Survivor - TWD (Daryl Dixon)

Chapter 23 - Strangers

Nelly

We walk along the tracks for half a day, sticking to the shadows of the trees and keeping off the road. Daryl has stayed by my side the entire time, his hand not straying from mine. We linger at the back of the group, and while everyone else seems to have embraced the new faces among us, I can't shake my wariness. 

"I'm sorry," I finally break the silence, my voice barely audible over the distant murmur of the group ahead.

Daryl glances at me, his brow furrowing in confusion. "Sorry for what?"

I search for the right words, my throat tight with the struggle to explain. "I thought—" I start, but the words falter as I try to articulate the reason for my departure. "I thought it was the only way."

"Don't," he interrupts softly. "I get it." His lips quirk up in a half-smile, the kind that suggests he's still seeking some form of reassurance. "You're here now," he adds.

I nod, feeling the weight of his words. "I'm here now," I repeat, trying to offer both of us some comfort.

Daryl's gaze shifts forward, and I notice Carol stepping up beside me. Daryl exchanges a brief, meaningful look with her—an unspoken communication that I can't quite decipher. Carol raises an eyebrow and tilts her head slightly, prompting Daryl to quicken his pace and leave Carol and me to talk.

As we continue walking in silence, Carol breaks it with a gentle question. "What happened to your face?"

I know she's already seen the evidence of what happened, and her concern is genuine. I sigh heavily, the weight of the past days pressing down on me. "These men had..." I trail off, struggling with the memory. I hear Carol's gasp of shock.  "They didn't..." I force myself to say the words, as if uttering them could turn the close call into some sort of twisted victory. "But they almost did."

Carol's eyes widen, and her voice trembles with a mix of guilt and self-loathing. "I'm so sorry," she says, her tone shaky. "It was my fault Rick found out. If I had known what he was going to do..."

"I know," I reassure her, trying to ease her burden. "I'm not mad at you."

 I'm really not. The truth is, the revelation of my past, while painful, was a necessary part of moving forward. Rick's decision, harsh as it was, pushed me out of the prison and ultimately back to my family. 

I'm here now, and that's what matters.

"But you should be," Carol insists, her voice thick with self-loathing. "You should talk to Tyreese."

The thought of facing Tyreese makes my stomach churn. "He doesn't want to talk to me," I say quietly.

Carol takes a deep breath, her face pained. "We made it out with Lizzie and Mika too," she reveals after a pause.

"They didn't make it?" I ask.

"Lizzie killed Mika," Carol explains, her voice cracking with the weight of the memory. "She couldn't understand what walkers were, what they meant. I had to protect Judith..."

I place a comforting hand on Carol's shoulder, feeling the weight of our shared sorrow. In this world, no matter how hard we try, we are all forced to kill in order to survive. As we quicken our pace and rejoin the group, our pain and the difficult truths we've faced are set aside for now.  

...

We all took a break to find some water and rest, with Daryl heading off to hunt. I walked to a small stream to wash the cuts on my face. The persistent ache in my face, now fully purple and my eye swollen shut, is a reminder of the adrenaline that's finally worn off, leaving me with nothing but pain.