Catch Fire | Daryl Dixon

OUTBURSTS

Kennedy's POV

I got back to Alexandria just as the sun was starting to peek over the horizon. It felt like I hadn't stopped moving in days, and the weight of it hit me the second I stepped through the gates. The trip back from Hilltop was long, my mind running circles around the mess I'd left behind and the mess waiting for me here. I had no idea what I was about to walk into.

When I reached the apartment, I half expected to hear Willow's voice or see Daryl fixing something up in the kitchen. Instead, the place was quiet. Too quiet. My heart sank as I walked through the empty rooms. Where the hell were they?

Panic started to creep in, but I forced myself to think rationally. Maybe Daryl was just out. Maybe Willow was with a friend. That was normal, right?

I headed out again, searching for any sign of them, and that's when I spotted Willow sitting with Ashley across the street. Relief flooded through me, but it was short-lived when I saw the look on Willow's face. She looked stressed, her little brow furrowed in a way that told me something was wrong.

The second she saw me, she ran over, wrapping her arms tightly around my waist, and I could feel the tension in her body. Something had happened.

"Mom!" she said, her voice a little shaky. I knelt down, pulling her into a tight hug.

"What's wrong?" I asked, brushing her hair away from her face.

Willow looked up at me with wide, anxious eyes. "Daddy didn't come home last night," she said softly. "I was all alone... until Ashley found me."

My stomach dropped. Daryl didn't come home. I tried to keep my face calm for Willow's sake, but inside I was already fuming. "And Lydia?" I asked, wondering why she hadn't been around to help.

She shook her head. "She's still in the cell."

I blinked, confused. The cell? Daryl hadn't mentioned anything about Lydia being locked up. Why the hell was she in the cell? She was the victim of all of this. None of it made any sense.

I thanked Ashley quickly and told Willow we were going to see Lydia. I wasn't waiting for answers from anyone else. Grabbing Willow's hand, we headed straight for the cell, my heart pounding in my chest with a mix of anger and worry.

When we walked in, Lydia's face lit up with relief, and before I could even say anything, she rushed forward and threw her arms around me, sobbing. My heart ached for her. This poor girl, she didn't deserve this.

"Are you okay?" I asked softly, looking her over. The bruises on her face were hard to miss, and it made my blood boil. "Why are you in here?" I asked, my voice gentle but firm.

Lydia sniffled, wiping her eyes. "I didn't feel safe out there."

I took a deep breath, trying to keep my anger in check. She shouldn't have felt safer in a cell than in her own home. "Come on, let's get you out of here," I said, wrapping an arm around her shoulder as we left the cell.

When we got back to the apartment, I guided Lydia inside and told her to go shower. "I'll get you some ointment for those bruises when you're done," I promised. She nodded silently and disappeared down the hall.

I turned to Willow next, who was watching me carefully, her big blue eyes full of questions. "Am I in trouble?" she asked quietly, her voice small.

I sighed, sitting down heavily on the couch and rubbing my hands over my face. "We'll talk about it later, Bug," I told her gently. "Go play in your room for now."

Willow gave me a small nod and scampered off, leaving me alone in the living room, feeling the weight of everything crashing down on me. Daryl hadn't told me about Lydia. He'd kept it from me, and I didn't understand why. I buried my face in my hands, trying to make sense of it all, but all I felt was frustration.