Red ~ TWD (Daryl Dixon)

Show Me Justice

I poured myself into the effort to rebuild the bridge. Not so much because it was vital to our way of life, but because it distracted me from the oppressive cloud of mistrust and tension swirling between the communities.

Rick took every opportunity to preach forgiveness. Carl passionately advocated that every life mattered. Deadpool's charter demanded we all swallow the pain of the past in order to achieve peace for the future. It was a nice sentiment, and their hearts were in the right place. There was only one problem with their goal, it was easier said than done.

How did you let go when you had a constant reminder on your skin? Absentmindedly I stroked the slightly raised scars on my forearm, biting my lip. We pretended to put aside our difference, but the war still ragged inside our battered souls.

Beth was asked to feed the same people who beat her husband to death in front of her. The women of Oceanside had to endure living side-by-side with the Saviors who murdered their husbands, brothers, and sons. I was tasked with protecting the deviants who tortured me.

Was it possible? Sure, in theory.

Was it easy? Fuck. No.

Was there a high chance of failure? Without a doubt, yes.

The fact Saviors were still disappearing added fuel to an already combustible fire. Admittedly, I hadn't given the mystery my full attention. I feigned concern and brainstormed with the others when asked, but my heart wasn't in it. I was holding myself together with duct tape and dreams. Devoting time, effort, and energy to finding the missing Saviors was the proverbial straw that would break the camel's back.

I stood when I heard shouting in the distance, sweat dripping down my face and stinging my eyes. Merle dropped a stack of two by fours, brushing his dirty hands on his dirtier jeans.

"Sounds like somethin' wrong," he mused, using his hand to shield the sun from his eyes.

"There's always something wrong." I bent down, hammering a nail with more force than the task required.

"Carol might need help." Francine's voice was laced with worry for the new leader of The Sanctuary. The mention of my husband's bestie being in trouble was enough to get him moving.

"Come on Merle."

The brother's jogged away to investigate, but I kept working. I could feel my sister-in-law's gaze on my back and rolled my shoulders, hammering another nail.

"What's wrong?"

Retrieving another nail I positioned it on the board and swung the hammer. "Why does anything have to be wrong?"

She tsked like a disapproving mother. "Alex."

"Francine."

"Don't do that," she replied, hands on her hips. Trying to shake her off the subject was a fool's errand. The woman was married to Merle. She had the patience of a Saint and the tenacity of a pit-bull. It was the only way to survive in this family. "It's not like you to avoid a fight."

"Running in there and kicking someone's ass isn't really what I'd call a fight." I kept hammering because it was easier than facing Francine or myself. "Can you hand me more nails?"

She sighed but did as I asked. "Talk to me, please."

"There's nothing to talk about. The Saviors want weapons and we don't want to give them any. Someone's abducting people and killing them and we don't know who." I stopped hammering, looking her in the eye. "Everyone wants to pretend like what happened is water under the bridge, but it isn't. It probably won't ever be."