Never Meant to Last

Daryl knew that his time was coming to end. He could feel his body as it lay dying. The gunshot wound had been a gutshot. A painful and nasty way to die if he did say so himself. And Lydia had witnessed the whole thing. If he could have spared her the pain, he would have, but as it was, she was holding his hand.

His lip quivered as his body went into shock. He moved his blood-covered hand over hers and patted it gently. They'd been through a lot in the last four years since the Whisperers had been taken down, and she'd come to mean so much more to him than he had ever thought possible.

"Tell Carol..." His voice cracked with emotion. The tears fell down his cheeks. There was so much he wanted to say to Carol, the love of his life, but the words were lost on his tongue.

Lydia closed her eyes, laying her forehead against his and whispered, "I'll tell her. She knows, but I'll tell her. I'll tell her every day. I promise." She had to choke back the tears as she held his face with the hand that wasn't clutching his tightly. "Daryl, Daddy," she breathed.

The sob that tore through him sounded like that of a wounded and hurting animal. He moved his hand from her and pulled her into the tightest hug. "You keep being brave. And keep being just as you are...Love you, Lydia. You-you changed me for the better. I couldn't have come this far..." The words were coming slowly and through painful breaths, but he wanted her to know just how much he loved her and how much she meant to him.

"Take care of each other."

Those were his final words as he slipped into unconsciousness and took his last breath, forcing the young woman that was the closest thing to his child to put a knife through his skull to keep him from turning and destroying any more of the life they'd managed to build since the world fell apart all those years ago with the rising of the dead.