Stray // Daryl Dixon

Things We Lost in the Fire

Nightfall came quickly. Daryl and I sat on the edge of the wooden porch of the house. My back rested against the far-right banister as Daryl rested against one of the posts that sat not too far from me, our feet only inches apart. I listened to the peaceful sound of the bugs that chimed and chirped back and forth to one another. Daryl had stopped drinking after our fight, but I continued to sip on the jar of moonshine that I had been milking since the afternoon.

"I wish I could feel like this all the time, the world feels lighter for once," I sighed, breaking the silence between us. My focus remained on the darkness that swallowed the tree wholly. "That's bad."

"You're lucky you're a happy drunk," Daryl responded. I looked over at him, watching as he chipped away at the deck with his knife.

"Yeah, I'm lucky. Some people can be real assholes when they drink," I said.

He sighed, "Yeah, I'm a dick when I'm drunk," he admitted, a small smile forming as he looked at me. His eyes then shot away, a thought crossing his mind. It was like for a split second he was battling over it in his head whether to say it or not. "Merle had this dealer. This janky little white guy. A tweaker." He started his story, and I followed along intently. "One day we were over at his house watching TV. Wasn't even noon yet and we were all wasted. Merle was high. We were watching this show and Merle was talking all this dumb stuff about it. And he wouldn't let up, Merle never could. Turns out it was the tweaker's kids' favourite show. And he never sees his kid, so he felt guilty about it or something. So he punches Merle in the face. So I started hitting the tweaker, like, hard. As hard as I can. Then he pulls a gun, and sticks it right here." Daryl raises his hand to his left temple, "He says I'm gonna kill you, bitch. So Merle pulls his gun on him. Everyone's yelling, I'm yelling. I thought I was dead. Over a dumb cartoon about a talking dog." he scoffed, breaking his eye contact with me.

It wasn't a significant story, but it was a story about his life before this and I was intrigued. "How'd you get out of it?" I asked.

"The tweaker punched me in the gut. I puked. They both started laughing and forgot all about it," he let out a breathy sigh, like recalling the situation made him remember how dumb the whole thing was. But I could tell it was much more than that, that was his life. "You wanna know what I was before all of this?" he asked, his eyes trained on me. I remained silent, just listening. "I was just drifting around with Merle... doing whatever he said we were going to be doing that day. I was nobody. Nothing. Some redneck asshole with an even bigger asshole for a brother."

"You miss him don't you?" I asked. I already knew though, I was there when he found him. As much as we all hated Merle, he was still always Daryl's brother. He looked away from me and that was my answer. "I miss Roy. And I miss Ben. I wish you could have met him especially. You would have hated him," I chuckled which gained a laugh out of him as well. "I miss my parents as well. As much as I hate what they did... I thought-- I hoped they'd just live the rest of their life in peace, you know?" my heart hurt as I talked, but it was nice to be able to say these things to someone. Daryl watched me intently, listening. "I thought Ben and I would get back from Atlanta in time for Roy and his wife's baby. And they'd get to be grandparents. And we'd find a way to have birthdays and holidays and summer picnics." I laughed at the thought of it. "How stupid I was at the time for thinking that." I choked on the lump that welled up in my throat. I immediately grabbed the moonshine and took a large gulp to wash the pain down.

"That's how it was supposed to be," Daryl finally responded.

I sighed, looking up at the wooden roof above me trying to blink away the tears, "I wish I could just... change. To not care so much."

"You did. You are not the same girl you were at the CDC. And it's good to care. You make me want to care."

My breath was taken from me for a moment. "It never feels like enough though. I wish I could be more like you. I mean this is the sincerest way possible, but it's like you were made for how things are now," I admitted.

Daryl shook his head, "I'm just used to it, things being ugly. Growing up in a place like this."

"Well, you got away from it."

"I didn't."

"You did," I said firmly, "You have changed too."

"Maybe you got to keep reminding me sometimes," he said like he was asking me to.

"Daryl?" He stared up at me. "You are not a nobody," I did not shy away from him as I said it, "You're a somebody to me," I breathed out. He knew I was right but didn't want to admit it. "One day... I'll no longer be here," I finally said. I had been thinking about that factor for quite a while now. The people I've met, those I love, and the friendships I've created. It wasn't meant to be a selfish thought, but one day will inevitably be my time to go and it will break the hearts of a lot of those that I have grown to love.

Daryl's head instantly whipped up, "Stop." He wanted to cut the thought of that outcome short.

"I'm not the hopeful girl I used to be. My time will come... Glenn's, Rick's, Carol's. Everything in this life is granted, but not time. But you... you're gonna be the last man standing." He stared at me with doubtful eyes. "You are, Daryl Dixon. And you're gonna miss me so badly, but you better not let that kill you."

"What if I don't want to be?" his face contorted like he was giving it all he had to keep it together. "The last man standing that is. What if I don't want to be here if you're not?"

I sucked in a deep breath, catching a tear with my finger before it fell. "You gotta stay who you are now, not who you were. You'll miss me, but you'll be okay. And as for places like this," I looked at our surroundings of the broken down shack, "you have to put it away."

"What if you can't?"

"You have to. Or it kills you." At this point, I don't know if we were talking about his past, or me.

I watched as his chest rose and fell rapidly like the thought of it was too much to bear. In the same way, he wasn't sure if he could leave his past behind, it was so ingrained into his entire being, he couldn't imagine him having to do the same thing for me one day.

"We should go inside," he suggested.

All of a sudden a thought crossed my mind, a grin creeping onto my face, "We should burn it down."

He shook his head and got up from his spot across from me. I watched him as he walked towards the front door, his hand reaching out for the doorknob when he stopped. His head twisted back to me, "We're gonna need more booze."

I laughed, hopping up onto my feet. I followed him eagerly over to the crate of remaining moonshine. Each of us grabbed a jar we began to dump the flammable liquid over every surface of the house. One after another I swung, splashed, and sprayed the carpet, the walls, the god-awful loveseat, everything. Eventually, we made it back out onto the porch, dowsing the cracked wood panels with the final bottle. Daryl led me over to the spot on the driveway we initially stepped out of the woods yesterday.

"You wanna?" he asked as he handed the pack of matches to me.

"Hell, yeah," I smiled, taking them from him.

With one swipe the match lit and he held out one of the newspapers from inside the house for me to ignite. The paper caught fire quickly and Daryl swiftly tossed it onto the porch. As soon as the newspaper landed, a glow of flames burst up, engulfing the porch and burning my cheeks. Daryl picked up our few belongings and we travelled further down the driveway as the house rapidly caught fire. Pisces on the roof began to collapse inwards as the flames peeked through. Once we were a safe enough distance away, we both stopped, turning back to watch it be destroyed.

I looked over at Daryl, the glow from the flames lighting up his face as watched his past crumble away in the ash. "You're not nothing anymore."