Catch Fire | Daryl Dixon

LOSING DOGS

Kennedy's POV

Seventeen days had passed since Beth died, and in that time, Daryl and I hadn't exchanged a single word. The grief and guilt weighed heavily on both of us, creating a chasm that seemed impossible to bridge. My symptoms had been persistent, adding a physical burden to my emotional one. Despite this, the others, except grieving Maggie and Sasha, and a distant Daryl, had been looking out for me, providing small comforts and support.

On the seventeenth day, Rick, Glenn, Daryl, Tyreese, and Sasha went on a supply run. When they returned, the sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows across our makeshift camp. The group gathered around, sharing what little they had found. Daryl stood apart, his expression as unreadable as ever. Without a word, he tossed a small box at the ground in front of me. It landed with a dull thud, and I stared at it, recognizing it immediately: a pregnancy test.

Daryl turned and stalked off, sitting further away from the group. His actions ignited a spark of anger within me, a flame that had been slowly building over the past weeks. I was tired of his silent treatment, his refusal to acknowledge me except in anger or resentment.

I picked up the test and walked away, my steps heavy with a mix of defiance and exhaustion. Finding a secluded spot behind a tree, I took the test and sat there, waiting for the result. The seconds stretched into what felt like hours, my mind swirling with thoughts of everything that had happened. When the result finally appeared, confirming what I already knew, I couldn't hold back the tears. I let everything out, the grief, the guilt, the fear, all pouring out in silent sobs.

After a while, I wiped my eyes and took a deep breath, gathering myself. I needed to return to the group to face whatever came next. As I walked back, the camp was quiet, everyone sensing the tension that had settled over us.

I approached Daryl, who was sitting alone, and tossed the positive test at his feet, mimicking his earlier action. It landed in the dirt between us, and I watched him as he glared at me. Without a word, I turned and walked back to where I had been sitting.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Daryl pick up the test. For a brief moment, a flicker of something crossed his face-recognition, maybe even a hint of fear-but it was quickly masked by his usual stoic expression. He remained silent, staring at the test in his hand before shoving it into his pocket.

The air was thick with unspoken words, the tension between us palpable. The others continued with their tasks, but I could feel their eyes on us, their concern and curiosity evident. I sat down, my mind a whirlwind of emotions, and stared into the distance, trying to find some semblance of peace in the chaos.

Rick approached me after a while, his face etched with concern. "You okay?" he asked quietly.

I nodded, though I knew he could see through my facade. "Yeah," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper.

He gave my shoulder a reassuring squeeze before returning to the others. I glanced over at Daryl, who was still sitting alone, his expression unreadable. For a moment, our eyes met, and I wondered if there was a way to bridge the gap between us, to find some common ground amidst our shared grief and impending parenthood.

As night fell, the campfire crackling softly in the background, I sat alone, my mind still reeling from the events of the day. The confirmation of my pregnancy weighed heavily on me, a mix of relief and fear swirling within.

Carol approached quietly, her footsteps almost inaudible. She sat beside me, her presence a soothing balm. I glanced at her, my eyes filled with unshed tears. "Michonne was right," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "The test was positive."

Without a word, Carol pulled me into a side hug, her arm wrapping around my shoulders, providing the comfort and attention I desperately craved from Daryl. The dam holding back my emotions broke, and I couldn't stop the tears from falling. I buried my face in Carol's shoulder, letting the sobs escape in quiet, shuddering breaths.