After the Storm

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"There will come a time, you'll see, with no more tears."

I felt guilty. I felt guilty and selfish for the shit I just pulled. Did I do that for Daryl or for me? How could I leave him like that? I manipulated his dream. The last thing he could ever hold on to from me. That was how I said goodbye.

He laid in bed for a while after he woke up. He clearly thought about it, about what we did and what I said. I wish I could hear what he was thinking. I wonder if he caught on to the fact that that was how I let go. His aura, though sad, was more peaceful now. I'm glad he found more peace in my goodbye than I did. I hated everything about this. I want him but I can never have him again. This is the fate we have to live with now.

Much to my surprise, Daryl left the room today. It took him a while, but he did. He even left the house. I was proud of him. I wished I could tell him that. Instead, I stayed in our room, sitting on the floor in the corner as I sobbed, my knees to my chest and head resting against the wall. Guilty, hateful tears left me and there was nothing I could do. At least I know that I drove it into his head that I love him. At this point, that's all I could ask for.

After some time, the tears slowed to a few drops every few minutes. The long bouts of crying came and went, but the hurt stayed all the same. The window was open. I could hear everyone out working in the lively streets of Alexandria. I heard some voices I recognized, those of my friends. I couldn't hear what they were saying, but I heard their voices. The curtain on the window flowed with the occasional blow of wind. I stared off into nothingness, the guilt and remorse making my head pound.

"Hey there, Sarge."

I looked up at the open door. Abraham was stood in the frame, leaning his arm against the wood. The corner of my mouth turned up at my nickname from him, remembering how he picked it by saying I was the strongest person he'd ever met. I wiped the tears from my cheeks and sat up a bit straighter.

"Hey, Big Red," I replied, my voice frail and stuffy.

Abraham came and sat next to me. He placed his arm around my shoulders, allowing me to rest my head on him. He was always protective of me, constantly acting like an older brother.

"I know it's hard adjusting to this," he sympathized, "but you got a lotta people here to help you through it." I nodded against him.

"I know."

"How'd it happen?" he asked rather quietly, the question seeming taboo.

"I was out with Daryl and got shot. We don't know who it was."

"Well, shit." Abraham was rather shocked by this. I mean, yeah, the whole ordeal was a huge shock but he was never really one to show that type of thing. Even in the moments before he met his gruesome end, he sat tall and showed no mercy. "Whoever did this has no idea who they're messin' with." I chuckled lightly.

"Yeah, I know."

"They're gonna eat their own ass before knowing it's their own ass." I laughed a bit harder at that one.

"Ew," I grimaced. We chuckled together for a moment before everything began to weigh down on me again. I frowned as I muttered, "I feel so guilty, Abraham."

"You know it's not your fault, Belle," he reassured me. I just shook my head.

"But I'm not okay with how I said goodbye. He took it better than I ever will."

"You have way more time to become at peace than he does. What's important is that you helped him find his. Now, you can figure out how to become comfortable here. We're here to help you, Sarge, you don't have to do this alone."

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