supposed to be third wheeling us?" I asked, staring up at Rick through the review mirror. I watched as Rick peered over at Daryl, an amusing smile appearing on both of their faces.

Rick's head cocked around towards me, "Oh no, you're definitely third-wheeling us," he laughed. Daryl looked back at me, shrugging his shoulders before complying with Rick's joke.

Rick then pulled the car forward as Eugene slid open the front gate for us. We watched as he walked around the car, pulling out a piece of paper from his pocket and leaning in through the window.

"I mapped out some of the agricultural supply places in the area," he handed the sheet to Daryl. I peered forward, taking a look at it as well. "Even if they have been cleaned out, my bet is that the sorghum would be untouched. Now, that there is a criminally underrated grain that could change the game with our food situation from scary to hunky-dunky," he explained. We all looked up at him curiously, waiting for him to explain what he was saying in English. He took notice of our confusion. "I'm talking sustainability, drought tolerance, a grain-to-stover ratio that is the envy of all corns." We were silent again. "Think about it," he encouraged.

"Thanks," Daryl finally responded to him. Eugene grunted, happy with his talk with us, even though we still remained confused. He finally leaned back from the window, allowing us to drive off. Rick weaved through the cars we had parked on the outside, whittled down wooden spears shoved through the side for wandering walkers to catch on them before reaching our walls.

"Today's the day," Rick said as we turned onto Redding.

"Uh-huh," Daryl grunted, not entirely sure.

"We're gonna find food, maybe some people. The law of averages has gotta catch up," he manifested.

"I don't know. We ain't seen nobody for weeks, maybe we ain't gonna find nobody. Maybe that's a good thing," Daryl answered.

"I, for one, do not care," I sighed, "no expectations, no disappointments," I stated. Rick turned his head to the side, eyeing me.

"Well, aren't you just the picture of positivity," he chuckled.

"It's like when we went looking for alcohol after the prison. We had no expectations of finding any, so there was no disappointment, but you did end up finding some. You remember?" I asked Daryl, leaning up between the two seats and smiling at him.

He glanced over at me, a grin appearing on his face, "Ya, I remember."

"Did you two just go on a bender after we were all nearly killed?" Rick raised his brows, almost in disbelief.

"It was our intention, but pretty much," I laughed. Rick's face softened, laughing out as well. "You know what we need?" I asked, opening up the middle console and shuffling around the CDs.

"Don't," Daryl immediately objected, "Please don't." I ignored him, finding the disk and sliding it into the slot.

The tune started and Rick began to snap his fingers along after cranking the radio all the way up. Daryl shook his head at the terrible song. "Draw 'em away from home!" Rick yelled over the music and I laughed, leaning back in my seat again and enjoying the ride.

We hadn't been driving for very long, maybe ten minutes at the most with the dreadful song on repeat. Eventually, Rick hit the breaks, throwing me forward slightly before he began to reverse. I looked out the window, spotting a large barn off to our right with SORGHUM printed in block letters on the roof. It was a relatively secluded storage space, Rick having to drive down a long dirt road to reach the warehouse built in the middle of the fields. Most likely the fields where the sorghum once grew.

We stepped out of the car, Daryl bringing his backpack of tools along with him as Rick and I cleared down the sides of the warehouse. We both worked our way back, taking our places on either side of Daryl as we stood in front of the sliding garage door.

"It's best to be safe. You guys cover it?" Daryl asked as he dropped his bag, holding my crowbar in hand.

"We got it," Rick answered. We both steadied our weapons in front of us. Daryl popped open the garage door, sliding it open quickly as Rick and I raced in. The first thing in front of us was a transport truck parked with the back towards the door. Rick and I again both peered around each side, seeing nothing of concern on the inside.

"We're good," I said, coming back round to the front.

"One more time?" Rick motioned for Daryl to now open up the back door of the truck as we covered him.

"It ain't locked," Daryl looked back at us. He flipped open the latch, nodding his head that he was about to open it before he did. The door slid all the way up, Rick and I stepping forwards with our guns and Daryl jumping backwards with his knife in case anything came barreling out. Instead, I could feel my pulse rise with excitement and relief. An entire truck full of supplies sat before us, we had hit the jackpot. Cases of shampoo, toothpaste, and toiletries. Wrapped up stacks of canned food, along with bedding and useless supplies that you would need around the house that we very much needed.

"Well, how 'bout that?" Rick let out a breathy laugh.

"No expectations, no disappointments," I smiled, stepping up onto the bed of the truck and grabbing a juice box from one of the cases.

"The law of averages," Rick fought back, grabbing a package of toothpaste that I knew Michonne had been asking him for. "Let's get this thing going, grab our gear, come back for the car later. Take another way back. See what we can see," Rick planned.

I hopped down from the truck as Daryl reached up to lock the door again. "You think it'll start?" Daryl asked.

"Yeah, I do," Rick answered, letting out a shocked laugh, "Sorghum."

Sure enough, the truck did startup, but we definitely needed to stop and find some fuel on the way home. As Rick said, we decided to take a different route back home, seeing if we could come across anything else on the way. We followed along with Eugene's map, knowing we'd come across a gas station fairly soon. We drove up and over the final hill and pulled into a rundown and trashed gas station.

"Can I have that back, please? I was looking for it all morning," I asked Daryl for my crowbar back as Rick parked the truck and we hopped out.

"Maybe if ya didn't sleep in so late you'd get to it first," Daryl said, raising a brow at me.

"Sorry I don't get up at the ass crack of dawn," I fought back, laughing, insinuating that he did. Daryl shut the passenger side door behind me as Rick walked away to check the front doors of the store.

"Finders keepers," Daryl said, a smirk rising from his lips.

I stepped closer to him, my chest just centimetres away from his as I watched his chest heavily rise and fall. "I do remember you getting this as a present for me? Am I wrong?" I spoke softly, bringing my face closer to his. Daryl became silent, I could see that he was holding his breath now. I smiled, placing a kiss on his cheek before ripping the crowbar from his hands when he wasn't paying attention. I laughed, watching him shake his head with a smile on his face. I walked around the front of the truck, looking back towards him as he reluctantly followed.

I looked around the side of the store as I watched Rick yank on the locked doors. I peered around the side, not seeing anything in the small clearing around the back before the treeline of the woods.

"Yo, give me a hand with this," Daryl called out to Rick, "Let's flip it over."

I walked back down the side, watching as the two men attempted to flip over a vending machine to see what still remained inside. Their faces went red and they lifted it only about a foot from the ground before dropping it again. Rick shook his head in defeat, "I don't think we got it," he said and I laughed.

Daryl looked back towards the truck before saying, "I got an idea."

I sat patiently waiting on the driver's side of the truck, sipping my juice box and enjoying the cool breeze as the two of them hooked up a chain to the vending machine and the tail end of the truck. I tapped my foot on the dashboard very much enjoying the day I was having with them.

"Alright Scar, we're good to go!" Rick called out, giving me the go-ahead. I plopped my feet down, putting the truck into drive before pressing my foot down on the gas. I drove only a few feet forward until I could hear the vending machine rollover. I turned off the engine, sliding the keys into my back pocket as I joined the two of them again.

"It's soda and candy. Why the trouble?" Rick asked as we all looked down at the contents of the machine.

"It wasn't any trouble," Daryl answered.

All of a sudden a body collided with my back, throwing me forward onto the vending machine as the person held onto me before they were thrown off. The scare sent my heartbeat into a frenzy before I snapped out of it, immediately pulling my gun from its holster and pointing it at the man. The three of us pressed forward on him, all of our guns raised as he backed away slowly, his hands propped up in surrender. He wore a long black trench coat and a beanie in this weather. A bandana covered the lower half of his face, only his big blue eyes for show.

"Hi," he breathed out, not an ounce of fear in his eyes.

"Back up! Now!" Daryl yelled at him.

"Keep 'em up!" Rick ordered as the man began to drop his hands.

"Whoa, easy, guys. I was just running from the dead," he explained.

"How many?" I asked, my eyes narrowed on him. Rick walked backwards, peering around the side of the store to take a look.

"Ten, maybe more," he answered, "I'm not risking it. Once it gets to double digits, I start running."

"Where?" Daryl snarled.

"About a half a mile back. They're headed this way. You probably have about eleven minutes." There was a silence for a moment, all of us mentally deciding what to do next, or whether or not to believe him.

Finally, Rick spoke up, "Okay, thanks for letting us know." He clicked the safety of the gun back on, lowering it before placing it back into its holster.

"Yeah," the man breathed out, "There's more of them than us, right? Gotta stick together." He then peered over at Daryl, seeing that he still hadn't lowered his weapon. "Right?" he asked him directly. Daryl finally dropped his gun, and the man was free to drop his hands once again. "You have a camp?" the man asked.

"No," Daryl answered, not trusting the guy.

"Do you?" Rick asked.

"No," he said. He then looked over at me, "Sorry for running into you. I'm gonna go now." he turned away from us, still speaking, "This is the next world, I hope it's good to you guys."

He began to walk away before Rick spoke up again, "I'm Rick. This is Daryl and Scar," he introduced us. "What's your name?"

The man stopped, turning back around and pulling down his bandana. He had a thick beard to match his long brown hair. "Paul Rovia. But my friends used to call me Jesus. You pick."

"You said you didn't have a camp. You on your own?" Rick questioned.

"Yeah. But, still, best not to try anything--"

"Best not to make threats you can't keep, either," Daryl cut him off.

"Exactly," he smiled before running off.

"How many walkers--"

"No, not this guy," Daryl also cut Rick off.

Rick shook his head, calling out even louder, "How many walkers have you killed?"

"Sorry, gotta run. You should, too. Think you've got about seven minutes," Jesus answered before turning around the corner of the store and disappearing.

"What the hell was that?" Daryl questioned, looking back at us.

"He was clean. His beard, it was trimmed. There's more going on there," Rick explained.

"He didn't have a gun, either," I said.

"We could track him, watch him for a little while, get to know more. See if he's really alone. Maybe bring him back?" Rick suggested.

"Nah, guy calls himself Jesus," Daryl objected.

Two gunshots then went off behind the store, echoing loudly over the abandoned road. We pulled out our guns again, walking around the side of the building steadily. We peered around the back, keeping our bodies close to the wall before the sound went off again. An old barrel lit up, sparks flying out of the top of it as something exploded from inside.

"Firecrackers," Rick said.

"What the hell," I breathed out.

"Shit," Rick cursed.

Daryl then looked back at me, "He swiped your keys, didn't he?" Daryl asked. My hands went to my back pocket, no longer feeling the lump where they sat just minutes beforehand. My eyes widened.

"Fuck," I exhaled and turned on my heel back towards the parking lot. Just as we reached the front lot we watched as our truck drove off without us. Daryl's bag of supplies was tossed out the window as the vending machine scrapped on the pavement in tow.

"Sorry!" Jesus called out before punching the gas.

So much for no disappointments.