Daryl tread softly down the upstairs hallway, trying his best not to wake anyone with the unavoidable creaking of the old floorboards, when he heard the muted sound of sobbing coming from behind the first door on the right. Maggie's room. He paused and cocked his head towards the door. He hoped the sudden cessation of creaking floorboards hadn't alerted her to his presence. But the sobbing continued, and Daryl knew that she was fully enveloped in her own world of pain and loss. He was at a loss for what to do. He wasn't one for comforting crying women, but the idea of ignoring those forlorn sounds coming from behind Maggie's door seemed inhuman. Slowly, he raised his fist up to the door, rapped gently on the wood with his knuckles. His knock was so hesitantly quiet he thought it practically imperceptible, but apparently she had heard because the sobbing suddenly broke off. He listened raptly for any further sign of her notice, but there was nothing for the next couple seconds.
Feeling awkward, he whispered through the door. "Maggie?"
No response. He figured he should probably leave it at that, that at least he had maybe knocked her out of her depressed reverie. But he wanted to be sure she was all right. Maggie wasn't exactly the crying type herself.
"Maggie?" he whispered, this time a little more forcefully. "Are you ok in there?" He felt like such a pansy. Of course she was ok. This was Maggie in there, not a scared little girl. But he knew that after Glenn, everything had changed for her. Even his own loss of a brother seemed incomparable to Maggie's loss. To find someone in this world the way it was now, someone who you could care about so much…well, it seemed like an impossibility. But Glenn and Maggie had done just that. Daryl had to admit that he felt two types of disbelief about Glenn's death. First, there was the shock of losing a friend. But second, there was the shock of seeing that impossible, against-the-odds relationship ended so unexpectedly and so finally.
He was about to give up, leaving Maggie to her own devices, and continue to his room, when he heard footsteps on the other side of the door. And suddenly his heart was hammering away inside his chest, and he wanted nothing more than to dart to his own room in avoidance of seeing her and speaking to her. But he did want to see her personally to make sure she wasn't too upset, you know, that kind of upset that made people do something stupid…and then it was too late to even entertain the idea of scurrying away down the hall because she had the door open and was looking dead at him.
Her eyes were red-rimmed and still wet with tears, though she had obviously made an effort to wipe most of them off of her face. "Daryl," she said simply, seeming completely unsurprised and unperturbed by his intrusion. Her voice was low and a little bit scratchy.
As she continued gazing at him with the same frozen look of despondence, Daryl averted his eyes down the hallway. He glimpsed the door to his room just around the bend in the hall and wished he was behind it right now. Too late now. He looked back towards Maggie again, and he knew that his angst must be showing on his face, because her lower lip was now trembling slightly. He placed a hand against the doorframe, close to her face, and tried to put on his most comforting expression (he didn't even want to know what that probably looked like).
"Hey…Maggie…I just wanted to make sure everything was ok in there. I heard…" He felt like he was probably more embarrassed to tell Maggie he'd heard her crying than she would be to admit it.
Her eyes were brimming with fresh tears. "I know what you heard. I'm sorry, Daryl. I didn't mean to bother you. It's just…it being Thanksgiving night and all. It makes me think…" She breathed in deeply to avoid a sob that threatened to wrack her entire body.
"It's ok, Maggie," Daryl answered quickly. Here she was thinking she was disturbing him when he was the one who had interrupted her remembrances. "I just wanted to check on you. You sounded so…sad in there."
She wiped her eyes with the back of hand and sniffed. "Yeah. Well…"
He didn't know what to say. This had easily been the most uncomfortable conversation of his life. But she was back to that detached, melancholic look again, and he prepared his body to move away and escape down the hall. He drew his hand off the doorframe and shoved it into his front pocket, turning on his heels. As soon as he looked away, she said the words he hadn't even realized he'd been expecting until they crossed her lips, completely emotionlessly.
"Do you wanna come in?"