Between Arrows and Hearts - Daryl Dixon

Be careful

As Cass approached the RV, a tightness settled in her chest.

Since everything had started, the RV had been the heart of their camps, the place where everyone gathered. Even on the road, it was their temporary home.

Cass couldn't even count the memories tied to it. Tagging along while others stood guard, sneaking naps to avoid Lori or Carol roping her into doing laundry. And most of those memories were tied to Dale.

Because the RV wasn't just the group's home. It had been his home.

But Dale was gone.

When she finally reached the RV, she found Andrea already standing nearby as Glenn worked on the engine. The blonde must have taken her place after she stay overhearing Rick and Daryl's conversation.

Neither Glenn nor Andrea said a word as Cass joined them, but their silent presence spoke volumes.

"Dale told me these old vehicles get corrosion on the points." Glenn said, not looking up from his work.

"Screwdriver?" Andrea offered, holding out the tool.

Glenn glanced up, studying it briefly. "Flathead."

Cass winced as she watched Glenn. Everyone was grieving Dale's death, but Glenn's pain was sharper, laced with guilt.

She'd tried talking to him that morning, repeating over and over that Dale wouldn't have blamed him, wouldn't have been disappointed, and certainly wouldn't have wanted him drowning in guilt. But none of it seemed to reach Glenn. He couldn't shake the feeling that he'd let Dale down by not standing by him during the argument the night before.

With the correct tool in hand, Glenn got back to work. Cass and Andrea stood in silence, their gazes drifting to the RV.

Dale had once told them how he'd bought it after his wife, Irma, suggested a road trip. She hadn't lived to take it with him, but Dale had gone anyway, driving across the country in her memory.

At least he's with her now.

She glanced at Andrea, who wore a faint, wistful smile. Neither of them spoke, but they didn't need to. They both seemed to be thinking the same thing: Dale would have wanted them to rise above their grief. He would've wanted them to hold on to their humanity and refuse to let the pain consume them.

"Can you hand me a file?" Glenn asked, breaking their shared reverie.

Andrea handed it over without hesitation. Glenn accepted it but remained quiet.

For a long moment, the only sounds were the faint scrape of metal and the occasional rustle of wind through the trees. Then Glenn spoke, his voice low and cracked.

"I let him down."

Andrea didn't hesitate. "He was proud of you," She said firmly. "Maybe not in that exact moment, but overall."

Glenn's hands stilled, his shoulders tensing. "Oh, that's easy for you to say,"  He murmured, holding back tears. "You two had his back."

Andrea's gaze softened, though her voice remained steady. "I've got my share of regrets," She admitted. "But I think he knew how much we cared for him."

"Of course he knew," Cass said, stepping into the conversation. "Come on, he was Dale. He knew everything about everyone before we even knew it about ourselves."

Andrea let out a soft laugh, but Glenn remained quiet, his focus still on the engine.

Cass moved closer, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "He wouldn't have doubted for a second that you cared about him. And he was proud of you."