You could feel it in your chest; the tightness and the way lumps formed low in your throat. Usually for you that meant crying would take place, a painful but much needed release. That is until you realized that you couldn't.
It was as if someone took all the tears out of your eyes, yet left you with the heavy feeling in your chest.
Leaning your head against the moss covered tree, you stare out at the woods that went for miles in front of you.
Today marked the third week since Atlanta, and everyone lost something either then and there... Or sometime since then. Only making the fact that you all were hungry, dehydrated, in pain and in the middle of no where worse.
With your arms wrapped tightly around your legs, pulling them inward toward your chest you let out a soft sigh. All you want is to be able to cry, just for a moment while you're alone.
But you have no such luck.
Soon enough, that small second of knowing it was just you changes, as the distinct smell of cigarette smoke comes blowing from behind you. From the one person you could feel was there behind you, without even having to turn around to know who it is.
Daryl was one of the people in the group who had taken Atlanta the hardest. Beth. When you'd all been separated after the prison, she somehow found a way to keep him going. To keep him sane and to keep him from not giving up on any hope.
"The smoke gives you away." You quietly tell him, rubbing the back of your hand under your nose.
You hear his heavy footsteps, his boots crunching in the fallen leaves and dried up dirt.
"They wanted me to come get 'cha." Daryl says simply, as you begin to stand up. Dusting off your pants, not making much of a different in the amount of dust and blood that is coating your clothes.
Looking at Daryl used to bring you some kind of mix between hope and calmness. But ever since he saw Beth fall dead in that hospital hallway, his eyes had changed. The once deep blue eyes that held emotion when he couldn't express any, and held stability for you when you needed it... Was gone. They were a darker shade now, almost a dark ocean blue in the blackness of night.
"She saved you," You speak up, walking back through a tall grass growing meadow on the way back to the road where the group waits. "didn't she?"
Daryl stops walking, pausing a moment before turning to look at you. His crossbow gripped tightly in his hand, and sweat shinning all over his body in the Sun.
He gives a barely visible nod, "Somethin like that."
Watching him avoid looking straight back at you, you walk towards him. "Look, I try to let myself go through it as much as I can handle, but sometimes like now I can't fully because it'll destroy me."
All the death. All the loss. All the heartbreak.
"But you," Shaking your head, Daryl's eyes flicker up to meet yours. "I know you Daryl. And you have to let yourself feel it."
Blinking a few times, his long locks of greasy hair hangs so close to his eyes you know one day you won't be able to even see them. "You have to allow yourself to feel it."
Your hand takes his right one, that doesn't hold his weapon. Grasping his warm hand right, the feeling of just a simple touch from him gave you returning butterflies. It had been a long while since any type of contact, and it felt good to have it back. Even if it was a hold of a hand.
Closing the space between the two of you, you press you lips lightly to his own. Being able to taste the nicotine on his chapped lips, you find yourself feeling some sort of comfort from the sensory.
Pulling back you look into his eyes one last time before walking back to the group. Daryl a few steps behind you.
The day dragged on, with no signs of food nor fresh water. Daryl had went off on his own in the middle of the day, you had thought about following him but decided to let him be.
Coming back maybe ten minutes later, you believe you're the only one to have noticed the slight red and blotchy marks around his eyes. But you'd grown to notice the small things about him, pick up on things others wouldn't. And looking at him then, you knew he took a moment. To feel it.
You had lost track days ago on how many miles you all had travelled, stopping when you had hit double digits.
As the day was beginning to fade into dusk, knowing the bright blistering Sun would soon be replaced with the dark star filled night sky. But today was a bit different, the blue sky had slowly faded into a grey and light thunder boomed from above.
This meant one thing. Rain.
Soon enough, a refreshing fall of rain graced you all. The feeling of cool water even on your skin beginning to quench your thirst. But it didn't stay light and peaceful for long, as it began to downpour hard.
"There's a barn!" Daryl shouts to Rick over the loud storm.
Tracing back his steps to where had ventured off to earlier, sure enough there is a small wooden barn. Hidden within the emerald green pine trees.
The smell was awful, but to be fair you'd smelled worse. But the place turned out to be much more spacious then it appeared on the outside.
Setting down your things in a corner, leaning against the deep wood boards you pull your soaked hair out of it's ponytail form.
Trying to dry it on your shirt, you spot Daryl walking over to you. Bending down to sit beside you, his shoulder brushing against your own.
"Here." He mumbles, handing you the red rag he always keeps in his back pocket.
Looking over at him, the light from the fire on the other side of the barn eluminates part of his face in a golden orange.
Taking the rag, you squeeze your rain soaked hair drying it better than you could with your shirt.
"You were right," Daryl speaks up again, keeping his voice low so only you can hear him talk. "bout feelin it."
Setting the cloth down, you bend you knees while tilting your head to get a better look at him.
"I never got to thank her," You whisper, seeing her young face in your mind. Her shimmering blond hair and the sound of her voice. "for keeping you going out there when I lost you."
Daryl's hand inches toward yours, soon tangling his finger with yours. The simple gesture of him holding your hand says more than a kiss and more than him saying those three words.
"For keepin me alive." Daryl says, correcting you.
"For keeping you alive." You confirm, leaning your head in his shoulder. The smell of the rain soaking into his skin, mixing with the scent of pine and smoke.
"You cry yet?" Daryl questions you, his tone calm.
You let out a low laugh, "If I say yes, are you going to make fun of me?"
Daryl shakes his head, kissing your hand he still holds tightly. The warmth from his lips spreads rapidly over your skin, warming the coldness it had developed.
"I haven't," You answer him. "not yet. It's like I've used up all my tears already. Too many losses."
Daryl's finger softly touches your chin, bringing it to the side you look at him once again.
"You will, cry again. But ye ain't got to cry over me." Daryl assures you, and the stabilty and love soon returns to his eyes.
"I ain't goin no where."
A/N: I love this episode when Carol talkss to Daryl about needing to feel it, and then the one when he cries while he's off on his own. This one made me tear up while writing!!❤
