Instincts (Daryl Dixon FF)

t w o

[Season 4, before Internment]

No P.o.V

Rick clicked the gun. Margos eyes instantly shut close, face muscles flexing in hope to reduce the pain when the bullet would enter her skull. With her death, Dad and Nico had no chance to stay alive. Sure, they were tough, especially Dad who had a whole lot of life experience, tought her all the survival techniques and knew how to use every damn weapon, but however, he was already 60 years old. And Nico, god, he was still so young, there were so many things she wanted to show him, teach him. She wanted so see him grow up, having his first drink, cutting himself when he tries to shave. Yeah, maybe it was ridiculous to long for such things but the thought of having the chance to keep this little bit of normality kept her alive.

Every inch of her just screamed, desperately wanting to move away, escaping her fate. "Go". Wait, what? Quickly her lids were open again, glancing around the group, trying to figure out what the hell was happening. Rick grabbed her by the shoulder spinning the blonde around before giving her a rough push, signalizing Margo to move forwards. A young pretty women with brown hair opened one of the heavy metal doors, her green eyes observing Margo stepping over the doorsill. The rest of the cluster waddled behind them following the two like a herd of sheeps. She was lead through a dark floor, than another and another until they arrived in a greyish room, cells closely arranged next to each other on the left side. In the middle, a lonely staircase connecting to a second top row of cells. A patrol post hovered at the edge of them.

Before Margo could even take in the whole dimension of the cell block, Rick started to strobe her body, quickly discovering the small handgun stuck between her bright skin and the hem of her shoe. "Alright, sit down, then we'll talk", Rick instructed, sitting down himself, waiting quietly for all the members and Margo to take a seat at the large wooden table. The atmosphere was aggravating, people nervously fidgeting with their fingers, biting their lips.

"What's your name?", "Margo" she sighed, getting slowly annoyed by this whole situation. Couldn't they just let her go or shoot her, instead of examining her like some kind of criminal. "M'Maggie, hi", the women who had opened the door for them smiled, holding out her hand. Sure, it was meant to be a friendly gesture but Margo wasn't really in the mood after being captured and shoved around all day, so she just loosely gripped it, not bothering to make eyecontact. One after one the whole table introduced themselves. Next to Maggie sat her sister,a sweet blond girl named Beth, on her arms Ricks second child Judith, barely a few months old. Then there was Hershel, an elderly man, father of Maggie and Beth, Sasha, her brother Tyreese, Bob, Glenn, Carol, Michonne, Carl Ricks son and Daryl, the guy who stole HER horse. Rick also mentioned something about another cell block full of people, but they seemed to live kind of seperatly so Margo couldn't care less about that.

"Where ya people?", Daryl asked, his bigheaded attitude getting on Margos nerves. "Told you 'm on my own", she spat back, Daryl letting out a scoff before turning his head, obviously trying to contain his anger. "Look we have a safe place here, food, water, weapons, you could fit in but we gotta know how many people you bring", Rick said, locking eyes with her, his gaze intimidating. He knew they weren't well off. Yeah, they managed to keep themselves alive but all of them were slowly disintegrating, cheekbones sticking out, eyesacks and scratches making her face look tired and sick. Maybe it was a better option to finally join a group, but what if they were lying, just trying to find out where they were staying at and take their supplies, leaving them out there to die.

"Three, my dad, my little brother and me". "Too many", Daryl murmured, earning a dark blue glance from across the table. Rick silently watched, smirking as he felt the tension between them slowly increasing. Daryl never liked it when he would let new people join the group but on the other hand, he trusted Rick, which always had him end up in the same dilemma.

"How many walker ha-", Rick started being quickly interrupted by Daryl growling his name, but Rick just gave him a quick nod and continued with his question, "How many walkers have you killed?". "Too many to count", she answered, truely thinking it must have been hundreds by the time. Since she was in the best physical condition compared to the others, she did all the killing work, as far as it was possible. "How many people have you killed?", Margos eyes grew wide, "What?", she whisperscreamed, her facial expression clearly disgusted by the question. "Just answer the damn questions", Daryl snapped, his annoyance taking overhas he slammed his hands down on the table. "Calm down", the short haired women named Carol said, gripping his sleeve to stop him fom jumping off the bench.

"Why?", "Why? Well, because you don't fuckin' kill people!", she scoffed, throwing her arms in the air to emphasize her outrage. "Wher're your dad n' brother staying at?", Rick asked. "Like hell, 'm gonna tell you that", "Look, I already told you there's no other way. You know where our camp is, so either you join or you'll all have to die.", he looked Margo deep in the eyes, his gaze caring but cold. " That's how you deal with other people?! Are you kidding me? The world went to shit, that's why every damn life is precious at this point. If we loose our humanness, which you guys obviously have, there ain't gonna be any of us left. We're three fuckin' people and definetely not a threat to you guys being like 20 people. So don't fucking act like you don't have a choice, Rick". Margo shouted her index finger pointing at Rick, almost touching his nose. The table had gone quiet, some seeming uncomfortable due to the confrontation with their own actions. Rick cleared his throat, standing up and slowly walking through the door they came in. "You've got 'til tomorrow", he rasped stepping away into the darkness of the prison.

Daryl stood up next, got around the table and roughly grabbed Margo by her wrists, squeezing extra hard. She was led into a cell, the heavy bars banging as Daryl shut the door close behind her. But well, oh well, did he not know Margo, as soon as the broad men had turned his back towards her, she snitched the keys right out of his back pocket, her fingers gently lacing around the cool metal form.

Those people were killers, only looking after themselves, just because the law is gone, doesn't mean they can just blow off their sense of justice and order. Civilasation is the key factor for keeping society alive. If they'd end up fearing each other more than the undead ones, the world is done.

As the sun went down and most of the groupmembers began heading to their bunks, Margo carefully slipped out the keys from underneath the small pillow, glancing around the room to see if anyone was guarding the block. When the coast was clear she unlocked the door, cringing at the loud rattling of the keys turning inside the lock. She didn't know what they were gonna do to her if they'd spot her escaping. But it wasn't gonna be good, that was for sure. Margo moved like a cat whilst hunting, her feet smoothly moving over the concrete, her ears pricked, listening to the calm breaths of the sleeping people. If someone would wake up, she'd hear it in an instant.

Her outstanding instincts already existed way before the apocalypse started. There was this cute little girl with her blond hair and shiny blue eyes running helplessly through the city as she was overstrained by all the noise flooding into her head. She would press her palms onto her ears, shaking her head. People, cars, bikes, music, dogs, rivers, just shut up, shut up, please..oh please be quiet!

Reaching the front door, she laid her head against it, listening for anyone standing on the other side.