Chapter One-Found

They found her nearly catatonic huddled under a bridge with her arms wrapped around her knees. She was bloody and bruised from head to toe and appeared to have been out in the elements for quite some time. She was in shorts and had red welts on the backs of her thighs. Her eyes stared ahead blankly and her long, dark brown hair hung around her face in greasy strings. Her bloodied wrists hung over her knees. She clutched a bloody knife in her right hand. Aaron and Daryl approached her cautiously. They called out to her. She remained frozen and gave no response or hint of awareness of their presence. As they neared her broken form, they could tell she had been beaten badly. Both eyes were swollen almost shut and bruises both old and new covered her exposed arms and legs. Her wounds seemed to be at least a day or two old. Daryl raised his voice while approaching her with arms out to his side, palms up, "Hey!" he called. No response. She stared straight ahead seeing nothing. He knelt beside her and gently placed a hand on her knee. He leaned forward trying to look her in the eyes. "Hey," he said quietly now. He didn't want to spook her. He reached over and gently but firmly wrestled the knife from her tight grip. Her hand stayed clenched as if still holding her weapon. He stepped back towards Aaron.

"Whadya think?" he asked squinting against the sun.

"I think it's pretty obvious she's been fucked up by someone. Let's check her for bites and see if we can get her into the truck."

Daryl returned to the girl, and kneeling, he announced his intentions, "I'm just gonna check you over." She let him. Not moving, but letting herself be manipulated like a rag doll. He saw bite marks on her chest and when he opened her blouse he could see her breasts and collarbones were also covered in what appeared to be human bites. No walker would be able to keep biting like that without finally taking flesh with it. These bites were not from a walker. He moved his eyes down to her thighs and could tell she'd been whipped with a switch or a belt.

"Jesus Christ. Someone's done a number on this poor girl," Daryl sighed and with that he picked her up with one arm under her knees and another behind her back. She hung in his arms like a dead body. She was tiny, but her dead weight made Daryl grunt as he adjusted her in his arms and walked back to the truck.

When they got there, he attempted to get her to drink, but she let the water just dribble from her mouth. With encouragement from Daryl however, he finally got her to take a few swallows. Her lips were chapped and cracked and split on one side, dried blood caking down her chin. After her third swallow, her eyes lifted for the briefest of moments to take Daryl in. Her resigned look gave Daryl pause and he shuddered as he swung her legs into the truck and closed the door. She promptly slumped over onto her side. He returned to the cab for the trip back to Alexandria.

As they road along the deserted country road, he spoke quietly to Aaron.

"Some asshole got a hold of her and fuck, I mean look at her! What the fuck?"

"Yea, it ain't walkers we got to worry about now so much as other human beings," Aaron replied.

"Makes me sick." Daryl sighed and slunk down in his seat with his foot on the dash gnawing on his thumb. He did not say another word for the rest of the two-hour drive home, but stared out the window feeling like he really did want to throw up.

xXx

Upon their arrival in Alexandria, Daryl carried the girl to the infirmary and deposited her into the care of the doctor and nurse who served their community, healing the wounded and sick. He left her knowing that it was likely she might never recover to her former self. As he walked back to the home he shared with Rick and Carl, he wondered what she had looked like before the world went to shit, who she was and how she ended up under that bridge. Everyone had a story, some worse than others. Her story was obviously landing on the worse side. He only hoped she would eventually find her way back.

Daryl's mood remained dark and foul for the rest of the week. His family kept a wide girth and knew better than to press him on the details of his last recruiting mission. Even Carol let him be, lest he lash out with some biting remark that he'd only regret later. She'd spare him that. Time is what Daryl needed, and space. But no matter how hard he tried he couldn't get the thoughts of the girl out of his mind. Who was she? Was she going to recover? What had she been through?

Despite his thoughts being consumed with concern for a girl he didn't even know, he made his best attempt to resume his normal life within the walls of Alexandria. He spent most of his days working on a Triumph motorcycle in Aaron's garage. He was rebuilding the bike using scavenged parts. The work kept his mind and body busy. He felt solace while he worked and he appreciated being alone with his own thoughts without having to make banal small talk with the rest of Alexandria's residents.

Aaron and his boyfriend, Eric, respected Daryl's quiet ways and did not push him for conversation. Sometimes, they'd bring him a sandwich or ask him to dinner in an attempt to connect with the recluse. But, Daryl was not an excellent guest at these domestic affairs. There was no doubt, however, that he appreciated the food. His enthusiasm for eating demonstrated by his hand over fist hold on the fork as he ate quickly and efficiently stopping to wipe his mouth on his sleeve or lick something off his fingers. He made quick work of whatever was put in front of him to the quiet amusement of his hosts. Conversation consisted of Aaron or his boyfriend asking a question and Daryl nodding or grunting either an affirmative or negative response. Sometimes a one or two word answer was given but he never asked a question himself or made any attempt to extend the talking at the table. When done, he would stand while pushing his chair out and utter, "Thanks. Tha' was good," and then he'd leave. It never occurred to him that the boys might enjoy his company or wish to hang out with him after dinner. He'd just leave, lighting a cigarette on their porch and smoke while walking home. Aaron and Eric would sometimes stand at the window and have a laugh as they watched him go. They liked Daryl.

On his walk home, Daryl would usually stop by the infirmary and inquire about the girl he and Aaron had brought in. He never presumed to actually visit her. He'd just inquire in his shy way about how she was doing. She was always the same. The nurse on duty would report that although her wounds were healing, she had yet to respond to any questions and basically stayed in her bed staring at the wall most of the time. The nurse would encourage Daryl to enter but he always begged off. The last thing he wanted to do was remind the girl of her time outside. Best just let her get on with it in her own way. In peace.

Six weeks later however, the nurse had something new to report. The girl had gotten up in the night, snuck past the night nurse on duty and got a hold of a pair of scissors from the front office. She had used the scissors to hack off all of her hair, which had hung almost to her waist. The nurse sighed sadly describing how beautiful her hair had been, thick, auburn, brown and wavy. The nurses found her the next morning shorn almost to her scalp, her hair scattered on the bathroom floor staring, yet again, at her favorite wall.

Daryl was oddly disturbed by the news. His heart leapt in his chest at the thought of her self-destruction. He was both puzzled and bothered by her act and could not reconcile as to why. For days he thought about her and why she did it, avoiding the infirmary in a pointed way. A sadness would suddenly creep into him every time his mind, of its own accord, would flick to thoughts of her. He began to make a concerted effort to erase her from his mind. It was just all too disturbing and in a weird way he couldn't understand why he even cared. He had seen the same or worse in the years since the start of this crap. Why did he give a damn about this one girl? He resolved to put her out of his mind.