Survive | Daryl Dixon ¹

𝐥𝐢. 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬

Then, a raucous cackle echoed from behind the reunited couple, and there stood a man with a weathered, elongated face. Instead of a right arm, he sported a menacing mechanical appendage crowned with a wicked blade.

The Lancaster woman swallowed uneasily as the man approached them, arms outstretched. "How 'bout a hug from your new pal, Merle?" He exclaimed.

Astrid frowned, not comprehending the situation, but the name struck her with a jolt of recognition. Merle. It was Daryl's older brother, the one who had taken him away from her. Her gaze narrowed as she glared at him, and Merle responded with a sly wink before Daryl stepped between them. "Shut up," He snapped at his brother.

"I'm just tryin' to make friends," Merle countered with a grin.

"You ain't capable of makin' friends."

The two brothers continued to exchange hostile words, leaving Astrid awkwardly standing at Daryl's side. But then, movement to her left caught her attention. Rick was approaching them, his demeanor tense. "We need to get inside," He declared, scanning their surroundings nervously.

Reality crashed back down on her, and Astrid remembered that they had just faced an attack moments ago. She nodded in agreement, turning her gaze to the yard, now overrun with walkers. The Governor would pay for this, she vowed silently. She did not know when or how, but it was inevitable. This man would not be allowed to live.

After moving Axel's lifeless body, they hurriedly made their way toward the cell block and darted inside. However, before anyone could enter the cell room, Rick and Daryl took precautions to ensure that Merle had no weapons. They locked him away from the group, mirroring the action Carl and she had taken with Tyreese's group only days before.

Momentary thoughts of Tyreese and his group surfaced, and Astrid wondered briefly about their fate. Had they survived? After Rick's outburst, they were forced to part ways, and they had not seen them since. The likelihood of a reunion seemed bleak.

With Merle now safely locked away, they congregated in the cell room, grappling with the uncertainties that loomed ahead. While Rick charted his plan, Astrid gravitated toward her cell to recoup, her hunter following in her wake. She climbed the metal stairs wearily and slumped onto the mattress, Daryl framed by the doorway, his gaze scanning the cell.

"Where the hell's my stuff?" He asked, bewildered.

Astrid's eyes widened, and she emitted a nervous laugh, her hands fumbling in her lap. "I . . . um . . . I kind of threw it all out," She admitted.

Daryl stared at her, a mixture of surprise and amusement dancing across his otherwise guarded expression. "Damn," He hummed, a breathy chuckle escaping his lips. "Been gone one day, and she's already moved on."

Astrid rolled her eyes, and Daryl settled down beside her, his bare arm brushing hers. "In my defense," She began softly, "I thought I'd never see you again. I couldn't bear having your things in here. It would have been a constant reminder to me that you weren't coming back."

Daryl's face fell as he regarded her. "I'm sorry," He apologized once more. "I should've never done that to you. I was just angry, you know? I didn't realize how wrong I was until I'd left, and it was too late to turn back. Rick and them were already gone."

Astrid found that she had no response to give. Sometimes, silence held more meaning than words ever could. So, they sat there, side by side, in shared silence, savoring the precious moment they had been given together. It was entirely a miracle. Earlier that day, the Lancaster woman had awakened in her tiny cell, bracing herself for the notion that she would spend another night alone. But now, as she looked at Daryl, and he back at her, gratitude washed over her in waves. His return was a gift she would treasure above all else.