Penance (Book One): Daryl Dixon x Sage Wilson

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The rest of the night was spent smoking cigarettes and staring out of the window until the sun peeked over the swarms of clouds. Daryl had dozed off a few times and I couldn't find myself to get comfortable enough to fall back asleep. My mind was attacking itself because of the stress and the constant anxiety I felt.

     There was a hole inside of me, and I felt as if no one or anything could fill the hole but myself. The hole has been present for years, it's just grown bigger. It started out like a needle in a balloon, air slowly deflating. Then it started to be the circumference of a pencil. Then a fist.

     A part of me felt empty and unstable. I had a personality but there was no way for me to feel comfortable in my own skin. I constantly wanted to crawl out of it, burn it, put it through the washer, ring it out, then put it back on. But that just isn't reality. I felt tainted, dirty, and it didn't matter how many showers I took I couldn't wash off the trauma that impaled my psyche. Feeling the reminisces of Shane's touch, mixed with Mickey's strangles and burns.. it all just felt like a set up, a cop out.

     The sun starts to peek over the building, creating a purple and orange dusk in the sky. The stars were still present, and the moon began to wax and wane as it hid behind the haze of the morning for blanket.

     I shove my elbow into Daryl, the unlit cigarette he had in his mouth falling out. He startled awake, grabbing his bag and crossbow.

     "The hell?" He looks to me, then around. "Don't do that shit unless you're asking to be knocked out." He scoffs.

     "Okay Grumpy Pants, but we need to go before it gets too bright out. I'd rather travel when we aren't as visible." I stand up, my knees cracking in retaliation. Daryl stands up with me, stretching out his arms and popping his sockets. "Where to now?" I ask as I open his bag and grab a can of peaches.

     "I say we head west, towards the woods and fields. It's bare ground, but maybe she hid somewhere in the brush." I nod as I open the can with my knife, slowly cutting the metal around the edges. I pop open the lid, bending it up and gesturing it to him. "Peach?" He looks down at me then to the can, putting his finger in and grabbing a juicy orange crescent.

     I plop one into my mouth, feeling the juice run down my throat smoothly. The dryness of my lips and throat seem to waver quick as I introduce them to the processed fruit.

     Daryl and I exit the gas station, heading west towards the open fields in the distance and seemed to offer nothing. The skies were still dusk but were becoming light- the air smelled of stagnant water and fog, but the humidity made it thicker and harder to breathe.

"You think we'll find Sophia here?" I toss the now empty can of peaches behind my shoulder, wiping my hands on my pants.

"Hope so. No little girl needs to be out in this world alone. Not before the apocalypse, and sure as hell not after." Daryl bites his lip, looking straight ahead at the clearing.

I twist my lips. "You're right. This world was never safe to live in."

______

Daryl and I seemed to be walking for what felt like hours. The day light decided to finally break through the clouds, and the sun made a weak attempt of an appearance over the white clouds.

"Shit," I kneel down, feeling the wet dirt and leaves. Daryl joins next to me, shaking his head.

"Footprints probably wiped by now." He stands up kicking a stump and leaning against a nearby tree.

"Rick and then may have found her- I'm sure they gave her some sort of supplies if she returned to the highway." I sigh as I look up at the wind blowing in the leaves. "We need to think like the group- where would they go?" I look to Daryl as he habitually bites his lip.

"Ion know.. maybe a nearby farm? Senoia is filled with racist rednecks up and down." Daryl swings the bag over his shoulder. "Come on, we don't got all day."

I salute my forehead, rolling my eyes. "Yessiree, Lieutenant Dixon."

"You're somethin' else Wilson," he says with a scoff.

"Oh I know I am; wish you pushed me off that roof now?" I try to joke.

"Only slightly," he turns around and tries to maintain a straight face but slightly fails.