Daryl's Angel (10th Anniversary Edition)

Chapter 43: Where I Belong

Daryl walks through the forest with Merle close behind him, the only sound between them the crunching of leaves beneath their feet.

He didn't sleep well, tossing and turning through the times Merle kept watch, just thinking about her. It's easier to ignore the ache in his chest when he's moving but when he's resting, it weighs on him. She's there in his head whenever he stops actively thinking of anything else and whenever he tries to distract himself, she's an echo.

He hopes she isn't taking it too hard. He chooses to believe that, in time, she'll move on and find better than anything he can give her, even if the idea of another man touching her makes him sick.

One night away from her, he already thinks he's made a huge mistake. It felt like that when he was walking away. The second she screamed after him he wanted to turn around and take it all back, kneel at her feet and apologize for letting those words leave his mouth.

"Slow up!" Merle calls. "Gotta take a piss."

Daryl stops, leaning against the nearest tree, waiting while his brother stomps off to do his business. He checks his crossbow, squinting as he peers through the scope. They haven't encountered any animals and his stomach is starting to complain.

"There ain't nothing out here but mosquitoes and ants," Daryl calls.

"Patience, little brother," Merle says. "Sooner or later, a squirrel is bound to scurry across your path."

"Even so, that ain't much food."

"More than nothing."

"I'd have better luck going through one of them houses we passed back on the turnoff."

"Is that what your new friends taught you? Hm?" Merle finishes, zipping his fly closed again as he returns to Daryl's side. "How to loot for booty?"

Daryl purses his lips. "We've been at it for hours," he says. He checks his scope again. "Why don't we find a stream, try to look for some fish?"

"I think you're just trying to lead me back to the road, man. Get me over to that prison."

"They got shelter." They have Hope. "Food." And Hope. "A pot to piss in. Might not be a bad idea."

"For you, maybe. You just wanna get back to that girl of yours," Merle says. Daryl's jaw clenches and Merle snorts out a laugh. "I know you, little brother, but you also know there ain't gonna be no damn party for me."

"She defended you," Daryl says. "Tried to convince 'em to let you come back." She wished him luck back then too, when he went to get Merle from the roof.

"Aw, that makes me feel real warm and fuzzy," Merle says, a smarmy, sarcastic smile playing across his lips. "Maybe, since you're done with her, I can take a turn." Daryl rounds on him, fire in his eyes, and Merle immediately raises his hand, whistling. "Whoo! Down, boy. I'm kidding. There just ain't much opportunity to get your dick wet nowadays, is all."

"I'll still kick your teeth in."

He scoffs. "Makes no difference anyway. They're all dead."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Right about now, he's probably hosting a housewarming party where he's gonna bury what's left of your pals, of your woman." He spits onto the dirt and, when Daryl doesn't reply or look at him, he starts walking again. "Let's hook some fish. Come on."

Daryl exhales, but follows as he tries to put the images of his family's corpses from his mind.

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"Smells to me like the Sawhatchee Creek," Merle comments, taking a whiff of the air.

Daryl shakes his head. Whatever he's smelling, it's probably nothing more than the decaying scent that seems to linger wherever they go. When a planet dies, there's bound to be rot, but at least the forest still smells alive out here.