"So..." Rick looked around as I walked back inside, the group clustered around him with arms full of bags and clothes that we'd left. As shameful as it was, I couldn't find it in me to wear anything other than the jeans I'd owned since before all of this, and the stupid t-shirt my brother found for me.
I'd washed my clothes many times, but there was a pretty obvious stink to it that came with the constant wear. And there was only so many times you could wash a shirt before the stains became part of the design.
"What do you think?" Rick asked. I looked around the dull grey block, taking in every inch of detail, to the cracked green paint job on the bars, the blood splatters on the walls of some cells... The cold rectangular bunk beds.
"Home sweet home," Glenn said, ducking his head as the sarcastic comment slipped from his lips.
"For the time being, yes."
"It's secure?" Carol spoke up, looking towards the leader as he wiped his hands down his jeans.
His facade of positivity was held plastered on his features, but I could only think it was a matter of time before he returned to the self-questioning, brooding, guilty-looking man he usually was.
"This cellblock is," He replied, his eyes wandering the building again as I slowly let out a huge breath. I may not have done much to help, but it sure was a huge feat.
"What about the rest of the prison?" Hershel gripped the strap of his shoulder bag, as he stepped forward.
"In the morning, we'll find the cafeteria and infirmary." His voice strengthened, echoing through the building as I shuffled on my feet.
"W-We sleep in the cells?" Beth asked, looking towards the dirty little rooms.
"I found keys on some guards. Daryl has a set, too." He held a whole bunch of keys in his hand, looking down to them.
"I ain't sleepin' in no cage." Daryl interrupted, his voice coming from the second storey. I'd forgotten he was even there, but as he looked down from the bars his eyes met with a few from below. "I'll take the perch."
Carl and I remained still, as the group dispersed in a rush to get the cleanest cells. Everyone went for the cells at the bottom, Carol immediately heading towards the closest bunk, near the metal barred doorway we'd all entered in. Beth headed off into her own cell, Hershel into his own, Maggie and Glenn finding one together. T-Dog went back through the doorway and into the dirty entrance area.
"Thank you," Lori said quietly to her husband.
It looked as though there was going to be an awkward situation to follow, so I quickly made my move for a cell.
There weren't many choices, with most cells being taken up by the others. Even Daryl was busy pulling a mattress from one of the upstairs cells, sliding it across the cement and pushing it onto the perch.
In fact, there were only three cells to spare on the bottom floor, and I was guessing Carl and Rick were going to be in the one closest to everyone else.
So I headed towards the direct end of the block, to where I'd taken out the roamer with my knife. It was one cell away from Rick's, but at least it wasn't right beside him.
I slowly peered inside the cell, my hand resting on the bar door as I pulled it open, taking in the sight before me.
In the cell was a toilet, a sink... Each as marked as the other with substances that I didn't even want to know about. Beside this was a small white desk, splattered with blood, with a metal stool placed in front of it, bolted to the floor.
There was a big bunk bed on the side of this room, where I guessed I'd be sleeping from now on. On this covered mattress was a thin cotton blanket that still lay strewn on the bed.
And right in the centre of the room was a giant mark of dark red... Dried blood from whatever happened to the inhabitants of this cell.
I was not at all feeling comfortable about this room, sleeping in this bed.
"Right..." I whispered, dodging the blood spot so I could edge my way towards the bed.
I automatically threw myself onto the mattress with exhaustion.
These four walls surrounding me, they were about the first things that'd actually given me a sense of relaxation for a long time. There was finally something to separate me from the outside world, and that feeling was going to stay with me for as long as we were here... The feeling that for once I could finally live a life not having to look over my shoulder.
<><><><>
For my first night sleeping in an actual bed in a long, long time, I couldn't have felt more restless. Considering how tired I'd been, I should have fallen asleep instantly. But for some reason, when I'd look around the cold cell block, I just couldn't get one thought from my mind.
I found myself twisting and turning long after the cell block had fallen into silence, my eyes just not closing. It was also the first night I had spent entirely by myself, with nobody around me, no one to listen to.
Not to mention the fact that I was boiling hot, even though I had taken off my uncomfortable jeans.
This whole cell just felt awfully industrial, with its metal bunk, the concrete floor, walls... And the rusted metal bars that I insisted I used as a door to my "room". Little did I think that maybe wanting to be alone was not the best thing for me, considering I almost always had to be around people.
In a split second decision, I sat up from where I lay, turning so I could dangle my bare legs off of the warmth of the bed. The cold concrete was icy against my toes as I stepped from where I sat on the bed, to my full height. The darkness of my cell was hard to navigate in, as my sense of direction felt way off-balanced.
I swiftly grabbed my jeans from where they were lay on the floor, and struggled in the dark to try and wriggle my legs into the tight denim.
I fumbled towards the bars, quickly making a grab for the rusty metal, after seeing it glint in the moonlight that shone in through the window in the block.
I slowly pushed the bar door open, making a painstakingly loud squeaking noise as I did so.
The cellblock was much cooler than inside my cell... And I could feel the softness of the pale light on my skin as I slowly tiptoed my way past Rick's cell.
It had to be late... Everyone was asleep.
I had no exact idea of where I was going, but somehow just getting out of this building, even after all we'd done to get into it, was my objective.
My feet subconsciously led me down to the barred gates, bare and cold as I found myself continuing towards the short stairway out of here. Some fresh air was what I needed, after spending every night of my life since the apocalypse began under the twinkling light of the stars, even in the field of tents with Jane and Dave.
I hopped up the staircase, my feet making strange noises against the metal as I did so. The hallway to the metal door was a claustrophobic walk, as I felt as though the hard concrete walls on all sides were going to crush me into pieces.
When I reached the rusty old door, I began to pull at the handle, trying to slide it open as best I could.
It wouldn't budge.
Of course, Rick would have locked it with his keys...
In surrender to this rusty barrier, I pressed my heated forehead against the metal, the cold contact sending goosebumps to my arms.
I let out the tiniest of sighs as I faintly bumped my forehead against the metal again, more out of frustration than anything else.
We certainly were locked in like prisoners.
A hand suddenly reached out for my shoulder, the heavy feeling on my skin almost bringing a shout to my lips as I darted around, only to find myself pressed up against a surprised figure.
"Shh!" The hand darted to my mouth as I began to form a rude remark, covering my lips with their fingers.
I pushed away at the hand almost as soon as they made contact with my face, the both of us looking both confused and, on my part, furious.
Even in the darkness I could smell him... The faint trace of stale sweat and dirt and the subtle tang of pine needles. Daryl.
It wasn't just his scent, either. Just the roughness of his hands, and the short breaths that left his nose in the brief silence that ensued, let me easily identify the stranger.
"Were you following me?" I whispered hurriedly, my chest still hammering with the shock he'd given me.
"No." He sounded annoyed, his accent strong as he whispered back, "I was makin' sure you weren't gettin' yourself into trouble out there."
I couldn't even see his face, just the silhouette of his strong body, which towered over mine from where he stood.
"For your information, I was just going out for some air... And I wasn't gonna get into trouble." I straightened my back, which was pressed uncomfortably against the icy metal. "Also, technically you were still following me." I added.
He didn't reply, his body still awfully close to mine.
"And it doesn't matter anyway, the door's locked," I said, looking back to the handle in my frustration. "We're trapped."
"Don' be so damn dramatic..." He said gruffly. I was about to say something, when I heard a short ruffling noise, and the short scuff of metal against fabric...
Then, the faint tingling of keys.
"Oh, God, thank you," I said, smiling up at him even though he couldn't see it. He shifted away from me slightly, over to the side of me so he could unlock the door as quietly as possible.
"'S nothing," He replied quietly, as the click of the lock sounded my release. I immediately pulled at the door, embracing the icy wind on my skin as I stepped out. Light finally illuminated Daryl's tired-looking face, as he stood inside.
"Do... Do you wanna come with me?" I asked, turning back before I could begin down the awful cagey metal staircase. "I'm just going around the fence a few times, maybe it might tire me out."
He hesitated, looking down at me, before pulling his keys from the lock, and stepping out from the door. Daryl made sure to close it after him, before stepping out into the cold.
From the opposite gate, where Rick and Daryl had locked away the remaining roamers and buildings, the creatures began snarling loudly.
In silence, I began walking towards the huge field, letting the midnight breeze blow gently at my hair. The pavement felt prickly beneath my naked feet, but I didn't care.
Soon the feeling of icy blades of grass could be felt between my toes, and the bright little balls of light in the sky could be easily seen from where I stared past the barbed fences.
"Y'know, I was looking forward to living indoors," I said, looking back to Daryl, who was walking behind me, his hands in the pockets of his brown pants. "It's kinda weird how I changed my mind once we got inside."
Daryl didn't say anything at first, instead watching as I slowed my walking to a complete stop, before slowly sitting on the cold ground.
He looked down on me, a questioning look on his darkened eyes.
"I thought you wanted t' walk," He said.
"I lied. My legs are actually really sore." I told him, letting out a soft breathy laugh.
Daryl nodded once, stuffing his hands deeper into his pockets before turning to walk back to the building, his head lowered in tiredness.
"Don't go, please," I whispered, looking up at him. "I guess I'm just kinda lonely. Need someone to talk to." Daryl hesitated as I said this, so I added, "Or at, in your case."
He looked reluctant as he pulled his hands from his pockets, before using one of his hands for support as he sat down beside me, keeping his fair distance.
"Why weren't you asleep?" I asked quietly, staring ahead of me.
"I just wasn't."
There was something really off about him, the usual snarky comments were nowhere to be seen, even when I'd expected him to tell me to mind my own business.
Still, his answer was as vague as I predicted it would have been.
I didn't mind not talking. In fact, I was glad he'd even listened when I asked him to stay. So we sat in silence again, letting the chirrups of crickets and the distant snarls of roamers be the only thing to focus on.
I let out a short puff of air, watching as it appeared white against the dark sky.
Then again, silence never really was something I could sit in for too long, even as a child.
"My brother should've gone to a prison," I suddenly whispered, looking down at my hands where they interlocked across my knees.
Daryl turned his head towards me, his jaw clenching and unclenching as he followed my gaze down to my fingers.
"Possession of cocaine... Driving while under the influence..." My voice lowered unintentionally. "Guess this'd be the kind of place he'd be in if he actually got caught."
He didn't say anything, watching down at me as I continued to fumble nervously.
"It's been on my mind," I said. "But sometimes I wish he'd gone to juvie or something, when he was young. Just so he could've straightened out... Sorted out his issues before all of this."
Daryl looked slightly confused as he looked down, not wanting to ask directly.
"Dave struggled with an addiction to cocaine most of his life, until... Well..." I chuckled lightly, my bitterness evident. "Until he couldn't get any more. "
"When I was little I used to watch his cycles..." I fiddled with my hands as I continued, not daring to meet Daryl's stare. "Y'know, he'd go out to his friend's place, come home... And it was obvious there was something different about him."
"He'd swear a lot, but he was funnier than ever. I'd love him when he was, err, high, because he told the funniest stories... Because I was little, I didn't really know what it meant when his mood would change."
"But he'd get mad quickly, and he'd lash out and suddenly start shouting, or he'd tell me to 'piss off'."
My deep-voiced impersonation of Dave's voice only made the bitterness sting more in my throat.
"Then he'd lock himself away in our room. Those were the nights I'd sleep on the couch to avoid his mood swings -- we shared a room growing up," I explained, tiredly rubbing at my eyes. "He was kinda sad for a while after that initial rush... He'd sit in his room for ages, listening to whichever stupid band he was apparently 'into' that week. My mom hated that."
"She always used to say that Dave was not only neglecting himself, but me, too."
"Mom had to work a lot to provide, so I was always with Dave after school, until I was old enough to be home alone." My eyes fell on Daryl's, who was staring at the way my lips moved whilst I told this story. "I guess the reality finally sunk in when the apocalypse hit... And he came out of that rut he'd been in since the age of fifteen."
"Why do ya call it tha'?" Daryl suddenly asked, his voice sounding tired. "The apocalypse."
"D... Doesn't it feel like the end to you?"
"I'm not sayin' it ain't," He replied slowly.
"Well, what can I say? I've always been one for the melodrama." I looked away now, a ghost of a smile playing on my lips.
Daryl just leant back slightly, as though he was indicating me to continue my tale.
"We were so scared that one day he'd OD... My mom was tempted to send him to rehab, but we couldn't afford it. So she said the next best thing is to take him to the cops and have him put in juvie for possession." I shook my head, "I was only ten... I think."
There was a brief pause, as Daryl shifted slightly.
"Well, she was damn wrong."
"About juvie?"
"About jail. It don' make things better, it makes 'em worse. Hardens ya. And suddenly, gettin' caught don't matter as much." He lifted a hand to stratch at his stubble.
"D-Did you go...?" I asked quietly.
He only shook his head, before murmuring, "Merle did."
"Merle?"
"My brother. Liked his bikes, and his women... And his meth." Daryl straightened his shoulders. "An' that's all there was to it."
It didn't look like that was all there was to it, but I didn't question him further, even though his face had paled even more so in the moonlight.
"Older brothers are kinda fucked up..." I murmured under my breath.
"Everythin's fucked up, Amy."
I couldn't hold in the short breathy laugh, brushing a strand of my loose hair out of my eyes.
"You probably didn't come out here to listen to that sob-story..." I shook my head, "I'm sorry about your brother, again."
"Yours, too." Daryl murmured under his breath, as though he was fighting with himself to keep his mouth shut.
"Well, thanks for 'freeing me'." I nodded to the metal door, "But we should probably get back inside."
With that, he pulled himself to his feet, wiping grass from his hands and onto his pants. I did too, feeling much wearier after this conversation.
On the way back to the building, the roamers at the gate went insane, only reminding me of my hit today.
"Thank you... By the way. I don't think I've thanked you for teaching me to use the knives." I stepped beside him from where I lingered back. "I think they're about the only thing I'm good at, these days. And being good at something... It feels nice."
He looked back again, studying my face as I awkwardly stepped up the stairs.
"I'll never forget you helping me like that... You know that, right?" I said quietly, my voice lowering as he pushed open the metal doorway. "I'm never gonna leave these five knives out of my sight."
Daryl never replied, walking ahead with his head lowered lightly, before stopping just inside the door to close it behind me, ensuring it was locked.
I figured I may as well go, head off back to my cell, where I could finally fall asleep in my bed.