Daryl felt the sense of dread wash over him when the gates of Alexandria opened for them. A reluctant welcome to the group.

Daryl shot a opossum and announced that he brought dinner just to give the Alexandria people the idea of their more savage ways. This concreted when Rick ordered Sasha to shoot a Walker. She did with graceful ease.

When the gates shut behind them, Daryl's chest grew tighter, feeling already caged.

A woman with kind eyes, who introduced herself as Deanna, along with her husband ran Alexandria and forced the newcomers to be interviewed before allowing entrance.

As soon as the interviews were over, Deanna decided to take the new group on a short tour before leaving them to go settle in.

She led them through the streets. The buildings were mostly posh houses and stores. People went about their day, some tilling gardens, others repairing fences. It was a far cry from the chaos Rick's group had left behind.

"We are united as one here," Deanna explained, a genuine smile creasing her face. "We've been here since the beginning of all this. We have rules, of course, but we try to make it as normal as possible."

She showed them the pharmacy, the clocktower, and the armory, stocked with an impressive collection of salvaged weaponry. It was all rather... ordinary. Too ordinary for Daryl's liking.

"We're a small community, but we look out for each other," Deanna continued. "Everyone has their role here."

As she spoke, Rick's group was taken to a large garden. People were tending to the plants and soil. Fruit and veg were large and full. It surprised the group to see such bright colours.

"Ah! My boys." Deanna said, gesturing for two young men towards her. One was in his late teens and another in his early twenties. She introduced them. "Rick and his people, these are my sons, Aiden and Spencer." She nudged her eldest, "Say hi to our new friends."

Spencer rolled his eyes but waved, "Hi."

Aiden huffed a laugh.

The chatter of the Alexandrians died down as a figure emerged from the shadows of a dilapidated barn. She got everyone's attention, including Daryl's.

She was immense. Six foot three, maybe taller, with shoulders that could rival a linebacker's. Her arms were thick with corded muscle, visible even beneath the worn, sleeveless vest she wore. Her head was shaved close, and the most striking thing was the network of scars that laced her skin. Some were thin and silvery, others thick and puckered, a roadmap of old battles and harsh encounters. The most astonishing one was the one on her face. It started at her chin, slashing diagonally across her lip, causing the upper lip to taunt inwards, showing her front tooth even when her lips were closed. The scar travelled across her cheek then dashed up and over her left eye, parting her eyebrow and ending on her forehead. Her left eye was a milky white while the other eye was a bright brown, telling all that she was half-blinded.

Rick's people seemed to gape at the personified warrior a few feet in front of them.

Deanna's smile faltered. She forced a little chuckle. "That's... well, that's Frankie."

Frankie didn't acknowledge the new presence. She was busy hoisting a massive crate of what looked like salvaged farm equipment. She moved with a fluid grace that belied her hulking size. When she did look their way, her gaze was cold as glacial ice.

"We call her Frankenstein," Spencer said, his voice confident, humorous. A few of the Alexandrians snickered, some shifting their gaze uncomfortably.

Daryl felt his stomach clenched.

Frankenstein?

It was a cruel, reductive name. The scars spoke of a life lived hard, not some monstrous creation. It was obvious that the nickname, while tossed aside with a laugh, was a way of distancing themselves from her, making her 'other' within their group.

Frankie didn't react. She simply finished loading the crate onto a beat-up cart, then turned and as she walked back into the barn, Daryl saw the scars on her back. Hauntingly familiar. It made his own flesh burn.

A thick pall hung in the air. The Alexandrians went back to their work, but the casual air Deanna had been trying to cultivate had disappeared.

Later, while helping unload their own supplies, Daryl found himself watching Frankie from afar. She was working alone, methodically clearing debris from an old vegetable patch. Her movements were precise and efficient, her strength undeniable. He couldn't shake the feeling that the 'Frankenstein' label was a shield they had given her, a way to avoid facing the reality of who she was. It seemed impossible that a woman of such power and presence could be so easily dismissed.

Carol nudged his side and when he glanced at her, she had a facial expression he didn't recognise.

"What?" He gruffed.

"Nothin'." She teased, "I just think you've finally got eyes on someone worth your watching."

"Shut up." He nudged her back, making her chuckle.

****

That night, gathered together in one house, the newcomers, now freshened up for the first time in months, bellies full and in clean clothes, they all felt like new people.

It didn't take them long to start discussing what they had seen on the tour.

And soon, they talked in hushed tones about Frankie.

"I've never seen a woman so tall." Said Glenn, settling himself next to Maggie.

"And all that muscle?" Carl beamed, excited, "What is she, a gladiator?"

"Nah. She's military." Said Abraham.

Maggie asked, "How can you tell?"

"I know one of my own when I see it."

Daryl cut in, "And she was wearing Dog-tags." He noticed them earlier, twinkling against her chest in the sunlight.

"She was?"

Carol then spoke up, "It looked like she's been through hell. Those scars aren't from falling down."

"Maybe they are from the military." Carl concluded, "The war before this one."

Michonne came out from the bathroom, sighing happily, "How long was I in there?"

"20 minutes." Rick smirked.

"God, I could not stop brushing. Huh." She looked at Rick's smooth face, "I've never-- I've never seen your face like that."

The leader rubbed his face, "That's what I felt before and after."

She sighed, voice lower and quiet, "Look I get why we're playing it safe. We should. I just-- I have a good feeling about this place."

"Well, I hope you're right."

"Yeah, me, too."

A knock at the door sent everyone silent.

Rick opened it and in came Deanna.

"Rick, I-- - Wow." She had to look at him twice, "I didn't know what was under there. Listen, I don't mean to interrupt. I just wanted to stop by and see how you were all settling. Oh, my." She scanned the room, "Staying together. Smart."

"No one said we couldn't."

"You said you're a family. Absolutely amazing to me how people with completely different backgrounds and nothing in common can become that. Don't you think?"

"Everybody said you gave them jobs."

"Mm-hmm. Yeah. Part of this place. Looks like the communists won after all."

Rick raised an eyebrow, "Well, you didn't give me one."

"I have. I just haven't told you yet. Same with Michonne. I'm closing in on something for Sasha. And I'm just trying to figure Mr Dixon out, but I will." She looked back at him, smiling, "You look good."

"If this is how you're saying it is then this is what we wanted. We're ready for this." Rick insisted.

Deanna gave a little smirk, "All of you?"

"All of us."

When Deanna left, everyone settled for some sleep.

As some gently nodded off, Daryl found himself unable to sleep, staring out the window and into the night. His own mind was a maelstrom of conflicting thoughts. The Alexandrians had offered them safety, but their treatment of Frankie, this silent, powerful woman, had left a bitter taste in his mouth. The sanctuary had a crack in its foundation. He wondered what unspeakable trials Frankie had endured to earn those scars, and why the so-called 'kind souls' of the people of Alexandria found it easier to label her a monster than to acknowledge her as a fellow survivor, a human being.

As the embers of the fire died down in the fireplace, Daryl knew that their safety within those walls wasn't the only question on his mind. Frankie, or the so-called Frankenstein, was a mystery, and perhaps, she was the key to understanding the true nature of this new sanctuary. The apocalypse had created monsters, not just the walking dead, but the monsters within humanity, and sometimes people were more dangerous than the Walkers - and Daryl had this feeling of this place being so much more than its letting on. 

Author's Note : 

Hey! I'm back with a new Walking Dead Story! :3 

Thank you to all the voting on what I should write next and I'm so excited to give you all Frankie. She is an amazing character and I really hope you stick by and read her story and the relationship she and Daryl will share. Sooo... See you soon :3 <3