Double Crossbow (Daryl Dixon) [The Walking Dead]

Chapter 32 ↣ But which way?

"She slept with wolves without fear, for the wolves knew a lion was among them."

— R.M. Drake

↣ ↢

Kathryn

THE NEXT MORNING I woke up with an eerie sense of calm surrounding me. I wracked my brain, thinking back to any dreams my subconscious might have blessed me with. Only there was nothing. No nightmares? No ghosts of my past come to haunt me? Why?

A light snore sounded in my ear, causing me to nearly jump out of my skin. I went to sit up, but a weight was on my side. My groggy brain soon put the pieces together as I realized it was an arm placed around me. Looking over my shoulder, I saw Daryl still asleep beside me. His features were, dare I say, soft in the early morning light. It was odd not seeing a scowl across his features, and his brow placid instead of furrowed.

I slowly moved from underneath his arm, trying my best not to wake him. It was early still. Yeah, well a good morning's never been in mine. Pulling on my boots, I walked silently out of the cell, but not without one last look back at him.

I hated the metal stairs and their echoing creaks. My footsteps were light and yet they still gave a groan here and there. Different footsteps alerted me to someone else being up. I made my way to where they had sounded which happened to be the common area.

"Rick?" I asked quietly.

He turned to face me. "Morning."

"It's not very often someone can beat me up," I said, crossing my arms.

Rick looked to the floor. "Couldn't sleep."

I glanced over his shoulder at the table to find it covered with an assortment of objects. "Where did all this come from?" I asked.

"I gathered everything I could off of the dead walkers."

"Smart."

He shrugged. "You sleep okay last night?"

I narrowed my eyes at him. Questions were never this simple with Rick. He was always analyzing and using his questions to catch people off guard and reveal information. An old cop habit. "I guess."

"If I ask something, will you promise not to punch me?"

"No promises."

Rick looked at me for a long while. "You and Daryl...you've gotten closer these past months."

I locked my jaw, understanding the implied question. In response I walked up to Rick, looked him dead in the eye, and punched his shoulder before moving over to the table and picking up a flashbang. He rolled out his shoulder before he stood on the opposite side of the table.

"I probably deserved that," he muttered. "Curiosity killed the cat."

↣ ↢

"Not bad," Daryl said, referring to haul on the table.

Rick was listing off the various items. "Flashbangs, CS Triple-Chasers. Not sure how they'd work on walkers, but we'll take them."

Daryl picked up one of the helmets that was sitting on the table. Walker goo proceeded to spill out of it. "I ain't wearin' this shit," he grumbled before trying to wipe said goo on my shirt. I jumped away from him, causing him to snicker.

"We could boil 'em," T suggested.

"There ain't enough firewood in the whole forest," Daryl said. "No. 'Sides we've gotten this far without 'em, right?"