In The End | Daryl Dixon

Chapter 13: At Peace

Carol's sobs broke me.

I stood there with my mouth agape, it was like someone had punched me in the stomach. Seeing Sophia laying there, lifeless, did something to me. It made me think that maybe there is no hope. That no matter how hard to you to protect your own, it sometimes won't be enough.

Lori walked up behind me, placing both of her hands on my shoulders, "You okay hun?"

I shrugged off Lori's hold on me, walking away I shoved the pistol Shane gave me into the back waistband of my jeans. I just wanted to be left alone.

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I sat in the RV, twirling my knife on the table when Daryl walked inside, sitting himself on top of the counter.

"If you're here to ask me if I'm okay, I'm fine." I said without taking my eyes off of the knife.

"I'm not." He said, "but if you want to lie, you gotta do better."

I stopped spinning my knife, and looked up at him with my eyebrows pinched together, "Excuse me?"

"You heard me. If you want to lie about bein' okay, you gotta lie better."

I huffed, turning my attention back to my knife, "You're a pain in my ass, Dixon."

"Nah, you're just easy to piss off."

Before I could say anything back, Lori stepped into the RV, "We're having a funeral for Sophia. If you two were wanting to come."

Daryl nodded to her, causing Lori to exit the RV. He jumped down from the counter, reaching his hand out to me, "Come on." He gestured his head towards the door of the RV.

I sighed, then took his hand and let him lead me to where they were having the service for Sophia, and Hershels wife and step-son.

I stood beside Daryl as nobody said anything. I just kept looking at the smaller grave. Carol wasn't here, Lori had said she didn't think it was her Sophia, that she died a long time ago.

I looked over to Daryl, I could tell he was also struggling internally with all of this. If he wasn't sleeping, or eating, he was out looking for Sophia. Without thinking it through, I reached over and took his much bigger, calloused hand in mine, intertwining our fingers. I was more than prepared for him to yank his hand away. He stiffened at the sudden physical contact, but soon relaxed as he looked down at me. To my surprise, he didn't let me go.

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As if shit couldn't get any worse, Beth collapsed in the farmhouse, Maggie and Lori thinking she's in a state of shock. Beth was laid up in a bed upstairs, staring up at the ceiling, not responding to anyone.

Hershel was gone. Rick found items that belong to his late wife in boxes, and also found an old flask sitting on top of the dresser. Apparently, there's a bar in town and Glenn knew how to get there, so when Rick came to me asking if I would come along and help get Hershel back, I agreed, even though he tried to put his nose in my business, he needed to be there for his daughter.

I stood by the truck reloading my gun, as I waited for Rick and Glenn.

Daryl came striding over, "Where you goin'?" He asked swinging his arms as he walked closer to the truck.

"Get Hershel. We think he's at the bar in town, and Beth is laid up upstairs in a state of shock. She needs him. So-" I hit the magazine up into the gun, "We're going to go get him." I placed the gun in the back waistband of my jeans.