Arrowhead ➳ Daryl Dixon

f o u r t y o n e

Presley stood beside the window, leaning against the wall beside it. Her eyes frisked every house, in search of the precious man she searched for. She stayed so close to that window that Stefan swore she was going to jump. Her blue eyes were frantic, but Daryl wasn't in sight. Either that was a good thing, or a terribly horrible thing. Stefan watched her as he skimmed through a Stephen King book.

"You know, it's strange how we talked about these sort of things happening, and yet, we never believed that they would." Stefan said as he flipped the page. When she didn't look at him he continued, "I mean, look at this guy. He didn't really write about dead things walking around and eating people, but he did write about the supposed end of the world."

"It's all just a sick joke now." She added rather softly.

Stefan tossed the book aside, settling back onto the bed so that he now stared up at the ceiling. The air between them faded to opulent silence.

- - - - - - - -

Daryl watched the walkers wander aimlessly down the street, his eyes trained on Maggie's house the entire time. He could only pray that was where Presley was, that it was where she was held up. Hell, he even prayed that Stefan was with there to guarantee her safety.

But a nagging feeling in the back of his mind told him that she wouldn't be in there when he got there.

It took what felt like ages for the walkers to clear off the streets, but Daryl was out and about the second that the last one had disappeared... Or at least gotten far enough that he wouldn't be able to hear a door slam.

He bolted across the street and tore the door open, facing a startled Maggie with a knife in hand. She lowered the weapon once she saw it was Daryl, a look of relief plain as the nose on her face. She combed her fingers through her hair, looking at Daryl as he marched up the stairs.

"Presley?" He called worriedly.

"She's not here, Daryl." Maggie said rather softly. Daryl turned towards her, his heart dropping down the stairs at those words. She swore she could see him tear up a bit.

"Where'd she go?" He asked, marching back down to stand in front of her. His determination was almost frightening.

"I-I'm not sure... Her and Stefan went out earlier, and I haven't seen them come back... They're probably just camped out in a house, maybe you should wait for them to come-."

She didn't even get to finish, because Daryl was high-tailing it out the door and down the street. Unluckily, he couldn't track very well on sidewalk, even though it was loitered with leaves and mud and blood, so he simply followed his own instinct. "Pres?" He said, not quite loud enough to call a lot of attention.

He saw Stefan first.

Without a second thought, Daryl was moving quickly towards Stefan, and that was when Presley emerged out of the house. Her mane of black hair looked untidy, signaling she'd repeatedly run her hands through it... A habit that he knew she did when she was worried. She hardly even saw him before he swept her up into his arms, the fear from earlier washing away.

"Don' ye ever do that again, ye hear?"

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -- - -

"Don't you ever do that again."

Presley rested her chin on Daryl's shoulder as he swayed on his feet, his grip on her waist not even loosening enough for her to wriggle free. She inhaled his familiar scent and her eyes fluttered open, now looking at Stefan. He bore a heart-broken expression, but when he noticed that she was now watching him, he gave her a small smile that showed reassurance. It was fake, and she knew that. You would have to be blind in order not to see it. Deep down, she knew that his heart was broken because of her favoring Daryl over himself. She wished that there had been a way to save his feelings, but it was impossible. She didn't do anything to provoke those feelings- they'd all been on Stefan.