Instincts (Daryl Dixon FF)

s e v e n

[Season 4, before Internment]

No P.o.V.

Margo slowly teared of her clothes, hissing, when some of the fabric, which was grown together with the cuts and scratches littering her body remained stuck. With quick, harsh tugs she ripped it apart, reopening her wounds, blood dripping down the bruised skin. Her once beautiful figure looked wrecked, the fat reserves of her breasts and butt gone, instead her left over muscles displayed in form of a defined biceps and abs. The bones of her hips stood out like small horns, between them a wild and unshaved mess of dark pubic hair. Margo sighed, a short time ago she actually thought of herself as a pretty attractive woman but now there only was this sick looking, damaged person. She stepped out of her pants and threw them on the pile of clothing behind her. The cold tiles tickled the soles of her feet, as she stepped around the small tray towards the showers. Margo hadn't had a shower in what? Months? Years? The water felt unbelievably good, washing of at least part of all the memories that were burned into her head, leaving her with a faint of comfort. She even found an old raiser, it looked shabby and used but that didn't matter, nowadays you couldn't have high standards like that anymore, even if you wanted to, what she did.

After George had unpacked some things out of his blue rucksack he walked over into the next cell, sitting down next to Nico on the bed. "You'll go shower next, alright?", he asked, putting one of his big hands on Nico's shoulder. His frame was so small and fragile, with his 15 years he still hadn't reached the 5'2 feet of his older sister. Before the elder men could leave again, Nico decided to ask him the question which hadn't left his mind for the last few weeks, "George, you think there's still a chance to find them?". "I-", he stroked his face with his hand, "I don't think so but maybe, who knows". Nico nodded and was about to say something else but before he could take a breath, Rick stuck his head into their cell. "George, come with me", he demanded, friendly motioning his hand to the staircase.

Together they walked through the prison, George observing the corridors whilst Rick lead him through the confusing system. He had an excellent sense of direction, his mind instantly building a map of the prison. "I'm bringing you to the quaratine, Hershel'll show you the rest", Rick explained.

Margo came back into the cell, hair rinsed clean and her skin white like it used to be. Her brother sat on the old mattress, clothes  and a towel on his lap as he waited for the showers to be free. "Where's Dad?", she asked, her voice anxiously quivering. After supervising the remains of her family for the past few months, a change in their structure, someone missing, meant danger. "Rick took him with him", he answered, "Where to?", she hastily asked, fingers digging into the small boy's upper arm, the uncut nails leaving small indents. "Margo it's a'right, he's just showing George his tasks", Nico tried to calm her but it upset the blonde even more, her eyes glistened with irritation, her body was tense. "What's gotten into you two? We don't trust people, remember? But no, out of the sudden you two just throw over our rules. Did you forget what happened? ", she snapped at him, waving her arms in disapproval. Nico crossed his legs and watched her babble on until she finally stopped, taking a deep breath to refill her lungs with fresh air. "Look, I know what you've done for us the past few years, without you we'd be dead already but Margo, we ain't gonna make in much longer the way we did. Please, you have to trust them, just once", he pleaded, staring at her with his big blue eyes. His sister didn't respond, she just angrily walked out of the room, stormed down the small metal staircase before grabbing a machine gun and leaving the cell block.

It bothered Margo, her decisions had always been accepted because her instincts were always right, but now, she started to loose control of her pack and it made her hella terrified. The responsibility is been taken away from her and without that weight resting heavily on her shoulders she felt like she would float away. Helpless, not able to fight. Helpless, not able to flee. Helpless because Margo couldn't just leave without them and she knew that they were stubborn enough to get her to stay.

"What're you doing out here?", Rick's footsteps crunched in the gravel as he approached the new women sitting at the fence, observing the walkers. She didn't answer, because he already knew it. "I figured since you seem to be pretty..experienced with the whole situation out there, how 'bout you go on a run tomorrow, gattering some supplies n' stuff?", he asked, observing the fence and the large wooden posts they had stemmed against to keep it from collapsing. Margo let out a small scoff, getting up from her spot. She grabbed the finger of a rotten arm squeezing through the metal, letting the walker snarl even louder. Without hesitation she twisted her arm, ripping the finger off of the dirty zombie hand. Some blood splattered on her grey shirt, leaving little dots on the freshly washed frabic. She turned around, pouched the stinky peace of meat into Rick's shirt pocket. Then her fingers patted his chest, "No thanks, m' good", before walking away, the gun remaining next to the leader on the ground. 

Margo had spent the next few hours with searching the dagger Daryl had taken away from her and making plans on how they could escape the prison. She had lost track of time and soon enough, people seemed to gather in the cell block. Everyone was talking, discussing and laughing, overfilling her mind with sounds. "Everybody, get lunch", someone shouted. Nico stormed out of the cell, passing Margo, who sat right next to the opened door, supervising. He didn't have any doubts about this whole thing. Even when her Dad came out of the beton room, he just gave his daughter a small look, before walking down the staircase. Margo sighed and got up, her feet felt heavy, unable to move but she managed to lurk down the metal steps anyways, her hands gripping the railing to stabelize herself. 

Carol and Beth were dispensing some kind of stew, a long queue of people building in front of the table where they had placed the large pot. A few were aleady sitting, happily spooning the brown mix, talking to each other. Margo squirmed, she felt anxious around many people, especially whilst eating and not knowing the people and if they were trustworthy made it only worse. 

When Margo's parents got divorced after her seventh birthday, she started to get panic attacks. At first she never really knew why but when time went on, she noticed that it only happened with many people being around her, talking to her, interracting with her of any kind. With 14 she was diagnosed with social anxiety and BPD. Even though both of them are pretty serious diagnoses she always worried more about school and her A Levels than her mental health, which might, well probably, has been a fault. 

She lined up, patiently waiting for it to be her turn. Her brother and father just got their steaming bowls, walking over to the table to sit down next to Carl and Michonne. The brown haired boy was still a bit younger than Nico but they instantly started to talk and seemed to get along pretty well. Also George, who normally was pretty quiet, was chatting with Hershel next to him, happily smiling and laughing with the group.

"Here", Beth smiled, shaking Margo out of her thoughts. She was holding out an old china soup dish in her small, neat hands, her lips formed into a friendly smile. There were some strands hanging from her ponytail, slighty curled at the end, conturing her face. She was as beautiful as her older sister Maggie and way too cute to be imagined as a girl who kills walkers on a regular basis. Margo took the bowl from her hands, cracking a small smile. She grabbed a spoon out of the box on the counter. Her father was giving her an accusing glance, clearly not happy about her attitude towards their savers. 

Margo had eaten the soup in her cell, placing the bowl onto the ground when she was finished. Her stomach felt weird, not used to that amount of food and the silence in which she was able to eat it made her feel tired, eyelids heavy with the lack of sleep.