Just Gone

56: A Town Called Woodbury

~ P R I S O N ~

Daryl placed his crossbow on the table and nodded at Beth who was holding the baby.

"How'd it go?" T-Dog asked.

Daryl shrugged, cracking and popping his knuckles, "fine, took out a few. Need to do a sweep of the bodies later, it's a mess. How's your foot?"

"Mild sprain, it's better already."

"Stay off your feet and it will be even better tomorrow," Hershel piped in.

Daryl glanced at the baby without moving his head, eyeing its scrunched face and flailing arms before leaving to the cell block.

What they had done, but Daryl didn't bring up, was collect Jimmy's and Lori's bodies. Though he was sure they knew about it. After sweeping the area and taking out Walkers, Daryl sent Carl back to the cell block without saying why. But the boy had given him a long look. Daryl was sure he knew too.

Daryl, Oscar, and Guillermo collected and wrapped Jimmy and Lori before placing them outside, awaiting the burial. Axel hadn't finished the last grave so Oscar went to help.

After walking up the steps, Daryl carefully placed his crossbow on the floor before dropping onto Toby's mattress, not caring enough to step over onto his. Draping his arm over his eyes to block out the light, Daryl tried to rest, just for a few minutes.

It had been hard to quiet his mind the whole day, reeling with thoughts of what to do, how to do it, taking care of the baby, of Toby, of Carl, everyone. Then there was Rick.

Daryl sighed, still unable to clear his mind from the business of tasks. He'd hoped to get a read on Carl, to really check on him while they cleared the tombs. Daryl wasn't sure if Carl was acting too normal, he was sad, but not crying, quiet, but not distant. Should he be more upset? Should he carry on normal things?

What's even normal anymore?

Daryl needed to check on Toby next. He should have first, but felt as if he needed time to process what to say and how to help her. She'd been trapped in a terrible position, locked up with a dying man. He hadn't wanted to lessen what she'd been through, but Daryl needed to be sure Carl wasn't in any kind of danger. The kid watched his mother being torn open before having to shoot her, then his father . . .

Daryl remembered the dark, horrible places his mind went after his own mother died, he'd never even seen the body, and wasn't sure if he'd ever liked the woman. He couldn't imagine the comparison with Carl.

Daryl was exhausted, but so energetic with everything needing to be done. That was why he pushed Toby off, not feeling proud of it, and knew she'd probably taken his words too literally when they'd spoken. Daryl just needed a bit of space from her to get things done, lessen the load in his mind so he could actually be helpful to her, instead of losing his temper like he'd end up doing anyway.

Five minutes. He told himself, just five minutes and get back to it.

But what next? Was it time to check on Toby, talk to her about what happened? If she ever wanted to. Or would it be time to bury the bodies, to have another funeral? Or would they want to get the Walkers cleared out and check a fifth time for breaches? Or was it time to check on Rick, be sure he hadn't gotten himself killed or just plain killed himself?

The loud sounds of metal creaking and clanging roused Daryl from rest. He blinked rapidly and stood to examine the area. He was the only one around. Daryl felt relieved, not wanting anyone to see how tired he was, the others needed more rest than he did, he shouldn't have been lying around.