Stray // Daryl Dixon

Scar Tissue

I felt like I was going insane, my body was so tired but the adrenaline surging through my body kept me awake, and alert. At this point, I couldn't tell how long they had kept me in this room. The stone walls entrapping me turned into a brown blurred smudge the more I stared at them. They kept us in rooms close to each other to only traumatize us further. I could hear Merle beating Glenn as he refused to give up any information about our camp's whereabouts. Next was Maggie, I listened as a different man's voice questioned her, it was more assertive than Merle's like he was superior to anyone below him.

My head was held low in defeat, thinking back to that stupid comment I made on our run. Today something good should happen. How naive of me to think we deserve something good, there was nothing good left in this world.

I kept my mind busy thinking about how far the apple fell from the tree when it came to Merle and Daryl. How he could do this to his own brother's people? I understood why Glenn was so persistent in making sure Merle got nowhere near the prison.

My head shot up when I realized there was another person in the room with me. A man looking to be in his mid-forties stared down at me, his posture immaculate, making himself appear taller than he was. His hair was greying but it was combed perfectly to the side and his face was freshly shaved, he was well put together like he took the time on his image. He walked over to me, pulling out a knife from his belt. My bottom lip quivered as he approached my chair. Then he did something unexpected, cutting off the duct tape around my wrists. I rubbed the sore skin around them.

"May I?" He asked, motioning to the chair on the other end of the table. I crossed my arms over my body and nodded. "Thank you. We'll take you back to your people, explain this was all just a misunderstanding. You tell us where they are and we'll drive you there." He said, his Southern accent made him sound calm and understanding, but I could tell he was an authoritative person around here. He was the one calling the shots. He had to be this so-called Governor.

"I wanna talk to Glenn and Maggie," I responded, disregarding his negotiation.

He shrugged, "I can't allow that. You people are dangerous. Handcuffed my man to a roof, forced him to amputate his own hand," he explained, referring to what I assumed to be Merle.

"I don't know anything about that."

"You just tell us where they are and we'll bring them here. You'll be safe, I promise," he tried to convince me. I looked away from him, not believing a word he said. "No? Fine. Let's try something else. Stand up, please." He ordered me. I refused to listen, still not making eye contact with him. "Stand up," he now said with a more aggressive tone. I looked back at him, staring him down like neither of us wanted to give up the power. But, he did have the power, he had all of it.  He narrowed his eyes at me and nodded his head, telling me to hurry up. Reluctantly, I finally stood up from my chair.

He pushed his chair back, walking over to where I stood. I tried to keep myself from crying, choking on my breath to keep the tears back. He pressed his chest up against my side, I could smell his cologne like I was wearing it myself. He reached his hand up, brushing away a piece of my hair as he hovered his face close to mine.

"Scar is your name, right?" He whispered. My heart raced as he touched me, but I still didn't answer him. He sighed before grasping down hard on the back of my neck, his fingernails digging into the skin. With all of his strength, he shoved his forearm forward, slamming the upper half of my body down on the table. "So, are you gonna talk?" He asked, once again pulling out his knife and hovering it next to my face.

"You can do whatever you're gonna do. And fuck off. I'm not talking."

He pressed the tip of the knife to the corner of my left eye, directly between the crease and the bridge of my nose. I shut them tight from the pain of the blade already cutting my skin. "The name Scar must stand for something. Do you have any?" He asked, dragging the blade down my cheek. I screamed out in agony as the blood pooled on the table. "You do now," he said, finally stopping once he reached the bottom of my jaw. He released his hand from the back of my neck, achieving his goal for now. Yet, no matter how much pain I was in I knew he still didn't achieve his end goal. I still kept some of the power. He wasn't getting any answers out of me. 

I sat back up as he walked towards the door, placing my hand on my face to try and stop the blood, I could feel it quickly soaking between the webs of my fingers. My head was spinning and the tears finally rushed out of me as I stared down at the blood that coated my hand and streamed down my arm.

"L, grab her," he called out to one of his men as he left the room. As soon as he was out of sight I ripped the sleeve off of my shirt, holding the fabric to my skin.

"Scarlett?" The man asked, his voice quivering.

I looked up, I thought I was imagining it, "Lincoln? You're alive?" A gasp escaped my lips, upon my brother standing before me. 

"Scar, what are you doing here? What did they do to you?" My brother asked. He ran over to me, holding my face in his hands.

"How--how did you get here? You were called for a mission."

"There's no time to talk right now," he spoke quickly and quietly. "I'm going to get you out of here. I just need you to act like you don't know me. I'll come back for you, I promise." He said, wrapping me in a tight hug. I nodded my head. "Come one."

I felt like I was still imagining it like Lincoln wasn't actually here with me. I was in trouble and I was conceptualizing that my brother had come to my rescue. I looked up at him as he guided me down the hall, it was definitely him, he was here. His dirty blonde air had been longer than I remember, but those blue eyes were unforgettable, just like Roy's. Lincoln led me into the room where they held Glenn, grabbing me by the arm and holding me tight. I walked in to find Glenn bloodied up with a swollen face. The Governor held onto Maggie as she covered her naked upper body with her arms.

"We're through with games." The Governor said, raising his pistol to Maggie's head. "Now one of you is gonna give up your camp," he stared at Glenn, clicking off the safety. Glenn remained silent which caused the Governor to walk up and aim the pistol at Glenn's forehead.

"The prison!" Maggie finally yelled, caving.

"The one near Nunez?" Merle asked.

"That place is overrun," the Governor stated.

"We took it," I said.

"How many are you?"

"Ten. We have ten now," Maggie answered.

"Ten people cleared that whole prison of biters? Huh?" The Governor asked. He seemed skeptical, but there was also some fear in his tone. Scared of how powerful we could be if we were able to accomplish that ourselves. We were a threat to him. He then laughed, covering up his fear, and lowering his gun from Glenn's head. "Come on, we're done here."

He turned and was the first to walk out of the room. Lincoln was the last to leave. I looked back at my brother as he released my arm. He stood in the door frame, holding on to the handle as he got one last look at me.

"Be ready," he mouthed, before shutting the door behind him.