The Fallen (Daryl Dixon fanfiction)

Chapter 15

“Went through some shit you wouldn’t believe.”

“I’ve heard it all.”

“He barreled down our gate and released a truck full of walkers while his men tried to mow us down.”

“Wow!” “How did you all make it out of there?”

“We had help.” “Daryl had come back with his brother Merle,” she spat. “Racist schmuck had nowhere else to go, but with his brother, and that was with us.”

“I take it he wasn’t well liked.”

“That was an understatement,” she corrects.

~.~

“We’re not leaving.” The sheriff ensures. 

“We can’t stay here.” Hershel tries to reason.

“What if there’s another sniper? A wood pallet won’t stop one of those rounds.” Maggie reminds.

“We can’t even go outside,” Beth adds.

“Not in the daylight,” Carol speaks up.

“Rick says we’re not running, we’re not running.” Glenn defends.

“No, better to live like rats.” spat from his cell. He was being kept there for the time being.

“You got a better idea?” Rick snaps. 

“Yeah, we should have slid out of here last night and lived to fight another day. But we lost that window, didn’t we?” his lists. “I’m sure he’s got scouts on every road out of this place by now.”

“We ain’t scared of that prick.” Daryl paced from above.

“Y’all should be.” he corrects seriously.”That truck through the fence thing, that’s just him ringing the doorbell. We might have some thick walls to hide behind, but he’s got the guns and the numbers. And if he takes the high ground around this place, shoot, he could just starve us out if he wanted to.” he releases with no type of filter. Shaking up the already uneasy ground with everyone.

“Let’s put him in the other cell block.” Maggie shakes her head, not wanting to hear another word.

“No. He’s got a point.” Daryl objects.

“This is all you! You started this!” the brunette screamed.

“What difference, whose fault it is? What do we do?” Beth begged. Looking at the smirking man behind bars. Reese reaches out, taking the girl’s hand before she could get any closer.

“I said we should leave. We can’t just sit here.” Hershel lists, but Rick turns on his heel, walking out of the conversation. “Get back here!” the older man bellows. It was the first time anyone had heard him shout at such volume. Adjusting the grips of his crutches, he made his way over to their once-strong leader.

“You’re slipping, Rick. We’ve all seen it. We understand why. But now is not the time. You once said this isn’t a democracy. Now you have to own up to that. I put my family’s life in your hands. So get your head clear and do something.” The older man spoke sternly, but each word carried sympathy. The meeting was over as everyone parted ways for different parts of the prison.

“Might as well get dinner started,” she said, gathering her things. “Who wants to help?” she calls, seeing Beth, Carl, and Axel perk their heads toward her. “Let’s go.” She nods, leading the way.

“I-I-I could-” Daryl speaks up meekly.

“Literally anyone, but you,” she snaps, shoulder-checking past him to the mess hall.

“You’ve outdone yourself, Reese ma’am.” The redhead compliments taking another bite of “garbage” pizza. Something she made often with miscellaneous ingredients. Cauliflower crust, tomato sauce, black olives, peppers, and sausage balls from a can of spaghetti-os with meat.

“It’s very good.” Beth grins in agreement.

“Wish there was cheese.” Carl huffs. 

“I do too, kiddo,” she sighs. “But it’s better than nothing,” she reasons as the boy begrudgingly chipmunks another bit. The redhead suddenly looks up from his seat.

“What can I do for you, gentlemen?” Axel asks.

“This is a damn shame.” Merle scoffs. A shrill whistle sounds. “Hey, spicy nachos!” he cackles. “How bout you fix me and my brother ‘ere a little somethin’, somethin’?”

“You’re ‘bout an hour late. Looks like we’re all out.” She glances into the pan that only held crumbs. “Reese, can you show Axel slaps? He wants to play.” Carl speaks up. “Sure thing.” She nods, ignoring the Dixons altogether.

“You come back here, woman!” Merle shouts. “Better make me a grande burrito, Bronos nachos.”

“You can eat shit, maybe that was clean that filthy mouth of yours.” she spat taking a seat her seat at the table.

“WHAT YOU SAY TO ME!!!” he bellows being held back by Daryl’s arm.”Get off of me!” Merle growls, shoving his brother off him. “You’re pussy whipped boy.” he jabs a finger into the side of Daryl’s head pushing it to the side as the younger Dixon scowls back angrily. “One taste and look at cha.” he gestures. “I bet you cried,” he snickers. Face turning red from rage simmering just below the surface. “Pathetic!” he scoffs, brushing past his brother over to the table and glaring into Reese’s back. She refused to give him attention, continuing to deal and placing the remainder of the deck in the middle of the table. No one paid attention to the game anymore. All eyes were glued to the redneck standing over her. He sniffs, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand.

“You know how it is,” he shrugs. “Yellow, niggers, wetbacks, and redskins—” Before she could jam her knife into his throat, he was suddenly yanked back. Looking up, to see Daryl gripping his brother by his shirt and punching him in the face, sending him to the floor.

“You apologize! Right now!” he puffed, heavily pointing to Reese.

“You gon’ have to kill me brother.” he spits out blood. 

Going to hit him again. Reese jumps in the way, holding his arm that was winding up.

“It doesn’t matter.” she shakes her head.

“It does!” he corrects. “It does matter. It always mattered, and I’m making sure it does.”

“I see that,” she says, meeting his eyes. “I see that,” she repeats, holding his face to stay on hers and not his brother.

“C’mon.” Reese looks to the wide-eyed kids and Axle. “We can play slaps in my cell,” she says, gathering their things. Stepping over the beaten Dixon stopping to see Daryl hadn’t moved. “You too.” She gives the archer permission.

~.~

“On the day he died he told me to take care of his brother.” she shrugs. “I just took it as his brain short-circuiting or he actually found some smack.” she pulls at a thread of the couch. “He led a one-man army to take on the governor.” “He failed, of course. Daryl had to put him down.” She closes her eyes. Her heart broke for the archer. “Son of a bitch,” she gasps in realization. “I actually miss the bastard.”