Red ~ TWD (Daryl Dixon)

Next to Me

Our room for the evening used to be a classroom if the whiteboard on the wall was any indication. It was sparsely furnished with a small bed that was pushed against the far wall, a nightstand, and two chairs positioned in opposite corners. It definitely wasn't going to win any HGTV awards, but at least it wasn't a cell.  I was all about the silver lining these days.

Daryl was seated on the bed, shoulders hunched as he bit his thumbnail, long hair covering most of his face. He straightened when the door closed, rolling his shoulders, a sure sign he was on edge. I knew what was coming. I also knew neither of us was ready for it.

"Ezekiel's going to say no," I stated, sitting down on the edge of the bed next to him.

He grunted in response, giving nothing away. If he was surprised or angry by the declaration I couldn't tell. For a few minutes we sat in absolute silence, him deep in though and me dreading the next words out of his mouth. When he started talking it was so quiet I had to strain to hear him.

"I ain't a good man. I know that...but I spent my life tryin' to stay outta my father's shadow." I swallowed hard, eyes fixed on my hands sitting in my lap. This wasn't how I expected this to go. "Ain't never wanted to be like that sumbitch, but now...I got this feelin' inside me...I can't get rid of it no matter what I do."

He took a slow, deep breath like he was fighting the urge to unleash incredible violence. He was a dangerous man. It was in his DNA. He spent most of his time trying to combat his nature. If he gave into those feelings the world would burn by sunrise.

"I wanna kill 'em all. I wanna end their fuckin' lives with my bare hands. I wanna make 'em suffer. I don't give a rat's ass if it ends up getting' the whole group killed so long as I get to hunt 'em down like fuckin' dogs." I sucked in a ragged breath, my body shaking at his admission. "At the same time I wanna take ya and run, find a place for us to hide where that asshole can't never find us. I ain't thinkin' 'bout the group, what that would do to 'em. Yur all I care 'bout."

In all the years I'd known him this was the most I'd heard him speak in one sitting. He confided in me more than anyone, but even now, after all we'd been through, it was in short, clipped sentences where I inferred more than he actually said. Not this time. Right now, he was an open book. I saw every emotion on his haggard face, and felt every painful word like a physical blow.

"I look in yur eyes and all I see is pain." I slid my hand out of my lap, interlacing our fingers. He shuttered, his large fingers squeezing in return. "Yur pretendin' everythin' a'right, but it ain't. I can't sit here no more and watch ya like this and do nothin'."

He was right. I'd yet to confront what happened to me. The war, alliances, planning moves and countermoves; it was enough to keep me occupied while ignoring my demons and my pain. I was pretending like I was OK, and everyone was letting me because the alternative was something no one wanted to face, no one but Daryl. It wasn't that the group didn't care. It was simply that we had bigger problems.

"I need ya to know somethin'." I could feel his eyes on me and turned to face him. My lips trembled and his eyes softened, hand moving until it cupped my cheek tenderly. "Ya ain't the best part of my life. Ya are my life."

My chest shuttered, lips trembling as I opened my mouth to respond, but he shook his head.

"It ain't fair to ask ya, but I gotta know." His voice was low and gravely, and I rubbed my palms on my jeans, nervous energy making my body feel like a live wire. "All of it. I can't take not knowin'. I think...I think it's the only way I can stop myself from becomin' like him..."

He feared himself, what he could become, and I understood that. Our father's taught us the same lessons. Everything we knew about violence and abandonment stemmed from them. That was their legacy.