Asperity - Daryl Dixon

XVII

Vanessa lay on the cold floor of the dimly lit room, the darkness surrounding her both physically and metaphorically. She lost track of time. Days or weeks had passed since she and Carol had descended into the lower levels of the prison, their refuge now a battleground against the relentless tide of walkers. They fought again and again, killing walkers until they couldn't anymore. They found a room they could hide in and they dragged themselves in it, they were both in opposite side of the room in case one of them would die and turn, the other would have time to realize it and maybe be able to try to defend herself.

Weakened and feeling the life drain from her, Vanessa, laying on her side on the floor, traced the empty space on her wrist where Daryl's bracelet once adorned her. It was gone, lost in the chaos of their struggle. A tear escaped her eye as thoughts of Daryl flooded her mind. That was it, she was going to die here and she knew it, she just wished she would have spent more time with the group, especially Daryl. Oh how she liked him, she was realizing it now that she thought she'd never see him again, she loved the moments they spent together, she loved the way he acted with her, she loved his redneck accent, she loved his grumpiness, she loved him. Vanessa was completely and utterly in love with Daryl Dixon and she only realized it now, on her deathbed.
In this desperate moment, she realized the depth of her feelings for him, a love that might never be expressed.

Meanwhile, Daryl, fueled by a stubborn refusal to accept Vanessa's presumed death, continued clearing the lower levels alongside Carl and Oscar. The grief within him manifested as aggression, a palpable tension that permeated the air. The group had prepared four graves, one for Lori, who died giving birth, and three for those missing—T-Dog, Carol, and Vanessa. Daryl, however, avoided acknowledging Vanessa's grave, his sole focus on finding her alive.

He was looking around him while talking with Carl and sharing stories about their respective mothers. The boy had to shot her mother in the head so she wouldn't turn.

Amidst this grim task, a discovery hinted at their fate. Daryl shot a walker and noticed a familiar knife protruding from its throat—a knife that belonged to Carol. Connecting the dots, he realized that Carol and the others had been in this area. His heart sank further when he found Vanessa's bracelet discarded on the floor. The very bracelet he had given her, a symbol of the bond that had grown between them.

Unable to bear the weight of these revelations, Daryl sat in the corridor, stabbing the floor in frustration. In the meantime, Carl and Oscar had left him. The door ahead hinted at movement, and he braced himself for what lay beyond—a room filled with the possibility of turning loved ones. He started to pace the corridor again and again, breathing heavily. With reluctant determination, he flung the door open, his knife poised for the worst.

To his shock, Carol met his gaze, her face stained with blood. A glimmer of consciousness remained in her eyes. Daryl's heart raced, his anxiety momentarily halted. Then, his eyes shifted, and there she was—Vanessa. Lying on the floor, battered and bloodied, she appeared lifeless. But Daryl's keen observation caught the subtle rise and fall of her chest, the fragile rhythm of survival. Relief flooded him, and unbidden tears escaped his eyes.

In a moment that encapsulated the complexity of emotions, Daryl, overwhelmed by both relief and concern, found a way to hold both women. Carol, partially conscious, clung to his back while he cradled Vanessa in his arms. Silent tears rolled down his face as he checked every detail, every sign that assured him they were still alive. The weight of uncertainty began to lift, replaced by the threads of hope woven into the fabric of this desperate and fractured world.

~~~

Awakening in the cold steel confines of a cell, Vanessa found herself next to Carol. Relief washed over her as she saw Daryl walking toward them, his face a mix of concern and joy. "Hell, ya scared the shit outta me, princess. Don't ya dare do that again," he chided, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. Vanessa weakly chuckled, "Ok boss, I'll try not to put myself in a near-death situation again." Daryl smiled, his eyes reflecting a depth of emotion beyond words. He handed her a familiar object—a small token that held significant meaning. "Found that on my search. Thought ya might want it," he said, offering her the bracelet she thought she had lost forever. Vanessa's eyes lit up with gratitude as she held out her wrist, and Daryl delicately fastened the bracelet in place. "I'll get Rick now that yer both awake and conscious," he said, squeezing Vanessa's hand before leaving.

Vanessa looked across to Carol, a genuine smile on her face. "I'm glad you're okay," she expressed, her eyes reflecting the sincerity of her words. Carol reciprocated the sentiment, her smile echoing a mix of relief and shared emotions. "I should be saying that. We really thought we lost you for a moment."

Vanessa nodded in acknowledgment. "Well, I always liked adrenaline," she teased, attempting to lighten the mood. Carol chuckled, "Maybe we should find another way for you to experience it. One that wouldn't get you killed."

Vanessa winked playfully. "Where would be the fun in that?" she quipped, embracing the joy of the banter. However, her playful demeanor shifted as she approached Carol. "But seriously, I'm glad you're okay. I was scared I would turn and kill you in that cell. Glad to see I didn't."

Carol reciprocated the sincerity, wrapping her arms around Vanessa in a comforting hug. "Well, glad to see you didn't, too," she replied softly. In that moment, the two women shared a connection that surpassed the chaos of their recent ordeal. The bond they forged in the face of danger drew them closer, creating a memory etched with relief and gratitude.

In this small, shared moment of vulnerability and reassurance, Vanessa and Carol found solace in the fact that, against the odds, they had both made it through. The threat of losing each other had momentarily dissipated, replaced by a sense of shared strength and resilience.

~~~

Daryl found Rick, Carl, and a woman with dreadlocks discussing matters in a cell. "Y'all come on in here," he called. "Everything alright?" Rick inquired. "Yer gonna wanna see this," Daryl replied. As they entered, Rick secured a sword and assured the woman they would keep her safe. "We'll keep this safe and sound. The doors are all locked. You'll be safe here. And we can treat that," Rick pointed to her injuries. The woman retorted, "I didn't ask for your help." Rick simply replied, "Doesn't matter, can't let you leave." before locking the cell door.

As Rick and Daryl left the room, they were greeted by the sight of Vanessa and Carol alive. Rick, overcome with emotion, embraced them both. "Thank God. Thank God," he uttered, the weight of worry lifted. Carl, too, hugged Vanessa tightly, expressing his relief. "We thought you were dead! We even dug you a grave!" he exclaimed, his voice muffled by Vanessa's hair. She tried to inject a note of cheer, even if she was still hurting both physically and emotionally, reliving T-dog's death. "Don't you remember we have a race to make? I wouldn't have let you win by default. Too easy." After Carl, Hershel joined in the reunion, hugging Carol and Vanessa and seeking an explanation. "How ?" Daryl filled in the details, explaining how they had fought their way into a cell, eventually passing out from exhaustion and dehydration. "Poor things fought their way into a cell. Must have passed out. Dehydrated."

Beth then arrived, cradling a small baby in her arms. The atmosphere shifted as Rick's gaze conveyed the heavy news—Lori hadn't made it. Tears welled up in both Carol and Rick's eyes, and Vanessa joined them, mourning the loss of a friend who had become family. Vanessa then got closer to the baby and looked at Daryl who was standing just beside it.
Daryl, holding back his own emotions, whispered, "Lil ass kicker. That's what suits her best if ya ask me." Vanessa managed a tearful smile, taking the baby into her arms and standing beside Carl, putting an arm on his shoulder, holding him and his sister close, a silent pillar of support for the grieving family.

After the others left, Daryl and Vanessa remained in the cell, the weight of recent events sinking in. She ran into his arms, seeking solace in the one person who had become her anchor in this chaotic world. Daryl held her as close as he possibly could, leaving no room for doubt or distance. "Ya scared me to death, princess," he confessed, his eyes reflecting the turmoil of the past days and holding back tears that were threatening to spill. "I know, I'm sorry Dare. We got overran and T-dog... he didn't make it. I couldn't save him. I'm sorry." Vanessa met his gaze, and he gently cupped her face in his hands. "Don't apologize, baby. It's not yer fault. Look at yerself and the state yer in. Ya did what you could to survive. If I came in a few hours later, both ye and Carol probably wouldn't have made it. So don't overthink, okay?" Vanessa nodded slowly, finding comfort in Daryl's embrace. He continued to stroke her back, and as he pressed a tender kiss to her forehead, he whispered, "Everything will be alright now. I'll make sure of it." In that moment, amid the turmoil and sorrow, a new resolve was born—an unspoken promise of protection and enduring connection.