Daryl had walked in silence alongside Maren, their footsteps echoing in the darkness. The weight of what had transpired outside of the party lingered heavily between them.
Maren clung desperately onto the blanket Daryl had so carefully and gently placed around her shoulders, seeking comfort in its warmth. He noticed how she flinched away from his touch, and it pained him to see her in such a state of distress.
"This might be a dumb question...but are ya okay?" Daryl asked, his voice filled with genuine concern.
Maren took a deep breath, her gaze fixed on the ground, "Yes..." she began, her voice wavering, "No. I-I'm not." A tear escaped her eye, tracing a path down her pale cheek.
Daryl moved closer to her, seeking permission before taking any action, "Can I...?" he asked softly. Maren nodded, her eyes never leaving the ground. Daryl gently wiped away the tear with his finger, his heart breaking at her pain.
"I should fuckin' kill him," he growled, his anger simmering beneath the surface.
Maren shook her head, her voice filled with a mix of sadness and resignation, "And where else would we go? You know there's nothing out there, Daryl." Daryl hung his head, understanding the truth in her words. The outside world was a desolate and dangerous place, and they had found a semblance of safety within the walls of the community. Killing him wouldn't change that reality.
"Daryl..." Maren's voice was low, barely audible, "I think...I think I should tell you about it." Daryl's head snapped up, his eyes filled with concern and unease.
"Ya don't have to..." he began, but Maren interrupted him.
"No, I think I need to," she insisted, her voice carrying a weight of vulnerability. And so, Daryl sat down beside her, his gaze unwavering and his heart open.
She draws a deep breath, as she recounts her story. He had known about the basics; she'd been at Georgia State University when it all went down, stuck in her dorm room with her roommate. But she had left soon after that, leaving Maren alone to wait for her dad to come and get her. That didn't happen, so she had left to find him on her own. The first few months had been okay, she'd be on her own and unbothered, quite able to defend herself against the undead. By late October, she'd run into trouble.
That's where Daryl no longer knew where she had been.
That's when she'd ran into them, the Claimers. Of course, she hadn't called them that at the time, nor did she truly understand who they were and what they were capable of. At first they had offered her their help, simply wanting to help her get back home to her family in Virginia. She had been weary of them initially, but after a day or two, she had thought everything was fine. That's exactly when it all went wrong.
They had seen how she trusted them, they'd been waiting for her to let her guard down. When she finally did, they attacked her. They'd held her hostage for months in that warehouse. She'd spent months with ropes around her wrists and dirty rags stuffed in her mouth as gags. After a few weeks, they had found a makeshift mattress. Not for her, but so that they'd be more comfortable when using her. It had been her very own personal hell. Every day it got worse, somehow more painful than the day before. Eventually, she had closed her eyes every time they'd use her, pretending she was anywhere else but in that godforsaken warehouse.
Daryl hadn't uttered a single word, allowing her to fully share her story with him. With each heartbreakingly disturbing word she spoke, he listened intently, absorbing the pain and trauma she had endured as if somehow he'd be able to save her from it.
"I still see them sometimes..." Maren speaks, the tears flowing more freely now, "I'll be looking at a walker and it's their faces I see. It's so weird the shit you remember, the small things stick out to me. The coldness of the concrete, the way they smelled, and their voices...still clear as day."
In that moment, as he sat there beside her, he felt a deep understanding of her pain and a renewed commitment to protect and support her, "You are so strong. I ain't never met nobody with as much strength as you," He paused, "You'll never be back there again and ain't none of them douchebags gonna hurt ya again."
Maren only hugged him, no more words were needed between them. The unspoken bond of trust and empathy grew stronger, forging a connection that would help them navigate the darkness together.
- TOO FAR GONE -
The next day had come around quickly. Carol's plan had worked; open the latch during the day, sneak in for the guns at night. It had worked.
And so Maren, Daryl, Rick, and Carol met once again, reconvening at the place where they had previously discussed obtaining said guns, just in case. After last night, Maren didn't want to be unarmed any longer. She told herself that she'd kill anyone that came at her like that, Spencer included.
Carol produces a small bag filled with handguns and offers them to the group, "Take your pick," she says, presenting the weapons.
Daryl glances at the guns but shakes his head, his gaze fixed on Maren, "Do we really need these? I mean, things go bad...yeah, sure. We do what we gotta do, but it's like ya said; we don't need these for that." Daryl's sentiment was certainly not what she had expected, but she assumed that his outing with Aaron the day before had convinced him otherwise. She had seen them together, and if Daryl trusted Aaron, then Maren knew he was trustworthy.
Carol speaks up, acknowledging Daryl's point, "Right now, we don't." There's a pause as everyone contemplates the situation. Daryl's conviction remains steadfast.
"You wanted me to try, right? I'm good." Daryl's firm stance prompts Rick to reach for one of the guns, but he hesitates. After a moment of reflection, he decides to grab one, recognizing the importance of being prepared.
Maren observes the exchange and makes her decision. She reaches for a handgun, looking at Daryl, "Better to be safe than sorry."
Each member of the group acknowledges the weight of their choices, understanding that the world they inhabit demands a delicate balance between trust and self-defense. With their weapons in hand, they prepare to face the uncertainties that lie ahead, their collective determination unwavering.
At least they would be prepared this time.
YOU ARE READING
Too Far Gone // D. Dixon
Fanfiction"We've all done the worst kinds of things just to stay alive, but we can still come back. We're not too far gone." Maren Smith has been on her own for a long time, even before the dead started to walk. Maren spent many daunting months fighting her w...
