I wake up with a gasp, the bed sheets sticking to my back as I sit up.

It's pitch black in the room, except from the light illuminating the window frame from the moon. I reach up to feel my forehead. It's drenched. Another nightmare and I couldn't wake myself up in time.

I lie back down, ignoring the moisture beneath me. The silence and darkness around me create an ominous mood. Sadness washes over me. And… panic?

I take a deep breath, reminding myself that it was just a nightmare. It wasn't real. Walkers exist. But none that ever got me; certainly not the ones that got me in my dream.

I swallow the lump in my throat, the silence becoming way too loud. It wasn't real. It wasn't real.

After laying there for ten minutes, I get out of bed, feeling lonelier than ever. I need to see somebody. Anybody. It's dumb. I know everybody is okay. We're in Alexandria. It's night and the whole group is asleep. Everybody is safe.

But I can't shake the feeling. Waking up alone in a dark room seems to have a big impact on a person. Especially after a nightmare.

I put on the combat boots at the end of the room and run downstairs, suddenly desperate for fresh air. Once I'm outside, it hits me like a thousand knives. I wrap my arms around my middle, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath. It feels nice.

I look around, noticing how every house has its lights off. The lump in my throat arises again, making me feel sick.

I start running through Alexandria, feeling how the chilly air has already gotten rid of the sweat around my body. There is nothing except from the crickets chirping around the compound and the thudding of my heavy boots.

I halt, nearly tripping over my own feet at the sight before me. It's Daryl.

I sigh, wrapping my arms around myself again. He is sat on somebody's porch stairs, his trusty crossbow tucked between his legs. He looks busy. Is he cleaning it or something? At midnight?

I take another deep breath, feeling myself calming down. It's weird seeing him like this. Not squinting at the sun, working on something without anybody bothering him. I wipe a strand of hair out of my face and sigh. Okay, I was being silly. It was a nightmare and it made me feel alone but I am not alone. Everybody is asleep. And Daryl is there, busy mending his weapon. Everything is fine. It was just a nightmare.

I turn around, feeling satisfied with the new knowledge, but also slightly stupid. I'm twenty years old. No more kid's stuff.

As I begin to walk away, Daryl grumbles, "Brooke?"

I stop, glancing at him.

"What're ye' doing up?" he stays seated, looking over my faded pink PJ pants and the tattered t shirt I found on a run one day.

I turn around slowly, avoiding his eyes but knowing that he probably can't see my features from this distance in the dark, "Erm… I had a nightmare."

He scoffs, looking back down at his crossbow. I watch him until he finally stands up and slings the crossbow over his shoulder. We find each other's eyes in the dark and lock for a minute.

I bite my lip, "What are you doing up?"

Daryl chews the inside of his cheek, "Saw a ranch back there," he gestures to the fence with his head, "Gonna check it out."

"In the dark?" I raise my eyebrows.

"It's quieter in the dark."

I nod slowly, realizing that walkers could be heard easier when all life is slumbering. It would be especially easy for him because he is so good at tracking. He notices how I rub one of my arms, the air practically freezing me.

"Get back inside," he points to the house I ran away from. I shake my head automatically, knowing that isn't an option for me. I'm too awake. And I wouldn't want to lay there alone again.

"Don't go," I offer, watching him watch me from behind his hair.

To my surprise, he actually listens and ends up walking me back to the house. We stay silent until we enter the living room and I shut the door behind us. The silence is still here. But now Daryl's presence is making the whole atmosphere comfortable to be in.

Suddenly, I am unsure of what to do next. He has never been in here before but all the houses in Alexandria have the same interiors. Still, he leans against a wall, looking down at his feet.

"Shall I make us some tea?" I ask, trying to warm myself up, "I have a lot of tea."

He lifts his eyes and nods slightly.

We sit at the kitchen table, sipping on the scorching brew I manages to make. Daryl finishes his first, putting down the cup in the middle of the table. I yawn quietly, resting my head in one hand.

"Yer tired. Go to bed," he mutters. When I look up, he is staring at me.

It must be the cold air that managed to freeze the 'smart decision making' part of my brain, because I blurt out, "Will you come with me?"

Daryl looks away before getting up and walking over to the door. I sigh quietly, staying seated, feeling like an idiot. But then I hear him murmur, "Yer comin' or what?"