Haven (A Walking Dead fanfiction)

Chapter 19

Daryl returns Ricks gun and comes back to my side. He envelopes me in his arms and by the way he holds me I know it's just as much for him as it is for me. The groups starts to disperse, everyone coping in their own ways. Shane is silent, his face dark. Lori clings to Carl as she leads him always from the carnage. Glenn hurries to Maggie. Andrea lays her head on Dales still chest as she cries, while Rick just stares. His eyes are glossy and tears threaten to spill. Hershel places a hand on his shoulder, snapping him out of it. Rick and T begin discussing next steps, but I can't handle any more. I look up at Daryl desperately.

"Take me home." I manage to get out past the lump in my throat.

"Yeah, Come on," he whispers sweetly as he walks me towards camp with his arm around my waist. He starts leading me in the direction of the house, but I stop him. Beth is still in the bedroom downstairs recovering, Maggie will be with Glenn, and the last thing I want is to be up in that room alone. He looks at me curiously.

"Can I stay with you?" I ask him quietly. "Please?" My voice cracks as I battle to keep the tears at bay.

" 'Course." He replies softly as we change directions and head toward his secluded camp site. The night has settled heavily around us, the weight of what we just witnessed pressing down on us both. I collapse onto a log the second we reach his fire pit. My shoulders slumped. I rest my elbows on my knees and bury my face in my hands. Daryl busies himself with making a fire in the pit. When I look up bed watching me worriedly from where he's squatted from beside the fire. I can see on his face that he's unsure if he should say something or give me the space I need to process. He snaps a twig and tosses it into the growing flame.

"Will it ever get easier?" I ask him quietly. He stands, tossing the rest of the twig into the fire, and joins me by my side. He wraps his arm around me, kissing the side of my head.

"No." He replies gently. "The day it becomes easy is the day we're lost." I look to him. "The hurt is what makes us human, we lose that..." he lets his words fall off, but I understand exactly what he's trying to say. I nod in agreement, but I stay quiet.

"What you did for Rick...that was.." I say after a moment. Daryl shrugs, but I can see the weight of it on his face.

"He shouldn't have to be the only one making the tough calls." He replies, seemingly lost in thought. I reach over, taking his hand in mine.

"You're a good man Daryl Dixon." I whisper, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. He forces half a smile on one side of his mouth.

"I'm gonna keep watch for awhile, scout the perimeter, make sure there's no more stragglers. It's late. You should try to get some sleep." He says as he stands, letting go of my hand. I want to protest, to stay with him, but I can see in his eyes that he needs to handle this on his own. I can't imagine how I would feel if I had to be the one to pull the trigger. Dale wanted it, I know he did. He was ready, he was suffering, he would have died anyways..just slower. But he still ended a life and that's something I hope I never have to carry. I don't think I could.

"Yeah, okay." I respond, nodding my head.

"I won't be long." He tells me reassuringly. I nod again and head into his tent as he grabs his crossbow. I curl up in his make shift bed. I'm beyond exhausted, but sleep doesn't come. Everytime I close my eyes all I can see is Dales wide eyes and desperate gasps for air. I don't know how long I lay there in the dark before Daryl sneaks in, trying his best to be quiet. He must think I'm asleep. I want to say something, let him know I'm awake, but my mind is so heavy I can't see to make myself speak. He slips into the bed beside me, draping his arm over my waist. He snuggles close, kissing my shoulder and then the back of my head, before finally settling in. I turn to face him, our noses mere inches apart. He looks deep into my eyes and I lose myself in his. I reach up, caressing his cheek. He closes his eyes, leaning into my touch. I kiss him sweetly, and when he kisses me back it's different from the usual passion and heat. It's soft, gentle, loving. There's no expectations of more, or ulterior motives behind our actions. The desire to be close, to feel the comfort of each other's presence is pure. When we pull away he holds me closer, my head resting against his chest. We don't say anything, because we don't need to. The silence is soothingly, and soon the steady rise and fall of his chest lulls me to sleep.