𝐏𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐔𝐌 (𝐷𝑎𝑟𝑦𝑙 𝐷𝑖𝑥𝑜𝑛)

𝑇ℎ𝑖𝑟𝑡𝑦 𝑇𝑤𝑜

I stood in front of the rustic sink in the spare bathroom, wearing nothing but the soft towel that I found hanging next to the shower. I turned my body so that the side of my arm was facing the mirror and inspected the bruise that I had awoken to that morning. It was the kind of bruise that I had seen on my mother once or twice whenever her ex-boyfriend Ricky would come over.

Despite the opportunity to spend the night in a warm, comfortable bed, I barely slept. Most of my night was spent with my eyes wide open, staring at the creaky ceilding above. I was too afraid to let myself fall into the deep slumber that I felt my body craving, anxious about what nightmares my mind might've given me. I shook the thoughts from my mind and focused on getting ready, using my fingers to untangle my damp hair.

When I was finished in the bathroom, I stepped out wearing a loose flannel over my shirt with the sleeves folded up only to my elbow, hiding the remnant that Shane's hand left behind. A fresh bandage also covered the spot above my brow.

"They're back!" Lori's voice rang out from another room.

My head perked up and I made my way to the front of the house, just in time to see the women and Carl head out the door. I followed them outside, where Rick, Glenn, and Hershel stepped out of a red truck, both relief and fatigue visible on all three of their faces. Lori and Carl ran over to Rick while Maggie flew straight past her father to embrace Glenn.

I glanced off to the side and spotted Daryl standing by himself, his head already turned in my direction. I quickly looked away and began twisting the hem of my shirt around my fingers.

"Who the hell is that?!" T-Dog exclaimed from nearby and pointed to the inside of the truck.

I leaned closer for a better look and in the back seat, I could see a blindfolded man sitting unconscious with his head leaning back against the headrest.

"That's Randall," Glenn sighed defeatedly and turned away from Maggie before trudging back to his tent.

✯✯✯

"So you're just gonna let him go? He knows where we are," Shane spoke up, agitation weighing down his voice. 

"He was blindfolded the whole way here," Rick held his hand up and assured everyone.

I stood off to the side, glued to my own little corner away from everyone else. We were all gathered in the dining room of the farmhouse to discuss the man that Rick brought back from his venture into town.

"He's not a threat," Rick continued, seeming uneasy with having Shane challenge him in front of the whole group.

The screen door suddenly opened, and I watched as Daryl quietly slipped into the room. A nervous jolt fluttered in my stomach as he caught my gaze. His eyes searched my face for a moment before glancing over to an empty spot on the wall next to me.

"Not a threat? How many of them were there?" Shane scoffed. "You killed three of their men, took one of them hostage, and they just ain't gonna come looking?"

At the sound of Shane's voice, a small scowl spread across Daryl's face. Without hesitation, he came over and stood beside me. His shoulder slightly grazed mine, except this time, he didn't move away.

"They left him for dead, no one is looking!" Rick pressed.

"We should still post a guard," T-Dog cautioned from his end at the dining table.

"He's out cold right now, will be for hours," Hershel reassured him.

"You know what? I'm gonna go get him some flowers and candy," Shane said a mocking enthusiasm. "Look at this folks, we're back in fantasy land!"

As Shane left his post by the window, I felt Daryl stand up taller next to me. I kept my eyes trained on the floor and watched Shane's boots pass us by.

"You know, we haven't even dealt with what you did in my barn yet!" Hershel hollered at Shane as he walked into another room.

I inhaled sharply as Daryl nudged my arm in the same spot that my bruise was. I bit my lip to control my expression before turning my head to look up at him.

"You good?" He said to me quietly. His eyes somehow looked even more blue when he was indoors, probably due to the fact that whenever he was outside he would squint as if he needed glasses.

"Yeah," I nodded back and offered him a tiny smile. He held my gaze for a moment longer, as if he were trying to deduce if I were lying or telling the truth, before looking away once more.

Once the meeting was called to an end, everyone dispersed and went their own way. I left my place on the wall and was about to head back to my tent when I felt Daryl's hand gently rest on my elbow. I turned my head to see him reach into his back pocket and pull out a knife tucked away inside a worn out leather sheath.

"Here," Daryl held out the knife to me. I took the knife in my hands and examined it up close, finding two initials etched into a spot at the front of the sheath.

D.D.

"This is yours?" I looked up at him and found his gaze resting on my hands. He nodded and let his eyes dart off to another corner of the room.

"What about you? I can't just take your knife," I held the blade back out with the hilt facing him.

"Nah, just keep it," he waved off my concern. "I got more." Daryl placed his hand on top of mine and softly pushed it away. Before I could say anything else, he left my side and disappeared out the front door.

✯✯✯

(𝑷𝒖𝒃𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒉𝒆𝒅 𝒐𝒏 10/18/20)