𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝔽𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 | Daryl Dixon

86 | HEARTBEAT

Without a single cloud to block its way, the sunlight scorched the horizon, casting a field of orange and gold to guide them up the pathway to the Hilltop's tall gates. They walked hand in hand, sharing silent squeezes of reassurance as they approached. Daryl's breaths had been sharp and shallow for the past few minutes; it was like, the moment he knew they were almost at the community, his nerves and excitement for seeing his daughter started to overflow, like water boiling over in a pot.

There was something about just... walking, holding Tori's hand as they approached the gates, that felt so freeing. Sure, they'd spent the past day together, slept in the same bed in a house he was still determined to turn into their home someday. But waking up, walking through the forest with his hand in hers, watching the sun come up... It almost brought a tear to his eye.

The feeling of the breeze against his skin was a simple thing that most days, he wouldn't think to feel. But after days locked away in a concrete cage, the smell of stone and sweat being all he breathed in, having hours to walk through nature and feel real warmth felt like taking a deep breath after almost drowning.

When they got closer to the gates, Tori looked up, seeing as the guards went from defensively raising their spears, to quickly lowering them when they recognised her.

The gates creaked softly as they opened up, revealing the quiet yard, where barely a handful of people were already up and about, carrying out their tasks of building or preparing breakfast.

A thin came walking out of a nearby trailer – Maggie. Her steps were cautious at first, clearly on high alert when she heard the gates open.

But the moment Tori and Daryl walked into view, still holding hands, Maggie took off into a jog, a surprised smile lifting her cheeks.

"Hey," she breathed, bringing Tori into a tight hug. "We were so worried. We were just discussing sending a search party to go after you."

Tori gave a short laugh as she pulled away, "Well, stand down your troupes. We made it."

Maggie smiled, reaching out to squeeze Tori's arm before going up to Daryl.

His head ducked, hair falling over his eyes, which he closed, like he was afraid to look at the younger woman. The guilt and regret coursed through him like electricity through a wire, burning him from the inside as the silence seemed to stretch.

Glenn. His name, his face, his last words – they echoed like a whisper in Daryl's ears as he stood there, his grip tightening around the strap of the duffel bag on his shoulder.

Maggie's eyes shone with something unspoken as she looked up at him, pulling him into a hug. His whole body tensed, not expecting the kindness. His shoulders tightened, his arms refusing to return the hug. But still, Maggie held him, her hands softly rubbing his back as she closed her eyes, just hoping that he could feel her forgiveness for what wasn't even his fault.

Tori smiled softly, blinking the fog from her eyes as she reached out to rest her hand on Daryl's back.

As Maggie stepped away, she wiped her eyes, her lips pressed into a relieved smile. "I'm really happy you're here. Both of you," she looked at Daryl earnestly, and he glanced up at her, giving a small nod.

He looked around, his eyes landing on the huge manor house standing proudly up the path. "Where is she?" he asked, his voice soft, but urgent.

Tori glanced at Maggie, who gave a quick nod, "Still set up in the room inside."

"Thanks," Tori said softly, her hand finding Daryl's once again. "Come on."

All the way up to the house and up the stairwell, Daryl's steps grew faster and faster. By the time they reached the second floor, it was him pulling Tori along, leading the way as she told him which door to look for. The wooden floorboards creaked beneath their feet, the smell of fresh bread being prepared downstairs left a warmth humming through the house, and there was a faint echo of laughter from out in the yard that made walking down the hall feel like coming home.