Red ~ TWD (Daryl Dixon)

The Blame Game

"You need to relax your body."

Maggie whirled around, a huge smile on her face.  The group she was teaching to throw knives all turned also, among them Glenn, Beth, and Enid.  Daryl shifted uncomfortably at my side, unable to meet the young widow's gaze.

"Alex!"  Maggie collided with me, hugging me briefly before pulling away and inspecting me from head to toe like the mom she was about to become.  "What are you doing here?  Is everything alright?"

"We're good," I lied.  The witch doctor didn't buy it, but she also didn't press the issue since we were in mixed company.  Instead she stepped back, allowing Glenn to embrace me while she moved on to Daryl.  "Good to see you man."

"You too."  Beth said nothing, smiling kindly at me like I hadn't been instrumental in her husband's death.  When her small arms wrapped around me my eyes filled with tear.  "Hey."

"Hey."  She released me, holding up a knife.  "Maggie's trying to teach us."

I glanced behind her at a wood stump.  There were a few embedded in it, but most were on the ground behind it and one was stuck in the side of a wood shack 20-feet to the left.  Good lord these people sucked. I threw better then this drunk of my ass.   I sincerely hoped this war didn't come down to throwing knives cause if so we were all gonna die.

"Looks like it's going really good," I grimaced.  Enid snorted, pulling her knife and tossing it at the stump serving as the target.  Her blade hit the stump with a thud, almost dead center.  She turned on her heel, crossing her arms over her chest proudly.  "Don't get cocky."

In my peripheral I saw Beth attempting to talk to Daryl.  My husband mumbled something incoherent, hoisting the pack on his shoulders and leaving quickly.  Her shoulder's deflated as she watched his retreating back.

"Come on, let's get you settled," Glenn said, trying to relieve some of the mounting tension.

"Y'all keep practicing.  I'll be back," Maggie instructed, leading us back towards the center of Hilltop.

Glenn pointed ahead, "Jesus' trailer is pretty full, but the one next door has an empty bedroom." 

I was only half listening.  Everywhere I looked the community was readying themselves for war.  The blacksmith was forging weapons, groups were scattered around learning to fight, and the community was being fortified with sheets of steel and sharpened wooden stakes.

Daryl's pack was already sitting on the bed by the time I got there, but the man himself was nowhere in sight.  I sighed, making my way to Jesus' trailer where the mood could best be described as strained.

Sasha sat at a table in the middle of the room, a scowl of determination on her face.  Maggie and Glenn were leaning against the wall, staring at the back of her head, the same worry reflected on both their faces.  Jesus, Enid, and Beth sat side-by-side all staring at anything other than the woman at the table and the man opposite her.  Daryl took a slow, deep breath, crossing his massive arms over his chest, eyes narrowed in calculation as he watched Sasha.

"OK, what'd I miss?"  Daryl said nothing, picking up a piece of paper and handing it to me.  The drawing on the paper was rudimentary at best, and I frowned.  "I didn't know Nugget was here."

"Funny," Sasha deadpanned, leaning back in the chair with a frustrated huff.

I placed the paper on the table casually.  "It'll never work."

Sasha growled, her eyes flicking to the ground.  Truth be told her depiction of The Sanctuary wasn't that far off.  She had the basic layout correct, no doubt assisted by Jesus and Carl's impromptu visits, but knowing the layout was hardly the issue.