It had been two years sense he lost everything, and five years sense it all began.
The last two years were long. Two very long, cold, and very lonely years.
Not that he was counting, though.
No, Daryl Dixon didn't want to think about the last five years of his life. It was too hurtful, too painful, and full of too much regret. But more importantly, he wished that he could forget-or at least stop thinking about the fleeting images of the last two years in particular.
But here he was, squeezing his eyes shut as he trudged onwards through the woods, seeing a multitude of images behind his closed eyelids.
Some were happy, and some were heart wrenching. Some were good, and others were bad. Faces that he knew very well, and other faces that he didn't. He silently prayed-to who or what, he wasn't sure - to get it all to stop. Reason being because the images never stopped their relentless assault upon him.
It was always the worst when he was sleeping, his dreams were always vivid and felt like a stab to the chest. During the day usually it wasn't so bad. He spent a lot of his time lately just wishing it would stop.
But in reality, he knew damn well at this point that he was powerless to stop it from happening. Powerless to forget, powerless to forgive himself for letting things happen to the people he cared about more than he cared about anything or himself.
The images all start with Sophia, and it remains one of the strongest of the images to this day.
Vivid flashes of her Hollowed out cheekbones and matted cropped blonde hair. Flashes of a huge indentation on her left shoulder and flashes of a gun barrel pointed directly at her forehead. He swears to this day that he can still hear the noises that she made as she emerged from the darkness of Hershel's barn. He remembers vividly hearing Carols cries in the distance behind him as she shuffled forward towards her, but she wasn't as quick as he was when he grabbed her just in time to prevent her from getting too close.
He sees an image of his torso as he looked down to where the pain was coming from. He remembers trying to find Sophia on horseback before being thrown off of said horse and sliding down a ravine. The pain he felt was from an arrow lodged through his side and he knows he bears a scar from it to this day. It all is just another reminder of someone he couldn't save, someone he couldn't find.
He tried, and he knows that. But he also knows that it just wasn't enough.
After that, he sees T-Dog.
The fleeting image of his rib cage exposed and steaming from the heat of his body after it had been torn open and devoured. The only recognizable thing about him at that point was the bloody and torn remnants of a tan t-shirt, and the darkness of what used to be his arm-the skin tone dark in contrast of the exposed parts of his bone.
He sacrificed himself for the sake of carol. Such a selfless act from such a selfless person. Although his death was inevitable after being bit by a walker while trying to fix the fences, he offered his life for the survival of another.
Next comes lori.
Lori and himself might not have had the best relationship-he knew that most of their conversations were laced with venomous words towards her-but he began to respect her nonetheless. She was the essential 'first lady' of the group so to speak.
He didn't witness her death the way Carl and Maggie had, and he hadn't even seen her body considering it was never found, but that didn't stop his mind from conjuring up images of his own to fit the description of her death that was described to him second hand from Hershel. He didn't have much to go on, but he couldn't stop seeing an image of a knife cutting through the flesh of her stomach to save Judith and give her a chance at a life.
The images cease for a moment as he hears a crack of a tree branch nearby as he continues to walk. He stalls for a moment, looking in the direction of the noise, his hand on the knife attached to his belt getting ready to take out his frustration on what he assumed was a walker in the distance. He walks that way, only to be stopped by a hand on his shoulder.
He whips around, face to face with the man he was following behind.
"Leave it," the man said. "It's just one of them. We're not far, we're almost there."
Daryl turned back, nodding at the man as he continued onward.
He wasn't sure how he got to this point, currently aimlessly following behind a scrawny man with auburn hair through the woods. The man had told him his name as he had approached him while he was walking down the road trying to find a place to hold up for the night. He didn't remember it though. His new philosophy as of late was to not get close to anyone he met again, it brought more images. More images meant more pain.
He spoke of some sort of place north of where he was, but truth be told, daryl wasn't really listening to the details. At this point, he didn't care. He'd follow the man, check the place out, and probably move on. That's what he did lately now that he was on his own.
In the silence that had returned during the walk, the fleeting images begin to resurface.
Merle's face comes into focus as he walks, but not the face of the brother he knew and grew up with.
No. This version of Merle is the one that he wishes he could forget.
This version of Merle bears wrinkled grey skin, and a bullet hole through the chest. Snarling lips begin curling at him as what Merle had turned into recognized him as his next meal.
He sees Images of him forcing his knife through his brothers skull over and over again, leaving Merle's face unrecognizable. He sees his lifeless and decaying form sprawled out on the ground, as he breaks down into tears. The death of his only brother, and the only member left of his family after the beginning of the dead roaming the earth had proved to be one of the hardest of them all.
Then he sees his mother, at least, what he remembers of her.
First he sees her cutting his hair as he sits on the counter in the bathroom. Her eyes were bloodshot, her dark hair was in a loosely held and matted bun on the top of her head. She hummed quietly until she finished, brushing the hair strands off of his shoulders. She would stand behind him, with her hands placed gently on his shoulders, and would give them a slight squeeze before returning back to the rest of the 'family'.
The image becomes twisted and contorted in that instant, and it doesn't take long before he feels as though his skin is burning while the next scene plays out.
He sees a burning house, searing into the Georgia sky from the distance as he turns the corner on his bike coming home from school that afternoon. He sees two fire trucks fighting the blaze to no avail, trying to save his house pointlessly.
His mother, the only one in the family that ever showed him any sort of affection burned alive in that house. He found solace in the fact that he knew that she was probably dead to the world at that point, drunk off of her ass into oblivion as usual. She probably didn't even know what was happening.
That didn't lessen the pain of the blow, though. He sees the faces of the two police men after they had told him that she didn't make it out Alive. Pity apparent in their eyes as one placed a hand onto his shoulder.
"I'm sorry, son." The police man had said. The police man then wiped some sweat from the heat of the distant blaze away from his forehead. "Do you have anyone you'd like to contact? Where's your father?"
And that's when he sees his father.
He never calls him by his name, even when he told the few people about it. He always referred to him as 'pa' or 'dad', but Daryl didn't even believe he deserved that title. The man who raised him little before, and little after the death of his mother was not a human being in his eyes.
He sees a belt. He sees the buckle shining from the doorway as his father returns home from a night at Tracy's bar down the road. He sees his father stumble through the door, already looking for something-or rather, someone- to put his hands on.
Words like "worthless piece of shit" and "dumbass" come to mind in the form of his fathers voice as he's kicked repeatedly in the ribs. Daryl swears he can still feel the top of his boot ramming into his body until he stops fighting back, knowing it's pointless.
That's when he hears the crack of leather coming down onto skin. Over and over again. He feels another kick, then another crack, followed by another.
And another.
He sees the angry glazed over blue eyes cowering over him, grabbing him by the hair and dragging him upright into a sitting position against the wall. His father then gets down on one knee, looking at him in the face as he says, "Yer trash boy. Worthless trash."
It was always like that, some words were different from time to time and the bruises would appear maybe on his face or even his stomach. But in theory, it was always the same. It was like that until he turned 15, when he left with no intention of coming back.
And he didn't.
The images shift over to the two and a half year mark.
He sees Andrea now. He sees her at Woodbury, leaning against the wall cradled in michonne's arms. He sees the blood pooled on the floor, and then a flash of a chunk taken out of her pale shoulder, just like Sophia.
He hears her say "I tried." Tears in her eyes.
The woman might have been a damn idiot from time to time, and Daryl never did forget all of the fucking stupid moves she made over the years he knew her, but she was one of them.
She was family.
And after that, it all starts to go downhill.
He tries really hard not to see this particular image in his head. Really, he does. He tries to remember the man he respected so much in another aspect, but he fails miserably every single damn time.
He sees hershel on his knees in the field in the distance. He sees the govenor and Rick down at the fences of his old home. Then he sees it, always in slow motion, tearing at his heart every time.
A katana. Michonne's katana to be exact, slicing halfway through the neck of Hershel as blood sprays onto his shirt.
He sees Hershel fall onto his side, the muscles in his badly severed neck pulling and tearing the cut even more than it already was.
He hears the high pitched screaming of The Greene sisters, then the rapid firing of weapons as his home slowly deteriorates into nothing more than a battle zone.
That's when he sees two very different images, almost side by side.
He sees the prison, his home, as it was before. This particular memory is bittersweet as he knows what is to come.
He sees the fences that provide protection from the walkers and other dangers outside. He knows that in that moment it was the safest the group had been or felt in a long time.
He sees the makeshift generator that provided comfortable living within his home, some air conditioning through the cell blocks during the summertime, and power to cook meals on the stove on the inside.
He hears the faint laughter of the children - Lizzie, Micah, Luke, and Molly, and he sees their chalk drawings on the wall and on the ground outside.
He sees Rick and Carl tending to the fields and the pigs as they talk and laugh about god knows what. Rick's smile that was not there for a while after loosing his wife had slowly began to re-materialize.
He sees beth walking down the halls, the heels of her cowboy boots softly patting onto the concrete, singing to the baby as she tries to get her to go down for a nap. Beth sang songs to the others as well-mostly at dinner time or when they would occasionally celebrate a birthday- and it almost made everyone feel like the world hadn't ended.
He sees Carol hanging up laundry with Sasha and Maggie laughing playfully and snickering as Glenn walks by and kisses Maggie on the cheek before walking off for guard duty. He sees Maggie run past him as he walks the fences during the night to sneak into the guard tower with Glenn.
He sees carl cleaning his gun, talking to Patrick about some sort of comic book Michonne had retrieved on her previous run.
He sees Tyreese serving dinner to everyone, as everyone sits around telling stories and laughing. And in that moment, everything is okay.
Then everything goes dark.
The fences are torn down, and fires blaze into the building. People running and scattering into different directions trying to survive.
The cell block is empty, and it's probably infested with walkers by this point in time. The memories that had been made in the prison were just that.
Memories.
Nothing more than memories.
Distant, painful memories.
He stares at his feet as he walks, trying his damnedest to keep his eyes open because he knows what comes next.
He knows if he keeps going, he's not going to stop.
"What changed your mind?" He hears.
He whips his head around because just like all the times before, he swears he actually heard it. It was a clear, beautiful sing-song voice that hasn't left his head for the past two fucking years. It was as if someone was standing behind him and whispering it into his ear.
He shakes his head, cursing out loud causing the man ahead to turn around and give him a questioning look. He ignores him, grunting and waving his hand at him to get him to turn back around and mind his own damn business.
That's when he hears it again.
"There's still good people, daryl."
He shakes his head again, gripping the strap of his crossbow tightly in his hand, knuckles turning white underneath the pressure.
He wants it to stop.
He wants it all to go away.
He wants to forget.
He's powerless to the most vivid of all of the memories as it comes into focus, slowly.
He sees her, and in that moment it's almost as if she never left.
Almost as if he wasn't such an idiot, and didn't open that fucking door like he had.
He sees her yelling back in his drunken face, not taking an ounce of the bullshit he was spewing at her.
He hears her call him out on that bullshit, clear as day.
"I want you to stop acting like you don't give a crap about anything!"
She had said.
"Like nothing we went through matters, like, none of the people we lost meant anything to you."
Just like Beth. Seeing it how it was, not letting any bullshit fly.
"It's bullshit!"
And somehow, later that night, he ends up telling her what everyone had tried so hard to guess. What everyone made assumptions about but nobody really knew. And he sees her face in that moment. Not judging, not pitying. Simply listening intently to what he had to say, without a word. It's almost as if she knew what buttons to push and which ones not to. She knew when to back off and she knew when to push him to open up.
"You wanna know where I was before all this? I was just driftin' 'round with merle. Doin' whatever it was he said we was gonna be doin' that day"
Then He sees her sitting across from him on the porch. Sees her lazy drunken smile as it glows in the moonlight as she tells him how much she misses her family.
The images shift then.
He sees the soft curve of her pale neck, hair swept into a loose ponytail as she struggles with the weight of his crossbow, aiming it at a walker in the field.
He sees, and hears her singing voice as he stands in the doorway watching. He listens to her sing, not so much the words of whatever the hell it was she was singing, but more her voice. Her beautiful, eloquent, captivating singing voice coming from the the blonde on the bench seat of the piano.
He hears her laugh as he jumps into the casket, watching the loose strands of her soft golden blonde hair fall into her eyes as he tells her to keep singing.
Then, and only then, does the worst part of it all come full circle.
"Don't 'iunno'... What changed your mind?"
And he stares back into her piercing baby blue eyes, trying his best to convey his answer without a single word.
He loves her. He's loved her for a while even though he was too stubborn to admit it.
And she gets it. Or at least he thinks that she does.
"Oh."
Then the door alarm strung across the porch makes noise, jerking him away from beth as he so fucking stupidly yanks the door open without even a second thought. He yells for her, and then sees her in the doorway.
He pinches the bridge of his nose when the fleeting image of her in that doorway for only a split second comes into focus. And if he had thought or known that it was the last time he'd ever see her, he probably would have taken the time to etch every single thing about it into memory.
But he doesn't.
Instead, he tells her to run. Run to the road and he'll be right there. That's what he says. And for once, she listens to him.
He sees walkers follow him down the steps, shooting at a few with his crossbow and barricading himself between the walkers with one of the bodies of the dead that were being prepared for burial.
He sees himself barely getting away and running out of the funeral home.
He sees his crossbow swing upwards and smash into the skull of a stray walker in his path.
Then, his heart drops. It drops somewhere deep into the recesses of his body, deep into the recesses of his soul and it stays there.
It never really fully retreats back.
Even to this day.
He feels empty as he sees the black bag that is usually strung across Beth's shoulder scattered on the ground.
Then he hears it.
He hears and then he sees it.
The car, speeding away and kicking up dust with a cross plastered across the back windshield.
And without a second thought, he runs.
He sees the car until he can't see it anymore. He sees the tracks until he can't see them anymore either. But he keeps running. And he keeps running.
He runs all night, runs until his legs literally give out. He runs until the sun comes up and he can see everything around him clearly. He Runs until he hits a fork in the road and is given no other choice than to do what he doesn't want to do.
He gives up.
And god, does he hate himself for it every single day.
He's broken again from the thoughts as he realizes the man was speaking to him.
"What?" Daryl says.
"I said, were here." He replies, pushing through the shrubbery and pulling it aside allowing daryl to walk ahead of him.
It was almost like déjà vu, seeing the place ahead of him. He wasn't sure exactly where in the continental US he was, and to be honest, he didn't really care. But the image ahead of him almost reminded him of Woodbury. It was a town of sorts, barricaded at the front with a huge metal gate, guarded by three men holding machine guns.
From the top of the hill that he and the stranger he was traveling with had emerged from, he could see the rows of houses and buildings. The place was big, clearly an organized community. He found himself wondering how long it had been there. Found himself wondering what he was getting himself into.
He sees Gareth standing in front of him as he squeezes his eyes shut once again, eerily reminding him just of what danger might be behind those gates.
He sees the train car in that moment too, sees the gunfire ring through the night sky as he and his family began their escape from the hell hole. Up until that point, daryl was only worried about being eaten by the dead-not by the living.
And How wrong he was.
Then the pit of his stomach aches as he remembers running like hell from the place like he was told to, but not before snagging his crossbow back from one of the dead termites.
And that's when he lost them.
That's when he lost the rest of them, to be exact.
He tracked like hell for days, weeks, months. However long, he wasn't really sure.
But eventually, like the governors had-his family's trail had gone cold.
He went back. To terminus, to the prison, to the Greene farm. Hell, he even went back to the god damn highway where they had met everyone after the barn was over run.
But there was nothing.
There was no one.
It was two years ago. Two long fucking years of him living on the road, living alone in a meaningless existence without the only people who ever gave a damn about him.
"We'll get you set up." The man called over his shoulder as he walked down the hill and towards the still unnamed place.
"You'll get your own place, one of the smaller ones sense it's just you of course." The man said, sending a hand signal to the guards who ordered the gates to be unlocked.
"But first, we have to do some checking on you. Well get your sizes for clothes and shoes, run your bloodwork, get you all set and ready to start living." Daryl snorted at the word 'living' receiving a questioning glance from the man ahead of him in return as he slipped through the metal gates after him.
The man led him to the first building on the right as he did a one over of the view in front of him. Women, children, families and groups of people simply living as if there was no hell on the outside of the gates. Eerily reminding him of Woodbury. He turned to follow the man only to have him stopped in front of the door, his eyes boring into his own.
"Look," the man began, "I understand your not one for words, and I get that. I don't know what you've been through and I couldn't even begin to understand it." The man scratched his head a little bit as if he were trying to find the right words to say.
"But I'm trusting my gut on this one, we don't just let anyone in here. I can tell you've been through a lot. Everyone deserves a chance." He said lightly, opening the door and gesturing him inside.
"Alright mister Daryl..."
"Dixon." He replied, sitting on the grey metal table.
"Right, sorry. Mr. Dixon, if you would please give me your right arm, I'm gonna need to draw some blood from you for some tests." The grey haired woman replied, fiddling with the tools on the counter adjacent from him.
It's that damn image again, at the words 'Mr. Dixon' that causes his breath to get strangled somewhere in his throat. He sees her roll her eyes at him from the seat at the table in the moonshine cabin. He hears that sweet voice
"Yes, Mr. Dixon."
He frowns, and almost smacks himself across the face to get the blonde haired blue eyed angel out of his fucking vision.
"What kinda tests?" Daryl grumbled out, sounding a lot harsher than he really had meant to.
"Oh, not to worry. We just want to make sure your healthy is all. Nothing too serious." The woman replied with a warm smile. Daryl outstretched his arm to her, looking off at the opposite side of the wall, trying to focus on anything that would keep him from recoiling from the poor woman in front of him. She was just doing her job, he knew that.
"Gonna feel a slight pinch," she said, pushing the needle into his arm. He didn't flinch, he'd had worse than a damn butterfly needle in his arm.
"Caleb's a nice young man." The woman says. Daryl looks up to meet her grey eyes, and she smiles at him.
"Caleb's the man that brought you in." She clarifies.
"Don't try to remember names no more," he says "don't see the point." The woman frowns at him, but doesn't press the issue. She finishes drawing the blood, placing the vial on the counter and placing a small band aid on top of the small hole from the needle.
"Alright Mr. Dixon you are all set." She says with another smile. He hops off the table, reaching for the door handle.
"Oh, and daryl," the woman says, peeling her gloves off and throwing them in the wastebasket. Daryl looks back to her. "Welcome home."
Daryl grunts a half ass 'thank you' as he opens the door, finding the man he now knew as Caleb standing in front of him with a clipboard, and a set of keys.
"Alright, let's get you settled."
He follows him out the door again, passing onlookers on the street as he grips his crossbow strap tightly in his fist. He avoids their gazes, training his eyes on anything but other peoples own eyes.
He focuses on grass, little pebbles in the sidewalk, the picket fences that line the sidewalks and separate the houses from one another. Anything but other people. He wasn't ready for that yet, and he wasn't sure he ever would be again.
The man led him to a small house, yellow at some point he guessed as he followed Caleb up the steps and he unlocked the door.
"We ask that you keep your weapon inside." He said. Daryl glared at him. "I know it seems odd, not having something to protect you, but trust me you won't be needing it here." Daryl grunted in response, not in the mood for arguing.
Caleb swung the door open and walked inside. He closed the door behind daryl and tossed him the keys to the house.
"You got running water." He said as daryl inspected the surroundings. The place was completely furnished, couches, coffee table, kitchen table, stove. He felt uneasy about it all, especially considering that this was the first actual house that he would live in. The first house he would call his own that wasn't some run down shack.
"It's not hot water, but it's something. You got electricity, so you can cook on the stove. We have a general store here in town where you can get what you need, well set you up with a job here soon because we all contribute here. It keeps the place going."
"What the hell is this place anyway?" Daryl asked, placing his crossbow down on the coffee table.
"Well I'm glad you asked." Caleb said smiling. He tossed him a paper out of his jacket pocket, and daryl opened it, examining what looked to be a map of the town.
"This place is called Alexandria. It's a safe zone of sorts."
"Safe zone?" Daryl questioned, looking at the map in depth, trying to take everything in as best he could. This was a lot to take in within an hour of time.
"To a degree. I call it Alexandria but hey, everyone calls it some kind of variation of it." Daryl nodded, folding the map up and placing it next to his crossbow.
"You smoke?" Caleb asked him. Daryl's eyes shot up to him as he nodded a little to eagerly. Caleb laughed at his sudden interest in something. It was the first time he'd seen any emotion other than aggravation or anger out of daryl. He gestured for him to follow him back on the the porch as he grabbed a pack out of his back pocket and tossed it to him after he grabbed one out for himself.
"Keep it," he said, handing the lighter to him. Daryl cocked and eyebrow out of question. Caleb laughed again.
"Seriously man, take it. Got some more at home and there's more than enough st the general store."
Daryl nodded as he leaned on the porch pillar, cupping his hands around the flame as he lit the end, breathing in deeply and feeling the nicotine rush through his body.
"So, daryl." Caleb said, leaning his body on the pillar opposite him. "What's your story?"
"Ain't got one." He mumbled, cigarette handing out of his mouth.
Lie.
"Everyone's got a story." He replied, blowing the smoke from his out of his nose slowly.
"Yeah, well, I don't." He said, looking out to the street, Watching a few of the stragglers walk down the sidewalk.
Another lie.
Caleb nodded.
"I found this place bout a year ago." Caleb offered, looking to daryl for some kind of response, but came up empty.
"Lost my family when it all started. My wife Eliza and my two little boys Dean and Wayne." Daryl nodded.
"Lost my family too." He replied. Daryl knew they were talking about two different kind of things.
Luckily for Daryl, Caleb didn't push the envelope any further than that.
He decided to let it go, blowing out one last puff of smoke before chucking the cigarette over into the grass.
"It's about noon now," he said, walking down the steps and turning around to face daryl as he inhaled and held it in, looking up to the roof of the porch for a few moments before releasing it.
"Later, we have a town meeting. Everyone goes." He said.
"I'll be there." Daryl grumbled, tossing the cigarette aside and walking back into the house without another word.
He really wasn't going to go.
He really fucking wasn't.
He didn't want to go to this so called 'town meeting' all the while knowing he probably had no other choice. He wanted to be alone again, like he had been for the past two years. He wanted to just stay in the little uncomfortably perfect house and stay there.
He knew that the Caleb creature would come after him and all but drag him there if he didn't, so when the time came he laced up his boots and threw on his jacket and vest, all the while cursing out loud before trudging out the door.
The closer he got, the more annoyed he became.
There was a large group of people, by the looks of it, at least 70 crammed into a building and gathering around the outside. They were chattering about, talking and laughing, and downright enjoying themselves. He felt awkward as he twisted the handle, receiving warm and welcome smiles from those around them.
The tips of his ears were hot, and he was angry for no reason other than the fact that he felt-no, he knew- he was out of place.
He found solace though in seeing the man that had brought him in standing off to the side of the dining hall that he walked into. The man nodded his head upwards to get him to approach him, and so he did.
"Daryl, glad you made it." He said, reaching his hand out to shake. Daryl shook his hand and leaned against the wall next to him.
"I know I said its a town meeting," Caleb began, crossing his arms over his chest. "And it is.. But it's more of a gathering. We do it once a month." Caleb took a drink out of the glass in his hand.
Daryl grunted, he knew it was odd that there were children running around, in addition to the music playing at the front of the building.
They stared off into the group for a moment, only to be interrupted by a slight crying noise from the floor.
Caleb laughed, handing the glass in his hand over to Daryl as he scooped up what turned out to be a little girl in yellow dress and black dress shoes. Her eyes were red from tears, but they were a beautiful chocolate brown color.
"Hey J.J. What's wrong?" The man said to the little girl.
"Can't find mama." She cried, placing her head on his chest. Caleb pet her hair gently, cradling her against his chest for a moment before he placed her onto her feet as he got level with her eyes in a crouching position.
"I bet she's by the music J.J.. How about you go see if she's over there?" The little girl nodded mutely before taking off towards the door.
Daryl handed Caleb back his glass as he stood back upright.
"She yours?" Daryl found himself asking.
"Oh no, she came with a larger group years ago. I just always seem to be around when she runs off and gets lost. Sweet girl, though. She's had quite the journey. "Caleb chuckled slightly at his own words and Daryl nodded.
"You want a drink?" He asked, looking over to daryl.
"Depends on the drink." He replied, chewing on the end of his thumb.
"How's a little Jim beam sound?" The man asked. Daryl could almost hear the smile in his voice as he nodded in response.
Daryl followed Caleb over to a table with a multitude of liquor bottles on the table.
"Hey Regina, get me a Jim beam for our newest resident here." The woman behind the counter looked at daryl, and smiled.
"This is daryl, daryl this is Regina. She's one of our oldest residents here."
The woman snorted, "I hope your not cracking on my age, asshole. Don't make me get my sister." The woman said, shaking her head and pouring the amber liquid into a glass and handing it to daryl with another warm smile.
She must have noticed the confusion in Daryl's face.
"I'm his sister in law." She said to daryl, "unfortunately." She added with a laugh. Caleb gave her the middle finger jokingly before turning around and having daryl follow in suit.
He followed the man around for maybe an hour, feeling like a fucking idiot as he was introduced to people upon people. He was annoyed visibly, and he was pretty sure everyone knew it.
He had retreated to the woman from the bar table earlier a number of times to get two more glasses of the alcohol to pour down his throat. He figured if he was going to be put through this torture, he needed to be at least half lit by the time he went back to 'his house'.
He realized quickly that it had been a little too long sense he had drank when he found himself standing on the sidewalk outside. He somehow meandered himself outside for a smoke, and just never found the need or the interest to go back inside and face the people again.
He lit another cigarette, staring at the sky. The sun was still out, but it was beginning to set. He figured it had to be around six or seven.
His drunken and cloudy mind found itself wondering if anyone he knew was under that same sky, looking up and wondering if he was alive, if he was okay. In that same moment, he found himself wondering if they were okay, and if they were alive.
He knew it was a stupid thought, he knew that they were more than likely dead and thinking like this was pointless.
"Wouldn't kill you to have a little faith" he heard in his ear.
He whipped his head around, everyone had retreated inside as the sun began making its decent and there was nobody around, not a soul as far as he could tell.
He bent forwards and put his hands on his knees, breathing in deep through his nose and out through his mouth before looking back up to the sky as he stood upright. He felt lost, and while he was in the midst of being drunk, he was finally able to sort of come to terms with that.
He stomped his drunken frustration out on the end of his cigarette, and began to walk down the sidewalk towards his new home when a noise caught his attention.
"Mama" The voice of a small child rang out from his left. He stopped, looking to see where the child was.
"Mama, mama where are you?" The voice mumbled. He walked towards the child as he saw it emerge from the side of the building.
That's when he saw her for the second time. The same child from inside earlier with auburn hair and brown eyes, wearing that same yellow sundress and black shoes.
"D'yknow where mama is" the child said, walking up and tugging on the side of his jeans.
He smiled for the first time in god knows how long as he kneeled down, meeting his eyes with the little girl.
"What're ya doin out here all by yourself, little girl." He said to her.
"I can't find mama." The little girl said simply, fiddling with her fingers as she looked down at them.
Again? Does nobody watch this fuckin kid?
"What's your mama's name?" He asked her, looking into her little eyes as she finally looked away from her hands she had found so interesting.
"Her names mama!" She replied, pointing one of her fingers at him aggressively.
He couldn't help but laugh, little girl was a spitfire that was for sure.
He stood up, straightening his shirt out and outstretched his hand to her.
"Grab my hand, let's go find your mama." He said. She smiled back at him as she put her tiny little hand into his.
He wandered around the dining hall aimlessly for a while, trying to lock eyes with the women around him and hoping one would recognize the child hoisted on his hip.
Most of the people merely sent him a thoughtful glance, none of them seeming to truly recognize the child or him. He turned the corner, thanking his lucky stars for the one familiar face in front of him.
"Caleb," he said as he approached him, the little girl fast asleep on his shoulder. He shifted her weight slightly, but she didn't make a sound.
"She came up to me outside, said she's looking for her mama. Again." Caleb looked over, and smiled.
"She likes to run off, that one. She was probably with her aunt and uncle and they're not usually the most attentive. Her mama left here a little bit ago" He said, rolling his eyes.
"Where's this girls family?" He said roughly, clearly angry at the fact that jt wasn't the first but the second time this child couldn't find her family.
Daryl stood in place awkwardly, waiting on what to do. He wasn't sure where he was supposed to go from here, he had someone's little girl asleep on his shoulder.
"Here." He said, slurring as he spoke and handing him a key. "This goes to 412, it's on the next block from your place. Her moms probably asleep. Just go on in and put 'er down."
"You want me to walk into someone's house while they're sleepin? No, no way in hell." Daryl replied putting the key back into Caleb's hand roughly.
Caleb sighed. "Alright, lemme see if I can find Glenn and Maggie."
Daryl froze.
He felt his throat go dry. He felt the world around him start spinning. Suddenly the ground was the sky and the sky was the ground. Everything went topsy-turvy in that very moment.
"Daryl, you alright?" Caleb said, looking at him with concern. He must have seen the distressed look etched across his features.
"Her mama.." He said quietly, looking to the little girl hoisted up on his hip, "what's her name?"
"Her moms name is Beth. Why?"
"Give me the key." He said.
"I thought you-"
"Just give me the damn key!" He all but shouted at him. Caleb looked at him skeptically before placing the key in his hand. Daryl didn't take another second before walking out the door.
He began walking down the sidewalk, as quickly but as carefully as he could, making his way to where Caleb said this 'beth' lived. He tried to think as rationally as he usually did. That there was no way in the fucking world that it was actually Beth. There was no way that the child's aunt and uncle Maggie and Glenn was the Maggie and Glenn that he knew. There was no way that 'J.J." Was Judith, even though she looked like her, the very vague features of her face all but screamed Judith to him. But he couldn't be sure. At least not in that moment.
Maybe it was the alcohol.
Maybe it was all in his fucked up head.
But in that moment, he really didn't fucking care, he had to know.
It felt like a damn eternity walking down that sidewalk. It felt like he was walking in slow motion.
And then he was there. A powder blue house standing there with the light on at the top floor. The house was exactly like his, besides the color and the wearing of the paint on the outside of the building. He took the key out of his pocket with a deep breath, turning the lock over as quietly as he could before opening the door.
As he stood in the doorway, and the smell of the house hit him, he couldn't help but think of beth in that instance. The sweet smell or vanilla mixed slightly with tangerine pierced the air pungently. It was her. He knew it was.
He placed the child on the couch gently, picking up the quilt that was laid ontop of the couch and placed it over her before backing up slightly, butt still keeping his position kneeling next to her.
He saw the staircase to his right as he turned his gaze in that direction, and as he was about to walk up to figure out if in fact the beth in question was his beth, when he paused. He felt paralyzed momentarily.
What if this child was actually Beth's child?
What if she had gotten here, and found someone? The thought wasn't far fetched. He had seen the younger men when he had arrived, and if she was here, what was to say she hadn't found someone? Someone better than him.
What if she had moved on and this was her child? What if it wasn't Judith as he had assumed it was?
He needed to know.
He knelt down at the couch, brushing the short brown locks out of the child's face.
"Darlin', wake up." He said to the child, waking her up gently with a small tug on her shoulder.
Her eyes fluttered open and she looked around a little before smiling.
"I'm on mamas couch." She said in a hoarse voice.
He couldn't help but laugh, watching the small child's eyelids flutter slightly. the girl was adorable.
"Sweetheart, what's your name?" He said, rubbing his thumb across her small cheekbone.
"I'm Jude." She said.
Judith.
"Thas what m' brother says." She said with a yawn.
Carl.
"What's your brothers name?" He asked, unable to hide the shakiness in his voice.
"Carl" she whined "lemme go night night." She said, pulling the quilt over her eyes.
Daryl hung his head. The whole scenario unfolding in front of him was almost too much to handle. He cried silently. This was it.
He found them.
No, they found him.
She was up there. Beth was up there. He knew that now, he had all te proof he ever needed.
He cried silently, looking at the now three year old child that was fast asleep in front of him. Her mouth agape, and little bit of drool slipping out of the corner of her mouth and into the couch cushion.
And that's when he heard it.
A very small, but very distinct and sharp intake of breath coming from where the staircase was.
He was frozen in place. He was afraid of what he might see, and more importantly, what he wouldn't see.
But that's when he heard it.
"Daryl?" She asked, her voice cracking slightly. He heard the voice that had clouded his mind and his dreams for the past couple of years clear as day. And that's when he finally looked at her.
He had prepared himself for the woman to be someone else. Hell, he even prepared himself to get shot for walking into someone's house unannounced. But he saw nothing but a striking pair of blue eyes.
There was no denying that soft face, the golden blonde hair falling around her shoulders.
The blue eyes that he never thought he'd ever see again were looking right back at him.
Her long hair was messy from sleeping, and ran all the way down to her elbows now. Her pale nightgown leaving barely anything to the imagination, nipples pressing against the soft fabric and her reading glasses perched upon the bridge of her nose.
It was her.
It was actually her.
It had been two years.
Two very long, sad, excruciatingly painful years.
Too long since he had seen her.
Too long since he had lost her.
Too long since he had not been able to tell her what he really felt.
"Beth." He finally said, it came out in a broken whisper as he stood to his feet.
Her eyes widened.
He saw tears flow freely from her eyes before she began throwing her arms around him. The initial shock of it all wearing off as he wrapped his own arms around her body, lacing his fingers together and pulling her towards his chest as he let out a breath he didn't even realize he had been holding.
"Please tell me this isn't a dream."
She said into his ear, hearing her cry softly between words, "please tell me I'm not imagining this."
"You ain't." He replied, pulling back away from her to look at her eyes, only to see they were filled to the brim with tears again. He brushed his fingers over her cheekbone and she blinked, letting the tears fall over the brink and down her face.
"I thought I'd never see you again." She said softly, looking down at her hands.
"'M sorry, beth." He said finally holding her face in his hands. "M' sorry I couldn't protect you m' sorry I lost you."
He closed his eyes, this time not seeing any of the images from before. This time, her face was there, but not the face from long ago. This face was the current one.
The alive one.
The one he had only dreamed still existed, and here she was in front of him.
He felt her hands come up and grip him around his wrists, but he didn't budge.
"Daryl." She said.
"Daryl, look at me."
He opened his eyes slowly, to the smile from the woman he loved.
"Daryl, there was nothing you could have done, do you understand me?"
"What happened?" He whispered, dropping his gaze to the floor. If he were being honest with himself, he really didn't want to know. It would make his guilt worse and he fucking knew that.
She shook her head, gripping his wrists tighter and brushing her thumbs soothingly along the back of his hand. She didn't want to talk about it, and he was fine with that because at the moment neither did he.
"Maggie.. Rick.. Michonne.." He trailed off, interrupted by Beth's sweet voice.
"Are all fine. They're here."
Daryl hung his head down in response, unable to stop the muffled sob that escaped his lips unwillingly. Beth released the grip from his wrists and gently placed one on the back of his head pulling him into her as he cried silently into her shoulder.
"I missed you." He finally said, pulling away from her slightly and cupping the side of her soft face with his hand. She laughed quietly, mindful of the child asleep a few feet away.
"I told ya." She said, blinking rapidly to fight off the tears from resurfacing.
He ducked his head down, the smile that had tucked itself away long ago resurfacing.
"Greene, I-" he felt the words getting caught in his vocal chords, felt his chest tightening and all but strangling his heart. He wasn't even sure what he was trying to say anymore. "I.. I shoulda told you. Shoulda told you this a long time ago"
"Tell me what, daryl?"
"Damnit, Greene. I ain't no good with words, you know that." He said in a huff, raising his voice slightly as he let his head fall back and rest against the hallway wall.
He felt two small hands on either sides of his face in that instance. They were pulling him down to face her and forcing him to look at her directly in the eye once more.
"Daryl, I'm not going anywhere. And neither are you." She said sternly. "you're not leaving my sight, not again. Not after last time." Her voice cracked at the last sentence, and he felt his heart break all over again.
She has missed him, maybe as much as he had missed her all this time.
"I ain't goin' nowhere greene." He said, pulling her against him as he nuzzled his face into here hair, kissing it lightly as she pressed herself against him.
"I ain't goin' nowhere, never again."
And so, It had been 10 years.
Ten years. Ten very long, very eventful years sense it all had began.
There was always to be moments of sadness, daryl knew this. Anyone who denied that would be a fool, and a fool daryl Dixon was not.
most of the memories daryl harbored of sadness remained neatly tucked into the first half of the past ten years. They resurfaced every now and again undoubtably, but they never clouded his mind as they did for one period of time.
But more importantly, the happiest of them all remained clearly in the spotlight, in the last five years of his existence.
There were always images in his mind, fleeting images that would materialize behind closed eyelids.
Yes, undeniably, the last decade of Daryl's life was incredibly clear, and without a doubt, they were the most important period of his life.
"Think fast!"
Daryl looked up just in time to catch the object being tossed at him, he caught it swiftly and shook his head at the grinning 19 year old a few feet away from him.
"Boy you best watch yourself." Daryl grumbled, turning over the object in his hands with a smile. Daryl looked up to Carl as he stood in front of him.
"Whatcha tryin' to say? I need to shave?" Daryl said, raising an eyebrow and pointing the electric shaver in his hand at Carl accusingly.
"Uh, yeah. That's exactly what I'm saying." Carl said, rolling his eyes and walking backwards towards the sidewalk. "You gotta look presentable tonight. I mean, I get you like being dirty and everything but Jesus Christ, take a shower."
Daryl scowled at him. "Ain't you got somewhere else to be? Where's your dad?"
"He's getting ready, which is exactly what you should be doing." He said, leaning on the fence post and pointing his finger in his direction, grinning like an idiot. Daryl rolled his eyes, as if he wasn't already on edge about the night to come, he had carl breathing down his neck and teasing him about it.
"Go on, git." He said, standing up off of his step on the porch. "I got shit ta do." Daryl reached for the handle on his front door but didn't get very far before another voice chimed in.
"Please tell me that isn't what you plan on wearing. Come on, daryl, I thought we went over this." Daryl turned his head to see Glenn shuffling up the porch steps, he groaned, loosening his grip on the handle of his door.
"Now what?" He grumbled at him, coming face to face with his stupid grin that matched carls.
"I'm helping you get ready." He said, his stupid grin getting even wider.
"The hell? What am I five years old? I can take a damn shower and get dressed by myself, Bruce Lee." Daryl heard carl snort out a laugh and he shot him a glare. Carl raised his hands defensively, still bearing that huge smile on his face before walking down the sidewalk.
"It's tradition." Glenn said, reaching for Daryl's door handle himself and yanking it open with ease. "Besides, I highly doubt you know how to tie a tie correctly." Daryl let out a breath and scoffed, walking inside and shutting the door behind him. "I coulda managed." He grumbled.
An hour later, daryl stood in front of the mirror in the hallway examining himself thoroughly, feeling like a damn idiot.
"This is stupid." He grumbled.
"You're stupid." Glenn muttered, adjusting the tie on Daryl's collar. "Besides, this whole thing was your idea."
"Didn't realize the fuss that came with it all."
"Oh give me a break." Glenn said, dropping his hands from Daryl's tie and walking over to his beer on the counter top, taking a long pull before leaning back against the counter. "She's a Greene, everything they do comes with a fuss." Glenn paused for a moment before continuing.
"I'll tell you, don't think I've ever seen you look this clean before." Glenn said jokingly. Daryl merely grunted in response, but didn't look his way. Instead, he stood in front of the long mirror, examining himself and his appearance once again. He had never worn a suit - much less one that looked and felt as expensive as the one he had on him was. And He wouldn't tell a damn soul, but he was nervous. Hell, who was he kidding, he was more than nervous. He was terrified.
He was so wrapped up in his thoughts he almost didn't realize someone else had made their way into the house.
"Oh daryl, you look wonderful." A voice came from the front door. He glanced over his shoulder to see carol walking in and shutting the door behind her, but not before Judith came bouncing through the house, the look of excitement etched on her face.
"Uncle daryl, are you ready?" Daryl tore his eyes away from the mirror to look down at her, her brown eyes waiting for an answer.
She had grown so much sense the first time he found her in this place. The little girl that was all frazzled running around calling for her mama, was now almost half his height, wearing the prettiest satin light yellow dress that stopped at her knees, matching it with a dainty pair of white dress flats. She was still young, that was for sure, but she had maturity light years beyond her actual age of eight.
"Yeah sweetheart," he said, swallowing his nervousness and trying to sound composed "I'm ready."
He glanced over his shoulder at carol, smiling at him warmly.
"Don't think I've ever seen ya in a dress before." He said, turning his focus back to the mirror in front of him, but speaking to carol.
"I don't think I've ever seen you in a suit before, either" She said, walking over to him and placing a hand on his shoulder. "Yeah well, don't get used to it." He said quietly, scratching his chin absentmindedly.
It was always like carol to sense his emotions before he ever did, that's why he wasn't the least bit surprised when she spoke again.
"You're gonna do fine, stop being so nervous." She squeezed his shoulder and daryl sent her a small smile through the mirror. He never thought in a million years he'd be in this position, but here he was. Only two hours away from it and scared shitless.
"Uncle daryl, are you going to dance with me tonight?" He chuckled, pulling his dress pants up slightly as he kneeled down, giving his body room to move into the new position. He came eye level with Judith.
"Now why would I pass up a dance with the prettiest girl I've ever seen." He said, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear as a pink color flooded her cheeks.
"Don't let Beth hear that!" Glenn called from over his shoulder, lacing his shoes up as he sat down in the couch. Daryl shook his head.
"Alright darlin', go on an' git. Uncle Daryl's got some stuff to do." He said, standing up and ruffling the girls hair. She pouted her lips - her knew way of getting whatever she wanted. And in this particular moment, she was using it against daryl to be able to stay.
"Uh uh," he said, shaking his head and walking away towards the bathroom. "That ain't workin' today, Jude."
Daryl opened the bathroom door and shut it quietly, turning the lock before he turned on the water faucet to splash some water on his face. This was it. And he knew it.
The latest development in Daryl's very long life was unfolding in front of him, and he wrung his hands vigorously in front of him out of sheer nervousness. He glanced to the benches ahead of him that were set up in a line and full of familiar faces. Some of the faces were old, and of course, some of the faces were new.
His eyes scanned the people that filled the seats in front of his very eyes, etching this moment into memory even though he was more anxious than he'd ever been in his life.
First they found Abraham and Rosita, cuddled together on the front row smiling up at him brightly. Daryl met the pair at terminus back before he'd lost track of everyone, but he didn't know them very well at the time.
After conversations with him when he had arrived at Alexandria, he had come to discover that Eugene hadn't made it. Also discovering that the only reason why the man with the dark mullet was being protected by the two was because he claimed to have a cure to the walkers, and the disease that everyone carried. Once they found out that he was in fact lying, Eugene was left alone to defend himself, and as far as daryl could tell, he was assumed dead.
He then saw Sasha, standing next to one of the residents of Alexandria and laughing in unison with those around her, bob tightly latched to her side, hand across her body from behind.
Then there was tyreese, sitting next to Abraham and rosita, smiling over as he watched Sasha from a distance. He had grown to love tyreese as well, regardless of whatever quarrels they had faced in the past.
Then there were the four men and the four women that stood in a line behind his nervous form and in front of it. The people he'd grown to love and care about more than anyone in this world, with the exception of the one person that wasn't in sight. At least not yet.
Rick grimes, the brother he'd never had. Memories danced across his vision of the first time they had met, as ridiculous and out of hand it was. Other flashes of sitting outside of the car after he had ripped a chunk of flesh out of that douchebags neck when he had indicated that they were brothers came to mind too.
Rick, without a doubt, was family. He was his brother. He was the father that merle never was, and never could be.
"Nervous?" Rick asked from behind him, a hint of a laugh lacing through his thick southern drawl.
Daryl nodded, no use in denying it now.
Then there was Glenn Rhee. Glenn had come such a long way sense they first met on the road in Atlanta. He was shy, yet knowledgable. He remembered vaguely catching Glenn sneaking away from the Greene house in the middle of the night after only being guests for three days. And here he was, standing tall, married, and with not one, but two children.
Glenn had always been there, and he came to love him not only as a friend, but as a brother just like rick.
Standing tall and strong right behind Glenn was none other than Carl grimes, Carl being almost like another son or a little brother in many ways. The kid used to piss him off constantly back in the day, what with his constant annoyance of always wanting to tag along, not to mention when he got wind of what was going on with beth and himself, carl couldn't shut his mouth about it.
But he loved him, loved him like he was his own.
Standing behind Carl, in the place he would have had Merle if not for his untimely demise, was Caleb Yates. An unlikely choice, some might say, but in Daryl's eyes he was perfect for the last spot in the groomsmen line.
If it hadn't been for Caleb looking past Daryl's rough and brash exterior, daryl wouldn't be standing where he is today. He wouldn't have found his family.
He wouldn't have found beth.
That's when his eayes flicked to the four in front of him, all standing in a row in such a way that he could see each of them clearly.
First there was Maggie. Maggie stood in all her glory, brown chestnut hair flowing past her shoulders now staring into Daryl's eyes and smiling warmly. An image of the conversation she demanded having once she realized there was something going on between her sister and himself made him have to choke back a laugh.
"Just promise me one thing, dixon." She had said. "Please, don't give her fleas." She had winked before she walked out the door.
Then his eyes met Michonne, who was busy straightening the back of Maggie's dress. Maggie turned around, sending that same warm smile to Michonne as she worked and sent her one in return.
He remembered seeing her for the first time in here when he had seen her without her katana for the first time. It was strange, almost as if she was missing one of her limbs. That's how he felt without his Horton, anyway.
Behind Michonne was none other than carol. Carol was the first person, other than beth anyway, that saw him for who he really was. Carol was damaged in all of the ways that he was, and he could imagine all of the bruises his body had at one point that more than likely mirrored those she had. Cracked ribs, busted eye, fractured hip bone. It wasn't hard to imagine the abuse because he had gone through it himself.
And regardless of his venomous words, and his horrible actions towards her, she was able to somewhat break down those walls he had built so high around his heart. He was thankful for that. He was thankful for that because if it hadn't have happened, he would probably never have been able to let beth in.
And if he never had let beth in, he wasn't sure he'd even be breathing today.
He shook that image away when his eyes laid on Judith again.
She was eight years old, and beautiful. He hated himself in that moment for assuming she had died so long ago. She was strong. She was happy. And more importantly, she was alive. Alive and experiencing the life that lori had sacrificed herself for. She was that little glimmer of light in the darkest of times. He loved her the first moment he had laid eyes on her. He broke his focus when he heard music. Soft, low music playing in the background.
That's when the world stopped spinning around him.
That's when his breath caught in his throat because everything had gone quiet.
That's when he lifted his eyes to see the image that wouldn't leave his mind as long as he lived.
There was beth Greene in all her glory, walking down the pathway to meet him looking more beautiful than she ever had, if that were possible.
She was wearing a simple white sundress, white heels to match that made her seem taller as her legs were bared to his eyes. She walked down the isle alone, she had insisted on this because she wouldn't have wanted anyone other than her father to do so, even though he wasn't there to do it.
A few of the children, including Glenn and Maggie's two daughters, Hannah and Claire had thrown petals down the isle as flower girls.
As he saw her, he couldn't help the thoughts that drifted into his mind. Her soft white thighs wrapped around his thighs as he pushed himself into her. The way she gasped his name as if it were a prayer. The wetness from her core leaking upon her thighs as he dropped his face between her legs, tasting that beautiful taste that was so perfect. So beth. The way she had dragged him upstairs, only days after they had found each other again.
"Daryl, please." She had begged. And damn if he could have denied her, placing his body between her thighs as he unbuckled his belt and undid his jeans, all the while staring into those ocean colored bright eyes.
"I love you." She had said as soon as he pushed himself into her. He brushed her hair out of her face before he moved again. "And I love you."
Beth had walked gingerly and slowly up to where daryl was before taking his hands in her own.
"I love you." She said quietly, waiting on father Gabriel to continue the service.
"I love you too." He said in return.
So yes, Daryl's life consisted of many fleeting images. Images of people he had loved dearly and lost, but more importantly, people in his life now that he loved and vowed to care for, for the rest of his life.
The painful things long forgotten, daryl began to choose to live In the now. The now with the beautiful woman in front of him. The now with the family he loved surrounding him. The now, with the horrible memories tucked in a safe place, and his mind focused on everything in front of him. And everything ahead.