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The room was large and a piercing, beautiful light radiated within it, originating from a source Daryl couldn't quite place.
He looked down, and noticed his ratty clothes were clean and brand new once more. Daryl's crossbow was missing as well as his other weapons.
"Where am I?" Daryl's voice ricocheted around the bright room, reverberating in his bones. For a brief moment he actually thought he was in heaven, but then he remembered that he didn't believe in all that hope and faith that Beth always carried on about. He dismissed the possibility.
A glimmer of white caught his eye, and he turned his head to see the last person he expected to see.
Hershel Greene sat in the corner, and his clothes were pure white, just spotless. He looked at Daryl expectantly and smiled a reassuring smile that bordered on the line of humorous.
"Hey son." Hershel's gruff voice spoke with an air of reverence.
Daryl shuffled towards the lost, prison patriarch.
"Hershel?" Daryl questioned.
The hoary headed man then stood up and came face to face with Daryl. Daryl couldn't comprehend what was happening. He felt as if he had been standing toe to toe with Hershel for days, maybe even years.
Hershel finally placed his hand on Daryl's shoulder and began to speak.
"Thank you."
It was a simple phrase, but it had Daryl dumbstruck. Hershel had thanked him, but thanked him for what? For letting his head get chopped off by the Governor? For letting his Beth get taken by some freak? The words had anger spiking in the place under his eyes, and it had him itching to shed himself of the gratitude Hershel had extended his way. He didn't deserve anything.
"For what?" Daryl breathed.
Hershel looked at him in the way that fathers look at their children when they ask simple questions.
"You know why." Hershel grinned.
What kind of game was he playing? Daryl didn't know, but he wasn't enjoying it.
"What're you talkin' about?!" Daryl nearly shouted.
Hershel shifted his head back and laughed.
"You should give yourself more credit, boy."
"For what reason would you possibly have to thank me? I let all those bad things happen! I let my guard down and everything went south! If –
Hershel cut him off with a sharp, "Enough."
Daryl looked shocked as Hershel's expression softened.
"Now you are going to accept my thanks, you hear me?"
Daryl was at a loss for words and simply just looked at Hershel with a pleading look.
"For taking care of my Beth, and teaching her how to survive" Hershel replied.
A pang of sorrow crinkled from within his chest, Daryl hadn't taught her enough. Not enough.
"It wasn't enough." Daryl whispered to himself more than anyone.
Hershel shook his head and grinned at the floor.
"You should give her more credit too, son."
He felt as if his body had been sucked through a vacuum when he awoke on the ground. The late afternoon sun was hung high in the sky, blinding Daryl as he sat up from his deep sleep.
The dream had been so real, and Daryl shook his head to clear his fuddled mind.
Daryl never had many dreams, but when he did he paid attention to them. He thought about Hershel and his gratitude in his dream. He thought about Beth trying to survive without anyone. Maybe he didn't give her the credit she was worth, and maybe she was doing just fine without him. But Daryl couldn't take that chance.
Daryl knew he had to keep going. He knew he had to earn the gratitude.
Despite the ache in his over-used muscles, and the burning in his throat from lack of water, Daryl willed himself to stand. The ache of his body paled in comparison to the desire to find Beth, to make her safe again.
Up ahead he noticed a herd approaching. Daryl knew he was outnumbered ten to one, but he didn't care.
Daryl cocked his crossbow and took off running towards the walkers obstructing his path.
He would go through hell and high water to get to Beth. He'd do whatever it took.
He'd do anything for her.
For Beth.
