Our Extinction Event {Daryl Dixon}

A Day Of Peace

The morning after the walker attack, Parker sat in the back of a truck with Daryl, trying to learn how to turn sticks into arrows. Something she's tried to do multiple times in the past but still continued to fail at accomplishing.

"I can't do it," Parker groaned in frustration, tossing the stick aside and setting her knife down. "I'm pretty sure it's impossible."

"It ain't impossible," Daryl grumbled, pushing her knife away from her. "I can make 'em just fine. You're just too impatient. You have to be more damn careful."

"But even if I do it 'carefully' it doesn't work," Parker ran her hands through her hair before letting them fall back into her lap. Her eyes locking onto the pile of sticks before deciding to make another attempt.

"God, has anyone ever told you that you're a terrible student?" Daryl asked to which she nodded her head in response to.

"Yes. That's why I became a teacher."

"I forgot you used to be a teacher," Daryl admitted, setting down his practically perfectly carved arrow. "I can't imagine you standing in front of kids and teaching them the alphabet."

"Well to be fair, half the time I forget too. And not even I can picture myself teaching kids anymore," Parker replied. "I was thinking about this the other day. Kids no longer need to learn how to do fractions and pay taxes. They need to learn how to use knives and guns and learn how to carve... damn... sticks!" She let out another groan as she broke another stick, throwing the broken pieces to the ground. "I give up. This is useless. Literally."

"Yeah, you are," Daryl poked at her, earning a playful punch on the shoulder from his wife. "Just keep to usin' knives."

"I will," Parker snapped back jokingly as her eyes zoned in on Tara as she descended the steps of the Barrington House. "Hey, Tara."

"Hey," Tara greeted, her hands locked in front of her as she walked over. "It's been over a day," She pointed out as she finally reached where they were sitting. "Still not sick. Doc says I'm cool."

"Thats amazing," Parker told her with a smile.

"You're a tough son of bitch," Daryl commented as he looked down at what he was doing.

"Daryl, it just means that Dwight shot me with a clean arrow," Tara responded, bringing up the conversation they'd had the day before.

"Or it means you got lucky," Daryl argued, not willing to believe that Dwight was on their side. Or at least not on Negan's. "Could be anything. It's not like a bite, sometimes nothin' happens."

"Daryl..." Tara tried to speak but he was quick to talk over her.

"Look, if Dwight knew, he could have warned us. Could've sent us a message," Daryl continued, determined to make her change her mind. The same way she was determined to make Daryl change his.

"Well, maybe he couldn't," Tara offered up the idea while Parker stayed quiet, looking back and forth between the two whilst they spoke while continuing to try and make a somewhat decent arrow.

"He let a whole day go by while our people lay around dying," Daryl gestured to where Jesus and a few others were burying the dead.

"Everybody else in the battle who got injured got sick," Tara pointed out. "That can't be an accident."

"So, he just gets a pass?" Daryl asked with a condescending tone. "Is that it?"

"Damn it.." Parker huffed out, throwing the snapped stick aside and grabbing a new one.

"May- maybe," Tara replied, looking away briefly. "Look, you said that we might need him, and we might need him now more than ever, and what I'm saying is that if I had killed him, maybe I would be dead right now." Daryl dropped his gaze back to the knife and stick in his hand. "Look, do what you gotta do. But know it's just for you." Daryl looked at Parker when Tara left, and Parker raised her eyebrows.