𝙃𝙀𝙔, 𝙈𝙍. 𝘽𝙄𝙆𝙀𝙍 • daryl dixon.

ii • put to work

"So, no community, huh?" Glenn questioned.

We'd been walking for about half an hour. It was slow, and with Daryl behind us carrying a torch of hatred it made the journey all the more awkward.

"No... how did you even manage to find people?" I rubbed my aching shoulder, switching my bag full of canned foods off to the other side.

"Well, Rick was actually in a coma when the apocalypse started. He survived and I happened to be in the city when he was running around. I basically saved his life." Glenn gloated, punching Rick playfully in the arm.

"Yeah, I guess you did." Rick agreed. "Well anyway, Glenn's group happened to be with Lori and Carl; my wife and son."

I felt a feeling of happiness bloom in my chest. To wake up from a coma, completely disoriented and all alone, walk out into an undead filled world, and find the two people who mean the most to you? I was jealous.

Rick must be a pretty badass guy if he somehow managed to get himself together enough to escape wherever he was without being bitten and make it to his family.

"Daryl and Merle are in our little community too, but Merles been gone for a while..." Rick looked guilty as he spoke, almost as if he were responsible for Merle's absence. He dared a glance back at Daryl, who was currently shooting death dagger glares back at the three of us.

"Hey, what's your issue, Daryl?" Glenn was clearly getting irritated with Daryl's bad attitude. He shot me an apologetic smile before slowing his pace to walk with the angry man.

I tried not to hear their whispers behind me. I knew I was the topic conversation; I don't blame Daryl for being skeptical about me - if that's what the issue is - but right to my face? At least have some decorum.

"Carol's a great lady. She'll fix you up nice. My wife, Lori, she's been acting off recently so she might be a little feisty, but she's good company. You'll fit in just fine." Rick spoke about his friends and family in such high regards it made me miss mine.

"That sounds nice. Honestly, Ive been going crazy with nobody to talk to."

"Makes me wonder how you've managed to stay alive without anyone. Was it hard?" Rick asked.

I could tell he was also distracted by the two men whispering angrily to each other behind us. I caught a few words and phrases, some of which including: "She would've died without us!", "That's natural selection.", and my personal favorite, "It's just a damn woman. When have you ever cared about one?"

I just couldn't understand it. Daryl was the one who shot the man and killed him. Daryl was the one who initiated the killings. So why was he the one who seemed to be giving the most shit about the situation?

"Dahlia?" Rick pulled me out of my thoughts, which I was grateful for, since the sinking stomach feeling seemed to be vanishing.

"...No, it wasn't hard. I just scavenged for food a lot. I..." I caught my breath, debating on whether or not I could trust my new friends enough to share my achievements. "...I have a few cans in this bag; it's just stuff I found at the diner where you found me." I held up my heavy bag.

"Oh, that's nice. We have electricity and a few heaters you can warm those up on." Rick didn't even look interested in the food I had until a shameful smile washed over his face. "I hate to be a bother, but do you happen to have any canned spaghetti? My wife... she's sort of been craving some and —"

"I do. Three cans; you can have them all." I smiled back, shaking my bag as he nodded in thanks.

It's the least I could do for people who'd just saved my life.