my tears ricochet

Chapter Seventeen

The illusion of the diner haunted Daryl's dreams constantly, looping old memories of truck stop visits until they blurred into one, Andrea and Amy sitting at the counter on a road trip somewhere together, Dale tucked in the corner with a hazy outline of a wife.

Sometimes he can almost see Merle through the door standing just outside, half turned away with a cloud of smoke hanging over his head. Daryl tries clinging to those dreams the most, desperate for one more minute with his brother. But, someone would cough and shuffle to the side and he'd be jarred awake, eyes jumping to check for dangers.

He had told Ivy that no one lived forever but he wanted to go as far as he could before the end was breathing down his neck.

He also wanted to make sure Ivy got to that edge of the universe in one piece.

It was why he had made an effort to keep his personal feelings about the prison silent. Walls were walls and he could see the potential in the yard, a hypothetical canal bringing water to their front door, and an opportunity to settle into a space without waiting to turn on their heels and run. Every single one of them is exhausted and barely clinging to sanity.

The cost of obtaining the prison might be just bullets if they were lucky with the significant possibility in restocking their supplies. If they failed, it would have been for nothing. More bodies to either bury or leave behind, another avenue of hope sealed tight.

Rick kept up a steady stream of chatter, pointing at the barbed wire like it was a personal gift from God and not a personal nightmare ripped right out of Daryl's childhood.

He had been fifteen years old when Merle first got arrested and charged. Everything prior to that moment had been child's play, a score card of petty offences, nothing more than a smack against the wrist from juvenile court. Merle had done roadside cleaning service and all the things the boys in their neighbourhood had done until the record got big enough to be labeled serious. Prison was a different world and Daryl had seen it from the outside, passing through the checkpoints and waiting to see the first flash of his brother through the sea of uniforms.

Merle always said prison was nothing but a free place to sleep and a decent meal but Daryl had seen the slow changes in the times between different sentences. The agitation turning into anger, his brother more like their father than ever before.

Everyone he had ever known growing up kept one foot in a prison. It was how it always was. A boy grew up and had to serve the time for it.

Daryl had skated by barely avoiding the same sentencing.

It had taken less than ten minutes to secure the front lawn and suddenly green grass was turning into a home, the men discussing crop potentials, Rick scanning the fence lines for any gaps in the wire. Daryl didn't want to turn a prison into a place of refuge but the options were limited. Lori was slowing down and he couldn't blame her, and the rest were exhausted from looking over their shoulders, making harder decisions on how to keep going.

Ivy needed a home, as insufficient as it was. It was a different sight, looking up at it like they had once the farm house, and he had seen the shift in her expression as she regarded it. He had seen traces of that emotion on her face before, usually when he caught her scrubbing her hands raw and had to force her to drop the soap and leave her skin be.

Fire burned in scattered piles around the lawn, the group breaking into portions as they leaned against the shadow of the prison. He kept a small one burning and Ivy sat opposite, knees tucked to her chest, hands fidgeting. Daryl checked her fingers for signs of redness when he leaned over to prod the fire a bit, casting sparks up into the air with a hard poke of a stick. "How long do we stay here?" Ivy asked Daryl, tucking her hands into the sleeve of her sweater, unfooled by his stretch.