Lost ; Daryl Dixon

Chapter 4

The dark had bothered you at first. It was always dark in the cell, always cold, and your body ached from holding yourself tense against the chill. You'd been forced to strip on arrival, left in only your underwear, though they'd neglected to take your jewellery, and you sat spinning the ring on the ring finger of your right hand, drawing comfort not from the cool twist of metal, but from the love and emotion that had gone in to its creation. Daryl had made it for you, locked in the train car at Terminus, and you'd worn it every day since. He hadn't even known if you were alive, but he'd had faith. You remembered the sweet ecstasy of your reunion and prayed for the day that you'd be reunited again. You would see him again, you had to believe that. You'd get through this, just like you had everything else.

You leant your head back against the wall, closing your eyes, and letting out a sigh as you lost yourself in your imagination. You knew Daryl so well, you could see him in front of you: the patchy scruff that bristled over his face, greying slightly on his chin; the intense blue of his eyes, so deep you felt like you could dive in to them and swim for miles; the slight quirk of his lips as he tried not to laugh when you were being cute or dorky. You could feel the soft curls of his hair, so much longer now than when you'd first met, threading through your fingers; the hard, defined muscles of his arms contrasting with the slightly softer paunch of his stomach; the callouses on his hands as he cupped your face before leaning down to kiss you. You could even hear his voice, his gruff Southern drawl, knew exactly what he'd say to you if he could speak to you right now.

'Don't give up on me, girl. Ya can do this. Yer strong. Don't go losin' hope now. Without hope, we ain't got nothin' left. Keep on fightin'. I'm comin' for ya.'

'I love you,' you whispered into the black, hoping that somehow he'd hear you, no matter where he was.

The scrape of a key in the lock on the door to your cell, dragged you from your thoughts, bringing you back to reality, as it creaked open just far enough for a nondescript arm to pass through a plate of food. When you didn't reach out and take it, it was dropped to the floor with a clatter which reverberated around the tiny space and made your ears ring. As the door slammed closed again, you kicked the food away. You hadn't eaten since you'd arrived at the Sanctuary, refusing to touch the hunks of plain, stale bread they brought you. You had no appetite anyway, had become so accustomed to the hunger pains that you barely registered them anymore. Your hunger was for home, for Daryl and your family, and nothing else would satiate that need.

You knew you were probably being stupid, that you'd need your strength if you were ever going to get out of there, but you honestly couldn't see a way that that could happen. It must be possible, you told yourself time and time again, Daryl did it. But the door was heavy and solid, always locked shut unless someone was sliding in food or water, and from the sounds you could sometimes hear from the corridor, you were pretty sure that a guard was stationed outside at all times. You'd thought your best hope might have been Eugene, but you'd seen no sign of him. For all you knew, he was locked up in the cell next to yours, going slowly insane. One thing was for sure, you weren't getting out of their on your own.

Time passed slowly, the days merging together in one endless stream of cold, sleepless despair. You were stuck in this cycle of nothingness, just you and the dark, and you felt like you were losing your mind. You hadn't spoken to anyone in so long that you weren't even sure that you had a voice anymore. A couple of times you'd caught yourself talking to the walls, cursing them, pounding on them, but you reigned in that kind of behaviour. That way lay craziness, and you needed to at least try to keep your wits about you.

When the familiar sound of the key in the door sounded, and it was opened fully, a tall, lithe figure appearing in the doorway, looming over you where you sat huddled in the corner, a knot formed in your stomach, a sense of dread stealing over you and freezing you in place. You wrapped your arms around your body trying to hide yourself away from his eyes, self-conscious in your scantily clad state.