Stray // Daryl Dixon

Drowning on Dry Land

A small comment before you start this chapter. I don't ever do this but I recommend listening to the song Trauma by NF. I found the song this morning and it inspired the entire chapter right there. If you want your feelings hurt while reading, the entire song is what I imagine Daryl's thoughts would be xx

~ Daryl's Point of View ~

I spun around in the midst of the heavy smoke, looking for any remaining Saviours. I had Maggie to my right, and Carol to my left. If it weren't for them showing up when they did then Carl would be dead as well. Our plan to kill Negan and the Saviours went south when our deal with the Garbage dwellers got double-crossed.

My head jerked around behind us, hearing Rick call out for Michonne. The tone of his voice told me it ain't a call of relief but instead desperation. We took off after him immediately, my heart hammering in my chest at the idea of losing another one of us. My feet hit the pavement with a thud, Carol and Maggie not far behind me.

We rounded the street, seeing a small group of people already standing with their weapons drawn. Glenn, Carl, Tara, Gabriel, Morgan, Rick. They all stood utterly still. I walked up slowly, coming around the other side of Rick with my crossbow raised. My heart stopped beating as I stared at her. Every ounce of air I had left in my lungs escaped with that single glance. It couldn't be. Her eyes darted toward me, they were so similar to the ones I used to know. I felt my knees buckle, I needed to take a step back. "Red." I breathed out the only name I could think of.

Their entire conversation was drowned out in my head. I couldn't tear my eyes away from her, and I wondered if everyone else felt as insane as I did. From my peripheral vision, I could see Rick stepping closer to her, clearly shouting. Her one hand raised up in surrender, the other still firmly holding Michonne on her feet. That's when I saw the crowbar. I stumbled again, the tears welling up in my eyes.

I narrowed in on her, finding it hard to keep my crossbow pointed at the woman's face. She pulled down her bandana before pushing off her hood and revealing her face. Her words finally hit my ears. "My name is Nora Jensen. I'm looking for my cousin Scarlett Jensen. Do you know her?"

My entire world shattered all over again.

I was out of there in a heartbeat, the last thing I was able to hear was Rick calling for someone to get Linc. I was two-stepping it up our house's porch steps before I had the time to process what was going on. Before I knew it I was pacing around our-- my bedroom, my hands clumping up in my hair and tugging to feel something other than this. I don't even know what I was feeling, I was never good at that shit anyway. It had always been better to lock it down, it used to be so easy before.

I stopped for a moment as I lit up a cigarette, walking over to the dresser. I picked up the black-and-white photo Carol had found a frame for. Aaron gave me the picture after everything, one of the few he held onto from before. My thumb glided over her face. The picture was taken at that moment we had been caught in the rain storm, Aaron still watching us from the woods at the time. I didn't need to look at the photo to remember her arms sprawled out in the air, a large smile beaming on her face like our terrible situation wasn't so bad because at least we finally had some rain. I missed that feeling, the only one I could ever identify apart from anger. Being happy that she was happy.

My eyes then trailed up to the little holding rack I had nailed to the wall. My arm reached up without me even having to think about it, and I grabbed ahold of her crowbar. The crowbar I had given her. The same crowbar that girl now had in her backpack. I gripped the metal tight in my hands, watching the whites of my knuckles as I twisted my hands over the cold bar. I could feel the anger begin to explode inside my chest again. The tears unwillingly fell from my eyes as I stared down at my reflection in the mirror on the vanity. I shouted so loud that I could feel it scratch against my vocal cords. My arms swung over my head and came down so hard on the glass that even the frame split in two.