Dark Intentions│Daryl Dixon✔️

E L E V E N

Daryl drove with Carol's arms strapped around his waist. He dropped her off with the others and started the engine back up.

"Daryl! Whoa! Hold up!" Rick said.

"Wheres my daughter?" Hershel asked.

"She ran off into the woods. Got spooked." Daryl said, hating his damn delusion. He was a fool. Of course she wanted to leave. Of course she wanted to run—away from everyone. Why had he not held onto her tighter?! His hands began to shake.

Her hollow eyes. The dark circles under them. The sweat covering her body. The shaking it went through. Her pale face and the fact that her own goddamn mother....

Daryl swallowed.

She was out there alone. She was sick and dying. She'd known and she just....embraced it. Tears pricked his eyes. Angry tears. He ran a hand through his growing hair in agitation.

She'd blown him a kiss. One last moment between them. It signified everything. So close and so intimate and yet....so distant. Not a kiss on the lips that demanded sex. Not a kiss on the cheek that ended things for good but...a kiss that said 'Everything I haven't told you'. 'Everything I'll never say.'

Why? He asked himself why.

Why? Why, Callie?

He would find her. He would save her.

He didn't even consider the possibility that she was...

Gone.

Just Gone..

He wanted to feel her tucked into his side. Her ribs under his rough but gentle touch. He wanted her.

But she didn't want to be wanted. No.. that was wrong. She didn't want to feel owned. She didn't want to hurt and be hurt. She was safe by pushing people away and that was why Daryl needed her.

She saw him. She understood. She knew.

Scars on her, scars on him.

So long he'd denied affection. He fucked girls. He never made love but down by the river, feeling those upraised scars that marked Callie's beautiful body..

That was making love. Both breaths making clouds in front of them due to their hot breath and cold air mixed. Skin on skin, lips on lips, hand in hand. He'd never done that with anyone because it was so hard for him to feel other people. Their smooth skin, unmarked, without pain but Callie's body had been a story of her hurt. Just like his.

Gone.

He wished that he knew she were dead.

Gone.

Knowing someone was dead gave a person the chance to start moving forward but Callie was just...

Gone.

"I gotta find er'." Daryl said like a druggie searching for meth. His hands were frantic. Before people could protest, Daryl screeched his bike around and sped back to the farmhouse..

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"Callie?!" I shouted through the woods. He had been tracking her footsteps for hours. He was coming up on a drop off in the hill side. "Callie?!" He cupped his hands around his mouth and scouted her name out louder.

When he got to the edge, he looked down and fell to his knees.

She was dressed in all white as she blew him a kiss. An angel saying goodbye.

He blinked at her unmoving body, wrapped in barbed wire, bleeding. He stumbled down the hill. little did he know, mocking her previous moments. He fell to his knees beside her body, tears falling down his cheeks. His hands were so shaky that they looked blurred. He hovered them over her cold body. He lifted her to his chest, barbed wire still locked around her body.

The barbed tips pressed into his skin, tearing his shirt. Tears warmed her cold skin. He sobbed and sobbed over her.

Something broke in Daryl after he left her body that day. He went numb and cold all at once. He grew even more detached then he already was. He didn't even turn to look back at her.

She was gone.

She was gone.

She was gone.

It thumped along with his heartbeat. Over and over.

Gone.

⌥⌥⌥⌥⌥

Daryl didn't check for a heartbeat.

*The End*