The Journey Ahead | Daryl Dixon

The Journey Ahead (3)

Morning was soon upon us. Daryl and I still sat in the middle of the road, silent as can be. The fact that Beth was taken, the same day as we lost everyone else nonetheless. It broke me completely. Daryl attempted to make me talk, but I was just quiet and kept a straight face. My eyes were bloodshot due to all of the crying that took place.

Daryl slowly released his grip on me and pushed me off of his lap. My fingers still entwined in his shirt, he pried my hands off, leaving small dents in his vest from where my fingernails clung to him. He looked back to me and noticed I was shaking. I wasn't cold, no, I was damaged and needed to be fixed. He took the hint and scooped me up in his arms and carried me back to the remains of our crappy excuse for a camp. I fiddled with the top button on his collar like it was the most interesting thing in the world. Each step he took weighed heavy on my heart. I just wanted to lie there and forget the world. I was done trying, this pushed me over the edge and I was drifting farther and farther away from my sanity.

"Talk to me Y/N" Daryl uttered as he made his way through the woods. He kept his gaze in front of him, but waited for an answer. I stayed quiet and shut my eyes, taking in slow breaths and trying to reassure myself.

Once we finally made it back to the set up we had. He set me down against a tree not too far away from the campfire and walked over to collect the scattered supplies we had. I watched him for a while, until my eyes started to wander. I looked around at what was left until my sight fell on something shiny sticking out of the pocket of Beth's black backpack. I shifted my stance and crawled over to it. It was caught on the zipper so I yanked it as hard as I could. An unsettling snap was heard as I pulled the loose object from the bag. Pin my hands I held the pocket watch my father had given to Glenn. Apparently she must have gone back for it when the prison went down.

I turned the watch over several times and studied the small nicks and dents imbedded in the casing. It stopped working a while ago, but it was a nice moms to to have. A faint smirk played across my lips as I stuffed it into my pocket.

I rummaged through the rest of Beth's belongings and came across old photos, empty food wrappers and an empty water bottle. I had almost forgot to check the small pocket in the front, but I made sure to take a peek to cure my curiosity. I pulled out a small pocket journal and a half long pencil strapped to the side. My fingers cascaded over the rounded edges of the moleskin fabric and found their way to the edge of the book, so badly wanting to see what she had to say. I knew it was a violation of privacy, so I stuffed it back into the bag along with the other things I pulled out.

I hadn't realized I was crying until I felt a tear roll down my cheek. Before it fell, I wiped it away with the edge of my sleeve.

"Y/N," Daryl called me over to where he was and had the blank look in his eyes as he did last night. I trudged over to him and helped him gather up the rest of the supplies.

"We need to get movin', it ain't safe here." He said. I glimpsed over to him and gave him a look saying 'I'm done' but he didn't pick up on that.

"I figured we'd head in that direction, if those guys were headin that way there might be somethin there for us." He said, sounding a little hopeful.

He swung his crossbow over his back and took one of the bags. He offered his hand out to help me up, but I turned away and pushed myself off of the ground.

We set out on the road just after the break of dawn. A light fog covered the area and it was humid. Welcome to Georgia.

It was mostly quiet the entire time, that was, until Daryl decided that now was the perfect time to spike up a conversation.

"Hey, you good?" He asked me. Really? I glared at him basically telling him to stop talking, but he persisted.

"It'll get better, we just gotta keep our heads high." Once he said this, something sparked inside. Anger, hate and fear all rolled into one came out in a heated argument. I was pissed.

"Really Daryl? Is it? Is it Really gonna get better? Because the majority of my family is dead, my father decapitated, I don't even know where or what the hell happened to Maggie, the group is scattered, possibly dead, and Beth just got kidnapped! So tell me how Any of this is gonna get better!" I screamed at him. He was taken back by my outburst, and instead of consoling me in any way, he retaliated with the same amount of anger, if not more.

"Sorry for tryin to keep your sanity in check! If you haven't noticed, you aren't the only one who's lost people. Merle's gone, Sophia's gone, Andrea, lori, t-Dog, and the list goes on! So don't tell me about loss. You only care about your family, and your people, so don't act like you give a damn about anybody else." He then took a step back to survey my expression. The rising and falling of his chest showed how heavy he was breathing. He was livid.

"Screw you Daryl, you don't get it."

"No you don't get it! Everyone we know is dead!"

"You don't know that! We escaped the farm, we escaped Woodbury, I'm sure some must have escaped this. We did!"

He turned on his heel and made his way further up the road. My anger still bubbling over the edge. I ran up behind him and grabbed his shoulder, making him turn around and face me.

"Goddammit Daryl I'm trying to cope as best as I can here! It would be nice to relate to someone. So if I seem like not giving a shit its because everyone I love or knew from my past is either gone or dead! Don't you see that?!"

"We are not the same, so stop tryin to grasp the fact that just because we lost people makes us equal. You don't know me, I don't know you. Just leave it at that." He ripped his arm from my grasp and adjusted the crossbow on his back, he continued down the road and left me standing there in the dust. Here I thought, at least I was separated with Daryl, that him of all people would be able to understand what I was going through. But I was completely wrong. I realize now that I am completely alone in this world. Not even Daryl can handle me. Maybe it would be best if I disappeared...

After a while of walking in complete silence, we came up on a breach in the woods, leading down another road. We took it and ended up stumbling across a two story house. The land surrounding it was teeming with graves scattered all throughout. We walked in unison through the possible graveyard and eyed the area for any walkers.

My eyes scanned each and every grave before i stopped on one in particular. Engraved in the tombstone, it said "A great father". My heart sunk at the thought of this, my father never even got a funeral. He wasn't put to rest like these people. I stopped dead in my tracks And stood there, trying my hardest to hold back the tears and not cry. Apparently daryl walked further ahead, not noticing I stopped a while ago. He came walking back and noticed the grave I was looking at. Once he read the engraving, he looked back up to see he pained expression on my face. I looked to him with cloudy eyes and let out a small nervous laugh. I wiped the tears away with the rim of my sleeve and avoided my gaze with him as best as possible.

"Sorry." I said under my breath. I knew he hated when I cried, especially over my family. The argument before proved that to be true.

Before I could continue talking, he grabbed my hand and entwined his fingers with mine. "Don't." Was all he said. I looked back at him with confusion as he continued speaking.

"Don't be sorry. You just went through complete hell in a matter of a couple days. And I gave you crap for grieving. I'm sorry." He said, turning his gaze to the ground, not meeting mine.mi gave his hand a reassuring squeeze and smiled at him. I mouthed a 'thank you' and walked somewhat ahead, his hand still in mine. We left the grave and walked up to the house. Maybe things were finally starting to look up for us.