𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐎𝐌 ➳ 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐥 𝐆𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬

Chapter 28 ~ Pictures of You, Pictures of Me

Dad and I walked for a long time. It was barely dawn when we had left and now it was afternoon. I gripped the cool metal of my gun tightly in my hand, keeping it aimed as we walked - just in case we found him. I hadn't been there when it happened but dad said it was a blond man named Dwight with a scarred face. Claimed he worked for Negan. But other than that, we knew nothing.

We'd find him though. For Denise. We'd avenge Denise. There was no way this-this scum was going free for what he did. And glancing up at my dad's stoic expression, I knew he felt the same. We stepped into a field just then, the grass knee-high around us as we tromped through it. Dad leaned down to check for tracks and I watched him.

"How do you know how to do that?" I asked him, tilting my head to the side in curiosity.

He smiled up at me briefly, "When I got lost in the woods that time, I had to learn to survive,"

Pointing to the north, he walked on ahead, mumbling 'that way' as he did. I followed behind him, lowering my gun to my side. My boots squished the grass down slightly as I walked on.

"Was that after your brother, Merle, left?" I pressed him, blowing back a strand of hair that had fallen in my face.

He grunted in response, still tracking. The crossbow lifted slightly as he aimed it towards the trees that surrounded the clearing.

"I never...I never got to ask you about him...what was he like?" I asked, coming to walk beside him.

I glanced over at him and noticed the slight hesitance in his gaze, like he didn't know if he should tell me or not.

"He...Merle was..." he shook his head then and sighed, "He wasn't the best brother in the world. Got in trouble a lot, got locked up in juvi more times than I can count..."

I frowned, taking in the information on the uncle I never got to meet.

"But...?" I asked, turning to face him.

He stopped dead in his tracks and turned to face me as well. There was pain in his eyes but something else too...

"But he was my brother...and I loved him..." he shrugged, clearly not wanting to have the chick-flick moment.

I smiled up at my dad, "I wish I could have met him. Sounds like he was fun,"

Daryl laughed, shaking his head, deep blue eyes shining.

"He always kept things interesting, that's for sure." he told me, grinning and I returned it.

I slipped my hands into my pockets then and frowned slightly when my fingertips brushed against something crumpled in one of my pockets. Digging it out, I let out a breath I didn't know I'd been holding until now. My eyes scanned the picture and tears threatened to seep out. I clamped a hand over my mouth to stifle a sob and Daryl's head snapped to me.

"What's wrong?" he asked immediately and I glanced up at him.

A sigh escaped my mouth and I mustered a smile.

"Ah, I think you should see this. I, um, these jeans were some I had carried with me since I got here - an old torn pair I just threw in a bag when I escaped the Wolves the first time around..." I explained, stepping up to him, "I didn't know I still had it with me..."

Gingerly, I held out the picture to him and I heard him suck in a sharp breath.

"M-Mandy?" he breathed out, eyes widening in shock.

I nodded, crying, "Yeah...it's mom..."

He stared down at the picture and I saw tears form in his blue eyes. So many different emotions flitted through his eyes then, it was hard to keep track. But one emotion was clear and never faltered - love. And not just 'I love you', 'I love you, too' love - this was unconditional love. Love that transcends...even after death. He let out a sob and he bit his lip.

"We took that a few days before the outbreak...before it got to us..." I told him, my voice soft and gentle.

He said nothing - he was at a loss for words. Reaching up, I put a hand on his shoulder and finally, his eyes lifted from the picture to meet mine.

"She never stopped loving you, dad...not ever." I said somberly, tears trickling down my cheeks.

He nodded, crying as well. Slowly, he handed me back the picture but I curled his hands back around it.

"You keep it...you deserve something of mom, too," I told him, sniffing slightly.

But he just shook his head at me indifferently.

"I already got something of her... I get to see her everyday this way." he said, his usually rough voice soft.

Glancing up into his eyes, I saw him watching me and smiled. Suddenly, we heard a twig break behind us and I stuffed the picture back into my pocket as Daryl held up his crossbow, shooting an arrow into a tree. Someone stepped out from behind the tree then and we frowned as we recognized the person immediately. Rosita.