Panacea - {Daryl Dixon Fanfiction}

Day 300 - Days Gone By

As the days went by, with winter come and gone, Daryl began to think less and less of Gabry. It was unintentional, but he figured his window of opportunity to find her had long closed. Only little things triggered memories of her; front porch swings, checkered table cloths, and Bibles. He searched through any he'd find, and although a few had writing in them none of it was hers.

Gabry had become a ghost in a dead world. Little more than a distant memory.

"What are you doing?" It was Carol. She was always keeping an eye on him.

He laid down the Bible he was flipping through. "Nothing."

"Well, doesn't look like nothing. Every place we've been to you find a Bible to flip through."

"It's nothing." He said.

"Is it because of her?" Carol asked. She was the only one who knew about Gabrielle, and he preferred to keep it that way. "Were you religious?"

"She was." He said. Gabry never loved anything more than the Lord, and that was a fact. He supposed if he was going to find any trace of her, it'd be linked to the Word of God.

"Did you believe any of it?" Carol asked as she picked up the Bible, herself.

Daryl looked at her. "Seeing the way she believed made me. Besides...what else is there left to believe in nowadays."

* * *

"You're going to be fine. They're used to seeing new faces." Gabrielle whispered to Daryl as they walked in the backdoor of the church. She even sat on the back pugh to keep him out of their sight, and gave him permission to leave anytime. To be honest, he paid more attention to her than the sermon. He watched her sing  the hymn, listened at how she put her heart into every word. When the sermon came around, it was like she had written it herself.

"The Jesus said, 'Father, forgive them-"

"-for they know not what they do." He heard her murmur.

He watched her watch the preacher, eyes following his every move. It wasn't as boring as he thought it might be. The preacher could make the congregation laugh, could make them smile, and could make them understand the Word before them.

That Sunday the preacher told the story of the crucifixion, and he spoke of the two criminals on the cross next to Jesus. One demanded Jesus to do something for them, but the other knew they were receiving what they deserved. The second turned to the Lord and said, "Jesus, remember me," to which he replied, "Today you shall be with me in paradise."

Whether paradise actually existed or not, Daryl often found himself thinking, "Lord, remember Gabry," every time he'd finish taking down another horde of walkers and finding she hadn't been one of them. She was still just a needle in a haystack, though.

* * *

Daryl Dixon was not the only one on the hunt. Somewhere in center Georgia, with one less hand than before (thanks to that dickbag cop), was his brother Merle. He'd been picked up by an man named Philip who had deemed himself "the Governor" of a small town called Woodbury. In comparison, it was in ideal situation; he'd been appointed head of the Woodbury "army", and became the Governor's right hand man. 

Despite the benefits, Merle saw all of this as killing time. He was keeping a sharp eye out for that cop, Rick, the one who had handcuffed him to the roof in Atlanta in the first place. With a bayonet as a prosthetic, he'd give Rick was was coming to him. 

He kept an even sharper eye out for Daryl, wondering if he was even still alive at this point. He had to be. He was tough. After all, he grew up with Merle for a brother. Maybe he'd put a bullet through that cop's eyes the moment he heard about what had been done to his favorite brother.