𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝔽𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 | Daryl Dixon

58 | WE'RE NOT DEAD

As the sun blared all of its heat down onto the Earth, Tori felt her skin burn. Bare arms, scars on show, hidden only by the layers of sweat and dirt as the days of trekking turned into weeks. The cuts and bruises from the car accident were healing slowly, the bruise on her cheekbone still a dark red, and the small scratches on her face, hands, and knees, still scabbed over. It was her own fault. She wouldn't let them heal.

After all, physical pain was easier to manage than emotional. Blood can be wiped away with a tissue. Loss and suffering, not so much.

Those weeks were not kind; Beth Greene was not the only life lost. In a search for a new place to hole up on their way to Washington, Tyrese was bitten. He was alone when it happened, nobody around to save him in time. By the time they did get to him, it was too late. His body was buried on the side of the road during an early evening, the sun setting over the grave as they made a cross out of sticks. Marking yet another loss.

The ground was bone dry, not so much as a spec of water in sight. The air was too humid, too dry. The sky was a bright blue, which was just disrespectful. It felt dark all the time now, even the stars didn't look like they belonged. Each night since Atlanta, Tori would stare up at them, and will them to stop twinkling.

They'd lost their last vehicle twenty miles back. With sixty miles still to go, they had to push onwards by foot, praying they'd get to their destination before they lost hope altogether. And hope was wearing thin, to say the least. Some moments, she didn't even care about getting to Washington, didn't care about anything. Frankly, she wouldn't have complained if her body gave up on her before they arrived.

It was only the others that kept her going. God knows, she'd have given up a long time ago if it weren't for them. Maggie needed support after losing Beth. Sasha needed help after losing Tyrese and Bob, though she was putting on a brave face, pretending she didn't need anyone.

Some moments, it seemed like even Daryl was ignoring her. Tori would try to be there for him, literally reaching out to hold his hand as they walked, only for him to pull away, settling for walking with his crossbow in his arms. He carried the weight of the weapon the same way he carried the grief of all the losses. On his shoulders, grinding him down to a shell of the man he really was. Tori feared that the longer they stayed on the road, she'd lose more of him until there was nothing left to lose.

The one thing he did talk to her about was Halley. The baby had taken to trusting more of the group now, but when she cried, she cried for either Tori or Daryl. When she was tired, it was either of them she wanted to be held by. And when it was nighttime, darkness all around, and they were sleeping under the stars, Halley wanted them both. So they'd be there for her. Halley would lie in either Tori's lap or Daryl's, whilst the other would sit to the side, letting the girl cling to their hand.

As she walked, Tori had Halley in her arms, the small girl's head rested on her shoulder. She was fast asleep, and Tori was doing her best to keep her sheltered from the beaming sun, by leaning slightly forwards. Her back and legs ached no matter which way she stood, and a wince would leave her lips now and again when she had to adjust her hold on Halley.

Noticing the struggle, Rosita Espinosa came to stand by Tori's side. "You want help?"

"No, I got her," Tori sighed, her voice lacking any conviction, exhaustion making her bones ache. They'd run out of water two days ago, making the heat even more unbearable. "If I try to let go, she'll just start crying again. Thank you, though."

Rosita nodded understandingly, fiddling with the fingerless gloves on her hands. "You know, I think it's great what you're doing with her. You know, finding her, taking care of her even though she's not yours. It's brave."