Just Keep Walking

Seventy eight

For the next two days, the only consistency, the only comfort Mary had was Alden, as he brought her three small meals each day. It was painful, and she slowly stopped speaking, the only time when anyone was able to get any words out of her when Alden bribed her with stolen candy.
"When can I see my daddy?" She asked one night when he brought her dinner, her eyes half closed with tiredness; she rarely slept.
"Soon." Alden sighed. If it was up to him, the little girl would have never come to the Sanctuary. If he had a say, she'd be in her own bed, her father and brother by her side. If he thought it was possible, he'd have ran away with her days ago, and took her home.
"I want him now."
"I know. Have you been sleeping?"
"No."
"Kid, you gotta sleep." Alden sighed, and Mary's face screwed up sadly. "Tell you what... I'll see what I can do," he promised, "I'll be right back."
Alden took a deep breath in, and left, locking the door behind him, then he walked over to Dwight. He was disposable, just a worker, but he had to try, for Mary.
"Excuse me? Excuse me, Dwight, but I... I gotta suggest somethin'." Alden asked shakily.
"What?" Dwight snapped.
"The girl. Maisie." Alden began, getting the name wrong. Pretending he didn't care. It was the best way.
"Mary."
"Mary. She... She's gonna get sick, sir. She's not sleepin', not eatin', barely talkin'. She's gettin' depressed. Her best friend died. She doesn't understand what's happenin'."
"Get to the point."
"Can Daryl and the girl have some time together? Please. She... She can't handle it, and he's been good. 'T'll give him a bit of incentive. He'll do what you want, if you let them be together."
"That, that's logical. That could work. Hey. What's your name?"
"Al."
"Al. Al, you go throw her in with him. Take her food too. That, that's extra points."
"Thank you. You won't regret it."
"Go." Dwight snapped, and Alden nodded. He went to Mary's cell, and opened it, then held his hand out to Mary.
"Come on sweetheart. I can't get you to your daddy, but I can get you to your friend. Uncle? Come on, take your food."
Mary nodded, and took Alden's hand. He took her food and bunny, and walked her to Daryl's cell, her bare feet slapping the ground; they'd taken her boots.
When Daryl's cell door was opened, Mary began to cry softly. They'd made his room dark, and it was so hot, so so hot - her room was air conditioned. But the thing that scared her the most, upset her the most, was Daryl himself. He was cowered in a corner, and she could see how jumpy and scared he was, covered in sweat, and smelling horrific.
It didn't resemble him, and it was almost as distressing as her seeing Rick beg and sob to Negan a few days earlier. Almost.
"Uncle Daryl?" Mary whispered shakily, and Daryl's sweat-glistened face twitched to her direction.
"M-M-Mar-Mary? Mary." Daryl croaked, crying slightly.
"Uncle Daryl," Mary sobbed, running into his arms despite the fact that he stank and was covered in sweat, "I thought they'd killed you. I thought you was dead."
"N-no. Do-don't y-y-you worry." Daryl stuttered. He was still flinching, still jumpy and scared, but calmer in Marys presence.
"Alright. Okay, they said she can stay here tonight. I'll leave the light on. She doesn't like the dark." Alden smiled softly.
"Th-thanks." Daryl mumbled, before Alden left, locking the door behind him. As soon as he left, Mary nestled into Daryl's chest and sobbed, the man flinching slightly, but still keeping ahold of her.
"Mary," Daryl croaked, "Are you Okay?" Mary didn't answer, and he spoke up again, firmer. "Mary. Are you okay?"
"Yeah." Mary nodded slowly.
"No one's hurt you, have they?"
"No."
"No one..." Daryl began, hesitant and awkward, not knowing how to phrase his important question, "No ones touched yer, have they? Hurt you, at all? At all. Even if ya was told not to tell anyone, yer gotta tell me. Yer not in trouble."
"No. Well, they pushed me a bit." Mary whispered.
Daryl nodded, thankful she hadn't been beaten, or worse.
"Where's your clothes?" Mary asked, looking at the strange outfit Daryl was wearing, "Those are pyjamas."
"Negan made me. Has he been giving you food?"
"Yeah. Uncle Daryl, I miss daddy."
"I know you do. You'll see him soon."
"I want him now."
"I know. I know."
"And my Carl and Judy and Maggie and Glenny." Mary cried, then she went silent. "He killed my Glenn. I love Glenny."
"I know. I know, sweetheart. I know." Daryl soothed, a tear falling down his cheek.
"Why hasn't daddy come and found us yet?" Mary whispered, and Daryl's heart broke.
"He doesn't know where we are. He has no idea. But you know your daddy. He'll be trying."
"I know." Mary whispered, but she wasn't sure anymore. She looked up at him with sad eyes, then breathed out. "I'm still sad. I'm going to be sad forever, because my Glenny is dead. And you got him killed. It was your fault. But you didn't kill him. You didn't do it. Negan did. Megan did it. He's the reason he's dead, because he did it, not you."
"Thank you." Daryl whispered shakily, and Mary nodded, crying shakily. And she sobbed into Daryl's chest until she fell asleep, exhausted, hot, and emotional.