The Woman at The End of The World. (Daryl Dixon)

twentyfive.

"I'm glad to have you back at least. I worry about you, Mich."

"I know. You're dealing with it a lot better than before." She smiles, but I notice that it doesn't reach her eyes.

I frown, "not as well as I like to think. I still have nightmares. I can't seem to stop moving."

After that, we used my anxious energy to silently train for a few hours. By the end, she informs me that I'm getting better.

—

The sound of a gun going off pulls me from lookout, and into the prison. I spot Merle and Glenn on the floor with Beth holding a gun pointing into the air. Realization dawning on me. Swearing, I drag Merle off of Glenn.

"Guard tower, now." I bark at the eldest Dixon. "You're with me so I can keep an eye on your ass."

He scowls, not liking that yet again I'm bossing him around. "My brother - "

"Your brother can take care of himself. If Phillip decides to get feisty and wants to try and liven up the meeting, he should fear for himself. Daryl's fine." I growl. "Now move!"

I follow him until we make it into the guard tower. I watch him as he sits on the ground with the wall to his back. His eyes find me. I scoff, ignoring him. I lean against the railing, looking out into the yard.

"Even fighin' with my baby brother, you still speak highly of him." He points out, grinning like the Cheshire cat.

I roll my eyes, "I'm mad, but I'm not stupid and I have eyes. He's a survivor. He's a mean son of a bitch when cornered."

"Just like ya; two peas in pod." He chuckles, amusement dancing in his eyes.

"Shut up." I groan, "you're fucking annoying. I should've shot you."

—

"Hey, wanna try holding Judith?" Carol found me in my cell, trying to find a moment of silence. I still struggle being cooped up with people constantly, day in and day out. The life of an introvert and all.

I sat up, frowning. "I don't know."

"You've been eyeing her; c'mon." She sat next to me, handing over the sweet baby.

"Carol." I warn. Not wanting to hear it, she all, but throws her at me. "Okay, I guess I'm doing this." I looked down at the little girl in my arms. "Oh." I mummer, feeling the tears build behind my eyes. "I never got to hold Luna."

"It's okay, honey." Carol rubs my back. "She likes you."

I watch as Judith smiles and coos at me. "Hi baby." I whisper. "Aren't you the prettiest little thing? I can see why Uncle Daryl calls you little ass kicker. You're going to be taking names once you're up creating mischief." I find myself grinning back at the littlest Grimes. Her little hands find my lip piercings. I wince at the tiny pull. "I know, I got shinnies in my face, huh?"

"You'd be a good mom." Daryl's voice brings my attention to him standing in the doorway, with his arms crossed.

I sob at his words. "Daryl, shoo!" Carol motions for him to go. He nods after taking in my stressed deposition, stalking away from us.

"I can't have kids. Owen took that from me." I breathe out. For the first time since it happened, I told Carol. She's the only person in this group I shared the gory details with. Sans Kelly and Charlee who were there for the downfall. With her having a similar history to my own, I felt safe enough to share that trauma. "I buried my own child, not knowing she'd be my one and only. Kelly and I tried. But it's just not in the cards for me."