Daryl finds refuge at Hilltop, but must deal with the emotional fallout that accompanies it.
Knight of the Living Dead
"Everybody's got dead people. It's no excuse to get everybody else dead along the way." Rocket, Guardians of the Galaxy
"As far as he's concerned you're dead—so you better find a place where you can stay that way—at least for awhile."
He couldn't go back to Alexandria, which was the first place Negan would look. He'd punish them if he found them giving refuge to a runaway. So instead he made his way to Hilltop, hoping that Jesus and their prick of a leader, Gregory, would be willing to help him.
He'd hoped to find Maggie there as well. She hadn't looked good even before what had happened... thought they were probably taking her to the doc at Hilltop and after everything she'd still need to go there. He planned to offer up himself in any plan they wanted to take down the Saviors. It was all he could think to do to even start to make up for what he'd done, the losses he'd cost her...
Daryl was in terrible shape, physically; had passed out twice and almost wrecked the junker Jeep Dwight had boosted and left for him hidden a mile from Sanctuary, just where he said it would be. He'd have preferred his bike, or one of the big hogs he'd seen in the yard or even a dirt bike, but he knew with his shoulder the way it was he couldn't have stayed on it. He barely made it to the territory controlled by Hilltop, ditching the Jeep after he got it stuck in the mud that formed an outer ring barrier if you tried getting there by any way but the main road. After a tortuous slog and climb to the top of the hill, he collapsed at the front gates, almost skewered by a spear for his trouble until Sasha recognized him.
He woke up in their infirmary to Dr. Carson putting his shoulder back in, almost passing out again with the relief from the agony he'd lived with since Negan had cheerfully instructed his men to dislocate it a week ago after they'd gotten back from Alexandria. He'd been frustrated that some of Rick's people were still showing signs of defiance, including Daryl, whose spirit he couldn't break, so he settled for breaking his body instead, refusing to let their Carson repair it.
"Will he be all right?" Maggie asked, her voice hoarse with what sounded like concern, but that couldn't be right, Daryl thought. She hated him now.
"He's severely malnourished, was stabbed and later shot in the same shoulder at close range, has contusions and wounds over most of his body—the shoulder dislocation was the most painful injury—but... but it looks like he's been tortured; has several cracked ribs, burn marks on his feet and back... and the open wound on his arm... this man was savaged."
"But not bit? He'll be okay?" Maggie asked, the South Georgia coming out in her drawl.
"With time, yes. He'll recover." the doctor assured her.
"Good." she replied, sounding relieved.
But why would she be? He'd killed her husband.
"Let me know when he wakes?" Maggie asked.
"Oh, he's awake." Carson said blandly, aware Daryl was playing possum, moving to the basin to wash his hands and then dry them on a white towel before giving Maggie a knowing smile and exiting the room.
"I'm glad you're safe." Maggie said gently, moving closer to the examining table where Daryl lay.
Daryl couldn't speak. Or move.
"Daryl?" she reached out her hand to his, but he flinched back, his body curling in on itself protectively. When he didn't respond Maggie sighed and stepped back.
"There's food and water in the next room for you." she told him encouragingly, "We're on short rations so it's not much, but your stomach probably can't handle much right now. When you're ready there's a change of clothes and some boots there for you too." she started to go, but paused in the doorway, "I'm glad you're here." she added softly, "We need you with us."
"Why?" Daryl rasped, sounding bewildered. How could she say that? After what he'd done, what he'd caused?
"Because we're family." Maggie said firmly.
Hearing her say words so much like the ones Glenn had used to try and convince him not to leave with Merle after Woodbury made Daryl's throat close up and tears come to his eyes.
"You get some rest now." Maggie soothed, "I'll be back later." she promised, and then she was gone.
"He's shouldering all the blame." Maggie said, sitting at the picnic table outside the Clinic nursing a cup of one of Carson's god awful herbal tea blends, this one supposedly good for pregnancies.
"Same as he did after Grady... we've seen him like this before." Sasha agreed. "He just has to work through it."
"Well, I wish Carol was here to help." Maggie gave a sad smile, "She and he have always had a special bond..."
"I'm heading out at dusk for Alexandria." Jesus said, "Do you want me to see if she'll come back with me?" He hadn't seen the woman during his brief stay at Alexandria, but if she was indeed close to the Archer, maybe she was exactly what he needed.
"She's not there." Maggie said, "She left right before all this started; Rick told us he and Morgan went out searching right after Daryl left that day, but they didn't find her and Morgan never came back either."
Glenn, Michonne and Rosita had already left to chase after Daryl when Rick came to see if Maggie knew anything about where Carol might go. They had been through their own harrowing experience with the Saviors less than a week before, but she and Carol had never really tried to talk to each other about what had happened there. It was as if they both just wanted to forget it and move on.
"Tobin didn't go after her?" Sasha asked.
"No. Just Rick and Morgan." Maggie told them. She'd been surprised when Carol had taken up with the tall Alexandrian, distancing herself from her old group, but then decided maybe that was how she was trying to cope with what they'd had to do.
"So she left him?" Sasha frowned. The thing with Tobin had confused her, unsure if it was part of her happy homemaker cover or if she was finally really giving up on Daryl. Like Maggie said, everyone knew they were especially close, their reunion in the woods outside Terminus a very visible testament to that fact, but his awkward ways seemed to keep it from developing into anything more. She'd always been of the opinion that Carol cared too much about him to push for more and risk losing him all together.
"I don't know. Rick said she left him a note, but I don't know what was in it." Maggie admitted, wishing now she'd pressed for more information. She'd been in a hurry to get ready for her haircutting appointment with Enid and though concerned about Carol, felt Rick could handle the search. Besides, if Carol didn't want to be found, she wouldn't be.
"Well, for God's sake don't tell Daryl she's missing!" Sasha blurted. "He's drowning in enough grief and guilt and blame without worrying about her too. If there's anyone who can take care of herself out there, it's Carol. "
"Color me intrigued." Jesus grinned, "What's she look like in case I happen to run into her on the road?"
"That's right, you didn't meet here when you were there." Maggie remembered. He hadn't spent much time in Alexandria and had only met a few of the people there. "She's about five five or five six, big blue eyes, cap of gray hair, petite but deadly. Carries a trench knife and sniper rifle, both of which she uses with deadly accuracy."
"She also makes pretty damn good cookies." Sasha smiled, remembering better times.
"She's the cookie maker? Ah." Jesus nodded thoughtfully to himself, "That makes sense now."
"What?" Maggie frowned.
"Something Daryl said to me once..." he let his voice trail off as his attention was caught by something behind Maggie and Sasha. He rapidly stood and rushed in the direction of his gaze, making Maggie and Sasha turn to look.
"Stubborn son of a—" Maggie muttered and rose as well.
Daryl was leaning heavily on the frame of doorway into the Clinic and his hair hanging over most of his face didn't conceal the wince of agony as he shuffled forward. He was wearing the clothes she'd left him including pull on boots so he didn't have to try and tie shoe laces one handed. He hadn't been able to remove the tight sling that bound his arm to his body to keep him from moving it and aggravating the shoulder injury or even popping it back out if he tried using it too hard, so he only had one arm in the sleeve of the flannel shirt; the other he'd tucked into the sling so his back would be covered.
When Jesus reached him he ignored Daryl's glare and went under the free arm to help support him, pulling it over his own shoulders. Anyone who knew Daryl well would've hesitated before attempting the move, and it spoke of his weakened condition that he allowed it. They continued walking forward until they reached Sasha. Daryl stopped and though he kept his head down, he looked up at her through his bangs, his guilt at surviving when the two women had lost the ones they loved apparent in his wince of shame.
"It's good to see you, Daryl." Sasha said gently, "We're so glad you're okay and here with us."
Daryl shook his head slowly back and forth in denial.
"You're not the boss of me." Sasha said, putting a little of the attitude she used to give Tyreese into her words, "I can be happy to see you if I want to be."
Daryl snorted out a derisive grunt.
"You shouldn't be up yet." Maggie told him, her tone concerned.
"Got shit to do." Daryl said, finally succeeding in shrugging off Jesus' help and standing straighter though it was easy to see how much the effort cost him. His bruised face was pale as milk, eyes blue bloodshot slits inside puffed swollen and red sockets when he finally raised them to look at the three of them.
"You're not doing anything until you take some time and get your strength back." Maggie insisted, pointing Jesus towards the picnic table bench to make Daryl sit. He herded the other man towards it.
"There ain't no time!" Daryl almost shouted before reluctantly sinking down onto the bench seat, angry at being betrayed by his body and showing weakness. "He don't buy Dwight's story, Negan knows I'm gone and he's gonna head for Rick n' then take it outa his hide."
"Dwight?" Sasha asked.
"He helped get me out—was on retrieval detail outside the fences—supposed to tell Negan I was taken out by walkers, nothin' much left. Took my clothes and my devil to throw in with some other chewed up body parts..."
"Your arm wound... oh my God..." Maggie said, understanding dawning. The bandage was directly over where Daryl had a tattoo of a small devil on the inside of his right bicep. The skin had been removed; the tat excised leaving a wound roughly two by three inches there.
"You let him cut it out of your arm?" Sasha asked, incredulous.
"You're Iron Man." Jesus shook his head back and forth in amazement.
Daryl shrugged. He'd done what he had to do.
"So now what?" Sasha asked, "Negan buys that you're dead, what next?"
"He'll use it against Rick—try to somehow—he's a sick fuck." Daryl huffed. "Need to let Rick know I'm alive and then we need to find more people to get our numbers up so's we can go up against the Saviors. Dwight knew of a group south of Sanctuary where they get their pork, place called the Kingdom. He went there to talk to them."
"It's run by a dude who calls himself King Ezekiel." Jesus nodded and then grinned, covering his mouth with his hand and chuckling, "He has a fucking real live Siegfried and Roy tiger as a pet." then he sobered, adding thoughtfully, "We've tried to bring him in on an alliance against Negan before, but he refused, said he has a deal with them protecting his people in exchange for the goods they give them. He won't be easy to convince."
"I'll convince him." Daryl said darkly, "Don't care if he's fuckin' King Kong with a T-Rex on a leash. We need him and his people. Rick n' me will go meet with him; explain the way things are." he looked at Jesus, "You know him, we could use you too. Give us an in."
"I'm coming too." Sasha said, "You'll need back up."
"No. You already been through enough." Daryl shook his head at her. "You should stay here; help Maggie."
"I'm not some little woman to wait on the sidelines at home, Daryl." Sasha bit out, "Those monsters took from me—from all of us—and you better believe I'm going to see to it that they pay."
"What happens next time they show up and one of our best fighters ain't here?" Daryl argued."They need you here, same as Alexandria needed Carol when the Wolves came."
At the mention of that name Jesus, Maggie and Sasha shared a quick worried look and then stared at the ground.
Being observant, Daryl saw it and a flash of pain passed over his face.
"Is she dead?" he asked in a quiet dry parched whisper, part of him knowing that would be a just punishment for him. He'd cost Maggie the people she loved most. God could take the same from him in retribution. When he hadn't seen her in Alexandria he had worried she was lost to him, but his brain couldn't hold onto that and also give him the will to keep going.
"I don't know, Daryl... I just... I don't know..." Maggie said, deep regret in her eyes.
"She's gone Daryl... left sometime in the night before you went after Dwight." Sasha told him.
"Gone?" Daryl asked, stunned, guilty. How had he not seen it in her? He'd been with her, that night, at Denise's graveside... She'd tried to leave before; only this time he'd had his head up his ass and hadn't been there to stop her. Yeah, he'd been too full of his own fucking need for revenge and it had cost him yet another member of his family.
"She took a car. She left a note saying not to come after her, but Rick and Morgan looked for her." Maggie explained, and then winced, adding more softly "Only Rick came back."
Daryl felt the same wave of helplessness roll through him as he'd felt that night on the road kneeling in front of Negan. It had made him act without thinking, ready to take on the monster that just killed his friend, who was taunting another, just like the monster he'd grown up with. Hit me, not them, I can take it...
"She's strong and she's smart, Daryl." Sasha reminded him, "You know he can take care of herself and for that matter so can Morgan."
"Don't none of that matter if Negan gets his hands on 'em." Daryl said, standing resolutely, swaying though, still too weak to walk on his own, his own evidence of the damage that the leader of the Saviors was capable of doing.
Maggie jumped up and took his good arm to support him.
Daryl's body stiffened, his first impulse to shrug her off, but all of the things she was to him, all his guilt and concern over her pregnancy passed across his face and made him allow her to help him.
"You're headin' to Alexandria tonight." Daryl told Jesus. "And I'm coming with you."
"No—Negan has people stationed all around there. It's too risky." Jesus said, nodding his head back and forth."As far as he's concerned you're dead—so you better find a place where you can stay that way—at least for awhile."
"This Kingdom? How close does he keep tabs on it?" Maggie asked.
"As far as I know they have a good deal with him; never late with their tribute, Negan's been pretty hands off with them after their first lesson."
"First lesson..." Sasha spat, her deep seated righteous anger barely in check.
"Yeah." Jesus sighed; sorry he had to talk about it with the two women most affected by Negan's "lesson" to Alexandria.
"So he murders someone as an example, this King falls into line." Daryl said flatly. "Gotta be some resentment from..." he looked uneasily at Sasha and Maggie, "You know, the family of whoever he killed."
"Big guy—Zeke's right hand man—Richard. It was his brother." Jesus told them.
"He's our in then." Daryl exchanged a nod with the other man.
"Listen Dixon, it's going to take me at least two days to skirt the patrols and get Rick back here. You need to do what the Doc—."
"I'll be ready to go when you get back." Daryl interrupted, clearly meaning he was going no matter what Carson said.
"You're not going anywhere if you don't get some rest." Maggie said resolutely and started to try and lead him back into the Clinic, leaning in and adding in almost a whisper, "You can't look for her if you don't..."
Daryl briefly resisted but then a look of utter exhaustion chased by a grimace and then a look of shame showed just how much pain he was still in and how much he hated the feeling of helplessness.
The fear that another person he cared about could be lost to him was like a cold knife at his throat.
The Daryl before the quarry outside Atlanta had always been a man who reacted, a creature of impulse,something he'd fought and only overcome when forced to hide to save him from another beating or learn the patience for a successful hunt. When wounded in spirit he reverted to that version of himself that lashed out blindly.
What he needed to be now was the better version of him that had been honed by the love and caring of his new family, the one who was not just observant, but who could carefully plan with the best of them. That was the man who would find Carol and defeat Negan.
Caryl reunion at the Kingdom coming soon! Thanks for reading; it's what keeps me writing;-)
