Catch Fire | Daryl Dixon

CLAIMED

As the sun began to dip below the horizon, the group set up camp for the night. The men moved with practised efficiency, setting up a perimeter and gathering what little firewood they could find. Daryl led us to a spot a little away from the others, a small semblance of privacy amidst the strangers. We had nothing but our bags, no sleeping bags or blankets, and the chill of the night air was already starting to seep into my bones.

I sat against a tree, my back pressed against the rough bark, trying to steady my breathing. The nausea had come and gone in waves throughout the day, and my ribs ached with every breath. I hugged my knees to my chest, hoping the position would provide some comfort. Daryl busied himself, arranging our meagre belongings and keeping a wary eye on the group.

Just as I began to drift into my thoughts, Joe approached, his steps slow and deliberate. His presence was imposing, and I could feel the tension in Daryl's posture as he straightened up to face him.

"Evenin'," Joe said, his voice low and gravelly. He glanced at me, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Daryl, you might want to stake your claim before the boys get any ideas."

My stomach twisted with a mix of fear and anger. The way Joe looked at me made my skin crawl, and his insinuation was clear. Daryl stepped closer to me, his body a protective barrier between me and Joe.

"She's not a piece of meat," Daryl said, his voice firm and resolute. "She's a person."

Joe chuckled, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Hey, just lookin' out for you, brother. Can't be too careful these days. Lotta desperate men out here."

Daryl didn't respond, his eyes never leaving Joe's. After a moment, Joe shrugged and turned away, heading back to the main camp.

I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. The exhaustion and stress of the day weighed heavily on me, and I felt the familiar sting of tears pricking at my eyes. Daryl knelt beside me, his expression softening as he looked at me.

"You okay?" he asked, his voice low and gentle.

I nodded, swallowing hard.

He reached out, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "We'll get through this," he said, his voice filled with determination.

I leaned into his touch, drawing strength from his presence. "I know," I whispered.

Daryl sat down beside me, his arm wrapping around my shoulders. We sat in silence for a while, the sounds of the night filling the space around us. The rustling of leaves, the distant calls of nocturnal animals, and the low murmur of the men's voices as they settled in for the night.

My thoughts drifted to Beth, and a pang of guilt shot through me. I blinked back tears, not wanting to show weakness. Daryl's hand gently rubbed my arm; his touch was warm and comforting, and I leaned into him, taking solace in his strength.

As the night wore on, the exhaustion became too much to fight. I rested my head on Daryl's shoulder, my eyelids growing heavy. Despite the fear and uncertainty, the warmth of his embrace made me feel a little safer.

"Try to get some rest," Daryl murmured, his voice a soothing rumble against my ear. "I'll keep watch."

Despite the warmth and reassurance of Daryl's presence, sleep eluded me. I closed my eyes and tried to let exhaustion take over, but every sound in the forest seemed amplified in the silence of the night. Each rustle of leaves and snap of twigs sent a jolt of adrenaline through me, pulling me back from the edge of sleep.

I shifted uncomfortably against the rough bark of the tree, my ribs aching with every movement. I glanced around the camp, the flickering light of the fire casting eerie shadows on the faces of the other men. They slept soundly, their weapons within easy reach, their guard seemingly lowered in this temporary refuge.