Strip a man of his knowledge of time, and he should become as disoriented as a sheep with her back to the grass. The group had been confined to the suffocating boxcar for four days, but they had only been given food twice, for their weakened minds perceived time as if two excruciatingly long days had passed. They had yet to be overpowered by despair due to the relief and joy their reunion had brought them, but the novelty would not last forever. Very soon, even the warmth of each other's presence would wear out, and they would be left with a dark room and occasional strangled sobs. Yes, one of the most powerful pain a person could experience came from getting miraculously close to hope, only for it to be crushed just before one could actually touch it.
Rick's initial resolution faded overtime; he had hoped they would get at least an opportunity to glance at the outside world, for it would have given them a wider range of possibilities, but their captors were smart that way – they were never to see the light. From Maggie's tales, the lightless treatment could go on for as long as they deemed fit… and a feebly constructed revolution would not aid them in that matter. So, as the days passed, Rick and his once strong-willed allies succumbed to the more popular attitude: sulking.
TWD
Glenn and Maggie were the only metaphorical light in the group. Though they would never admit it, they enjoyed watching the blissful couple, as it reminded them of what hope looked like. Both were hungry, tired and sore, but they insisted on flashing a smile at each other whenever they woke up, or whenever they sensed the other was needing it. They even came up with a game to cheer everyone up, and for that, Rick was endlessly grateful: they needed everyone at least slightly conscious for if an opportunity to escape arose.
"C'mon, 'Chone, it's your turn." Maggie insisted, grinning, and Glenn pinched her cheek, playful.
The black woman sighed. "Hum… can I bring a knife?"
"Nope." She replied, and everyone groaned. "You guys are getting slow, it's my turn again. If I were in a zombie apocalypse, I would bring a… kitten."
Carl chuckled. "You'd never last a day with those kinds'a things. Seriously, a flower and a kitten? What, can I bring a puppy?"
"Yes!" Maggie clapped and hid further in Glenn's embrace. "Yes, you can. D'ya want to take a guess, smartypants?"
The purpose of the game was very simple: one person would make up a rule for what people could bring to a zombie apocalypse, an everyone would get their turn to guess what the rule was – for that, they each had to ask the person in charge if they could bring something, and then if they could, they could take a guess at what the rule was.
"Nah, not yet." The young boy declined, already deep in thought.
"Rick, your turn." Glenn said.
"Can I bring a butterfly?" The man asked, smirking and exaggerating on the falsetto.
"I resent the tone, mister." Maggie scolded him teasingly. "But yes, yes, you may."
"I'll refrain from guessing, then. I'd rather give Daryl the chance. Go, man." Rick laughed and patted his shoulder.
Everyone eyed him expectantly, and though he could not see any of their faces, he could feel their worried frowns burning into his vacant eyes. He merely grunted. He had told them enough times not to include him in their silly games, but that had never stopped them from trying. Maggie's soft encouragement only made his chest constrict even more, and he leant tiredly against the wall. Glenn sighed and motioned for Sasha to say something. As the game kept on, Daryl focused on the darkness.
Sometimes, if his eyes were squinted enough, he could make out shapes in that deep dark cloud of dust and nothing, and they kept him entertained for a few minutes. He had slept for the most part of their stay there, catching up on the sleep lost from his nights on watch, and he was thankful to always fall into a dreamless sleep. He did not think he could afford any dreams right now.
Though someone was always talking, and he always had a hand or leg brushing against either his feet or his legs, the darkness reminded him of being alone, and it tore at his sanity more often than not. Sometimes he resented Beth for that; the little blonde had reminded him of what it felt not to be alone, and it was addictive. He had got used to it… and sometimes he wanted to scream at how mad he was that Beth could not leave him be. You know, whenever he was not busy thinking of how much he missed her.
TWD
Maggie's only response to Daryl's explanation of she's gone. Not dead, but gone had been a trembling lip and a suddenly strong look in her eyes. She's alive, I can feel it, she had said, and Daryl wanted to believe it more than anything. At the same time, however, he could do everything but.
TWD
One day - or night, they could never be sure -, the door opened and the small ray of light that they always relished was slightly bigger than usual. They must be becoming more trusting, Rick thought. A hooded figure appeared, and all eyes fell on the big bag of food it brought. They heard a low grunt of pain as the figure carried the bag closer to them, and the trembling legs supporting the slim body nearly faltered as they hit Rick's side.
"Sorry." The murmur was choked, and they could tell the apology was real.
" 'S okay, ma'am." Rick shrugged, and the figure gasped. The girly gasp claimed everyone's attention, and Rick's eyes narrowed as he attempted a look at her face. "It can't be…" He whispered, in shock.
"Rick?" Maggie and Glenn crawled closer to the door.
The girl stood motionless as they all gawked at her. Those closer to the door, due to the dim light, could see her trembling hands coming out of way too long black sleeves. Gradually, her heavy breathing turned into sobs, and the sobs into full-scale crying.
"Beth?"
The group sucked a collective breath as they heard the redneck's incredulous tone. Maggie started crying, and Glenn's eyes watered. "It's a dream. It's a dream. It'sadream… it'sadr…" Beth's mumblings echoed in the shocked boxcar.
"Oh, Beth…" Maggie sobbed. "You're alive." The brunette stood up shakily, aided by Rick and Glenn's hands, and walked towards the weak girl. Without hesitation, she lunged into an embrace that nearly knocked them off their feet, but Beth's arms remained fallen at her sides, numb. "Sweet girl, you're alive."
"Maggie…" The blonde whispered.
"Yeah, honey, it's me." A watery chuckle escaped her lips, and everyone smiled in relief.
"Oh, Magg- Maggie…"
"What is it, Bethy?" She murmured into her hair, kissing the top of her head. "I can't believe this. I have you back."
"Daryl." The world felt final in Beth's mouth. It felt weird to be saying it out loud. Usually she would say his name to be reminded of his face, but no sound would ever come out. She did not think she had spoken a word in the entire time of her kidnapping, and the only sounds she uttered were the involuntary screams of agony from every time she had tried – and failed – to escape.
"He's here. He's okay." Maggie assured her, but she knew Beth was not paying any attention to her words. Her entire body had stiffened when Daryl had called out for her, and she knew her little sister was searching the barely visible crowd for him.
TWD
Daryl could not move a muscle. He was sitting in the farthest corner from the door, beside Michonne and Sasha, and his hands were paralysed at Beth's sight. He could not stand up, and even breathing was becoming increasingly difficult. He was not used, and hoped he would never be, to feeling so much despair and joy at once. It was draining him of the little energy he still had left.
He noticed how both Michonne and Sasha gave him space – and how something that was meant to help him only made him feel worse. Beth saying his name had broken him into edgy shatters, and he was truly paralysed from fear. They had broken her. And it was nobody's fault but his.
He did not see her approaching him, but he could hear her sobs. Closing his eyes for the sake of his sanity, he let his hands remain on his knees. She knelt down with a soft thud, as if her legs just gave out, and fell into his chest, her cheek on his heart, her hands on his hips. "I never thought… I never let myself think I'd see you again."
At the broken tone, Daryl finally returned the soft embrace with needless force. His hands touched her back, and he could feel a thick wetness near her neck. Blood. Anger rose in his chest, and he kissed the top of her head, pulling her towards him and allowing for her to sit in his lap.
"They'll be expectin' me. They don't know… Daryl." She whimpered.
"You're not goin' anywhere." He brushed her shoulder gently and welcomed the tired, and yet relieved sigh that escaped her lips.
As she succumbed to tiredness, he felt her smile. "You did miss me."
A/N: So, what did you guys think?
