Our Extinction Event {Daryl Dixon}

Cherokee Rose

They came across an old house that seemed to be abandoned, and when they reached the front door, Daryl already had his crossbow drawn. He looked at Parker, who had chosen her knife. The gun was only for emergencies. "Stay behind me," Daryl instructed.

"I know how to search a house, Daryl." Parker rolled her eyes. "My brother was a police officer. The Sheriff."

"Just stay behind me," Daryl repeated. He kicked the door open gently, crossbow raised. They moved in silence, Parker checking one room while Daryl checked another. They reached the end of the hallway, trying to ignore the way the floorboards creaked under their weight. It seemed like the house hadn't been used since the beginning of the outbreak, but a creaking sound that wasn't coming from them made both Daryl and Parker tighten their grip on their weapons. Parker tapped Daryl on the shoulder, pointing to herself and then to the stairs.

He mouthed the words 'Be careful' before she slowly walked up the stairs. It seemed to be empty, and the creaking came from the window shutters moving back and forth. She checked each room, and when she saw that one of the doors was closed, she frowned. She turned the handle and carefully pushed it open.

Meanwhile, downstairs, Daryl had found a closet that looked like it had been a home for someone, blankets scattered on the floor, and a half-empty can of beans. Whoever was here seemed to have gone a long time ago, but this could be a new clue to finding Sophia. Whoever slept there must have only been a few feet tall, the size of a twelve-year-old girl.

Meanwhile, upstairs, the walker came out of nowhere, and Parker screamed as she jumped back, managing to avoid the walker's claws. Knife in hand. She held it tightly, her knuckles turning white, and as the walker approached her, she got as close as she dared and stabbed the knife into its head. The walker stayed still, which was good news, but the bad news was that it collapsed on top of her and Parker crashed to the ground. Another walker staggered into the room and tripped over the one currently crushing her. His hands desperately clawed at Parker's ankle, trying to reach her, and without thinking, she kicked it hard in the face.

Footsteps on the stairs made her look away for a split second and she saw Daryl raise his crossbow. With one more kick to the walker's face, an arrow embedded itself into the walker's skull. She grunted, finally managing to roll the walker's body off of her, crawling back and standing up as she looked at the mess she had made. "I told you to be careful," Daryl said, retrieving his arrow. "Is there more?"

"No, just those two," Parker replied. "I had it under control."

"Obviously," Darly stated sarcastically.

"I did," Parker protested. "Come on, there's nothing up here. Did you find anything?"

"A closet," Daryl answered. "It looked like someone was sleeping in there."

"Sophia?" Parker asked.

"Maybe," Daryl replied. "It's a new clue." As they were going down the stairs one of the boards snapped under Parker's foot, but before she could fall through the gap, Daryl, who was walking behind her, caught her and waited until she regained her balance before letting go. "You attract bad luck," Daryl said, shaking his head.

"But I killed a walker." Parker smiled excitedly.

"Yeah, and you were almost bit by another one," Daryl countered.

"Don't lie and say you didn't love feeling like the hero." Parker joked.

"I'd rather not be the hero in those situations," Daryl responded. "Just be careful and watch where you step." Parker smiled at Daryl poking his shoulder.

"You care about me."

"Well, yeah," Daryl replied, trying to defend his actions. "I'd prefer not having to tell your brother that a flight of old stairs killed you."

"You care about me," Parker said again, dragging out the words to provoke Daryl even more. His cheeks were red, whether from embarrassment or annoyance, Parker didn't know. Regardless, he simply handed back her knife, which she had dropped when the walker attacked her, and she put it in her holster.

"Come on." Daryl waved her forward. "We're wasting our time." They came out and started shouting for Sophia. As expected, no one responded, but Parker saw something in the green of one of the bushes and pointed it out to Daryl.

"Look!" Parker gasped excitedly. "Look how pretty it is!" She led Daryl towards the bush, pointing to the flower. Daryl's eyes softened.

"That's a Cherokee rose."

"What's that?" Parker asked. "I know the Cherokee were one of the tribes."

"The story is: when the American soldiers were moving Indians off their land, on the 'Trail Of Tears' the Cherokee mothers were grieving and crying so much because they were losing their little ones along the way, to exposure, disease, starvation. A lot of them just disappeared." Daryl explained to her. "So the elders they uh, said a prayer, asked for a sign to uplift the spirit mothers spirits, give them strength, hope. The next day, this rose started to grow right where the mothers' tears fell."

"That's beautiful," Parker said, her voice soft. She turned to look at Daryl. "Do you think they bloomed for Sophia? Or your brother?"

"I'm not fool enough to that there's any flowers blooming for my brother," Daryl shot down the thought. "But maybe, just maybe, it bloomed for Carol's little girl."

"We should take one for her," Parker thought out loud, plucking a flower from the bush and handing it to Daryl. "It's your story. You should be the one to tell her." Daryl took the flower from her.

"Thanks."

"You're not your brother, Daryl," Parker told him quietly. "You've proven it by looking for Sophia. I mean no disrespect, but I can't imagine Merle doing the same thing." Daryl shook his head.

"No, me neither."

"You're a good man, Daryl," Parker said quietly as she and Daryl walked back toward the trees.

"You only see the good in people," Daryl responded. Parker smiled sadly.

"Well, someone has to do it."

"It'll get you killed," Daryl added to what he was saying originally. "Giving your trust to the wrong person."

"Am I wrong? Trusting to you?" Parker asked.

"Depends." Daryl tilted his head to the side.

"On what?" Parker pressed further.

"Depends on how much you actually trust me." Daryl elaborated. Parker looked at him.

"Do you trust me?"

"Are you stupid? Yeah," Daryl nodded, before saying in all seriousness. "Yes, I trust you."

"Well, I'll have your back if you have mine," Parker said to him, the two sharing a quick look with each other.. Daryl looked at her, but she was looking at her feet after the small conversation. Her hair was tied in a ponytail, loose and tangled in an untamable mess from everything that had happened during the search. The bruises she received from Ed were slowly fading, only green and yellow tints dotting her nose and cheeks like freckles.

Her eyes were filled with so much hope, despite everything that had happened, and Daryl wondered if when she looked at him, she saw all the darkness he hid. She looked at him like he was her best friend, and the way she comforted him made him feel that, despite everything, he was capable of being loved. Maybe having Parker as a friend wouldn't be so bad.