Tour Guide ➣ Carl Grimes

33. Animals and Embarrassment

He came every day. Daryl didn't know what time it was, only basing his clock on the click of the door opening. But every day that man came inside his new home. His cell. That's what it was, Daryl thought. It was a dark, damp, cement room, fit only for an animal. Fit for him.

Whenever the man came, Daryl refused to name him even in his own head, he would play that song. That horrible, mocking song. The first time they played it was when he'd first been thrown in the cell. That was when he still felt like fighting. Glenn had just died, something Daryl knew was his own fault, and all he could do was bang his beaten body against the metal door that separated him from all the other animals. But after a few weeks, or maybe days, Daryl couldn't fight anymore.

He knew he was going to die in there. They only fed him one sandwich a day and he shivered with each bite. It wasn't even the food he hated most, but the cold. He kept his bare body curled up in the corner of the cell, trying desperately to hold in what little heat he could produce. The cement around him was stiff and moist, mixing with what he could only assume was his own sweat and clammy skin.

For the first few days, all he thought of was showering. He dreamt of it in his sleep, he wanted it so badly. He thought maybe, if he smelt bad enough, they would let him in the shower, even for a quick rinse. Daryl had laughed a sad laugh to himself the first time he smelled his own stench. That was the first time he realized how long he'd been there.

Before the dreams came, though, he had nightmares. He wasn't always asleep when they happened, but that was the only way he could describe it. He thought about the line-up and Glenn. Over and over he replayed the image of his, who had been so very young, falling to the ground, his face unrecognizable among the bits of fallen flesh and brain matter. He thought about what would have happened if he'd just stayed still, if he'd learned to just control himself. His stupid, stupid self.

He couldn't not think about Hannah. Among the images of bloodshed, he would get glimpses of the small girl's wide, wet eyes, looking to him for answers. She'd looked at him when Negan brought her up in front of them. She'd silently begged him to do something, anything, to save them. To save her. But he just sat there, watching. And yet, with as much time as he now had to think about it, Daryl decided that was the one thing he didn't feel guilty for. If he had moved an inch or breathed a little too loudly, Negan would have killed her. Or Carl. Or Rick. And then Daryl would have even more blood on his hands.

Negan called him her dad. He hadn't heard it in the moment, he was too busy being shoved into the van, but now that he had time to think it over, Daryl was sure it had been said.

"Scarface, what's dad's name?"

He fumed at the thought of that ugly name. He could remember the look on the kid's face when he'd said it the first time. She'd looked so hurt, so embarrassed. She didn't deserve that, not her. She deserved a life of happiness, of ease. He'd heard the way Carl answered Negan's question for her, filling in when she was too worn out to speak. That's what Daryl wanted for her. He knew Carl loved her. It was never really a secret. At first, he felt weird about it, like he was angry and nervous all wrapped into one. Finally, he realized what it was; he was feeling protective. But who was he, Daryl thought, to feel the need to protect some random kid? Sure, he knew how boys Carl's age were, he'd been one himself, but it's not like he was her father. Not really. Even Before, when girls would get pregnancy scares, neither of them even considered that he'd take on the dad role. It was out of the question. Daryl had no experience, nothing to base it on. Hannah deserved someone better than him as a dad.

Sometimes though, he liked to think about if things were different. If he wasn't him, and the world around them wasn't as shitty as it was, maybe he could be something to her. Not a father, he was sure she'd never think of him that way, but at least someone important. Maybe they could be a family. And Daryl knew, he would always protect his family.