trigger warning: implied/referenced sexual assault
We found a set of train tracks on the other side of the tree line.
A sign declared the tracks ended a few hundred miles north and were marked with additional words, proclaiming the terminus in which they ended had been converted into a safe haven for survivors.
Rick, Michonne, and I stood by the sign, debating for a few moments whilst a shaken Carl sat on the warm metal track in contemplative silence.
Mish and I were sceptical of the promise of safety, though we both were of the mind that it was the likeliest place we’d catch up with the other survivors of the prison. This wasn’t the first sign Michonne had seen, apparently. They were dotted all over the area and she was confident some of the others had spotted them, too.
Rick was less confident in that, though I think he felt comforted by the idea of having something tangible to head towards. I’d be lying if I didn’t share that comfort, but there was something in the back of my mind that nagged at me, told me it was too easy; too good to be true.
I chalked that up to my exhaustion. My brain hurt, my body hurt, my Mark hurt. Too much magic, too much injury. The bullet wound on the right side of my head had faded to practically nothing, though the one on the left remained. It was just a large scab now, one that looked more like a gouge than an exit wound. I replaced the bloodied scrap of fabric that I'd been using to cover it with a cleaner one Michonne had pulled from her backpack.
It was, in usual Michonne fashion, a hideous yellow, green, and red splash-patterned silken scarf. But it was better than nothing.
We set off along the tracks, with both adults watching Carl and I with worried gazes. The kid was still somewhat pale and a lot quieter than usual, whilst I was just… Off. I knew they could see it. My balance was still slightly off kilter, my thoughts lagged, and my reflexes were almost embarrassingly slow, even for a human.
Slow as I was, I didn’t fail to notice the way Rick hung close to me, arm hovering an inch further from his side to be natural, as if he anticipated needing to catch me when I fell.
When night fell, we decided to find a place to rest at the edge of the tree line, a few hundred yards from the tracks themselves, in the cover of the woods. The other three had made themselves comfortable – well, as comfortable as one could on the forest floor – whilst I pretended to do follow their lead until they had fallen asleep. Once I was sure I was alone in my consciousness, I rose from my spot beneath a wide mammoth of a tree behind me into a sitting position.
My brain had healed enough to allow active thoughts, which unfortunately meant I was now at the stage in which I had to… deal with… things. As much as I tried to push them down, they reared their ugly heads with the slightest of promptings.
Like now, for instance, as I looked past the edges of the foliage above at the skyful of stars, and found myself thinking, “He’s looking for answers up there, too.”
The thought itself came unbidden, striking me with its simple intensity hard enough that I felt a sound actually break free of my throat. I had expected this of myself, of course. To think of Him. To wonder where he was, if he was okay. I’d just had a naïve hope that it wouldn’t hurt this much.
But it did.
God, did it fucking hurt.
Questions swirled through my mind, tearing piece after piece of me away as I tried to shove them back down, lest they ruin me completely.
YOU ARE READING
The Monsters Among Us ➳ Daryl Dixon
Fanfiction𝘋𝘢𝘳𝘺𝘭 𝘋𝘪𝘹𝘰𝘯/𝘖𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘍𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘦 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳 Not human. She was not human. They all knew it. Could almost feel it, but couldn't make sense of it. That was why they were afraid. Not because of what she used to be Before. But...
