Chasing Amy (Daryl Dixon/The Walking Dead)

Chapter 59 - Speechless

The silence that followed Daryl's departure was long and uncomfortable. Nobody seemed to want to acknowledge the tension that Daryl had left behind, so we each just remained in a tired huddle, listening to only the scrapes of spoons on porcelain.

My eyes were hooded and my body still weak, but I had enough sense to realise that Daryl had pretty much returned to hating me, exactly when I needed him the most. After all, he was the one who found me, apparently...

Did I do something wrong in the process of being found? Did I say something bad in my haze? I simply couldn't comprehend his sudden change in mood, even though at this stage I should've become used to it.

"So, Amy, how's the fresh open air?" Glenn asked quietly, sensing my dismay.

"Nice and prison-y..." I breathed lowly. "And much less claustrophobic than that dark room."

"Honestly," Glenn quipped, "I'm surprised you didn't go Hulk on Rick when you escaped this time."

I cringed and stared at the food that was currently making my body feel bloated after two bites.

Maggie snorted.

"Can we never talk about that again?" I whispered hoarsely, "Like ever?"

Glenn paused, grinning across at me.

His cheeriness was a mask, the deep bags under his eyes presenting me with a face that looked to be exhausted and hollow.

"Probably not..." He said, "Y'know, it still haunts my nightmares, you reminded me of the typical innocent looking kid in the horror movies, y'know, the one who ends up massacring the village."

This earned quite a few laughs, each one scattered from around the room.

And then, the sound of a door slamming.

Immediately all eyes fell upon the door, not noticing the silent footsteps as they made their way back up the platform.

"Daryl." Murmured Carl, nodding to where his crossbow remained on his now empty mattress.

It never ceased to amaze me, how well he could go unnoticed when he put his mind to it. And while it amazed me, I still couldn't shake the feeling of resentment that built inside my chest...

Why was he avoiding me?

From the moment I awoke from my sleep, he'd cold-shouldered me... after faded images of a long and teary hug, I couldn't help but feel maybe what we'd shared in the tombs was some stupid dream.

I sighed, my breath catching a little in my sore throat. While every part of me wanted to maintain the "I don't need you" facade, I was continuously debating whether I should chase after him and question his sour mood.

Instead, I stood shakily to my feet, wobbling back to my cell without so much as a parting glance to the others.

I realised then how dramatic that scene would've looked to them, and cringed as I settled my body back onto the mattress. If truth be told, every word that left my mouth was a bit too much effort at this point... I just needed sleep.

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Daryl couldn't stop the tremor in his chest. He knew, he knew he needed to get a grip on his emotions, but somehow watching Amy struggle to be up and about, less than ten hours after being holed up in a room for four days... It didn't sit right with him.