The night envelops the road, shrouding the landscape in a blanket of darkness as the car drives forward, its headlights piercing through the obscurity. Tension hangs palpably in the air, the silence inside the vehicle echoing the gravity of their pursuit. Daryl's grip tightens around the steering wheel, his jaw set in determination as they follow the vehicle that took Beth captive. Beside him, Madeleine sits, her gaze occasionally shifting between Daryl and the road ahead, a mixture of concern and resolve etched on her face.
In the dim glow of the car's interior lights, Madeleine's hand gently finds its way atop Daryl's, a silent reassurance in the midst of their intense focus. She feels the tension in his grip, the underlying worry for Beth's safety driving their pursuit. With a glance over at him, she steadies herself, determined to provide support in any way she can.
Breaking the tense silence, Daryl's gravelly voice cuts through the night, his concern for their group evident in his words. "Rick's gonna wonder where we went."
Madeleine responds, her voice steady as she checks and loads Daryl's gun, her movements methodical and swift. "They'll understand when we bring Beth back." Her eyes briefly meet Daryl's, conveying a silent promise of resolve and determination.
The road stretches out endlessly before them, the only sounds the hum of the engine and the occasional distant howl of the wind. Each passing mile deepens their anticipation and fuels their determination to retrieve their missing companion. Despite the darkness of the night and the uncertainty of the situation, a shared sense of purpose unites them in their mission.
Daryl maneuvers the vehicle along the worn-out road, the engine's rumble interspersed with the intermittent silence between their exchanges. The faint scent of pine and damp earth seeps through the cracked windows, reminding them that they're in a world teeming with unknown dangers. Madeleine leans forward, her eyes scanning the horizon, a sense of determination etched in her every move.
"Tank's runnin' low," Daryl remarks, casting a quick glance at the fuel gauge.
"Will we manage to tail them for a while?" she inquires, her gaze fixed on the distant silhouette of the vehicle they've been following. "I can get the driver to tell us where she went," she suggests, a hint of confidence in her voice.
He acknowledges her statement. "I know you can. But if he don't talk, we're back to square one," he states, fully aware of her own interrogation prowess.
"We both know I can get anyone to talk," she boasts, sharing a knowing look with Daryl, a silent understanding passing between them.
Daryl grins at her persistence, "All I'm saying is right now, we got the advantage. We'll see who they are. If they're a group, see what they can do," he proposes, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. She rolls her eyes in mild exasperation, ready to take more direct action to retrieve Beth for Maggie. "And then we'll do what we gotta do to get her back."
Madeleine smiles victoriously at the thought, the determination in her eyes reflecting her resolve. "I like the sound of that," she affirms, her focus returning to the road. "They're heading north, I-85," she adds, her voice resolute as she charts their course with a confident gesture.
As Daryl steers their vehicle, Madeleine keeps a vigilant eye on the car they've been tailing. The sun begins its descent, casting a golden hue across the landscape, the highway stretching out before them like a never-ending ribbon of asphalt.
The car ahead makes a sudden turn onto a narrower road, its pace slowing considerably. Madeleine senses an opportunity and nudges Daryl, signaling him to ease off the gas pedal. With cautious precision, he guides their car closer, maintaining a safe distance while keeping the target vehicle in sight.
The road curves, and the car they've been tracking comes to a halt, parking just a few yards away. Daryl maneuvers their vehicle around the corner, parking discreetly to observe the scene unfolding before them.
In the stillness of the fading daylight, the silence is palpable, broken only by the distant hum of their engine and the occasional rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze. Madeleine's gaze remains fixed on the stationary car ahead, her senses alert and her mind racing with possibilities.
With a subtle nod from Madeleine, Daryl switches off the engine, plunging them into a hushed anticipation. Both of them remain quiet, exchanging glances that speak volumes, a silent communication between seasoned survivors.
The occupants of the other car seem to be engaged in a conversation, their gestures and movements obscured by the fading light. Madeleine reaches for her binoculars, hoping to catch a glimpse of their intentions. She carefully scans the scene, her focus unwavering, trying to discern any signs of threat or distress.
A flicker of movement from the other car draws her attention. Someone steps out, glancing around cautiously before heading towards a nearby building. Madeleine nudges Daryl again, her eyes urging him to remain watchful as she continues her surveillance.
The tension in the air is palpable, adrenaline coursing through them as they wait, their senses heightened, ready to react at a moment's notice. Each passing second feels like an eternity as they maintain their discreet vigil, assessing the situation and calculating their next move.
Daryl furrows his brow, squinting at the distant figures emerging from the car. "What the hell's he waiting for?"
Madeleine's eyes narrow as she observes the unfolding scene. "There's two of 'em."
A puzzled expression crosses Daryl's face. "Is that a cop?"
"Who the hell are they?" Madeleine murmurs, scanning the area cautiously.
The two strangers exit the vehicle, and the cop starts to wander away while the other person unloads two bicycles from the car. Madeleine and Daryl exchange a perplexed glance, uncertain of the newcomers' intentions.
Before they can decipher the situation, a sudden, unnerving noise startles them—a walker banging against the window of their own car. Madeleine instinctively grabs her sword from its sheath, her eyes fixed on the approaching threat. Daryl watches in tense silence as Madeleine lowers the window cautiously, allowing the walker to get close before swiftly dispatching it with a precise strike to the head. The lifeless body slumps to the ground as she quickly closes the window, securing their safety.
As the walker's remains lay motionless on the ground, the cop retrieves the bicycles and heads back into the car. The vehicle ignites, and Madeleine and Daryl exchange another look, a mix of curiosity and wariness evident in their expressions. They remain vigilant, unsure of what to expect next.
The car turns a corner and speeds away, leaving Madeleine and Daryl alone again. Daryl tries to start their own car, his gaze lingering on the path the mysterious car took. The tension in the air remains palpable as they attempt to process the sudden and unexpected encounter.
Glancing at each other, they share a silent acknowledgment of the uncertainty that lies ahead, both recognizing the need to stay on high alert in this unpredictable world. As they gather their thoughts, the distant sound of the departing vehicle fades into the desolate landscape, leaving them once more in the eerie silence of the deserted surroundings.
As the engine sputters and fails to start, Daryl's frustration becomes evident. He pounds the steering wheel with a growl of annoyance. "Aw, shit! Tank's tapped," he announces, his voice tinged with frustration. His eyes scan their surroundings, taking note of the increasing number of walkers closing in on their immobilized vehicle. "They'd have taken the bypass and they didn't. They must be holed up in the city somewhere."
Madeleine assesses the situation, her eyes scanning the street. She recognizes their location and a faint glimmer of hope crosses her expression. "I know a place just a couple of blocks from here. We can make it," she declares confidently, locking eyes with Daryl. Their silent understanding speaks volumes, and they share a nod before swinging open the car doors.
As they step out onto the desolate street, the putrid stench of decay assaults their senses. Walkers emerge from the shadows, drawn by the commotion. Madeleine swiftly draws her sword, its glint catching the faint light as she moves to defend herself against the encroaching undead. With a determined resolve, she thrusts the blade through the walker's skull, the sickening sound of bone crunching under her attack.
Daryl is by her side in an instant, his crossbow at the ready as he dispatches another walker with precision. The snarling undead continue to converge upon them, their moans filling the air. Madeleine's boots connect with the walker's head, silencing its snarls as she ensures it poses no further threat.
As they dash through the dilapidated streets, Madeleine sets a rapid pace, her senses acutely attuned to any signs of danger. Daryl keeps up, his footsteps echoing against the broken pavement. With each turn they take, their breaths quicken in anticipation of the unknown that lies ahead. The urgency of their flight drives them to move swiftly, navigating the desolate landscape.
Reaching a concealed alley, Madeleine signals towards an old, weather-beaten door, a semblance of safety amidst the desolation. Daryl moves swiftly to open it, his hands working deftly as he tries to gain access, while Madeleine remains vigilant, scanning the area for any encroaching threats. The distant shuffling of approaching walkers catches her attention, and without hesitation, she steps forward, her grip tightening around the hilt of her sword.
As the walkers draw nearer, Madeleine dispatches them with calculated precision, her movements fluid and efficient. She navigates the small group of undead with ease, ensuring their threat is neutralized before they pose any danger to them or anyone else.
A warning echo reaches her ears, and she swiftly turns to Daryl, alerting him to the growing numbers of walkers converging towards their location. "There's more incoming," she warns, swiftly taking down another approaching walker before regrouping with Daryl.
With a nod of acknowledgment, Daryl ushers her towards the door, a sense of urgency enveloping their actions. They slip into the building, Daryl securing the door behind them, effectively shutting out the encroaching danger.
Inside, the interior feels hauntingly familiar to Madeleine, triggering fragmented memories that linger just beneath the surface. Each corner turned, every corridor navigated, echoes a past she's struggled to come to terms with. She moves with an air of cautious familiarity, her steps measured yet propelled by an undercurrent of discomfort.
Daryl's presence beside her offers a subtle reassurance, a silent reminder that they face this challenge together. Their alliance has weathered countless trials, yet this place, this journey through these halls, seems to stir something within her, a maelstrom of memories threatening to resurface. She casts a sidelong glance at Daryl, acknowledging his unspoken support as they delve deeper into the shadows of the building.
Daryl's eyes scan the room, taking in the familiar yet unfamiliar surroundings of the temporary shelter. His gaze lingers on the notice board for a moment, bearing witness to the remnants of a time before the world crumbled into chaos. Madeleine's presence in this space piques his curiosity.
"How'd you know of this place?" His voice holds a touch of curiosity as he gazes at her back.
"I lived here for a while way before the world fell." Madeleine's response is matter-of-fact, her eyes not meeting his as she retrieves the keys from a cabinet, her movements precise and deliberate.
Daryl's intuition kicks in as he pieces together the timeline. "You came here after it happened," he concludes, his tone soft yet probing.
She nods subtly, her eyes clouded with memories she'd rather not revisit. "I left New York. I did come home again, but it didn't take long for him to find me again. So, I ran. Every time he found me, I ran again," she reveals, her voice carrying the weight of past struggles as she sets her sword down on the bed, taking a seat.
"So, you enlisted," Daryl acknowledges, recognizing the harsh reality that led her to that decision.
"I was the most protected there, even when my life was at risk," she admits, her gaze drifting away. "Yet, he never left my mind, the idea that he was coming after me to kill me."
Daryl listens attentively, understanding the gravity of her words and the pain they carry. He stands there, contemplating the tumultuous journey she's been on, and the resilience she's shown in the face of unrelenting danger.
"You should sleep. I'll take first watch."
"This is locked up pretty tight," Daryl comments, shaking his head as he begins to remove his jacket, preparing to settle in.
Madeleine nods absently, acknowledging his observation, but her thoughts seem to linger elsewhere. "I know. I just won't be able to sleep," she admits softly, her arms crossed as she walks to the window, her gaze fixed on the outside world, lost in a web of memories and unspoken fears.
Daryl strides over to Madeleine, his steps measured but purposeful, and envelops her in his sturdy arms, holding her close as she leans back into his comforting embrace. His lips brush against her hair as he whispers softly into her ear, his voice a soothing balm to her unsettled thoughts. "He won't hurt you ever again, Mads. He's not here. You said we got to start over after the world fell."
Madeleine gazes down, her fingers lightly tracing the fabric of Daryl's shirt, feeling the steady thud of his heart beneath her touch. Her thoughts drift momentarily before she answers, her voice carrying a trace of vulnerability. "I'm still tryin'."
Daryl, ever protective, tenderly brushes a stray strand of hair away from Madeleine's face, his touch gentle and reassuring. His lips find solace on her forehead, a gesture filled with affection and understanding. "Why don't you get it out of your mind before it eats you alive?"
Feeling the warmth of his presence and the sincerity in his words, Madeleine sighs softly, her eyes closing for a brief moment as she leans into his comforting touch. Her voice, though tinged with lingering pain, carries a hint of determination as she speaks again. "I'm trying, Daryl. I promise. But it's like a shadow that just keeps following me, you know?"
Daryl holds her closer, feeling the weight of her emotions in his arms. His voice, soft yet firm, holds a reassuring tone. "Yeah, I know. But you don't gotta face it alone. You got me. We got each other."
She turns slightly, her voice trembling imperceptibly as she continues, the rawness of her emotions evident in her words. "He always found me, Daryl. No matter where I ran to. Even when I was here, he found me and he... hurt me again. I ran, ran and ran, hoping to escape, but he tracked me down every single time. Just when I thought he wouldn't, when I managed to stay in one city for more than a few weeks, I thought he gave up... he didn't. He was relentless, waiting for that moment when I let my guard down. And when I did, I paid the price." Her hand unconsciously drifts to her upper arm, her fingers tracing an invisible mark, a haunting reminder of the pain she endured.
The memories flood her mind, and she closes her eyes briefly, fighting back the overwhelming rush of emotions threatening to consume her. The unspoken aftermath of her sentence lingers heavily in the air, hanging between her and Daryl, as though some unspoken truth remains too difficult to voice.
Daryl stands rooted to the ground, a mix of empathy and concern etched on his face. He respects her silence, realizing that some wounds are too deep, too painful to revisit. His heart aches for her, wanting to offer comfort and reassurance, yet understanding that sometimes the healing process requires the passage of time and the gentle embrace of understanding companionship.
The room falls into a momentary hush, the only sound the soft rustling of the wind outside. Madeleine draws a deep breath, collecting her thoughts before she glances at Daryl, her eyes filled with an unspoken gratitude for his unwavering presence and support.
"I was desperate and I was scared, I knew I needed to learn to protect myself, I needed to go somewhere after he-." She cuts herself off, and Daryl gently rests a comforting hand on her shoulder, Madeleine reciprocates, placing her hand atop his.
"Why was he after you?"
"He wanted to kill me. Said if he couldn't have me, no one could. I was his, and no one else's. He promised we'd be together forever in heaven or hell." Her voice trembles, the weight of those horrifying words etched deep in her memory. A lone tear streaks down her cheek, a silent witness to the pain that lingers beneath the surface. "He nearly succeeded." Her attempt to regain composure hangs in the air, her resolve waging a battle against the haunting memories. She pauses, a silent struggle evident in the quiver of her voice as she tries to mask the deep-rooted pain. "This place... it brings back memories. Memories I'd rather forget." With a forced smile, she turns away, a feeble attempt to shield the vulnerability that she knows he's picked up on. "You should rest."
Daryl's hands find their way to her cheeks, a tender yet firm touch as he locks eyes with her. "If that son of a bitch is still alive, and our paths cross, I'm putting him down. He won't lay a finger on you again. I swear on that." His voice carries a steely determination, a promise anchored in unwavering protection.
He knows her torment runs deep, the scars of her past too profound to easily dismiss. His touch conveys a message of solidarity, a silent pledge to stand guard against any threat, no matter where it emerges from.
Madeleine maintains a steady gaze, her smile carrying a touch of distant resolve. "I know." She gently caresses his cheek, her touch carrying both comfort and understanding. "And you don't really like to talk about your past, but I can handle it. You handle my pain, I handle yours."
Daryl's response is tinged with restraint, a hint of buried memories lacing his words. "There's not much to say. I've pretty much told you everything, Mads. I was no one before, I didn't do anything other than follow Merle around like a lost puppy. I've told you everything... whatever I haven't told you... it's stuff not worth remembering either."
Their foreheads meet, a silent understanding passing between them. "I'm here for you," Madeleine murmurs softly.
Daryl brushes a kiss on her forehead, a gesture filled with unwavering support. "And I'm here for you."
Madeleine gazes into his eyes, a look of profound love and admiration shining through. "You showed me what love truly was supposed to feel like despite all odds. I wanted a love that made me believe in destiny, I tease Marie about it, but I believe in it. And you, Daryl Dixon, gave me more than that."
With a smile, Daryl whispers tenderly, "Let's start over, Lily? You and I." He retrieves a necklace from his pocket, gently placing it around her neck. "Marry me."
Madeleine's surprise is evident in her widened eyes. "What?"
"Madeleine Lily Grimes, marry me," Daryl repeats, his words filled with sincerity. "I need to keep the one good that's ever happened to me by my side. I thought I lost you, I felt... empty. Like I lost a part of me. I don't ever want to feel that way again. I just want to spend the rest of my life with you. You and me. Until death does us apart."
Their lips meet in a passionate kiss, the depth of their connection evident in the embrace. Madeleine breaks away, a gentle smile on her lips. "Even in death, I'd still love you."
Daryl retrieves a matching necklace from his pocket, placing it around his own neck. He pulls her close, holding her tightly against him as they revel in the profound bond that unites them, cherishing each other's presence with an embrace that speaks volumes of their love and commitment.
A sudden crashing noise echoes through the building, causing Madeleine and Daryl to exchange a quick glance before swiftly grabbing their weapons. Gripping her sword tightly, Madeleine moves to follow Daryl, who's leading the way with his crossbow raised, ready for confrontation. They navigate the corridors cautiously, the distant banging growing louder as they approach a particular room.
As they draw nearer, Madeleine notices through the clear glass panel a woman walker stumbling inside the room. Just as she focuses on the silhouette of a smaller figure, she hesitates, an unexpected pang of recognition flashing through her mind. Briefly, she studies the figure, the familiarity of the movements etching a faint trace of emotion on her face, before turning away and stepping back into the shadows of the hallway.
Daryl, keeping his focus forward, hears Madeleine retreating behind him but doesn't look back. He approaches the door cautiously, preparing to confront the walkers lurking inside. With precision, he opens the door, revealing the advancing figures, one larger and one smaller.
Without hesitation, he takes aim and releases an arrow, quickly dispatching the larger walker before swiftly moving to eliminate the smaller one with his knife. With practiced ease, he secures the knife back onto his belt and slings the crossbow over his shoulder. In one smooth motion, he hoists the walkers onto his shoulders and carries them outside, positioning them a distance away.
As Daryl searches for something flammable, he remains unaware of Madeleine watching him intently through the window. He rummages through the debris, eventually spotting a bottle of booze. His eyes light up with a small glimmer of success as he seizes the find. Igniting the fire with the flammable liquid, he places the two walkers inside, watching as the flames consume them.
Unbeknownst to Daryl, Madeleine observes the scene from the room. Their eyes meet briefly, and she gives him a subtle, thankful smile. Daryl, catching her expression, offers a soft nod in return. Once he's done, he turns back to head toward the room, without a word, he pulls her into a tight hug, the silent gesture speaking volumes.
☠︎☠︎☠︎☠︎☠︎☠︎☠︎☠︎☠︎☠︎☠︎
The morning light filters through the grimy windows, casting a faint glow on the desolate surroundings. Madeleine, Daryl, and the rest of the group gather their weapons, their faces etched with determination and caution. They share silent glances, a silent understanding passing between them, before embarking on their quest for sustenance.
With quiet steps, they navigate the halls, their movements calculated to avoid alerting any potential threats lurking in the shadows. Madeleine secures her sword across her back, a sense of readiness emanating from her posture.
Daryl, ever the strategist, proposes a plan. "That car was headed downtown. I say we get up in one of the tall ones, get ourselves a view, see what we see."
His wife nods in agreement, silently acknowledging the validity of his suggestion. She observes as Daryl hoists a bag of supplies over his shoulder, prepared for whatever challenges they might encounter.
"We can stay close to the buildings and keep quiet, but sooner or later, we're gonna be drawing 'em," Madeleine notes, her voice firm and resolute. She's focused on the potential risks they might face, the reality of their situation evident in her words.
With a mutual understanding, they exit the building, treading cautiously down the desolate street. Each step is calculated, mindful of the walkers lingering in the vicinity. They proceed with caution, maintaining a low profile, aiming not to draw any undue attention.
As they draw closer to a towering structure, Daryl takes the lead, peeking around the corner with a practiced eye. His gaze shifts to Madeleine, silently exchanging information and strategies with his wife. Their unspoken communication speaks volumes, a testament to their time of surviving in this world together.
As they stand at the edge of the dilapidated building, Madeleine and Daryl survey the towering structure before them. "We can get up there."Madeleine cautiously peeks around the corner, scanning the surroundings for any sign of danger. "There's a bridge," Daryl points out, gesturing toward the structure in the distance, prompting Madeleine to take note of the roaming walkers in the area.
"How should we do this? Cover my back and I'll take care of them?" Madeleine suggests, her eyes focused on the walkers, calculating their numbers and movements. Daryl places his bag on the ground, retrieving a book from inside. "That'll be easier." Madeleine raises an eyebrow at his choice, but he quickly sets the paper ablaze and hurls it towards the walkers, diverting their attention away.
With the distraction in place, they dash around the corner, encountering a lone walker. Daryl swiftly dispatches it with an arrow, retrieved by Madeleine before they dart into the building, adrenaline surging through their veins. The inside is a labyrinth of shadows, its dark corridors an ominous contrast to the daylight outside.
As they navigate through the building's interior, they encounter more walkers, hidden within body bags. Madeleine and Daryl unsheathe their knives, swiftly dispatching the undead threats one by one. Amidst the gory chaos, they search for any potential weapons or supplies left behind, scavenging what they can amidst the eerie atmosphere.
Their hearts race as they press forward, alert for any signs of danger lurking in the shadows. Madeleine and Daryl maintain their focus and precision, their coordinated movements a testament to their survival instincts and training in the face of the relentless undead. Each step deeper into the building carries with it a mix of anticipation and caution, knowing that at any moment, they might encounter more than they bargained for.
Daryl shakes his head, his eyes fixated on the walkers encased within the confines of the closed tent. "Some days, I don't know what the hell to think."
Madeleine passes the retrieved arrow to him, and he secures it, their careful steps avoiding the tent as they move toward the door. Madeleine attempts to open it, but a chain on the other side prevents it from budging. Without hesitation, she unsheathes her sword and slides it under the door, unlatching the lock. Once she manages to get it open, she swiftly climbs inside.
As Daryl begins to follow her into the room, she turns and hands him his bag and crossbow. "Good thing we skipped lunch," Madeleine remarks with a dry sense of humor as Daryl crawls through the opening. Once both are inside, they move toward another door.
Daryl cautiously opens it, revealing an empty room. Madeleine's attention is drawn to a window, through which she peers, taking in the sight of the devastated city they once called home. The dilapidated buildings, the eerie silence, and the haunting reminders of their former lives create a poignant contrast to their current reality.
"How did we get here?" Madeleine's question lingers in the air, a reflection of the uncertainty haunting them all.
Daryl shakes his head, his expression revealing a mix of resignation and acceptance. "Mm-mm. We just did."
Turning to face him, Madeleine's anxiety is palpable. "Where do you think Carol went?"
"She'll come back. She always does," Daryl replies with a hint of reassurance, though his own uncertainty about Carol's absence remains unspoken.
Madeleine, wrestling with her concern for Carol, bites her lip nervously. "You still haven't asked her what happened, have you? Tyreese told me about the girls."
Daryl acknowledges her words with a slow nod. "Yeah, I know what happened. They ain't here."
Her concern deepening, Madeleine shakes her head at his apparent dismissal. "It was worse than that. She doesn't want to talk to anyone about it, but she would talk to you. You're her friend, and she really needs you." However, Daryl avoids meeting her gaze, instead peering out of the window with narrowed eyes. Sensing something might be off, Madeleine turns to join him in examining the surroundings. "You see something?"
"I don't know. Hand me the rifle." Madeleine fetches the rifle, finding it oddly displayed on the wall. Daryl takes it, his eyes scanning the area through the rifle's scope. "Right there." He points as Madeleine peers through the scope. "It's been there a while."
Acknowledging his observation, Madeleine lowers the rifle. "Definitely one of 'em."
"It's definitely some kind of lead."
Madeleine sets down the water dispenser, her gaze following Daryl's as he stares intently at the peculiar painting on the wall. A smile tugs at her lips, amused by his contemplative expression.
"What?" Madeleine questions with a teasing grin, observing Daryl's focused scrutiny of the artwork.
Daryl gestures at the painting, and as Madeleine takes a sip of water, he reaches out for it gratefully when she offers it to him. His arm naturally slips around her shoulder, drawing her close as they both continue to contemplate the eccentric artwork.
"I bet this cost some rich prick a lot of money. Looks like a dog sat in paint, wiped its ass all over the place," Daryl comments with his signature straightforwardness, prompting a chuckle from Madeleine.
"You're not wrong," she agrees with a laugh, playfully resting a hand on his chest while leaning her head on his shoulder. "That's quite the insightful analysis, Mr. Dixon. How much would you buy it for?"
Daryl grins down at her, his eyes softening. "I'd take the dog instead."
Their laughter echoes in the room as they both pull away, readying themselves to leave. Madeleine reaches for her rifle, preparing to crawl out, but as she does, her attention is captured by a boy wielding a gun pointed in their direction. An exasperated eye roll accompanies her stand-up, and she locks eyes with the boy, Daryl following closely behind her, his expression guarded as the boy directs the gun between both of them.
The boy stands, holding the gun with trembling hands, directing his shaky aim between Daryl and Madeleine. His demeanor is assertive yet riddled with unease. "Get up. Hands up, both of you. Lay down your weapons."