Firecracker ➝ Daryl Dixon

Chapter 14: Realization

An exhale hitched in Arden’s lungs causing her throat to burn and eyes to water.  Tremors of panic immobilized her as she watched Rick and Glenn carry in an injured Daryl. Dirt clung to Daryl’s face and his right arm was splattered with dry blood.  Despite her distance Arden swore she could smell the iron- the fresh crimson liquid which oozed from Daryl’s forearm, dripping from his fingers down to the prison floor.   

She could hear the concerned voices shouting from prison cells, dashing down metal stairs, pushing past her to helicopter around the injured man whose head bobbed up and down.  Arden swallowed hard and took a single step forward because she wanted to rush towards Daryl.  She wanted to run her fingers over the injured skin while mumbling prayers and hopes.  Wrap her arms around his neck and whisper how grateful she was that he was alive, that he returned because injuries heal but his death would shatter an already broken world.

Arden clamped a shaky hand over her mouth because no, this wasn’t happening.  No, her chest wasn’t caving in over Daryl Dixon.  Her breathing wasn’t ragged, palms sweaty, legs trembling, hairline sweating, and stomach aching because of this man.  Mind wandered back to that day nearly three weeks ago when she had met Talia and Hank.  When she had realized that the redneck she once loathed captivated her like how shooting stars captivate hopeless dreamers.  Her time had since been consumed with analyzing Talia and Hank’s stories of Matt and begging Rick to provide her with a vehicle so she could face the winter air and search for her brother. 

Now these overwhelming thoughts banged on her mind, scratching the frontal lobe and pounding on her temples while Arden desperately tried to keep them at bay.  But she failed.  As soon as those blue eyes connected with hers the invisible wall crumbled down, leaving Arden breathless and terrified.  She broke the eye contact with Daryl and did the only thing she could think of.  She ran.  Fast and stumbling footsteps and once she was outside, the frigid air enveloping her, she continued running until her thoughts and emotions grabbed her ankles and forced her down.

Knees sunk into the soft Earth as lifeless hip-high weeds swayed around her, enveloping her in their brittle grasp.  “I can’t,” Arden curled forward, pressing her forearms into the ground and resting her head on her clasped hands, “You can’t you just can’t.”

It was one thing staying with this eclectic group of people.  Working with them.  Eating with them.  Smiling at their antics and feeling comfortable in their presence.  Caring about their safety.  That was fine but falling for one of them, developing an attraction and feelings that made her heart flutter and stomach twist now that was not okay.  It broke her promise and she could feel the repressed memory growing like a cancer and making her head pulsate.

Bloodied hands clasped onto twenty one year old Arden’s arms, short nails digging into her flesh as wild eyes attempted to focus.  Arden was breathing heavily, her heart racing and eyes daring to look behind her brother and examine the gory scene.  “What did you do?” she whispered before screaming it at the top of her lungs because maybe the heavens would give her an answer.

Matt clamped his hand over Arden’s mouth and violently shook his head left to right.  “No, no, no, no, no, just listen to me okay- listen it’s not what it looks like.”

Arden tore her face away, hot tears burning ravines into her honey beige skin.  “You promised!  We wouldn’t go inside!  We wouldn’t and…” her eyes landed on the bashed in skull of a man she had never met and her dinner came spewing from her mouth.

“Arden, Arden, listen I just had to I had to meet them and then he- he attacked and Arden we have to go we have to go!”

A loud snarl and crack broke Arden from her trance and she noticed a wooden support leaning up against the fence had slid from its place.  She also realized that she had begun crying and it made her body quiver with anger because there was no use thinking about that day anymore.  Slowly her thoughts drifted back to Daryl.  His gorgeous eyes.  The way his biceps flexed as he aimed his crossbow, inhaling softly and pulling the trigger with an exhale that parted his chapped lips.  Rosy pink lips that he rubbed with his thumb when thinking and how when he was nervous he shifted his weight and stared down at the ground because for being a badass he was a socially awkward man who enjoyed his solitude and didn’t feel good enough most of the time.