Amelia- may's story isn't all that different from anyone else's. The word went to shit, and the dead don't want to die. She has lost people and so has everyone else. Who she was before isn't who she now but here is one difference between Amelia may and every other survivor she as come across. She does't know who she was.. and who she is? Well, she is still trying to figure that out. During the mayhem of the beginning of the apocalypse, a fateful smack on the head stole her memory. All she has ever known is the world she is living in now but that doesn't means she's adept to surviving it, Eventually she ends up on deaths door until a man on a motorcycle chooses to save her life. Amelia- may has to decide if who she was is worth fighting for or if she'll fight that comes with what's forgotten and strive for something better with the one man who can see past it all.


8. Be careful around him, Amelia

Dylan Rogers had been there a little over four months, showing up at the gate with a bag full of supplies and a nasty gash in his shoulder from running into a protruding tree branch. He'd practically had to beg to be let in, lying through his teeth at all their questions and playing the ' damsel in distress' to perfection. They'd fallen for it, like very other group he'd come across that he'd robbed blind, murdered some and moved on.


He was biding his time here in Alexandria. Collecting little things , figuring out who he like the least, who he wanted to gut, who he wouldn't waste time on. It was great not having a moral center. He danced a fine line between being a sociopath and a psychopath. The shrinks at the prison always had a hard time labeling him. He killed selectively and terrorized selectively  and enjoyed every damn minute of it. The end of the world was a blessing to a bastard like him.


Despite his urges, he could fit in anywhere. He figured out the best way to fool people into complacency, and that's exactly what he'd done here. He was the 'guy next door'. Happy to lend a hand, not so great with weapons, , but eager to learn and not beneath getting his hands dirty if needed. People warmed up to hi almost over night, only one or two were suspicious of him. There was always a few, the ones who weren't too preoccupied to realize that there might be a wolf wandering around among the sheep. But for the most part , he kept them off his back by just playing the part he'd written for himself. He wouldn't give them real reason to be wary of him till he felt like it. 

When the redneck had show'd up about two months ago with that girl, he'd wandered very briefly if she was like him. There was a moment when he saw Daryl carrying her limp into the infirmary, that Dylan thought he saw a glow to her. Of course, it was just probably because he was out of his mind but he typically knew a born and bred killer when he saw one. And when he saw her? All the bells and whistles went off. To say he was more than a little instantly enamored with her was a complete understatement. Not only was she drop dead gorgeous , but a killer? It was a dream come true.

Unfortunately, he hadn't been able to have any real access to her. They kept her locked up till she healed up. Then there was that little incident with the town's glorified doctor. Now, that damned hillbilly wasn't more than two feet from her. That didn't mean he wasn't studying her from afar. He joined her little 'self-defense- class, sat nearby during town meals, offered to take watch with her once or twice. Not more than that. He didn't wan to seem too eager but always, fucking Daryl was at her side. He was like a goddamn puppy dog and Dylan hated dogs.

Now she was sitting on her porch field stripping a 9mm. For a while he stood there in the shade and just watched. She took it all apart and put it back together twice before she set it aside and leaned back against the beams of the overhang, legs stretched out before her, crossed at the ankles. He kept waiting for a sign of Daryl but there was nothing. A slow smile crept up on his lips. Finally.




It had taken a full week of constant prodding for her to convince Daryl to go out on a run with Aaron. She got why he stuck to her like glue and she even appreciated it. Having him around seemed to help more than she thought it would, like he helped her feel centered , calm and safe. But she was also feeling more and more like a burden as the days wore on. People had calmed down a bit more now, though some were still a little uncertain about being around her. Denise swore up and down that she wasn't angry and wasn't afraid of her but Amelia just felt miserable about the whole thing.

Rick and still wary of her, constantly checking up on her,or watching her when she was out and about despite the fact that Daryl hadn't left her side. Rick was a good guy, a strong leader with his with his people's best interests at heart. She had a feeling the only thing keeping him from locking her up or kicking her out was Daryl.

Carol was an advocate, too. And so was Maggie, even Michonne. She had to give those women credit. They came to 'relieve' Daryl , giving her lady time, offering friendship. Sometimes some good cookies. Carol sure could bake. Bit by bit, Amelia was opening p to them all, trying to figure herself out and the place she was destined to be. Bu here was no one she confided more in than Daryl.

Part of that may have been because he was always around. But mostly, it was because he was quickly becoming her rock, her source of strength when she wasn't sure she had any left. She cherished him for it, not that she'd ever say that out loud. It was far easier and more fun to toss around sarcastic and witty banter with him.


He'd finally agreed to go on the run when Amelia agreed to let Carol come check on fer forever whenever she wanted and Amelia had agreed not to leave the house alone. The had made her stomach clench a little, the thought that he didn't trust her. It was always there, hanging around her head , that he might not trust her to be around people which was the real reason he always with her or at least that's what she convinced herself. Who could blame him? or any of them, for that matter. She was dangerous, plain and simple. 


Denise had explained the whole ' Intermittent Explosive Disorder' thing to her as best as she could and it made sense for the most part. Denise also thought part of her nightmares and the blackouts was her memory trying to push it's way through whatever block was in it's way. Why couldn't she just sneeze the memories out? She could totally live having to walk around with a stash of tissues in her pockets.

" Enjoying the breeze?" She heard a voice , her head suddenly whipping up at the sound of it, hand going to her side. She'd left her machete in the bedroom, on the nightstand. She was trying more and more not to walk around with it inside the walls. Not that she'd been outside of the walls since coming here. When she saw Dylan standing there, she relaxed but only ever so slightly.

She'd only had a few interactions with the man, but never anything lengthy and never alone. He seemed friendly enough, a little shy maybe and she shouldn't have had any reason to feel nervous around him.. but she did. There was just something in his eyes. She straightened up a little, offering a light smile and swinging her legs around to plant her boots on the steps, still sitting. 

" Yeah. Trying to.. it comes and goes." She said, watching as he walked a little further toward her, hand deep in his pockets. He smiles brightly, stopping just before the bottom step.

" I like it. Wish we had more weather like this." He said, looking past her at the open door of the house. " Where's your boyfriend?" He asked cordially , letting his eyes fall back to her. She lifted both brows, then smiled. 

" Who? Daryl?" She stood, crossing her arms over her chest. " He's not my boyfriend. And he's on a run. He'll be back in a few days." She said, a soft flush filled in her cheeks at the idea of Daryl being her boyfriend. The thought had honestly never occurred to her that she could ever have anything romantic with anyone. Ever. And least of all Daryl. He was an incredible man with so much respect and trust around here. And he was always so kind to her, so real. Something began to form in her mind. A thought, a feeling. A 'what if' pooling in the depths and waiting for her to cause a ripple. But she didn't have the chance when Dylan spoke up and broke her train of thought. 

" Really? Thought you two were a thing. Ya know.. living together. I never see you two apart." He said, watching her carefully. She shrugged and cleared her throat a little. 

" Nope. Just friends. He's... looking out for me." She said , and hoped he'd leave it at that. She didn't  like talking about what happened with Denise. She didn't like talking to people about how she was just a disaster waiting to happen.

" My mistake." He said, a smile spreading across his face. " Mind if I sit with you for a bit? I don't have pantry duty till later. Could use the company." He asked, slipping his hands out of his pockets. The movement drew her eyes to his forearms and she blinked, pausing before meeting his gaze again. Then she smiled a bit, about to say 'sure' when she heard Carols voice.

" Dylan." One word. And it wasn't entirely friendly. She stepped up past him, hooking her arm into Amelia's, holding onto her elbow gently. " What brings you by?" Amelia had to look at Carol, the practiced lines of her face. All fake friendliness. It was really clear to her that Carol did not like the man before them and she couldn't help raising  a brow at the older woman. 

" Just saying Hi. Saw her sitting by herself, figured i'd keep her company." He said, his eyes flashing something unkind, so fast Amelia almost missed it, before he turned his eyes Amelia. " But i'll take a rain check, let you ladies have some girl time, deal?" He said to Amelia , ignoring Carol's presence altogether. Amelia nodded quickly, the tension in the air rolling over her like electricity.

" Sure." She finally got out. And Dylan nodded, smiling and wished them a good day before walking off. Carol stood there, hooked to Amelia's arm for a moment before she let go, turning to face her.

" Be careful around him, Amelia." She said, amount of amusement in her voice. " I don't trust him." She patted Amelia on the shoulder before moving over to the porch swing and sitting. Amelia had to stand there a little stunned.. She swore that Carol was going to say be careful around him because Amelia might hurt him. But it had been the exact opposite. She quickly moved to sit next to Carol, one leg slightly up as she sat somewhat sideways, the swing swaying easily back and forth with both of them on it.

" Why?" She asked, Carol met her gaze.

" Because there are good people in the world and there are bad. Sometimes the bad ones are disguised as good ones and sometimes the good ones are disguised as bad." she nodded a Amelia, patting her knee with a small smile. Amelia was silent, Carol's words wandering around her head. She relaxed back into the swing, her eyes wandering to the empty gun she'd left on the floorboards of the porch.

She knew what Carol was trying to say. Amelia had been labeled as bad because of what was wrong with her, but Carol knew different. And if she knew different about Amelia... the amnesiac had no choice but to trust her about Dylan. Because as deadly as Amelia could be, she had a pretty good feeling other people were just as deadly. If not more.. and far m far more evil. 

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