Deadland

Chapter 43- Jean Vest

(TW!! Mentions of abuse, drug usage, slight y/n descriptions, being shot, and mentions of past overdosage!!) 

I feel a tear form in my eye as Daryl comes back without Merle and blood on his knife. 

"Fuck..." I whisper, resting my elbows on my knees and putting my face in my hands. 

Sometimes I forget I've known Merle for 10 years. Yes, we were never close but it's easy to forget that he beat the shit out of Nick when he found out about Nick beating me. 

Merle also always got me my drugs, he was my plug and usually discounted me because I was "hot", which I used to my advantage. 

Daryl doesn't say anything. He's standing, leaning up against the wall, looking down at me. 

I sigh and move my face out of my hands but keep my hands covering my mouth. I honestly don't really know how to feel.

I feel terrible for Daryl but I also hate Merle. I feel awful to not care that he's dead but I do care. I'm extremely conflicted. 

"I'm not gonna say... you know... 'I'm so sorry for your loss.' Or whatever that sappy shit is but... jesus I can't imagine what that must've felt like to... to kill your own sibling." I groan slightly. The thought of me having to kill Alyssa makes my stomach churn. 

Daryl bites his lip slightly and nods but doesn't respond. I exhale and stand up, walking over to him and standing in front of him. 

The door of his cell is open, and anyone can hear us, but everyone is outside, preparing for the war. 

"I'm sorry." I pause for a moment. I realize how fake my voice sounds. I say my words very monotone, very un-sorry like. "I swear I meant that." 

Daryl scoffs, "I know. I can see it in your eyes." I can feel myself blush slightly. "Shut up." I mumble, trying to hide my smile. 

Daryl chuckles and looks out of the cell door; his arms are crossed over his chest. 

I look at my feet, "Mind if I change the subject?" Daryl shakes his head very slightly and looks at me through his eyebrows. I run a finger through my hair, "Is it bad I'm actually nervous about the war?" I pause for a moment, not for any response of Daryl's but to try and find the right words. 

Anxiety creeps through my bloodstream and fills my brain all the way down to my toes. I chew on my cheek nervously, "Alyssa's so... Alyssa. She shot one guy and giggled about it. I just...I don't know. I'm worried that she's gonna feel too bad or some shit and she's not gonna...fight." 

Daryl nods, "She'll fight for you. For Carl. If she's not fighting for herself or the prison, she'll be fighting to keep you alive. She loves you more than anything in this world." Daryl straightens up off of the wall and walks over to me. 

"She's strong. I have no doubt in my mind she'll be fine." I smile lightly and nod. 

"Adrian!" A voice comes from the first floor of the cell block. I scoff, "Speak of the devil." Daryl steps out of the way and lets me walk off without saying a word. 

As I walk down the steps, I still feel an electric shock between Daryl and I. It's weird, I don't know if I've felt this way about a boyfriend- Glenn doesn't count. We never dated. 

Alyssa is standing at the bottom of the steps, looking at me with nervous eyes. 

"Hey," I say softly, quickening my pace and putting both of my hands on her shoulders. "What's wrong?" She sighs, "I know I said I wanted to fight but... I'm scared. What if you die... what if I die?" Although I'm a little nervous for the war as well, I put on a poker face and smile a close-mouthed smile.