TWD- Little Heart Of Iron

26. Prisoners.

After the sun went down, the group built a fire in the middle of the yard. Rick was walking around the perimeter of the fence, while Daryl was on top of a tipped over bus. He was keeping watch. Blake was on the bus with Daryl, as well. She had finished eating whatever they made on the fire, so now she was just keeping herself occupied.

"Surprised ya ain't tired yet," Daryl commented.

"I am," Blake said as she stared out into the night, "I just can't sleep."

"Well, ya should. I know this place ain't completely safe, but it's better than anythin' we've had in the last few months," Daryl said, staring down at his niece.

"Nah, it ain't that. Walkers don't scare me anymore," Blake said in a solemn tone.

"Okay. Then what is it?" Daryl asked in a quiet tone.

"Don't know," Blake shrugged her shoulders. "A lot a' things."

"Like?"

Blake hesitates for a moment. She takes a deep breath before answering. "My dad."

Daryl looked away, moving his face to dark sky for a few moments before looking back at Blake. "What about 'im?"

Blake shook her head, furrowing her eyebrows with confusion and angry as she looked at her feet. "I just keep thinkin' about that day him 'nd Merle went on that supply run, when we were at the quarry," Blake explained. "I mean, My dad was never willin' ta go into the city. Always stayed back and hunted for food, like you did. But the one time Merle makes my dad go with them, he ends up... killin' him."

That was a thought that had been lingering in her mind since the day she found out her dad died. She wanted answers, but she never found the right time to ask questions.

"And...I don't even know what Merle and my dad were arguin' about, on that day. Rick never told me. He just said things escalated fast." Blake sighed again and looked down at the gun in her hand. Her dad's gun. She could never shake the feeling of anxiety whenever she picked up the gun. "Do ya think they were fightin' about me?" She finally asked.

Daryl didn't say anything for a good few moments. He just stared at her with guilt in his eyes. As if she knew something that she didn't. "You don't gotta worry 'bout that," he finally said, trying to dismiss the conversation.

"But I should worry," Blake protested. "He was my dad, and I wanna know-"

"What? The same dad who use to beat on you any chance he got?" Daryl interrupted, his tone still hushed but stern. "He's gone, Bee. So is Merle. That's somethin' we gotta deal with."

Blake looked up at Daryl, anger forming on her expression as she squinted her eyes. She wasn't dumb. She was young, sure, but not dumb. "You know somethin', don't you? That's why you never wanna talk about it?"

Daryl stepped closer to his niece, almost towering over her. His expression was just as angry as hers, but he was careful not to be too loud. "Drop it, Bee. I mean it. Yer dad wasn't shit. You know that," he said.

Blake didn't say anything after that. When she saw Carol approaching the bus she angrily jumped down from the top of the fallen bus, walking past Carol and making it a point to show that she was pissed.

Carol looked at the girl with concern on her face as she watched her storm off back to the middle of the yard, where everyone else was. She looked back at Daryl, who now had guilt and anger etched on his expression. "Everything okay?" She asked cautiously.

"Fine," Daryl muttered.

•

Despite her anger, Blake was never able to stay mad at anyone for too long. She never knew why, but she felt bad if she was mad at someone, because she felt like she was hurting their feelings by doing so. So, she apologized that same night, before bed. And surprisingly Daryl did the same.