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It had been weeks, nearly a month since Daryl had last seen you, since anyone in the group had seen you. After what had happened on Hershel's farm, you were with the group for months, until the Governor caught you alone on a run.
People had assumed you were dead, though they weren't able to locate your body in the market where you had been scavenging for supplies. It took two weeks for the group to give up, knowing exactly what had happened with Sofia, they were sure you had ended up in a similar situation.
But Daryl didn't. Daryl knew you, even since before the apocalypse you had been 'one tough bitch', as he called you before. You were quite familiar with both of the Dixons, you grew up with them.
You and Daryl were close when it came to age, him being only eighteen months older than you. You went to highschool together, helped eachother through a lot of shit and stayed by eachother since.
The two of you were inseparable, there was nothing you couldn't do. You understood Daryl in a way that nobody else could, even Merle. So when Lori first suggested your death, he knew she was wrong from the get go.
You weren't dead. You wouldn't go out that easily, not without a fight. The Governor was smart, but you were smarter, you were cunning.
Even after everyone else stopped looking, after everyone told Daryl that he should take a rest, he didn't.
Weeks, maybe months later even, and still not a trace. The Governor had planted fake evidence, tried to throw the group off track, which he successfully did many times. But not this time.
Merle was mostly a loyal man, though most didn't choose to see him as one. He was a very large flaw in the Governors plan. Merle didn't pity you, no matter how many times you told him you had to get back to Daryl or that you knew him, he wouldn't budge. He wanted something, but you couldn't tell what.
Torture. The word had seemed to be slung around your neck on a carved piece of wood. Punch after punch, slap after slap, bruise after bloody nose, you still refused to give up where the group was. No matter if he would hit you or touch you inappropriately, you wouldn't risk the lives of your family, of Daryl.
So when Merle agreed to take Daryl to you, Daryl wasn't so sure that he was really taking him to you. He loved his brother, he trusted his brother, but something about him was different. He didn't know him anymore.
It was the same thing you had been facing everyday, him turning you down whenever you made an offer or an escape plan. He refused.
The first steps Daryl took behind Merle, he could sense it. He decided that maybe he could try to get him to open up a bit, talk more about the current situation.
"How's she doin'?" Daryl began to interrogate.
Merle stopped in his tracks, a dead silence rushing over the brothers as Daryl caught up, standing parallel from him.
"She's still one tough bitch, if that's what you're asking." Merle's gravelly voice rang out, something you never enjoyed hearing.
Daryl's voice had always been smoother than his older brother's, which was something you preferred. Daryl's voice was music to you, while Merle's was more of a broken record just asking to be snapped in half.
"What's happened to 'er?" Daryl was stern and earnest this time, something he hadn't used all that often when it came to talking to with his brother.
Merle shook his head, a sickening grin coming into play on his sweat beaded face. He looked down at the blade that had replace this hand, watching as the metal of it reflected an image of the sun.
"More than you would ever be able to handle," the words were something that Daryl had feared, they caused him to tense, "hell, I'm the one who has to hear it all night through those goddamned vents. Sometimes I think I should just go down there and put 'er out of 'er misery myself."
As soon as those sinful words slipped from between Merle's teeth, Daryl had his crossbow aimed at him in no time.
"Whoa there baby brother," Merle reached his hand out, attempting to grab the crossbow from Daryl's callused hands.
"What's the matter with ya?" he continued, Daryl moving away and continuing to walk.
"You say anything like that about 'er again," Daryl hissed, once again shoving the crossbow inbetween Merle's eyes, "I will shoot ya myself."
And off he went, continuing on his path to find you. What Merle had said made his blood run cold, he hated the idea of you having to go through anything without someone there for you, then again something physical.
But what really made him indignant, was the fact that Merle had been able to witness all of these things happen to you, and that he didn't do anything about it.
Merle's pace excelled to a jog until he reached where Daryl walked, cutting through the branches of the forest angrily.
"Why do you care for the doll so much anyways?" Merle catechized, his tone laced with venom.
Daryl continued to trudge, becoming more infuriated with each word that Merle spoke.
"Ya wanna know why?" he grumbled, slinging his crossbow over his shoulder as Merle watched with intensity, "because after all this damn time I now realize that she is the only one who has ever truly had my back.
She is the reason I keep fighting for this world, she's the reason that I'm here now. Hell she's the reason I wake up every morning. And whether you like it or not," Daryl turned to face Merle, who stood baffled,
"She is my everything, and nothing is going to take her away from me."
1064 words i don't know how i really feel about this one, but i don't hate it. there might be a part 2 of this if you guys want, but for now i hope you enjoyed this one. also, sorry it took so long for me to update, like I had previously mentioned i had been staying in a hotel for a family trip and didn't have very good connection, but i'm back now. :)
