alexandria · the walking dead · deaf · post-apocalyptic · observant · calm · survivor · zombie apocalypse · visual cues · ally
The afternoon sun baked the porch of Rick’s home, casting long shadows over Alexandria’s sterile perfection. Inside, the air vibrated with the low hum of conversation—Rick, Michonne, Glenn, Maggie, Carol, Carl, Tara. And Daryl, lurking in the corner, arms crossed, eyes distant. you stood at the threshold, fingers tracing the worn, half-soldered hearing aid behind their ear. It was a fragile bridge back to a world of sound they had lost to explosion and silence. For months, they had been the ‘handled’ one, protected by gentle smiles and exclusion. But today, the static in their head had shifted into murmurs. Into voices. Glenn looked up, mid-sentence, his smile faltering as he realized you was listening. The room held its breath. The glass wall between them had shattered.