Login with:

Facebook

Twitter

Tumblr

Google

Yahoo

Aol.

Mibba

Your info will not be visible on the site. After logging in for the first time you'll be able to choose your display name.

The Hunter Within

Always Accountable

Though Daryl was woken with a rude hiss, and though his eyes fluttered open to find himself looking down the barrel of a pistol, his first thought was of Sophie. Glaring at the man behind the weapon as he disengaged the safety, meeting his slightly unsure gaze, Daryl found himself worrying not for himself, but whether or not she was waiting for him back home. Because that’s what it is now, her words echoed through the silence as he shifted his weight ever so slightly. Having spent the night drifting in and out of consciousness, proper up against the tree behind him, his shoulders complained at the movement, his entire back stiff and muscles knotted.
“We’ve moving,” the man finally spoke, his thin face still hiding behind the barrel of his poor excuse of a lifeline just as Daryl worked to hide behind his hair. Over his shoulder, the two women from the day before watched on with a sense of anticipation, as if they really believed Daryl would let him pull the trigger. “Here’s the deal. You don’t say shit, and I don’t kill you.”
Focusing back on his capture, Daryl considered the conversation he had caught over the duration of the night as he won momentary battles against the unconsciousness that worked to claim his thoughts. Probably just another soldier from the outposts, the man had assured the women, probably hates him, too. “I ain’t who you think.”
The familiar click that followed, the way the barrel found itself a little closer to his face, told Daryl that he had overstepped. “Say something else, go ahead,” the man challenged him with a dangerous tone as the women behind him collected their belongings to make a move. “Get up. Follow them. Go.”
Giving the cocked pistol a wide berth, Daryl did exactly that, feeling in no position to refuse the command. Not without his crossbow, and not if he wanted to get back to Sophie. Once upon a time, perhaps he would have tried to fight his way out of there, and perhaps he would have died the way Merle had believed all men should, but now, now he had a different kind of battle to win, it just another in what seemed to be a never-ending stream of separation. These days, it felt like his war was less with the dead, and more with the rest of the world, it seeming adamant in its attempt to keep he and Sophie apart.
Moving ahead of the man, Daryl touched at his lips before letting his hands fall into their bound position before him. Letting his body slump a little more, he worked at appearing a little wearier than he actually was, if that were possible. With the blonde man behind him, Daryl found that he was able to study the women before him a little more carefully, deciding that while the brown haired one might provide some sort of fight if he were able to off the man, the smaller one wouldn’t give him any sort of trouble. Shifting his weight, Daryl shied away from the thought of killing two women just so he could return to one. Not just anyone, he told himself as his fingers curled a little tighter, yours.
As they shuffled through the burnt out forest, his eyes flickering over the blackened world around him with unwavering caution, Daryl wondered if she was worrying about him too. He wondered if she was perched up on the guard tower by the gate, leaning up against her staff as she waited for his bike to rumble down the road towards her. He wondered if she had slept last night, or if she had taken comfort in the unmade state of the living room couch, in the way the cushions and blanket had been moulded into the shape of his frame by sleep the night before. Daring to touch at his lips, he tried to ignore the tug of knowing, knowing deep down that if the tables were turned, there would be no way he would be still inside those walls, let alone sleeping.
Glancing around the forest, he hoped that she wasn’t out there somewhere, that Rick had managed the impossible and kept her inside the walls. If anyone was going to keep her there, it would be him, after all. Though it had been a long time since he had stood before them as their official leader, Rick still held the kind of authority that Sophie respected, the kind that she would occasionally abide by. She never listens to me, he sulked internally, despite knowing the pettiness of his thoughts, despite knowing deep down that she did. She spent a long winter on the road listening to him, learning how to hunt, how to track. She learnt how to build a fire that wouldn’t be seen and how to move through the forest without being heard all through listening to him. Over, and over, and over again.
“Here,” a voice pulled him from his guilty admittance. “Drink the rest.”
Realising that it wasn’t him that was being spoken too, Daryl worked at ignoring the dryness that resided in his throat as the brown haired woman offered the smaller one a half-filled bottle. “We shoulder save it.”
“We’ll find some more. Drink,” she argued somewhat knowingly. “You are supposed to stay hydrated, remember. It all works together.” Trying not to lick his lips, Daryl worked at ignoring the way the smaller woman sipped at the water tentatively before handing it back to the other, who in turn, paused to offer it to him with an undeniable air of reluctance. “Take it.”
Though his body begged for it, Daryl showed no signs of it, moving passed the women with little consideration for the hydration she was offering him. “We don’t need you falling down,” the blonde haired man all but snarled as he took the bottle to shove it against Daryl’s chest a little too roughly, water droplets splashing against the material that barely clung to it. “Drink.”
Taking the bottle with a single bound hand, he assessed the trio before lifting it to his lips, locking it in place with his teeth as he gulped the incredibly welcomed liquid down greedily. The dryness of his throat relished in the lukewarm water, the bottle emptying too quickly. “They find us, maybe we give you to them, maybe they let us call it even,” the man spoke as he lowered his hands with a sense of disappointment, kind of wishing that he had savoured the water a little. “You see, we’re reasonable people. Everybody’s got their code. You feel you gotta kneel, that’s fair enough. We don’t.”
The man returned the now empty bottle back to the women before moving to grab at the collar of Daryl’s shirt, forcing him forward behind the others once again. Taking advantage of the moment of alertness the water provided, he worked at keeping his eyes on the world around him, at keeping Sophie from mind. As they walked, he took in the burnt out bodies that lined the tracks, in the different animal tracks that decorated the ash, in the silence of the forest around them. We’re not alone here, he told himself, knowing all too well what the silence meant, relieved that the lack of leaves on the blackened branches meant that they would be given plenty of warning if they were to be stumbled upon.
“I can’t believe we’re back,” the brown haired woman spoke, glancing over her shoulder, past him to consider the man at the rear of the convoy. “It’s not home anymore, but it’s better than where we were.”
“This is a pit stop,” his voice echoed back from right behind Daryl’s left ear. “We pick up Patty, nothing more than that.”
Silence settled over them for a moment, a faint moan catching Daryl’s attention as the smaller of the two women spoke curiously. “How’d you do it?”
“You saw where we left the truck?”
Mm-hmmm.”
“We opened the valve and drove all the way from Farmview Road. Ran from the tree line till we got to the pavement. Lit up a matchbook from the Sweetwater and dropped it onto the trail.” Glancing over the forest before them as the man spoke, he relaxed a little when he spied the source of the moans, their bodies charred and strewn across the forest floor, reaching out with weak hands as they passed. “Then we just ran for the car, got in and the dead ones were there. They were beating on the hood and then… And then boom! Knocked ‘em on their asses and I took an axe to each one.”
“Then we just watched it go up,” the woman continued in his stead. “No more moans, no more of that wailing. It was just the fire, just burning them all away.”
“You did all this?” Daryl dared as they moved through the bodies and onto the other side, his tone a little more impressed than he would have liked to admit.
“It was right at the start. Everything stopped. The TV, the radio. We were here, the forest was full of them, and the other ones in the town, they were drawn to it. They just walked right into the flames. We got most of them, thought we ended it for us,” the brown haired woman offered in response. “And she was in DC. We thought everyone was fighting them wherever they were.”
“Yeah, we thought that was what everyone was doing. Fighting it. That we’d all win together,” the man added, the tips of his fingers slipping from where they were pressed against the centre of Daryl’s back as he passed him by. “We were stupid.”
Stopping, Daryl considered the notion, the trio blind to his hesitation. “Ya’ll don’t think you’re being stupid right now?”
He studied the man as his words brushed over him, he grabbing at the pistol stashing in the waistband of his jeans to close the space between them once again, the barrel inches from his face. “Are you saying I should kill you?” Daryl didn’t speak and the man made no move to fulfil his threat. “I mean it. Are you gonna try and pull something on us? Are we just being thick here by not removing all doubt? Right now, by me not pulling this trigger, is that a mistake? I’m serious. I really want to know.” Daryl shifted his weight, the barrel following him. “You made a choice to kill for someone else, to have them own you for a roof over your head and three squares, so maybe I’m not considering all aspects here. You tell me, am I being stupid?”
“No,” he growled, stepping into the barrel, the metal brushing against his lips, it cool where Sophie’s own had been warm. You made a choice to kill for someone else, the man’s words mocked him, and though they were misplaced, they were entirely true. He had made that choice a long time ago, and though it hadn’t been for a roof over his head, it had been to keep his home. To keep her, to get back to her no matter what, and he was more than prepared to do it again if it was to come down to that. “Look, I got somewhere to be. We can make a deal. I can help you out.”
“You’re one of them. You’re hurt and you’re alone and you’d say anything. We should’ve never trusted you people to begin with,” he all but growled before motioning him passed him. “Go on. Keep moving.”
Moving forward, Daryl decided that the man was being stupid, even if it did work in his favour. If this were Rick, if he were Abe, or Michonne or Sophie, I’d be dead already. If the tables were turned, he considered meekly, all too aware of the position he had taken up beside Aaron to expand the community, he would be dead. Daring a glance over his shoulder, Daryl let himself consider Sophie once again, let himself consider how he had kissed her, how he would very much like to do that again one day. Is it safe enough here? She had asked that first night, her words morphed from the prison, asking if they could stop pretending.
I don’t know, he had told her truthfully, it now only certain that it wasn’t, not after the talk of another group. Alexandria was big, though its residents were untrained, they were naïve, and they were weak. If it was ever going to be safe enough, they needed people who were strong, who would fight, they needed numbers. Chewing at his lip, Daryl wondered if it were possible to walk back through those gates with clean hands – as clean as they were ever going to be – and perhaps with more numbers. These three clearly hated this mysterious group, maybe they would be willing to stand up to them if they had the numbers.
No, he decided, his gut churning at the thought of letting strangers into his home, of letting them live amongst Sophie. You’ve done it before, a less frightened part of him argued, remembering back to the occupants of Woodbury they had welcomed into the prison, to the survivors they had taken in afterwards. A warmth spread across the back of his neck, as if he had been sunburnt, it claiming his ears as he thought of the way he dealt with Rick decision to bring others into the prison, of the way he had taken it out on Sophie, on everyone else around him. He had spent nights sleeping up against the guard tower, shivering until she had come looking for him, blanket in hand. She had been nothing but understanding, and his reluctance to see that had driven her to her breaking point.

A mangled snort slipped through his lips as a crunched up piece of once white paper sailed through the air, landing inches away from the trash can it was no doubt intended for. His eyes flickered around the seemingly abandoned mall for any sign that he had been heard before catching the way Sophie peered over her shoulder with a sense of embarrassment. “That was crap.”
“Shut up,” she groaned, knowing that she had been caught out, her lips working to conceal the smile that threatened upon her own face. “Like you could do any better.”
From his position further from the bin, Daryl accepted the challenge, grabbing at an old magazine and scrunching it together. He barely looked at the trashcan before tossing the rubbish towards it, the paper bouncing off the rim to join the rest of the litter within. Though her back was to him, Daryl could practically see her roll her eyes as she muttered under her breath. “You were saying?”
“Show off.”
A slight smile crept across his face as she continued down the open space, clutching her staff in one hand, her muttered words hanging in the silence that surrounded them as they worked at scavenging in practised unison. He followed her through the propped open back door of a travel agency, crossbow raised as they worked at clearing the room. Only one walker dwelled there, missing half a nose, its skull giving way to wood as Sophie swung her staff to connect with the side of its head, the break in the silence only lasting a second or two. Though the building sounded empty, Daryl knew that it wasn’t, that Sasha and Glenn were working the top floor while Maggie and Rick moved towards them from the other end.
The two we no longer allowed to be paired together, not after what he and Sophie had witnessed the last time. Blood pooled in his cheeks as he worked at shifting through the draws of the front desk, remembering how he had moved through the cluttered room towards the sound of a chair toppling over, expecting to find that they had missed a walker on their initial sweep. Instead, he had found Glenn and Maggie pulling away from each other, one working at zipping his pants hastily and the other flattening her ruffled hair. Sophie had slipped in behind him moments later, curious as to what he had found, his own eyes trying to busy themselves elsewhere as an awkward silence moved over the trio. She had broken it with an amused laugh, as if it were completely normal, and deep down, he supposed that it was.
“Jackpot,” Sophie hissed through the darkness, the crunching sound of foil bags following her excitement. Daryl glanced over his shoulder to find her stuffing bags of potato chips into her backpack.”
“Bet their stale as shit.”
“I’ll leave you the cracker then,” she spoke after a moment, her eyes narrowing in on his dismissive attitude. It was then that he truly knew he had been found out. She had been picking up on his mumbled remarks and sharp responses all day, and he had just sealed his fate. Trying to hide it, he barely looked at her as she tossed the preserved cheese and biscuits at him, his eyes brushing over the moulded cheese, surprised that it actually was given the entirely artificial nature of the product. The room fell silent, neither of them moving as she studied and he waited. “You want to tell me what’s up?”
“No.”
“Too bad,” she shrugged, her eyes still on him as she settled down onto the desk beside him, propping a booted foot up onto the chair as he picked at the plastic wrapping on the desk between them.
He groaned both internally and externally, sliding the cheese and crackers backwards, watching the packet slide across the layer of dust that coated the wooden desk. As the figure beside him crossed her arms over her chest, jaw jutting out in a too familiar manner, he knew that there was no way out of it, that it would be easier to give her what she wanted. “I don’t trust them people Rick picked up. I don’t want them anywhere near you.”
“They’ll live in D block with the people from Woodbury. One of them is a doctor.”
“You’re a doctor.”
“No,” she spoke slowly, looking up at him from beneath her thick eyelashes, the space between them too big. “I’m just doing my best.”
“Your best is enough,” he grumbled back, stealing a quick glance at her smoothed expression, knowing well enough that he was in trouble. “We got Hershel, too. We don’t need him an’ his fancy degree. We don’t need any of them.”
“We do, and we will keep finding more,” she whispered, referring back to the conversation they had with the rest of the group yesterday about bringing more people in, now that they had the room and supplies to cater for them. “We took a vote. I’m sorry, but this is happening, no matter how much you fight it.”
“After everything that happened at Woodbury, you just want to open the gates and let anyone walk on in? How about we hand ‘em a gun and cook them up some squirrel,” he growled, eyes dropping to find a distraction in the dormant bolt his crossbow held ready. “After everything that has happened, I ain’t letting them anywhere near you.”
“We need people, Daryl,” she whispered, her eyes boring into the side of his face. “I know the lines between good and bad are blurred at the moment, but we can’t be the only ones left on this side. There has to be others, and we have to be able to believe that.”
“How are we supposed to tell?” He frowned, standing to hover by the desk, their bodies still too far apart, the distance awkward. “How are we supposed to tell what side they’re on?”
“Rick has the quest –”
“Fuck the questions.”
“You’re being stubborn.”
“Fuck the questions and fuck everyone else,” he growled, moving a little closer, Sophie not budging as he entered her space. “We don’t need them, we’re doing fine on our own.”
She sighed, pinching at the bridge of her nose before standing, her smaller frame only inches away from his. “I know you weren’t happy when the people from Woodbury joined us, and I know you aren’t happy now, but Rick is trying to build something for his children, and the rest of us… We’re just trying to build something. Anything.”
“I don’t want them anywhere near you.”
Sophie laughed ever so softly, brushing a strand of sweat coated hair away from his face, her eyes boring into his as she tucked it away. “Why?”
“’Cause I don’t trust ‘em.”
“Then trust that I can look after myself.”
Daryl chewed at his lips, eyes on the young woman before him as she raised an eyebrow, knowing that she had won this round. She was daring him to say something, to make any kind of objection. He trusted her, of course he did, but she was so oblivious to the fact that she held his entire life in her hands that it scared him shitless. When he didn’t answer, she leant a little closer, raising her eyebrow a little more. Having her so close, inches away from him, Daryl couldn’t help but think of how she had once been even closer, how her lips had once touched his own. Swallowing the heavy lump in his throat, he could only manage a tight nod, rooted in his spot as she slung the backpack over her shoulder and moved back towards the outside corridor.
They continued to sweep the strip of shops in silence, Daryl working at shoving his discomfort in the newcomers down as he fished through dusty draws for anything that had survived the scavengers before them. His gaze routinely moved over Sophie as she did the same, moving just as quietly, just as carefully as he did. Even now, with their differing opinions, they worked fluidly together. It wasn’t until the far end of the centre where Rick and Maggie would be searching began to loom through the darkness that Sophie strayed from their search to study a dimmed shop window with a sense of curiousity.
“Wait here,” she hissed, pulling back the barricade before Daryl had a chance to stop her, before he had even had a chance to take notice of the shop itself. Frowning, he moved after her anyway, crossbow raised as he found himself surrounded by drapes of white fabric. Finding her was easy, her dirty appearance a stain against the white that consumed the room around them, making even her hair full in comparison.
“What are you doing?”
“Maggie’s not getting married in a pair of blood-stained jeans,” she spoke quietly, not looking up at him as she shifted through the long, flowing dresses on the rack at the furthest end of the store. Wedding dresses littered the room, puffy and overwhelming enough to make Daryl cringe as he lowered his aim.
“I don’t get it,” he added, staying true to the bitter nature of the day. “I don’t get why they’re havin’ a wedding when it ain’t gonna mean anything, anyway.”
She didn’t say anything at first, continuing her search as a familiar silence stretched out before them, Daryl only feeling a little guilty for his sour attitude. “Hope, I suppose.”
“I ain’t wearing a suit.”
“No one is making you do anything, Daryl,” she sighed, her tone thick with impatience as her eyes met his ever so briefly.
“Yes, you are!” He snapped, anger consuming him. The blame wasn’t hers, he knew that, he knew that it came to rest entirely on his own shoulders. They were weary, though, slouched under the weight of her disappointment, exhaustion claiming any rationality. “You are all makin’ me live with people I don’t even know!”
“Whatever,” she growled, grabbing at the dress her hands hovered over to stuff it into a nearby plastic bag, the cleanest one she could find. “I get that this is hard, I get that we’ve had some long days lately, but I’m on your side. I’m always on your side, and I know that you are going to be okay with this in the long run.”
“You don’t know that,” he hissed, grabbing at her arm as she moved to pass him, his fingers curling around the circumference of her hardened bicep.
She froze under his touch, eyes hard and mouth set into a tight line. She was angry with him, and Daryl knew that she had every right to be, he was angry with himself, too. That was the problem. “Don’t touch me.”
“Don’t touch you?” He half laughed, releasing his hold anyway. “Ain’t the vibe I was getting the other week when you kissed me.”
“Holy shit,” Sophie groaned, rubbing at her face as she stepped away from him for a moment, collecting her thoughts from wherever they had landed before moving dangerously close. “You’re scared, you’re being irrational and it needs to stop. Don’t you dare throw that in my face, don’t you dare think that you’re the only one having a hard time with this! You think this has been easy on all of us? You think you’re the only one adjusting. Think again.”
She didn’t have anything more to say, her eyes boring up into his as she took a slow step backwards, making a beeline for the outside corridor once again. Clenching his fists together, he took in a deep breath, desperately trying to calm himself. It did nothing, his booted foot kicking out to connect with a nearby shelf, its contents spilling onto the floor in result of his tantrum. He made no move to follow her, working at shoving his anger down, forcing himself to consider that it was entirely fear driven. His back felt as if it were up against a wall, stuck between a rock and a hard place with nowhere to hide.
It took him longer than he cared to admit to calm down enough to entirely acknowledge his irrational behaviour, to entirely hate himself for what he had said to her. They didn’t fight often, not anymore, not so much since they had been forced to flee the farm, and every time they did, Daryl always seemed to be able to chalk it up to his own fear of losing her getting the better of him. Taking in a deep breath, he worked at settling himself a little, his chest shuddering as anger faded away for pure embarrassment. It didn’t matter how many times she could claim to understand why he did what he did, he couldn’t help by feel as if he were thirteen again, being chastised for the feelings he couldn’t hide well enough.

Of course the noise he had made kicking over the shelf had attracted every and any walkers that lingered within the mall, and of course, they had been forced to flee soon after, Sophie losing the wedding dress in the process, and of course, it had been a passing group that had saved them. Sophie had been right once again, they needed people then and as much as he hated to admit it, they needed people now. Even if those people had seen them same things as he had, because it was those people who knew how to survive this new world, who knew what it took. Glancing over his shoulder at the blonde man once again, he wondered how Aaron would approach the subject of recruitment in the position he was in, he wondered if the other man had ever found himself in a position such as this.
Thinking back over the fight, he found himself considering the questions with a sense of deep-rooted sadness. He had asked them over and over again, assessing each answer with all the care in the world, knowing that his decision meant the difference between life and death for not only the people before him, but the people back at the prison. This would be no different. His captures spoke of questionable people, enough so that Daryl couldn’t help but wonder how influenced by them they were, despite the fact that they had left it behind for life on the road.
Hands gripped at Daryl’s shoulders roughly, forcing him from his consideration, through the edge of the forest and into the real world. The real world, he reminded himself, this is the real world. They hadn’t killed him yet, but Daryl couldn’t trust these people not too, he couldn’t trust them not to kill the others, to kill Sophie, if he took them home. He couldn’t, he wouldn't.
“Patty...” The man spoke as Daryl hung back, the three of his captures moving passed him to study the infested compound before them with a sense of defeat, the brown haired woman dropping the rucksack.
“She could be…”
“No, she’s gone.”
“Then we make another plan.”
“Yeah, we get out of here, that’s the plan,” the man assured the brown haired woman, Daryl’s eyes brushing over the way the second hung back a little, her body swaying ever so slightly.
“Then that’s the plan.”
“You guys didn’t have to do this for me.”
“It was the right thing for all of us.”
“This was the right thing?” The smaller one argued, her tone vague and posture weak. “Even if just you guys went back now, if you just told them that it was me…”
“No, we’ll find a way.”
“Just think about it.”
“No,” the man stood his ground. “Look, maybe we don’t get as far, but we’ll get – hey! Hey, hey, hey! Tina, hey!”
Before him, the smaller woman slumped, falling to the ground with an audible thump. Daryl didn’t hang around to find out what happened after, instead, he grabbed for the duffle that hid his crossbow and ran in the direction they had come. His feet pounded against the ground, his heart against his chest as bullets whistled through the air around him, drowning out the desperate calls for him to stop. His body was tired, his bound hands making it difficult to carry the awkwardly large bag as he navigated the burnt forest with a sense of expertise. Even if one of them were following, they wouldn’t catch him, Daryl was sure of that.
His only indication that he had gone far enough was the way his legs threatened to give way beneath him as Daryl pushed himself over a fallen log, landing in the dirt with a heavy thump. Releasing his hold on the duffle, he took to the binds around his wrists first, taking the rope between his teeth as he pulled desperately at the knots. Backing himself up against the log, he worked at using a severed branch to yank the bounds free as they loosened, his breath coming out in shallow waves as the rope slipped over his fingers, they instantly moving for where his radio was stashed within the bag.
“Sasha? Abraham? You there?”
At first only static hissed back at him over the sound of his own ragged breathing, Daryl forced to abandon the radio as a different kind of hiss took its place. Straightening from his slumped position, he scanned the blackened forest for the source, finding it moving through the still standing trees behind him as a twig snapped under careless weight. Groaning, he worked at sitting up to shuffle in alongside of the duffle bag as the groans grew hungrier. As the walker grew closer, panic began to well in his chest, his hands becoming clumsier as they worked too quickly to free his crossbow from the clingy material, its edges caught on the strained zip.
Pulling it free, Daryl worked at shifting his weight, barely taking the time to aim as he squeezed the trigger, watching with a sense of relief as it buried itself beneath the brittle bone of the walker’s forehead. Taking in a deep breath, letting his head fall to rest on the dirt beneath him, Daryl considered the exposed bones, finding that both moss and greenery had begun to grow from the nutrients that the flesh offered. The Cherokee rose weaved in and out of its ribcage in such a manner that he found himself making a mental note to tell Sophie about, already knowing that she would raise a truly interested eyebrow in the same way that she always did whenever they exchanged unbelievable walker stories.
Content that he was once again alone, Daryl let his breath steady a little more before climbing up onto his knees, his fingers uncurling from his crossbow to dig through the duffle bag in search of any more water, of any food. Pulling back the material, his hands paused at the sight of the only object it covered, the box of insulin sending a hissed curse through his lips as he considered the weak nature of the smaller woman, the way she had fallen and in that moment, he heard the shouting that he had left behind, begging for him to come back.
A sense of guilt pooled in his joints as he zipped the bag with careful hands, his mind racing over why he should leave, and why he should go back. If that were Sophie, he considered, sure that he could hear Merle taunting him, buried deep down in the memories he kept of his brother. You’re weak, he would have spat, already moving back towards Alexandria, already shoving the trio from mind. He hesitated at the thought of heading back for Abraham and Sasha, of heading back to Sophie, to have her leap into his arms, to hold her there for a moment longer. You’re not your brother, she had told him time and time again, you’re not Merle.
With a weary sigh, Daryl pulled himself up to his feet, bending to scoop up his crossbow before lugging the duffle bag over his shoulder with the other hand. Grumbling to himself, he headed back in the direction that he had come in, finger resting on the trigger of his bow, ready, despite the relaxed position he held it in. The world around him was entirely still, entirely silent, as he scaled the forest floor, ash carpeting the ground beneath his boots. As he walked, his mind lingered to the radio he once again had stashed at his hips, daring to call for Sasha and Abraham once again.
With no reply, Daryl found himself considering the shoot out the day before, worrying if the pair had made it out, and if they had, what they had told Sophie. Perhaps she wasn’t waiting for him at all, perhaps they had dug him a plot and filled it in again. Perhaps she was mourning him, just as he had mourned here. Ain’t no way, something growled in response, she’s not giving up on you. If anything, she would be out there, looking for any proof that Abraham and Sasha had the right of it, Rick beside her, the others not far behind. After everything, he could count on that.
Or maybe they hadn’t made it back, either. Maybe they were holed up somewhere, waiting for him, maybe they were the ones out there in the burnt forest looking. Sasha wasn’t a tracker, but Daryl knew that she was smart, that she made calculated decisions, and deep down, he knew that she wouldn’t go home without him. After everything that had changed since the prison, that much had seemed to remain the same. They never left their own behind. The best way to find a tracker, he had told both her and Sophie once, the three of them leading a scavenge a few towns over when they stumbled upon Merle and Michonne’s boot prints, is to stay put. Let them find you.
Having crossed more ground that he had realised, Daryl was almost relieved when he spied the three familiar figures perched somewhat helplessly on the edge of a fallen log. All too aware of the pistol they still had, he kept low, kept quiet as he approached, crossbow raised. “Drop the gun. Drop it,” he warned, the blonde man sitting upright as he made himself seen, raising the weapon despite Daryl’s growled request. “Give it to me. I came all this way. What you got for the duffle, huh? You put me through too much shit just to give it back. Principle of the thing. What you got besides this gun?”
“Nothing,” the small one stammered, hidden behind the extended arm of the other woman, the two of them strategically positioned behind the man, as if it would really make a difference.
“What was that thing you were carving?” Daryl hissed, racking his brain for what he had seen throughout the night, not really caring anyway. Principle of the thing…
“My grandfather taught me how –”
“Don’t care, it’ll do,” Daryl snapped, gripping at the figurine as he pulled it from his pocket with careful hands. “Take it,” he tossed the duffle to the ground, aim unwavering as he backed away. “It’s all there. Good luck. You’re gonna need it.”
As if on queue, the smaller trees before them snapped under the rumbling of a heavy engine, the truck shuddering to a stop as Daryl ducked behind the thicker trees. Rather than make any attempt to hide, the brown haired woman stood behind the man, the two of them facing those that piled out from the vehicle with visible fear. From his position, Daryl watched the booted feet move behind the truck, stepping over the small, snapped trees to fold impatient arms over their chests, others standing guard. They looked clean, tidy almost, their clothes relatively clean and the wounds that some of them wore had been tended too.
“Let’s end this.”
“It’s ours,” the woman called back. “We earned what we took!”
“You’re gonna return what you took. You’re gonna pay for the gas it took to come out here and for all the time these men took out,” the voice boomed back almost casually. “It’s over. You know the rules.”
“Your rules are bat shit!”
“We’re not going back, Wade!” The blonde man piped up, his refusal shaky, his eyes not leaving the figures obscured behind the blackened trees. “We’re done kneeling!”
“Don’t change the subject, asshole!”
Moments later, the engine rumbled to life once again, the men that surrounded it having seeped off into the forest, Daryl catching sight of them through the trees before the others did. “Hey,” he hissed as they moved towards the men, kicking himself for getting further involved. “That way. Come on. Go, go. Get up.”
Ushering the others forward, he grabbed at the smaller woman as her legs gave way beneath her, holding her close to him as they followed behind. She struggled to keep the pace, her boots dragging along the ground, catching on hidden rocks and branches. Biting back the urge to snap at her, knowing that she wasn’t purposely trying to slow them down, Daryl tightened his grip a little more, gritting his teeth as he heaved her over another log to join the others behind what could only be described as a barricade of fallen logs.
“Hey,” he hissed, setting the woman down beside the other, offering the man back his pistol. “Take it.”
The blonde man seemed to hesitate for a moment before taking it from Daryl’s expectant grip, turning back to assess the men that had them surrounded. Inching around the tree trunk, Daryl studied the man that moved towards them, otherwise preoccupied with the radio in his hands, it crackling over the soft moan of a pinned walker. Studying the dead, he found it hidden to those on the other side by fallen trees, the splintered wood holding it against the rock face. Sparing the approaching man a quick glance, Daryl moved around the trunk a little more, reaching out to grab at a hanging branch. The rustling of dry leaves served their purpose, beckoning him over towards them, towards the hidden walker.
It was the man's screams that answered the questioning glances Daryl got, all heads snapping to watch as the other man worked at caving in the walker's skull. “Wade! Wade! I’m bit!” He cried, moving to kneel down before a smaller rock, laying his arm out over the uneven surface as Wade approached. “Take it off! Damn it. Do it! Just take it off.”
“I’ll get your watch after,” Wade offered casually, Daryl’s eyes glued onto the scene before him, keeping his readied stance as the other man lifted his machete and hacked just above the fresh wound. Screams echoed through the forest, dying off into a whimper as Wade scooped up the severed limb to retrieve the watch. Tough sons of bitches, Daryl huffed, undeniably impressed as Wade lifted the radio to speak into it. “All right, that’s it. Time to go home. Cam got a boo-boo.”
“Are you sure?”
“Oh, yeah. He only wanted to take this so far, and he only wants ass that’s willing, you know?” Daryl sunk back into the trees as Wade led the other man off, their bodies melting away into the forest, sharp sobs the only thing giving away their location. “Come on, Cam. Let’s walk it off.”
Silence moved over them as Daryl dared to straighten a little, glancing over at the others to find the brown haired woman administering the insulin, the smaller one having passed out once again, making him feel only a little guilty for his earlier impatience. “We thought you were with them,” the blonde man all but breathed moments later, happy that the others were out of earshot. “We knock you over the head, tie you up, threaten to kill you… Why the hell did you come back?”
Grunting, Daryl shrugged, feigning indifference as he pictured a head of white hair longingly. “Dunno. Maybe I’m stupid, too.”
“Maybe,” he considered, shooting the woman a sideward glance before standing to offer Daryl his hand for him to take. “I’m Dwight. This is Honey and Tina.”
“Daryl.”
Refusing to take his grasp or to meet the other man's gaze, he shifted aside to let Dwight lead the way seemingly no where in particular, the group moving slowly as Tina recovered. “So you knew ‘em, but still thought I was one of them?”
“Where we were, we were there since the beginning, but we still didn’t know everyone,” Dwight offered as they navigated the forest away from where the other group had been headed. “Back when we first threw in with them, it was as good as place as any, but then things got harder, people got harder. Human nature kicked in and it became a truly unique kind of shit show.”
“People will trade anything for safety, for knowing that they’re safe.” Not anything, not everyone, Daryl argued internally as Honey spoke up, knowing that he would trade a roof over his head for his family any day.
“Everything,” Dwight continued, realising Tina to her own two feet. “So they got nothing left expect just... Just existing.”
“Ain’t nobodies safe anymore,” he considered out loud, thinking back to Alexandria, to what had happened the day before. “Can’t promise people that anyhow.”
“You could promise the people who want to hear it,” the other man rebutted, Daryl unable to ignore Alexandria as an example once again, knowing all too well that safety was exactly what Deanna promised the residents, and it was exactly what they expected. As the group slowed their pace at the thought, the smaller girl seemed to suddenly find her strength, rushing away from the group without a single word. “Hey, Tina, wait! Tina! Hold up!”
Watching as the other two rushed to follow, Daryl hung back for a moment, surveying the area before following suit, crossbow raised despite any sign that they were in any immediate danger. “Carla and Delly,” Tina all but whispered as he moved in on the group. “That’s them.”
“Me and Tina used to babysit them when they were kids,” Honey worked at filling in Dwight as he looked to her curiously. “Everyone said that they went up north when it all started… We didn’t know.”
“I did this.”
Honey seemed to study the way the other woman moved through the burnt out greenhouse for a moment, Daryl’s eyes staying on the wooden structure as she turned to consider Dwight. “We did this.”
Shifting uneasily, Daryl watched as the smaller girl moved over the covered bodies to pick at some wildflowers that grew at the heel of a covered foot, the plastic having hardened into a casing. It was intact, just as the bodies seemed beneath it and before he could step forward to advise that Dwight warn her away from the clear coffins, a scream pierced the silence around them. Though Honey and Dwight moved for their companion without thought, Daryl found himself hesitating ever so briefly, his eyes brushing over the forest around them for any sign that they had been heard.
Deciding that they wouldn’t be for long, not with the wails that echoed through the forest, he moved forward, grabbing at the knife secured by his hips to bury the blade within each of the now exposed skulls a little too late. Stepping back, his gaze raked over the dark crimson that painted the side of Tina’s head, the other woman’s fingers lacing through her hair as she knelt down beside her. Apologetic sobs replaced the pained cries as they made way for death, the blood having come from the bite wound that adorned the back of her throat, drowning the small woman in her own blood.
Leaving the pair to mourn, Daryl found himself stepping out from the greenhouse in search of a shovel, desperate not to linger as he swapped his weapon for the garden tool. Knowing that they would need longer than the time it would take his too experienced hands to dig one grave, he planned for three, softening the ash covered dirt with aching joints as Dwight pleaded softly with Honey. It wasn’t until he had finished the first that one of them had the sense to stop her from turning, the sound of blade moving through bone and brain enough to instantly put Daryl’s tense muscles at ease. Afterwards, Dwight joined him, taking to the third and final grave as he broke dirt on the second, neither of them speaking for the longest time.
Daryl continued to wrestle with his earlier dilemma of telling them about Alexandria as they worked, in the end, deciding that more people meant bigger numbers, and bigger numbers meant that Sophie would be safe. He would make Alexandria safe enough, that was why he had decided to take up Aaron’s offer, after all. “Hey,” he grunted as he shovelled dirt aside, glancing over his shoulder at where Honey watched on, Tina’s head in her lap. “How many walkers have you killed? Just answer the question.”
“A lot,” Dwight offered after a long moment of confusion, standing from his work to consider Daryl with a sense of impatience. “A couple of dozen at the least.”
“How many people you killed?”
“None?”
“Why?” Daryl spat as the man turned back to digging, the weight of the question coming to rest on the silence that hung over them. All men thought their reasons were good reasons, it wasn’t up to him to judge why he did or didn’t take another life, but it was for him to judge the way he reacted to the question.
“Why haven’t I killed anybody?” Dwight didn’t pause, his shovel scraping against the bottom of the shallow grave. “Because if I did, there’d be no going back. There’d be no going back to how things were.”
Daryl met his gaze for a brief moment before letting his eyes drop to the empty hole between them. “I’m from a place where people are still like they were… More or less, for better or for worse.”
Dwight glanced over his shoulder to where Honey had taken to staring at the dirt beneath her boots, as if she couldn’t hear the conversation before her, and though he didn’t say anything, Daryl knew the when the other man turned to continue his digging, he had made his first recruitment. Shifting to shovel at the depths of the shallow grave a little more, he considered whether Deanna would welcome them as warmly as she had once welcomed them, given the events that had followed their arrival, he wondered whether Aaron would approve. He mulled over it as they moved the last of the dirt from the knee-deep hole, as they lowered the bodies down and covered them as Honey sobbed her parting words.
Daring a glance at the pair as they lingered in a solemn silence, he knew that it wasn’t going to be Deanna that would need convincing, and that by bringing them in, he would be going against Rick’s orders. The other man had made his stance on recruiting clear, his argument strong enough to convince Aaron to put a temporary halt on the future trips he had planned. Everyone is fighting different battles, Jake had stepped up when Rick voiced his belief in the others out there having to take care of themselves, that doesn’t make them any less than your own. Daryl understood the other man's desire to care for their own first, hell, he echoed the notion, but for now, they had a roof over their head, they had food on their tables and bullets for their weapons. Right now, they had choices, choices that they were accountable for.
Tearing his gaze away from those before him, he glanced over the forest anxiously, his thoughts touching on Sasha and Abraham, on the way the sun had begun to lower from its peak and finally, on Sophie. Touching at his lips with dirty hands, he stepped back from the graves, making a beeline for where his crossbow was propped up against the frame of the greenhouse. Leaning up against the rickety frame, he waited for Dwight to meet his gaze before offering direction back to his bike with no more than a mumble.
They manoeuvred the forest back towards where he had hidden his bike, to where he had run into them in silence, it occasionally broken by an occasional question about Alexandria. How many people? Are there walls? What is the living situation? How do people earn their keep? The prying made Daryl uncomfortable, remembering the lack of information Aaron had given them before their arrival, not wanting to go against his unspoken rules of recruitment. If he was doing this, if he was going to keep doing this, he would do it right.
The walk was further than Daryl would have liked, his legs aching, complaining with each step. His body seemed to sigh in relief as he caught sight of the bike stashed beneath the same burnt out leaves he had left covering it the day before. “I can walk it from here,” he offered as he pulled the branch away. “Till we meet up with my friends,” Daryl added before shoulder his crossbow to lift the bike from his horizontal position with a tired grunt. “They got a car. You can ride with them.”
“How many friends you say there were?”
“I didn’t,” he frowned at the question as he pushed the bike forward, not bothering to see if it would start. “There are two of them.”
“Where are they?”
“We’re gonna find them.”
“How do you know they even got away?” Dwight pressed, his voice growing more distance as Daryl continued down the worn track without looking back to see if the others were following. “That they didn’t get taken?”
“I don’t,” he huffed, gritting his teeth as he forced the bike over an exposed tree root, pausing as the unmistakable sound of a bullet sliding into its chamber clicked tauntingly behind him. “Shit.”
“I’m sorry,” the other man attempted as Daryl dropped the bike, moving for his slung crossbow to find the barrel of the pistol already trailing his attempt in an annoying familiar manner. “Give her the crossbow.”
“You gonna go back?” Daryl growled, his fingers curling around the shoulder strap of his bow as he worked at buying himself a little more time to try and dig himself out of the hole he had dug himself. “You gonna be safe?”
“Shut up.”
Is it safe enough? Sophie’s voice filled the silence that followed, the answer hanging in the space between him and his bike. “Ain’t nowhere safe no more.”
“Give her the crossbow,” Dwight motioned for him to extend the weapon with the barrel of the gun, his gaze determined. Realising that he was out of options, out of time to buy, Daryl did as he was told.
“You gonna kneel?” He was neither surprised nor moved by the bullet that whistled passed his head, colliding with the tree behind him, bark scattering across the ash-covered forest floor in splinters as Dwight kick-started his bike.
“Patch yourself up,” Honey spoke softer than she had the right too as she flung bandages across the space between them, Daryl making no attempt to catch them, his eyes never leaving Dwight. “We’re sorry.”
“You’re gonna be.”



Notes

Many thanks to the usual suspects. Thanya, amberryvonnee, Witchy, Ceeekes, Kass, cmdfashionista, rachelloyd and Zophie_, you guys are truly angels. Thanks for all your support! This chapter doesn't hold all that much originality, but it was too important to change much, given that it is the introduction of Dwight. Also, editing was rushed due to life in general, so please forgive any little mistakes.

I've been reading the comments this week and I really do see and appreciate your patience! To reward it, I will tell you that a - hopefully tasteful - 'smut' scene has been written and its chapter planned. I will also take this moment to warn those reading that when it does eventually come, I will not have a warning at the start of the chapter, I want you all to be surprised! If you really are comfortable reading such material or whatever, let me know so I can warn you before it is posted or something. I don't know? It's all only human, y'all. But, you've officially been warned.

See you in the comments x

Comments

Who's here on 2020 for a re-read? :D

Tee- Tee-
4/17/20

@QueenUchi

New readers make my heart sing, especially when they start this journey ten months after I ended it (abit abruptly but we won’t get into that because it’ll make me sad again).

Thank you you so much for leaving a comment. Nothing is more motivating for the unmotivated than a little bit of love. Whenever I get a comment from someone new all I find myself wanting to sit down and grill them with a million different questions.

If youre chasing updates about any eventual stories I write, please follow me on instagram @ sophyl_

Thanks a million again!! xx

aryaaa aryaaa
11/28/18

thank you @sanders151 for recomending me this fanfic

Your fanfic has been in the center of my life for the whole month November. Let me just tell you that im in love with everything about this story. Im even at loss of words about how amazing this journey has been.

There have been moments when i actually had to get up and calm down from all the feelings may they be joy sadness or just extreme suffering. Ive been cheering, i've been crying to the point of ugly sobbing, ive been screaming while reading this all.

I dont even know how to tell you how i feel about this fanfic there arent any words for it so ima just AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH about it cause thats the closets that i can think off "insert all the feelings i cant express here"

I am just so thank full for all your time and effort and everything youve put into this story. Cause WOW youre an amazing writer and when you do make your original story please do know that I WOULD LOVE TO READ THAT TOO.

This journey has ended but it will forever be in my heart.

QueenUchi QueenUchi
11/27/18

@Sanders151

I was so surprised to see a new notification on this story after all these months. Thank you so much for taking the time
to comment, I hope you’ve enjoyed what you’ve read since. Please feel free to leave me updated on your thoughts xx

aryaaa aryaaa
11/25/18

Hello,

It's been a looong time since i've read this story. Life got busy and i totally forgot to finish it.

SO i decided to reread everything and lemme tell you...I STILL LOVE IT AS MUCH AS THE FIRST TIME.
Im currently at chapter 62 (right after fort hill) and i can't wait for what is to come.


Sanders151 Sanders151
11/15/18