Chapter 9

Daryl didn't know where he was. It was dark and he was cold. He was sitting on a concrete floor and naked. He shoulder still hurt like a bitch, but he felt a bandage over the bullet wound from where Dwight had shot him. He was trying to remember what had happened after that.

Loud music began to play in the darkness. It sounded like some children's song, upbeat and annoying as hell. That's when the events of the past day began coming back to him.

Abraham. Glenn.

Daryl just sat there, curled up into the tightest ball he could manage in the corner. The door opened, the light immediately blinding Daryl. He saw a figure come in. Dwight. Dwight threw a paper plate on the floor that had a sandwich on it. He didn't say a word and shut the door.

Daryl reached out for the food. He took one bite and threw up. It was dog food. At this moment, Daryl truly wanted to die. He watched helplessly as 2 of his friends, no his family, were brutally murdered in front of him. He couldn't do anything about it. And Glenn, that was all on him. He knew it was his fault Glenn was gone. If he hadn't gone after Negan like that, Glenn would still be here. He would be able to see his baby being born.

And what is happening to the rest of his family now? Were they still alive? Was Alexandria still standing? And what off the Hilltop? Did Negan know that Max and Jesus helped them?

Max. Daryl couldn't get the woman out of his mind. He was so scared for her. In just a short time, she made him look at things differently, look at the world differently, look at himself differently. She HAD to be okay. She just had to.

Daryl didn't know how long it had been since he last slept. He certainly hadn't closed his eyes since he'd been in this dark room. Shut that fuckin' music off!

It was the same routine. Dwight coming in to give him his sandwich and leaving him back in the dark. Daryl was able to stomach it sometimes. He knew they were trying to break him. He knew they had seen the scars on his back, letting them know that he could withstand any type of physical torture. No, they were trying to break his mind, his spirit, not his body. He couldn't let that happen. Balance, he thought. He kept replaying the image in his mind of Max standing there beside him, holding his hand at Denise's grave.

Dwight opened the door and threw some clothes at Daryl. It was a pair of dirty sweatpants and sweatshirt. At least he's not naked anymore. Dwight then took Daryl outside. The sun was blinding, but felt good shining on Daryl's face. Balance.

Dwight was shoving him against a fence, making him look at the other prisoners fighting with the undead. He told him he could either be one of them out there or accept his fate and be one of them, one of Negan's henchmen. Daryl had no plans of joining Negan's sick, twisted group. He'd take is chances fighting the undead.

Daryl was back in is dark cell. That damn music still pumping loudly in his head. If he could just get some sleep, he could think more clearly. He tried breaking down the door, but it was no use. He tried to listen to conversation out in the hallway, but could only hear muffled sounds. How was he going to get out of this?

That's when he heard it. The lock to his door unlocked, but no one came in. He bent down to look under the door for any sign of movement and saw none. He quietly opened the door and looked around. The hallway was empty. He crept through down the hall, making sure to stay in the shadows. He had no idea of where he was going; he just knew he had to get out.

He found a door leading to the outside. He peered out the window and saw a row of motorcycles. Yeah, this was too easy, but he had to at least try. He quickly ran out, checking the bikes for keys. He wasn't out there 2 minutes before he was surrounded.

Negan strolled up with his bat, Lucille, thrown over his shoulder. He was so smug, it made Daryl want to beat the living shit out of him right there. But he knew he couldn't, not yet.

"Who are you?" Negan asked, pointed to one of the men. "Negan," the man responded. "And who are you?" Negan asked another man. "Negan," same response. Every time Negan asked one of them "Who are you" the same response was given, "Negan".

Now, Negan looked at Daryl. "Who are you?" is whispered in Daryl's face, so close that Daryl could feel his hot breath on his forehead. Daryl kept silent. He was giving in. He wasn't broken. He was going to fight for his family and for himself.

Negan gave Daryl a smirk at his silence, turned around and let the group of men start beating him senseless. Daryl got a few punches in, but he was so weak and could not keep up the fight. He was taken back to his dark cell with a busted lip, bloody nose and fresh black eye. He probably had a cracked rib or two as well.

Sometime later, Dwight came back to his cell. Daryl was sitting against the wall just staring at the door. Dwight threw something down on the ground and shut the door. It was a Polaroid picture of something. Daryl couldn't quite make it out at first. As he tried focusing his tired eyes on the picture it suddenly began to register in his brain what he was looking at. It was a picture of Glenn with his head bashed in. You couldn't even make out the face. Daryl only knew it was Glenn by the clothes and the pocket watch that Hershel gave him when they were still at the farm.

The silence in the room was strangling. Daryl couldn't take it anymore. Suddenly music began playing loudly except this time it wasn't that god-awful song, but something different. It was Roy Orbison's "Crying". Daryl let the haunting melody wash over him and he broke down, grieving for his friend. Balance.