You walked through the prison yard, fallen leaves crunching beneath your feet. You were doing your best not to alter your stride from normal. Of course, the more you thought about it, the harder it became to know what normal meant.
Better to stop thinking about it entirely. You took a breath, trying to distract yourself as you continued along.
Today, you were teaching the kids about tracking.
Well, really Daryl was teaching the kids about tracking, but it was your idea. Ever since Carol had told you about what happened to Sophia, the thought had been stuck in the back of your mind. If someone went missing, or one of the kids got separated, they should know how to find each other.
You hadn’t expected Daryl to say yes. You figured it was worth asking, the question coming as an afterthought when you thanked him for the crayons. You figured he’d say no and then you’d just research enough basics to pass along to the kids.
But he’d surprised you.
“I can show ‘em,” He hesitated for a moment, chewing on the side of his thumb, “If ya want.”
“Really? I know you probably have other stuff you need to do so it’s really okay if you don’t want to.”
“Nah,” Daryl shook his head, “They need t’know how t’survive, right?”
“Right.” You smiled.
You’d both agreed that going out into the woods beyond the prison wasn’t an option. Instead, you scoped out an area of the yard further from the cell blocks that went relatively untouched by the rest of the community. Perfect for a hands-on tracking simulation.
Daryl said he didn’t want to know the route ahead of time, didn’t want to know more than the kids so he couldn’t necessarily give them the answers if they got stuck.
“Ain’t no answer keys out in the real world.” He’d grumbled, making you laugh.
He’d instructed you to do various things along the way– walking, running, fighting or struggling against something, and limping.
Obviously, you knew the order didn’t really matter. They just had to learn how to identify the signs, but you couldn’t help coming up with a story. That was just how your brain worked.
You walked from the cell block door down the hill until you were about two thirds of the way to the fence. Then you broke into a run, stopping yourself by hitting the chainlink. You shuffled around down there for a bit, skidding and using the fence as leverage to disturb the ground in the same way you would if you’d been pinned by a walker.
Satisfied with your staged scuffle and mindful that you only had a twenty minute head start, you moved on. You headed back up the hill, limping this time, veering right towards the nearest guard tower.
You finished your walk, swinging the tower door open and climbing to the top. The choice to make the final destination the guard tower had been purposeful– it was the perfect place to observe your class.
To your surprise, however, you weren’t the only one there.
“Oh, hey Mags.” You greeted. “I didn’t know we had a watch rotation in this tower.”
“We don’t, really.” Maggie shrugged, leaning her rifle against her shoulder. “But you can’t be too careful.”
“And it’s a nice quiet getaway.” You mused.
You moved to stand next to her, looking out over the yard together. You liked Maggie a lot. Maybe it was your closeness in age or your shared experience of having to step up for your people to survive, but the two of you had become friends from about the first day you arrived.
“I don’t see that husband-shaped shadow of yours…” You teased, looking around the otherwise empty tower.
“Glenn’s on a run with Sasha and Tyreese.” Maggie laughed, shaking her head. “What’re you up to? I saw you flopping around down there. Looked like you were having some kind of episode.”
It was your turn to laugh. “I’m fine, don’t worry. We’re doing an interactive lesson on tracking today. I had to leave signs of running, limping, stuff like that for them to identify.”
“We?”
“Oh, I’m just the assistant today.” You heard the cell block door open, turning to watch as the kids poured out into the yard. “The guest teacher–”
“Is that Daryl? ” Maggie’s eyes widened.
“It is indeed.” You smiled, resting your arms on the railing. “Figured they’d learn best from an expert.”
“Oh my God, look at him.” Maggie chuckled, covering her mouth with her hand.
With the initial excitement of getting away from the classroom fading, the kids clustered around Daryl, waiting for instruction. Even from far away, his discomfort was palpable. His posture was stiff and he held his arms close to his body, as if afraid the kids might give him some kind of disease.
Guilt gnawed at your stomach. “Maybe I shouldn’t have left him on his own…”
“He agreed to do it, right?”
“Yeah...but–”
“This will be good for him.” Maggie said. “Just wait.”
The guilt melted steadily away as Daryl waved his hands awkwardly, motioning for the kids to get on with it . Pride flared in your chest as Sophie broke out from the group first, crouching down and looking at the ground. She called back to the others, pointing down at the leaves.
Daryl nodded, and you could see some of the tension leave his shoulders as the children headed over to join Sophie. Lizzie picked up the trail next, and they were off. Daryl brought up the rear, quietly observing their progress.
“Hang on,” You heard him call, beckoning the class back a few steps.
They’d completely bypassed the point where you’d started to run. You smiled, watching as he crouched down, showing them the differences between the old trail and the new one. The class continued on towards the fence, close enough now that you could hear what they were saying.
“It’s the end of the trail.” Patrick said.
“No, something happened. Look,” Sophie pointed down at the base of the fence. “All the leaves and dirt have been moved around.”
“She was running again.” Mika guessed.
“Nah,” Daryl cut in. “Think about it.”
Silence fell for a moment as the kids stared down at the ground, trying to figure it out. Finally, Sophie spoke up.
“Was it a fight?”
Daryl nodded. You grinned, pleased to see how fast Sophie was picking everything up. She was smiling too, which only made you happier. She’d been nothing but a ball of doom and gloom lately.
“But it ain’t over yet.” Daryl said, “What happened next?”
Daryl crossed his arms, waiting for them to find the final leg of the trail. He wore an old flannel with the sleeves ripped off and his leather vest, leaving his arms exposed to the bright Georgia sun. Your eyes lingered for a moment on the defined muscles of his arms before tracing the rest of his well-built form.
You knew you shouldn’t, but you let yourself get lost in thoughts of what it might be like to be held by those strong arms, to be pressed against his firm chest or to have his calloused hands on your body, cradling your face as he…
Maggie nudged you with her elbow, eyebrows raised. “See something you like over there?”
You cleared your throat, tearing your gaze away from the archer. “The man has nice arms, what can I say.”
Maggie chuckled. “He needs a haircut.”
“I like it long.” You mused, biting your lip. “But he’d probably look handsome either way.”
Maggie studied you, a huge grin spreading across her face. “Oh, you’ve got it bad.”
“Yeah, well,” You scoffed. “I’m not getting my hopes up.”
“What makes you say that?” Maggie frowned.
You hugged your arms to your chest, shrugging. “I don’t think Daryl likes me very much. Every time I’ve tried to get to know him he’s gone all stiff. I think I make him uncomfortable.”
“Everybody makes Daryl uncomfortable. He’s been through a lot.” Maggie reasoned. “Don’t write him off yet. He just needs some more time to loosen up around you.”
“I guess.”
“Hey, he agreed to spend time with a bunch of kids on his own for you.” She smiled. “That’s gotta count for something.”
“Yeah,” You sighed, letting her words sink in. “Maybe you’re right.”
“I’m always right.” Maggie teased.
“Sure you are, Mags.” You chuckled, straightening up as the kids finally reached the base of the guard tower.
“Look!” Lily shouted, pointing up at you. “We found her!”
“Great work, trackers!” You called down to them. “Climb up for some high-fives and a quick debrief, okay?”
The children clambered up the stairs, crowding onto the platform. Maggie hung back by the railing, watching with a soft smile. Daryl leaned against the wall by the door, stony-faced as always. You did a quick round of comprehension questions with the kids, checking that those who weren’t as vocal during the exercise still knew what to look for when they went out tracking. Satisfied with their answers, you asked them each for a high five before releasing them from class for the rest of the afternoon.
“And make sure to thank Mr. Dixon for teaching you today!” You instructed.
Warmth spread through your chest as each of them stopped by the door to thank Daryl, some offering him smiles and high fives which he awkwardly returned. After they’d all filed out, you glanced over at Maggie. She raised her eyebrows, subtly nodding her head towards the archer before turning her back and looking out over the yard again.
“Really,” You said, catching his eye. “Thank you, Daryl. I think they enjoyed that.”
Daryl shrugged, chewing on the side of his thumb. “S’nothing. They need t’know that stuff.”
“They weren’t too much of a handful, were they?”
“Nah,” He shook his head. “They’re good kids. Yer teachin’ ‘em right.”
Your stomach flipped at the compliment.
“For the record, I think you make a great teacher yourself.” You reached forward, tentatively patting his arm. He didn’t flinch, but Daryl stared at your hand like it was an octopus arm. You pulled back, feeling slightly embarrassed.
Daryl cleared his throat, avoiding your gaze. “I should get back…”
“Right.” You nodded, “Sorry for keeping you.”
“S’fine.” Daryl frowned. “I’ll, uh–I’ll see ya, I guess.”
“Yeah.” You bit your lip. “See ya, Daryl.”
He hesitated for a second, finally meeting your gaze. You hadn’t talked with the archer much, but you’d learned that no matter how stony his expression or tough his talk, the truth lay in his eyes. Right now, Daryl looked at you with something you couldn’t quite place. It was softer than you expected, and you thought maybe he was about to say something else.
But then his gaze hardened back into its familiar guarded expression. He turned and slipped out the door without another word.
Maggie whistled. “Jesus Christ.”
You pinched the bridge of your nose. “I know.”
“I wasn’t even looking and I could feel the tension.” She teased. “Glenn is going to be sad he missed that.”
“You’re the worst.” You rolled your eyes.
Maggie smiled. “Yeah, well when the two of you stop doing whatever that was, you’ll change your tune.”
“We’ll see.” You sighed. “We’ll see.”
~
Even after the end of the world, some things don’t change. No more electricity, no more ice cream, no more movie nights or outdoor concerts. But there were still little things that hadn’t changed–the surprised, sort of dismayed laugh that only comes after a particularly bad joke, the change in the air right before it rains, and the fresh, soft smell of a baby in your arms.
Judith gurgled, staring up at you with big, blue eyes.
Beth had needed a break. You could tell she was itching to get away for a while and spend some time with Zach. You were more than happy to oblige, taking the little bundle from her.
All around you, C Block hummed with the sounds of life. You sat out in the common space, sitting backwards at one of the tables. Rick and Michonne – the latter of whom you’d only met a couple of times since arriving– sat at the other table, heads bent in conversation. Past the barred gate, you heard the indistinct tones of younger voices as the children released their after-dinner energy. A few feet away, Carol and Daryl sat on the steps to the lookout in companionable silence. Carol darned a pair of socks with Daryl a few steps up, sharpening an arrow.
Judith waved a chubby fist, cooing. You gazed down at her, warmth spreading through your chest. Looking at her calmed you immensely. Like seeing your girls smile, Judith’s wide-eyed and chubby face never failed to give you a sense of hope. There was still good out there. There was still beauty. She was living, breathing, drooling proof of that.
You patted her back, eliciting an adorable little hiccup. Judith bobbed her head, as if surprised by the noise that had just come out of her.
“Yes, sweet girl,” you chuckled. “That’s it.”
Judith waved her hands again, smiling a big toothless smile at you.
“Look at that smile!” You whispered, gently kissing her head. “Such a lovely smile.”
Feeling an unmistakable tingle at the back of your neck, you looked up from Judith’s round face to find a different pair of blue eyes staring back.
Daryl held your gaze, the same inexplicable softness hidden behind the streaks of grime and well-crafted mask of indifference. Your stomach flipped as your mind raced to interpret what the look on his face meant.
“Hey, Y/N?”
You turned away, focusing on the voice in front of you. Sophie stood a few feet away, arms crossed over her chest and her gaze on the floor.
“What’s up, sweetpea?” You asked, noting her defensive body language. “Everything okay?”
Sophie was quiet for a moment, kicking at the ground with the toe of her boot. Finally she swung her head up, meeting your eyes.
“Can I have my knife back?”
Your eyes widened, surprise flaring in your chest. You blinked, adjusting Judith against your chest.
A few days after settling into the prison, you’d collected Lily and Sophie’s knives. Sophie had been more resistant, demanding to know why before giving up her hold of the weapon. You’d explained that while the knife was an important piece of protection and Sophie needed to remember how to use the blade, she didn’t need to keep it with her inside the prison. She was safe without it. You’d wanted the girls to be able to run around and have fun without the burden of a weapon at their hips.
“Why?” You asked, “Do you need it for something?”
“I mean, no .” Sophie shrugged, looking down at the floor again before looking back at you. “But I want it.”
“You don’t need it, Soph.” You said.
“Yes, I do .” She insisted, tone getting sharper.
Judith wiggled in your grasp, as if distressed by the harshness in the older girl’s voice. Rick glanced over at you, taking stock of the situation. Recognition passed over his face. He got up and moved to your table.
“I got her.” He said gently, taking Judith from your arms.
“Thanks.” You nodded, before focusing back on Sophie. “Okay, Sophie. Let’s go talk about this.”
You stood up, hoping to guide her towards your cell or somewhere more private. To your dismay, the eleven-year-old just stood her ground, glaring.
“There’s nothing to talk about. I want my knife back.”
Crouching down so you were closer to eye-level, you gave her your best no-nonsense look.
“You don’t need it, Sophie. Not in here. We’ve already talked about this.”
“I need it for protection.” Sophie argued. “You’re always saying we need to know how to protect ourselves.”
“Right. You need to know how to protect yourself if we go outside the prison. When that happens, I’ll give you your knife.”
Sophie groaned, rolling her eyes. “Why can’t I just have it? I know how to use it. I’m not going to hurt myself.”
“I know.” You nodded. “I trust you know what to do with it. I taught you what to do with it. But Sophie, this is part of the lesson. Part of getting to have a weapon is knowing when to set it aside.”
“That’s so stupid!”
“Hey, we don’t use that word–”
“It is! It’s stupid !” She was yelling now. “I’m not–I’m not a baby! I want my knife back!”
In your periphery, you saw Rick moving towards his cell, taking Judith away from the noise. You could feel the others watching the spectacle unfold.
“Sophie…” You held out a hand, keeping your voice calm. “Are you okay? What’s bringing all of this on? Did something happen?”
“Not yet! But it will! It always does.” Sophie spat. “You say I’m safe in here but I’m not . I know I’m not. Something always happens and then we run. It happened at the school and the neighborhood and it's going to happen here too. So I want my knife with me when it does.”
Your heart sank at her bleak diagnosis. “Nothing is going to–”
“ Shut up !” Sophie screeched. “ Mark would have let me have my knife! You’re so... ugh ! I wish he were here instead of you! I wish you’d died and he’d lived instead!”
The air rushed from your lungs like you’d just taken a baseball bat to the gut. Sophie’s face softened immediately, anger melting instantly into regret.
“I…” You stood, ears ringing. “I need–we can talk about this later.”
You didn’t wait for her to start yelling again. You just turned on your heel and headed for the door, your vision getting steadily more blurred with each step. The door rumbled as you pulled it open, cold night air washing over you.
You walked for a while, wanting to put as much distance as you could handle between yourself and that quiet, white-walled space. You sank down onto one of the outdoor benches, dropping your head into your hands.
Emotions clawed their way through you, crowding your chest, and clogging your throat. Anger, hurt, guilt and an overwhelming sense of failure. You’d failed. As a teacher, as a protector...as a friend.
You saw Mark’s face beyond the haze of tears. You saw how he smiled at you, through all that pain you could barely imagine. You could still feel the gun, heavy in your hand.
“It’s okay, Y/N. It’s alright.”
It wasn’t okay. It wasn’t alright.
You’d tried not to think about it for so long. At first, you kept it all inside. You had to get the girls somewhere safe. You had to survive. You could let yourself feel it later. But then you’d come to the prison and had to be a teacher again. You had to be a leader. You had to hold it together. You had to make it okay, you had to be okay.
But you weren’t okay.
You curled in on yourself, bringing your legs up and hugging your knees to your chest. Even holding yourself together like this, pressing your face into the denim of your jeans, you fell apart. Tears streamed down your face as sobs wracked your body. Your shoulders shook, tears leaving wet splotches on the blue fabric clinging to your legs.
You cried, letting the memories and the feelings wash over you. You cried and cried and cried until you couldn’t cry anymore.
Setting your feet back down on the ground, you took in a deep, shuddering breath.
The world around you began to filter back in– you heard the walkers moaning in the distance, saw the moon hanging bright and full in the sky, and felt the cold prickling against your bare arms. You began to regret your decision of storming off without grabbing your cardigan as a shiver ran through you.
Still, you couldn’t stomach the idea of going back inside. Not yet.
Sudden warmth spread across your shoulders. You started, surprised at the feeling of fabric touching your skin. The vest settled over you, enveloping you with the scents of leather and cigarette smoke and Daryl.
The archer settled on the bench beside you without a word. He didn’t even look at you. Just sat there, staring out into the darkness. You studied his profile for a moment, confused and vulnerable in his presence.
He glanced at you, practiced indifference painted across his face. But you could see the concern in his eyes, the silent question. You sniffed, looking ahead at the dark prison yard and shrugging deeper into the vest.
Embarrassment burned in your chest. You hated that he was seeing you like this–weak. You probably looked ridiculous, with your puffy eyes and running nose. And he’d heard everything. He’d seen you fail.
Sophie’s angry face flashed in your mind, worry sparking through you.
“Sophie, shit.” You cursed, hurriedly swiping the moisture from your face. “I should–”
“Girl’s fine.” Daryl grunted, digging a hand into his pocket. “Carol’s talkin’ some sense into her.”
“Oh, no. She shouldn’t have to do–”
“She does.” Daryl pulled out a beat-up box of cigarettes, grabbing one and sticking it between his lips. “Wants to, I think.”
You deflated, sinking back down against the bench. You ran a hand through your hair, frustration still swirling in your gut.
Daryl flicked open his lighter, holding it up to the end of the cigarette and taking a drag. The flame illuminated his face for a second. He looked younger in the warm light, softer somehow.
His face fell back into shadow. Daryl’s presence made you feel better. More stable. Silence stretched between you for a while longer.
“Ya want t’talk about it?” He finally rasped, dropping the cigarette and crushing it under his boot.
You sighed, considering the offer. The lid was already off. May as well let the pot boil over.
“We were at our school in the beginning– when it all went to shit. After the news reports started the administration called the day early and told parents to come get their kids before it got worse. Lily’s dad had never been in the picture and her mom...she was hard to get to come to pick-up times, let alone parent conferences. Lily never says much about her, but I think she was an alcoholic. Anyway, she didn’t show. Neither did Sophie’s folks. She was in Mark’s class. Fourth grade. And there was Nicole, um–my best friend.”
“The nurse?”
“Yeah.” You nodded, managing a weak smile. “We were all pretty young, you know. Nicole and I were only twenty-four. Mark was twenty-six. We didn’t have families to go to so we stayed with the kids. FEMA came to make the school into a shelter and the Army was supposed to follow but...they didn’t show. More people were there, some other students and their families and people from the town. We made it okay for a while. Mark just sorta ran things. He’s like Rick that way. Nicole taught us what she could about first aid, and I still tried to teach the kids like normal. But the walkers got worse and worse and we didn’t have enough weapons. Mark knew we couldn’t stay. He and I tried to get the others to see it...but they wanted to stay and hold out until the military came. So the five of us hit the road.”
You took a breath, pulling the vest tighter around your shoulders. The more you talked, the easier the words came, rushing out of you like a flood.
“We found the subdivision in time for winter that first year. One of those gated community-type places that had been overrun. We managed to get a house secured…but then Mark decided we should clear out the neighborhood as best we could. On the second day Nicole...she got pinned and–I couldn’t get to her in time. I–” You paused, wiping away a fresh wave of tears. “After that we built a fence around the house. A big one, so the girls could come out and play without being in danger all the time. We were okay for a while...and then a herd came through. Right after a huge storm, too. A tree fell and knocked down part of the fence the night before. We didn’t have time to get it back up before they came. While we were running, Mark got bit. And...and I killed him. I had to. I had to…but I–”
You broke off, taking several long breaths until your heart stopped pounding in your chest.
“Ya loved him.” Daryl didn’t say it like a question, the words sounded like they were choking him.
“Yes...no,” You sighed, “Not like that. Mark was like a brother to me. He was family. He...god, I wanted to be like him. You should have seen him with the kids. He was the best teacher I’ve ever seen. And he was so...he was so strong.”
Daryl paused a moment, still and silent as he took in your words. Then, so quiet you almost couldn’t hear it, he spoke.
“I killed m’brother.” You remained quiet, waiting for him to continue. “Was always following his sorry ass around. Even at the end, I went off t’go get him. Found him turned, sittin’ there eating somebody. Had to put ‘im down.”
“I’m sorry.”
Daryl scoffed. “Don’t be. He was a jerk.”
“Maybe. But you’re not, and I know that was hard. I’m still sorry, Daryl.” You shifted after a moment, turning towards him. “Do you want to tell me about him?”
Daryl shrugged, but spoke anyway. He told you about Merle and the crazy shit he got into, how he’d dragged Daryl along for most of it. He told you about how Merle would take the brunt of their father’s rage after their mother died, about how he could be caring despite his pig-headedness. He told you about losing Merle in Atlanta and again after the Governor.
You listened to it all, wondering at the man in front of you. In awe of how someone who’d seen so much hurt, who’d felt so much pain and sadness, could still go on, could be so good . You admired Daryl Dixon deeply. More deeply than you thought possible.
He lapsed once more into silence. Acting on impulse, you closed the distance between you, wrapping your arms around him. Daryl stiffened at first, as if unsure how to react. But then his arms slowly came up, winding around your waist.
Daryl exhaled, settling into the embrace. You pressed your nose into his collar, shutting your eyes and enjoying the deep comfort you drew from this man. You felt his grip tighten slightly, drawing you closer. His forehead dropped onto your shoulder as you felt him relax, breathing in time with you.
After what felt like both an eternity and the blink of an eye, you pulled back enough to look at him. You felt your breath catch in your throat at the look on his face. Daryl stared at you with that same softness you’d seen in his eyes, this time written all over his face. Your heart stuttered as you tried to place the emotion in his face, wondering if it meant what you thought it might.
“Thank you, Daryl.” You whispered.
“For what?”
You couldn’t help but smile at that, shaking your head. “For everything.”
Pulling away completely, you stood up and shrugged off his vest. You handed it to him, intending to head back inside.
But your impulses got the better of you. You leant back down, pressing a quick kiss to the archer’s cheek. You stood up again and made for the cell block just as fast as you’d kissed him, losing your nerve.
As you headed back to your cell, you couldn’t help the warmth that spread from your heart through your entire body or the smile stretched wide across your face.