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Survival Isn't An Option	By : Pilgrim Category: S through Z > The Walking Dead Views: 6774 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead or any of the characters from the series. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 12
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- 14
*AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thank you for the continued reviews :D Will be back on track with Tuesday and Saturday updates from now on :) Apologies for the disruption this week!

   It had been almost a fortnight since the Woodbury arrivals had taken over block D and food was getting low. Isabelle watched her horse in the distance, the open glade the perfect place for it to graze with plenty of warning. It was her mare, she had escaped so long ago that Isabelle had given up hope of finding her again. Apparently she hadn’t wandered all that far after all. Carefully she dropped her bow over her head, she’d recovered it on her first scavenging mission with the group and had been using it day after day until her aim was decent enough to hit a moving target. Blisters covered her fingers, bruises bloomed down her entire left arm which had been struck repeatedly by the string before she’d realised she needed to brace her elbow rather than let it drift into the strings path. She glanced for walkers once more before stepping slowly into the glade. The horse instantly saw her and snorted in warning.

          Licking her lips nervously Isabelle offered her hand out to it, it snorted again and pawed the ground in agitation. The mare stood warily, eyes following her as she approached. She reached out again and clicked her tongue as she had once to call the mare back to her, she offered her hand for the horse to scent. Her fingers brushed against its nose and she almost cried at the softness as it blew warm air over her fingers. It blew at her again before resuming grazing, her hands stroked all over, making note of any cuts or sores and finding none. Carefully she jumped onto her back, the mare not bothering to bat an eye as she raised her head and glanced back at Isabelle.

          Isabelle gently squeezed her calves and felt the mare move off towards the prison as she knotted her fingers gently in her mane. She laughed with joy and urged the horse forwards into a canter. With the smooth gait and simple power beneath her she was back at the prison in no time. She called for the gates to open, Maggie staring down at her from the watchtower as she guided the mare through. Sliding from its side she let it graze and knelt in the long grass watching it with the widest grin she had worn in weeks. She couldn’t believe her luck! To have her old companion back, it was more than she could have ever dreamed of happening.

“Where did you find that?” Maggie demanded appearing by her side.

“She was an hour’s walk away, grazing in a glade. I should probably name her now. Rick will be ok with her being here won’t he? I can get a fenced pen sorted, make sure she doesn’t eat the crops?” She asked, full of enthusiasm as Rick approached from the rows of vegetables.

“Build it quick or I’ll put it down for a meal if it eats anything I’ve grown,” He demanded, Isabelle could see the amusement and concern vying for attention in his eyes. She was still far from his favourite person but she had started to earn his tolerance with her increased helpfulness. “There’s wood over there. Get on with it, it’s not staying loose at night when I can’t keep an eye on it.”

“It’s alright, I won’t let it eat your carrots,” Isabelle smiled and headed for the pile of wood, the mare trailing after her apparently happy to be reunited.

          The pen came along quickly as people realised what she was doing and hurried to help. Isabelle was the first to admit she was the most comfortable around hammers and nails. The help got the pen up in no time, a small roof providing relief from the sun and wind that Isabelle could never have crafted on her own. The mare seemed to know instantly that the space was for her and trundled through the gateway without prompting chewing down the long grass contentedly.

“So this is the mare?” Isabelle turned to smile at Alex as he approached, a lop sided grin on his handsome face.

“Hey, yeah. This is her, the sole reason I’m alive right now,” Alex pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I finally decided to name her! She’s called Chance, like second chance,” Isabelle leaned back into his chest as he wrapped his arms about her waist from behind and kissed her neck.

“Chance, I like that,” Alex whispered, biting the sensitive skin of her throat gently.

          Isabelle turned in his arms and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, he laughed against her softly. He’d come from Woodbury with the rest of the survivors and had taken it upon himself to make her smile. It had been a brief, intense time of heated discussions and stolen kisses. He knew every button to press to make her weak at the knees and had exploited them frequently in the past week to get her finally to admit her desire. He was just her type, tall, model gorgeous, lean and toned with a wicked grin that made her knees tremble. Sometimes she wondered what she was doing, this whirlwind romance suiting the apocalypse but scaring her at the same time. She’d heard rumours that he wasn’t a good man but he’d done nothing to cause her concern, treating her as if she was still the elegant renowned ballerina she had once been.

“Got another stallion for you to ride…” He growled in her ear and Isabelle felt the grin spread over her face quicker than lightning could flash.

          His hand grabbed hers and pulled her towards the far end of the grass compound, the sun was just beginning to reach the treeline casting long shadows. Isabelle glanced around to ensure no one was watching before pushing Alex onto his back. His hands were everywhere, as she kissed him and pushed her jacket away before ripping her jumper over her head. Hands worked with hers at the jeans buttons and they pulled and tugged them free, laughing as she fell to his side and kicked them away. His hands were on her instantly, gently pushing her into the grass as he kissed and licked over her collarbone, pushing the bra strap aside as he went. Isabelle gasped, arching up into him as warm hands covered her breasts and stroked down her waist.

“I thought you said I could ride?” She whispered, biting his earlobe gently as he shoved his jeans down.

“Make me let you…” He hissed, biting her neck in a tender balance of roughness and gentleness until she moaned with desire.

          With a wicked grin Isabelle wrapped her legs around his waist and used her body weight to flip him underneath her. It was a move Daryl had taught her during one of the many self-defence sessions he’d run through with her practically every day since Woodbury, even with her small stature she was capable of holding her own now even if he still despaired at her pathetic attempts at punches. Her hands pinned Alex’s over his head as she kissed him into submission, grinding her hips against his. She was distracted by the sound of a motorcycle engine and turned to look as it travelled up the pathway.

Daryl’s eyes were straight ahead but she knew he’d seen them and all thoughts of pleasure left her. Alex, still breathing heavily underneath her, ran his hands up her stomach to cup her breasts. He bit the soft skin of one causing her to yelp in surprise and pain. She pushed his hands away and stood up, pulling her bra straight and throwing her jacket on before buckling her jeans back up, forgetting the jumper as she left him in the grass. He jumped up and grabbed her wrist.

“Hey, what’s the deal? Come on, no one can see us,” Alex pressed her close to him despite her struggles to get away.

“Stop, I don’t want to anymore,” Isabelle pleaded and gasped in pain as his grip tightened on her wrist and twisted, forcing her to turn and face him. “You’re hurting me!”

“Come on baby,” Alex hissed, his fingers pinching against her chin as he pulled her face round to his and forced a hard kiss onto her lips. His other hand pushed down into her jeans, pulling at her panties.

“Stop!” Isabella shouted, pushing herself away, he reached for her and without a thought she slapped him hard across the cheek.

          Without a backwards glance Isabelle jogged back to the prison and stormed into the cells. She threw herself face down onto her bed. No was no, even in the apocalypse. She understood his frustration, she didn’t know what had happened to her. In the solitude of her own cell she felt an overwhelming number of thoughts swirling nonsensical in her brain. Alex’s treatment barely crossed her mind, her thoughts almost completely consumed by the confusion that the sight of Daryl had caused. It didn’t matter if he saw, she told herself.

In her heart it did though, she’d known deep down since she saw him return from Woodbury that all she wanted was Daryl and she’d denied it repeatedly. The past two weeks she’d fought down the urge to see him as anything more than her instructor in self-defence and on the whole she’d succeeded. The training sessions had never been awkward, never uncomfortable. The devotion from Alex had been so intense and distracting, it had made her feel alive and she’d followed her lust. She’d allowed his distraction to take her attention away from Daryl, transfer it onto him. With his platinum blond hair, startling blue eyes, ripped physique he was to die for in regards to looks, practically an Adonis.

Daryl had made it clear he wanted nothing more than a platonic relationship. Their training sessions were sweaty and frequently they were pressed up against each other yet there was never any hint of anything erotic coming from him. She needed to move on, these thoughts only bothered her when she wasn’t busy and it wasn’t like there was a plethora of choice out there anymore. Isabelle stirred at the curtain letting in daylight and stared at Alex over her shoulder, he looked furious as he stepped up to her.

“What the hell are you playing at?” He demanded as he stood before her quaking with anger, clenched fists at his sides.

“I don’t want to do this anymore,” Isabelle responded calmly, sitting up to face him. “I’m sorry, it was fun but that’s all it was…”

“Fun? You wind me up like that and don’t finish? You owe me a hell of a lot more than that one night. I’ve been nothing but kind and considerate,” Alex hissed, his face closing in on her. He grabbed her face in a vice like grip, “Think you’d get it any better anywhere else?”

          Isabelle pulled her head from his grasp and pushed away from her bunk. She stood to address him face to face only to be sent reeling by the crack of a hard fist against her left cheekbone. Tumbling to the floor she cried out as he ripped the jacket from her back and used it to pin her arms as she lay on her stomach on the concrete. He started pulling at her jeans. She gasped in pain as he tried to roughly flip her onto her back, getting her onto her side before she started resisting again. Angrily she slammed her foot into his ankle with the increased freedom of movement. Pushing herself up right swiftly as he stumbled backwards she kicked into his stomach hard with a side kick sending him stumbling into the doorway as she shrugged the jacket free from her arms. He caught himself on the doorframe and moved to punch her, she ducked, landed a punch to his already bruised gut and head-butted into his nose as he grabbed for her hair, hearing the satisfying crunch of his nose breaking. Isabelle watched as he fell backwards into the hallway, the rest of the group in the cell block staring dumbly as Alex lay still, his fingers pinching his nose and cursing vilely.

“Don’t ever come near me again,” Isabelle screamed at him and stalked out of the cell block into the night not caring she was only in her now torn jeans and bra.

          Stepping into the courtyard she made her way into the field. The air good and chill on her skin as her chest heaved with the loss of adrenaline and she dropped to her knees in the grass. Slowly she laughed remembering what she had just done. Never in her life had she imagined she could have done that. Shaking with the memory she brushed the tears from her eyes and laughed a little louder as she dropped onto her back and stretched her legs out. What she would have given to have that knowledge all those years ago. The trauma it could have saved her, her hand pressed to the old scar on her stomach.

“Hey, you all right?” Daryl stepped up, watching her curiously as she snapped her hand away from the scar and glanced up at him.

“Yeah, I guess those lessons paid off, thank you. He was going to…” Isabelle drifted off as Daryl held out her leather jacket. “Thanks,” She pulled it on, feeling self-conscious as she pulled the zip up realising he was trying not to stare at her pathetic excuse for a bra.

“That was some show. Didn’t think a little bit like you would have had it in you,” Daryl smirked and dropped next to her in the grass keeping a respectful distance. “I’d heard rumours about his… tastes. Rick’s throwing him out now.”

          Isabelle frowned and brushed at the grass stains on her knees. Her eyes trailed up to the stars, it was a clear but warm night. At least he’d stand a sporting chance tonight. She hadn’t meant for him to be expelled from the group. They watched in silence as Alex was frog marched down to the gateway, he swore and cursed at her, threatened with every horror he could think of and strained against the men holding him. Isabelle watched as he was tossed unceremoniously out, a bag thrown at his feet, he kicked at the dirt before realising how close the walkers were. She watched as he ran without a backwards glance, he’d survive she was sure. Whether she would if they ever met again was a different matter.

“What drew you to him anyway?” Daryl asked, she looked at him out of the corner of her eye.

“He was kind to me,” Isabelle whispered not wanting to admit the real reason.

“Isn’t everyone?” Daryl leaned backwards forcing her to turn to look him in the eye.

“Yes, some more than others but it doesn’t mean the same thing,” He lowered his eyes at that and Isabelle looked away too feeling uncomfortable.

“Because you saw me wasn’t it?” Daryl whispered, barely audible.

          Isabelle looked back at him, her eyes locking with his, sincerely praying he would read the truth in her eyes so that she didn’t have to admit it to the open air. He raised an eyebrow and slowly she nodded and looked away. Daryl rose and left her to her thoughts, she watched him leave, a tear falling for an entirely different reason this time. She should have denied it, the friendship had been going well, and the awkwardness had faded into nothing only to now re-emerge its ugly head.

Her hand brushed the single tear away angrily and she let out a long sigh to calm her heart again. This was a mess, lusting after someone who did not want anything to do with her like that. With a groan she pushed herself back onto her feet and brushed away the strands of grass before returning to the prison. Cell block C was still very much awake although they tried not to make it obvious. Isabelle slunk into her cell and closed the door. Her fingers trailed on the cold metal before she retreated to her bed.
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Survival Isn't An Option