𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝔽𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 | Daryl Dixon

40 | REBUILDING

Bringing another full duffel bag out to the truck, her breath clouded into a thin mist as it left her parted lips, mixing with the fog that already resided in the cool, early morning air.

Hardly passed dawn, the blue sky was barely illuminated by the sun's light, hiding it behind a thick cloud that moved with the chilly breeze. Condensation fogged up the moss and the grass blades sticking out of the thin gaps between the paving, as if trying to claw their way out of the very ground they grew from.

Beth brought over more bags, piling them up in the truck bed with the others. Tori patted the blonde girl's shoulder as she walked behind her, headed for her man in angel wings while he sat on the ground, going through his things.

Daryl's head turned when he felt her presence behind him, his hands pausing their fiddling with the bolts he held, setting them aside. Tori reached her gloved hand out to him with a gentle smile. He looked at her hand before meeting her eyes, then sliding his fingers between hers as he lifted himself off the ground.

Her gloves were grey and fingerless, bobbles of lint hanging off the woollen materiel. Thin enough that she could feel the warmth of his palm against hers. It made her forget about the cold morning air, staying in his eyes like she belonged there.

"You good?" she quietly asked, keeping her hand in his.

The ends of his scraggly brown hair poked his forehead as he nodded with a small hum of a yes. "Forgot to say thanks... For helping me yesterday. And last night."

Tori lightly shook her head, squeezing his hand. "I don't need a thanks," she whispered, a sad smile ghosting her lips for a second.

They buried Merle's body nearby where they'd found him. Finding a quiet and clear part of the field, Daryl used a rusty shovel found in the feed store to dig the grave while Tori cleared the field of the walkers, giving Daryl time to say goodbye to his brother the way he needed to. She stood beside him once the grave was filled, holding his hand while he silently cried.

Then, they got back to the prison by dark. Michonne was there after Merle let her go earlier in the day, and everyone was quiet. They seemed to just know what had happened the moment they saw Daryl and Tori returning without Merle, without the younger Dixon looking up from the ground as he walked past everyone. Tori had pulled everyone together, giving them a brief rundown of what happened, what Merle had done for them by going after the Governor's men alone. After, she went right up to the cell Daryl had collapsed in, and silently lay down beside him, despite the small mattress.

Her arm wrapped around his middle, and his head rested on her shoulder while she ran her hand through his hair. In all the months they were together, Daryl was normally the one to hold Tori while they slept. He liked it better that way, as he got to feel her, feel like he was protecting her from the dangers that could have been lurking in the dark. But the way she held him last night felt perfect, like she knew what he needed there and then. That was just how she was – knowing him better than he did.

Neither of them spoke a word as they lay there together, and Daryl had fallen asleep with tears in his eyes. Formed by a combination of the loss of his big brother, and the relief of lying beside Tori again, at last.

"You know, my brother... He never did anythin' like that his whole life," Daryl mumbled.

"He gave us a chance," Tori offered as a comfort. It worked, his lips pressing into a line, curled at the corners for a split second.

She lightly tugged on his hand, and they headed over to the others as they finished packing up the bags. The bed of her truck was full, as were the trunks of the other two cars. Every item, every piece of clothing, every food stuff or water bottle they owned, all shoved into the three vehicles to be driven out into the woods to hide.