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The Darkest Storm

The Black Sheep

The anticipated thrill rises from his bones as he watches the once anchored and dependable group spin out of control. It dazzles him; the way each member holds a sense of distrust and uneasiness at every turn. Its leader has grown leery, like a wall clasped shut from a gate. The group as a whole, is exhausted and at its edge. They are afraid, no matter how much they try to hide it from him.

And Merle, well, Merle always has to make things worse. He will casually lurks behind walls and in the shadows, making crafty comments to confuse them or doubt themselves entirely. Christ, just by raising an eyebrow he has them on their toes. It is almost as if he is challenging them. Impress me.

But in reality, outside the Georgian explorer and hardened dreamer’s mind, Merle has entered the prison with everything but impunity. The defensiveness is high and unpredictable, and as he stands before them, he looks like the devil. If it wasn’t for Daryl, the possibility of him being there alive in that moment is highly unlikely.

Merle turns his head around slightly after he hears a noise behind him, the sound of the second door from the inside sliding shut. Darcy walks through the cafeteria, and the sunlight gives her a different ambiance than the rest of the group that Merle notices straightaway. It is something different then what he saw in the woods a few nights ago. No, actually, this is familiar. Something is off about this girl – as if he has seen her face before.

The memory instantly reveals itself to him in his wandering thoughts. The picture. The picture on the dresser. Oh, this would start something. Something big. He wonders if they would treat her the same when they find out; when she herself finds out.

Merle suddenly scans Darcy up and down and puts a menacing look that spreads from ear to ear. He leans up against the metal door that is locked in front of him, separating himself from the others. He peers into the cellblock where the rest of the group is huddled before standing up straight when she gets closer.

The cold shoulder she gives is adamant. Darcy does not even give him the satisfaction by looking his way. He is like a ghost, a memory she wishes she never experienced.

Before she could put the key in the lock, he stops her. His head is cocked to the right and he rocks himself slightly. Merle chuckles to himself before holding out a hand to block her way.

“Aw, come on sweetheart. Ya still bent outta shape ‘bout that bow of yours?” He licks his lips. “Or is it that ya’ll ‘n my baby brother had a lil’ lovers tiff?”

Darcy looks up to him, “Go to hell, Merle.”

The glare she holds is powerful, and he shakes it by forcing a chuckle. He then catches a slight movement in the cellblock that’s strangely close to the two. From above on the second floor of cells, Daryl leans over the railing and watches them intently. Merle lets his eyes flicker back and forth between the two for just a moment, and he backs down.

Darcy doesn’t see it happen. Her mind has been completely blank ever since the previous night. But when she enters the cellblock, she immediately feels Daryl’s stare on her. She chooses not to search for him to see where it was coming from. Darcy instead walks over towards Maggie and leans up against the wall, listening to Rick and Hershel arguing.

“We’re not leaving.” Rick demands. He picks up his holster off the ground and stands; he is the center of the circled group.

“We can’t stay here.” Hershel sits on the stairs. His voice reveals that it is obvious he has grown frustrated with their apprehensive leader.

“What if there’s another sniper?” Maggie reloads her weapon; her voice is rushed and flustered. “A wood pallet won’t stop one of those rounds.”

Beth stands at the top of the stairs, “We can’t even go outside…”

“….Not in the daylight.” Carol finishes for her.

“If Rick says we’re not running, we’re not running.” Glenn points his finger harshly down at the ground in a matter-of-fact tone. Darcy scoffs, she thinks the five minutes he had being the so called ‘leader’ of the group in the core 3’s absence has gone to his head.

“No, better to live like rats.”

The group turns slowly towards Merle; as if they’ve just witnessed him say the cruelest remark. Rick points at him unconvincingly. “You got a better idea?”

Merle waves his hand like it was obvious, “Yeah, we should have slid out of here last night and lived to fight another day. But we lost that window, didn’ we? I’m sure he’s got scouts on every road out of this place by now.”

Daryl walks across the perch towards his brother, “We ain’t scared of that prick.”

Her gaze reluctantly falls on Daryl above her as she tucks a stray wave behind her ear. Their eyes meet, and there is instantly a dead iron weight where the once warmth and spark should have been. The time and stories and shy smiles the two hunters once shared together are far behind them, and Darcy has to tare herself away and quickly swallow the tightness that ceases to form in her throat. It’s quite depressing how fast things can change.

Darcy crosses her arms and her thoughts retreat to the back of her mind. She has to get past this, this feeling that brings her back to the first days with the group. Quiet, reserved, introverted. Darcy is a processor. Only if she were asked she would give her opinion. With everything going on around her and inside her heart and mind, she wasn’t too sure if she has a valuable opinion to the others anymore, regardless of what importance they told her she has.

It was as if her guard was back up just like the beginning when she was introduced to this family. The huge step back her and Daryl had had ultimately caused it. After all, it was the deepest and truest relationship she’s ever had with anybody all throughout her life.

Darcy lets her head fall back against the wall, arms crossed tightly to her chest. She takes in a long, slow, rattling breath. In an instant, the familiar dull ache seeps back into her chest and pulses at her temples. She grimaces; it was going to be another long, fearful day.

She is exhausted, completely emotionally drained by the pretense she tries so hard to keep up. Darcy Shaw: the strong, witty, determined now twenty-seven year old with a loyal heart for everyone and anyone who asks.

Darcy rolls her eyes to herself. Christ, she was being so unbearably pathetic. There was still a chance for them, Darcy knows that. And as Daryl keeps his strong protectant gaze upon her, he knows it too. It was just getting past this moment, these feelings, and these unnatural circumstances of dealing with a different kind of enemy at the gates.

And it wasn’t just the two who hoped it would get back to normal soon. Without their strong hold they shared, it was as if there was a great schism between the entire group. And then of course, there was Daryl’s brother.

“Ya’ll should be.” Merle nods. “That truck through the fence thing, tha’s just him ringin’ the doorbell. We might have some thick walls to hide behind, but he’s got the guns, and the numbers. And if he takes the high ground around this place, shoot.” Merle scoffs. “He could just starve us out if he wanted to.”

Maggie grows restless beside Darcy, but she is too focused on Merle’s words to realize it until her words snap her out of her trance.

“Let’s put him in the other cellblock.”

“No.” Darcy gently shakes her head and looks to the ground for a moment. Her voice was quiet and hoarse, but everyone hears her loud and clear. They stop, and wait for her to continue. Some wear shocked or somewhat appalled expressions, Daryl included.

“He’s right.” She rubs the bridge of her nose like she is ashamed of herself for admitting it. “Merle knows how the Governor thinks, and he’s apart of this now. We should at least…consider what he says.” Darcy points with a heavy sigh.

Merle purses his lips and nods slowly, his eyes glancing to Daryl up above. “This girl’s got it.” He states.

“Why should we!” Maggie is visually frustrated, “This is his fault! This is all you, you started this!” She turns to Merle and yells.

Beth walks down the stairs, “What’s the difference whose fault it is?” She looks to Rick, “What do we do?”

“I said we should leave.” Hershel waves his hand. “Now Axel’s dead. We can’t just sit here.”
Rick looks back to his old friend, the voice of all reason. Darcy brings her head up and waits, furrowing her eyebrows a bit at the lack of direct response that used to be a valuable trait that Rick had. But he says nothing. Instead, Rick tries to walk casually out of the cellblock as if no one had their eyes on him.

Hershel has grown furious. He stands, solid on his crutches and yells like a mighty being, “GET BACK HERE.” Rick is hesitant to stop, but he does eventually. “You’re slipping Rick. We’ve all seen it. We understand why. But now is not the time.”

Rick can’t seem to bring himself to look at Hershel face to face. His back is towards the old man, and Hershel continues. “You once said this isn’t a democracy? Now you have to own up to that. I put my family’s life in your hands. So get your head clear, and do something.”

-

Darcy stands with her elbow leaning up against one of the wooden pallets they’ve set up outside against the fences. She picks at the loose gray paint of the metal rings, revealing the rusted orange chips underneath it. The sun is starting to rise for the day, it’s barely past noon, and although she stands in the shade, the heat beats down on her regardless.

Darcy bites lightly on her bottom lip, her eyes squinting and scanning the forest line. She lets out a sigh when she realizes all she can see are the free walkers roaming around the fields. It was exhausting, going back and forth, and now they all have to hide from an even bigger threat that was most likely watching her as she watched them.

The door behind her creaks open a slither, and she turns around to see Daryl. His back faces her as he slides the door shut, and she quickly turns around before the familiar blue eyes steal her gaze.

“It’s my watch.” She tells him.

“Thought ya could use some help.” Darcy hears him shut the door with a loud ‘click,’ before he makes his way to stand next to her. Out of habit, he positions himself to just barely brush her shoulder. “’R some company.” He shrugs shyly.

Darcy just feels the slight touch of skin on skin and she clears her throat, the familiar feeling rushing over her. She casually leans on her right foot, breaking contact from him and he takes a step back noticing it for what it was.

“I’ve got it.” She forces a closed mouth smile. Darcy can’t bring herself to face him, she’s scared the comforting nod or simple smirk will make her falter like old times. Instead she links her fingers through the fence and keeps her eyes steady on watch.

“How’s ya arm?” Daryl asks, his voice growing more and more defeated with every hasty response she gives him.

Darcy nods and looks down to the wrapped up wound. “Sore.” Her voice is lowered as she starts to feel the familiar atmosphere between them. “Hershel said it was just a ricochet.”

Daryl gives a slow nod and shifts his weight while he picks at his fingers. He lets his thumb and forefinger grab gently at her elbow to get her attention, “Thanks for stickin’ up for him back there, what ya said –“

“I didn’t do it for him, Daryl.” His name rolling casually of her tongue sent a spark between them both. She taps her finger on the fence. “We’re in this shit-storm because of him, you do know that right?

Darcy turns to him suddenly, and the bruise on her left cheek catches Daryl’s attention immediately. Even after a few days, the spot is still swollen and has grown dark in color. He wants so desperately to reach up and gently rub the sore spot to comfort her, to just hold her again, but he resists that urge.

“He say he’s sorry yet?” Daryl speaks up. “’Cause he is. Just needs a lil’ forgiveness is all. Glenn, Maggie -” He says this hesitantly.

Darcy scoffs, “Good luck with those two.”

“And you?” He lifts his head.

“I don’t think I was every angry with Merle about him attacking me.” Darcy squints her eyes in thought. “He didn’t know who I was.”

“But with me, it’s a different story?” Daryl points.

“Is that why you came out here?” Darcy asks, somewhat aggravated. She’s not in the mood to talk about this again, especially since she believes it will end up the same if not worse. “To fight about this again?”

“Ain’t givin’ up on this so soon.” He shakes his head, standing next to her once again. They both look out into the fields and trees now, waiting for Darcy to respond. She does in a mumble after a few silent moments.

“Should ‘a thought of that before you high-tailed it out of here-“

“Dammit, Darcy what do you want me to do!” Daryl stands back and raises his arms. “How many times I gotta tell ya, he’s my brother I couldn’ just leave him!”

“I want you to know what I went through!” She yells back.

“Did ya ever think for one second what it cost me? What I went through knowin’ you weren’ gonna be with me anymore?” Daryl steps into Darcy then, harsh breaths coming from out of his nose. His nostrils are flared, and his jaw is clenched shut. “Ya think it was just a breeze for me to walk away from ya? From everybody?”

Darcy watches him with a cold stare, and she is somewhat taken aback at his outburst. She’s upset him again. Here he is trying to make things right again, and she had to mess it up and let her guard take a stand.

Daryl doesn’t hesitate to continue. It was now or never that he would have the chance to express himself fully to the woman he cared most for before him. He knew she felt he didn’t understand her side, but he did, so he tells her exactly that without holding back even though his own guard grows defensive with each word – he is still himself after all.

Although it is interesting to think, and yet totally beautiful, how far Daryl has really come. In their early days together, Daryl has pushed Darcy and the entire group away, not wanting to deal with feelings or emotions that would take him by surprise every minute she caught his stare, or if someone felt too close. He became the image of a wounded animal, often growing defensive, cowering at the slightest of touch, or denying in a feeble attempt any attraction towards Darcy, even though it was quite obvious alongside the obvious aspects of their continually developing relationship, he couldn’t tare himself away.

Now, after he has felt the loss of her absence more than once - uncontrollably and unwillingly, might I add – and the chance of losing her for good while she stands in front of him, it has shaken up his heart and mind, redesigning his way of purpose and fortitude to be good enough, to no longer be inadequate, to no longer feel undeserving of a woman’s love – her love. He believes he first became aware of it back on the road, after the herd and fire tore down the farm.

Christ, Daryl has never met or known any woman quite like her. He has grown to appreciate her presence and atmosphere, her comfort and smile. She truly uplifts him, strengthens him, and centers him in the man he has become. She has always brought out the better man than him, has become his rock, and vise versa.

Today, though, his heart is truly on his sleeve, and he recognizes the necessity of finally stepping up emotionally. Daryl thinks this is the real reason behind her anger and sadness for being left behind, that it was not necessarily the action, but the meaning behind it. She wanted to know how he felt towards her. She needed to know. He believes this is what it will take to have her as his forever, to stop what seems to be a never-ending whirlwind, to finally get things back to normal.

“Missed ya every minute.” Daryl’s breath started to settle, and the two hunters kept eyes locked, icy-blue on amber, and he shakes his head. “Ya know what the worst part was? Caught me completely by surprise. “

He takes a step back and points to the fields. “Caught myself just walkin’ around to find ya. Not for no reason, just out of habit, ‘cause maybe I’d seen somethin’ I wanted to show ya or because I wanted to hear your voice.”

Daryl roughly shifts his weight back and forth and talks with his hands. This shows Darcy he was telling the truth in his angst and awkwardness. “’N then I’d realize that you weren’ there no-more, and every time, every single time, it was like havin’ the air kicked out of me.”

Daryl steps forward, leaning down to aggressively get her attention since she has adverted her eyes in shame. “That sound about right?” His glare still showed anger and yet, caring for her at the same time.

Darcy keeps her head down but her eyes stay on him. She can’t bring herself to say anything because she’s completely speechless. Once again, this man whom she’d never expected to find in such a chaotic world surprises her. And for the first time, she was shown how wrong she was.

“Maybe it’s you who needs to think things over, yeah?” Daryl points back at her weakly as he walks up to the prison door. He opens it with a frustrated yank and disappears inside, leaving her outside dumbfounded and knowing it was in fact her that had made this all the more worse between them.

Daryl was right, she had a lot to think about.

Notes

Whew. Writers block is NOT FUN PEOPLE. But I am really happy with how this turned out - let me know what you think! (Comments make me write faster you know, just in case you were thinking of leaving a note or whatnot ;) )

Jane.

Comments

Please update this is such an amazing story and I'm dying to know what happens next!!!

Ash8 Ash8
1/22/19

@LoriG
Part 66 is up ;)

@aphishinthec
Argh you got my hopes up- I saw an update, but it was you replying to my last messaege! Please can you update @bikingthroughflowers ? Thank you!

LoriG LoriG
6/25/18

@LoriG Right?!?! Need to know how she would handle Negan.

I'm also desperate to know how Darcy would fare in the storyline now. Pleeeeeease don't give up on this fic, I'm reading it AGAIN! <3<3<3

aphishinthec aphishinthec
4/6/18

I’d love to know how Darcy would deal with Negan... you need to update surely?! Still love this story, and just read it again!

LoriG LoriG
7/31/17