Stray // Daryl Dixon

Judgment Day

 Lincoln led me into a monstrosity of a house. All of the houses were. A community they had worked hard to keep untouched by the tarnished world outside of these walls. I had fallen into his arms when their leader, Rick, had called for him, but I had collapsed even further when he had told me about Scar. I had been too late. Only a few months ago I had seen her in passing, alive and well, hoping to find her again. Within seconds she had slipped from my fingertips. By now I was used to losing people, but to know that I was this close to seeing her again ripped a different kind of hole in my chest.

Lincoln hadn't informed me of any of the details of what had happened to her in the short amount of time since I last spotted them. He was allowing me to process her being gone first. A part of me wished he would just rip off the band-aid all at once instead. But Linc was exactly how I remembered him to be; caring, responsible, and level-headed. He thought that I couldn't handle the information all at once, yet I believe that he was the one that wasn't ready to tell me yet. So I let it be for now.

"This is our house, a few of us share it. It's where you'll be staying as well," he said, leading me through the living room to the stairs up to the top-floor bedrooms. I followed behind quietly, taking in my new surroundings. How different this was compared to the single-bedroom corridors of the sanctuary Negan ran. Alexandria felt like a home rather than a residence. "To the left here is mine and Rostia's room," Lincoln pointed to the open door by the top of the stairs. I hadn't formally met anyone yet, but I assumed she was one of the women that had their weapons drawn on me earlier.

"The hell is she doing in here!" a voice boomed from the end of the hall, causing both of our heads to whip toward them in unison. It was the man that had looked at me outside with some kind of awe on his face. His long, dark chocolate brown hair shook out of his eyes, revealing that he had been crying, as he raised a pointer finger toward me.

"Daryl--" Linc tried to calm him, stepping in front of me protectively.

"Linc, I don't care who she is! She ain't staying in this house!" his voice only became deeper and louder as he stared daggers at me. He was yelling at Linc, but his eyes told me that he was speaking directly to me.

I hadn't even realized that Rick and another woman had come bounding up the stairs upon hearing the shouting. The cropped-haired woman briskly passed us, going straight up to Daryl.

"Hey, it's okay!" she spoke to him softly, kindly. She cupped his cheeks with the palms of her hands.

His arm raised again over her shoulder as he teetered on the balls of his feet unsteadily. "I ain't having her stay in this house!" he repeated.

"She's his family," the woman defended me, trying to get Daryl's anger off of me and onto her. It wasn't until she had said, "She is Scar's family," that he finally looked down at her. I watched as a new swell of tears brimmed in his waterline. "Which means she is our family now too."

Daryl's shoulders slacked, an exhale roughly puffing out of his lungs. He dropped his head, leaning over and picking up his crossbow from the floor. He walked passed the woman, his eyes meeting mine once more as he approached. I held my breath as my stare followed him. "She can stay in here, but I'm not," he seethed, giving me one last glare before turning down the stairs and stomping out of the house.

Rick turned around toward us, rubbing his face in the process, "I'm sorry about that," he exhaled.

I shook my head, "No, it's okay." I accepted the outburst towards me, although I was not completely understanding why it happened in the first place.

"Hi, my name is Carol," the small, short-haired woman finally stepped forward, her hand latching onto mine as she introduced herself, trying to change the subject. A large warm smile covered her face. "It's just that--" her eyes trailed down the stairs to the main door where Daryl just stormed out of.