Hope Lost: A Daryl Dixon Story (The Walking Dead/ Bethyl )

25- Oblivion

It must have been close to noon when Daryl woke because the striking light left him in a dazed state. "Shit," He mumbled as he rubbed his eyes. He shot up and blinked a few times, gaining composure in the process. He slept in one of the farm house's spare rooms. It was a tiny room with a single bed, but Daryl didn't complain. The mattress was comfortable and after a month of residing in a tent, it was pure bliss. Daryl groaned as he stretched and let his legs slide out under the covers. Through the semi-open curtains Daryl spied Robin. His narrowed immediately as he watched her. She was talking to Tara and every so often she'd frown deeply and looked at the ground. Daryl swiftly slipped his feet into his boots and laced them with quick fingers. He stood up and groaned once again while stretching. He left the room with the bed unmade and the door wide open.

When Daryl got outside, Robin and Tara stood on the same spot still talking in hushed voices. The others from the group, Sasha, Maggie, Bob and the rest went on with their business without paying them much attention. The thought briefly crossed Daryl's mind that they would always be treated as outsiders. He silently walked over to them and caught a snippet of what Robin was saying, "It's just that he's so distant of late. I never knew him to be this...this hostile, ya know? And he's moods, good Lord, they startin' to scare me. One minute he's the Ted I know, and the next he's lost in his own world from which he seems to never want to-" Robin's speaking ceased as her eyes flickered from Tara to Daryl.

Daryl raised his eyebrows at her. For a brief second Daryl had wondered if she was talking about him until she mentioned Ted's name. Daryl had almost forgotten about Ted, which was good, because if Ted had the audacity to wander around camp like everything was forgiven and forgotten he would be gravely mistaken. Daryl would never forget and he was just waiting for the right time to air his opinion, verbally and physically, that is.

"Afternoon, Daryl." Robin smiled, but it never reached her eyes.

"Afternoon" He replied.

"Fine day, ain't it." She said sweetly.

Daryl didn't bother to reply. Instead his gaze was fixed upon Tara, who in turn was staring ahead at which Daryl presumed was Ted's tent. Ted, Bob and Sasha were the only ones to sleep outside in tents. They pitched them under a tree. Sasha insisted that her and Bob sleep outside to double as watch guards -over Ted and for Walkers. In actual fact, Daryl hadn't seen Ted once since the day of Glenn's death. It was sort of strange. He wondered what about Ted was bothering Robin so much.

"C'mon Daryl, let's take us a walk." Robin said, snapping Daryl out of his thoughts.

Daryl gazed impassively at her.

She walked forward and her fingers tightened around Daryl's bicep. Robin noted that he didn't flinch at her touch. They'd had a short moment again in the field a few days ago, but of course Daryl had slipped back into his comfort zone and hadn't even glanced at her since.

"I'll talk to ya later, Tara." Robin called over her shoulder as her and Daryl walked. Daryl was headed into the general direction of the forest.

"No, this way." Robin said as she pressed her body into him, forcing him to change direction. Daryl silently obeyed -it was her idea anyway. They were now headed to the stables and the area where the animals used to be kept. Daryl wondered if this was a good idea. There wouldn't be much left of the animals except rotted guts and broken bones. But just before they reached it, Robin detoured again and headed for another huge tree. She sat down cross legged and patted the ground next to her.

"I thought we were going for a walk." He said.

"We did." She blinked and patted the ground again.