"We have to come to terms with what we are. We fight the dead, we fear the living, because in the end, we're all just a dead man walking."
~
REPUBLISHING!!
「t.walkingdead Daryl Dixon ff
between S3+
WARNING:
Gore, Death...
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𝚡𝚒𝚟 ; 𝙳𝙴𝙰𝙻 𝙾𝙵 𝙰 𝙻𝙸𝙵𝙴𝚃𝙸𝙼𝙴 ༒
The air was awkward around all of them. Maybe more specific Daryl and Anka. Ever since the little incident on the prison roof, he and her haven't spoken a word to each other. Anka could care less, maybes it's for the better that they don't speak. She walk towards Michonne. She pointed to the ton of guns she failed to notice before all this. "Where'd you all get these?"
Michonne walked around, picking some of them up and twisting them, looking at the pile full of guns. Anka quickly grabbed one as well, looking magazine at all the bullets inside. It was full and there were also bullet boxes on the table. Filled with all kind of bullets. "When you were stuck on the roof and we went for that run. Rick ran into some he knew, some crazy guy. He had all these guns to himself. We took some."
Anka nodded her head, picking up a sniper, looking through the scope of the gun. She nod her head in approval, placing the gun back down on the table. She look around, noticing how empty the place was. Anka looked at Michonne, her head tilting to side. "Where is everyone?"
"Andrea suggested Rick go talk to the governor. Daryl and Hershel went with them, the rest of them are out around the building hiding weapons." Michonne noted, tossing her a few of the guns. She look down at the guns looking back up at Michonne. Michonne pointed to the corner of the room. She walked over placing the gun down. "Merle had a clash with Glenn while you were passed out. Rick should be back with the others soon."
Anka nodded her head. Walking around the place. As she walked around, she could hear the laughter and moaning from one of the rooms. She smirk already knowing what was happening from the smell of their lust. She shook her head, walking father up in the jail place. She glance at Merle who stood there, placing guns down and a few boxes of ammo. Anka let her fingers tap against the wall, knocking. That caused him to spin around. "You alright? I heard you and Glenn fought."
"Mass Murder Machine is asking me if I'm 'olright? Never once have I thought those words would leave your lips, Princess." Anka rolled her eyes, watching as he placed bullets in the chambers, placing it back on the table.
"Y'know, I forgive you." Anka breathed out. Merle froze, his body tense after listening to her words. He didn't say a word, his land just pressing into the gun on the table. "You Dixon's have a thing against apologizing, but I know you feel bad... and I understand from a certain point of view, why you did it."
"You just wanted to live." Merle just nodded his head, swiping his finger from his nose, placing his mental arm on the table, looking around the room. "... You're not a bad person, Merle. You may have bad judgment. Also I never thought you did, but you actually care about something other than yourself."
She smile, crossing her arms. Merle just continued to nod his head. "Shut the hell up, Princess. I ain't a Judas and I ain't no saint."
For once, Merle spoke without the humorous, condescending voice. His voice was flat, no mockery. He was genuinely grateful. Being here, surrounded by people who hate him. He felt shameful and degraded. Merle stayed for Daryl, and Daryl only. Despite being judged by ever single damn person here, he still stayed. Being told he's a good person, by one of the people he probably did the worse by... it made him emotional.
