Disclaimer: I do not own the Walking Dead! I only own Samantha!
This episode is based on season two, episode four: Cherokee Rose. Enjoy!
When the next morning rolled around, we were all out in front of the house when we heard the familiar sound of an engine. I looked up, wiping the sweat off of my brow. Dale's RV was pulling up into the driveway, everyone else behind him. "Daryl!" I hollered, even though I knew he could not hear me. Maggie smiled at me.
I tore my work gloves off and threw them to the side. Daryl parked his motorcycle in the driveway and I sprinted over to him. I threw my arms around him in a tight hug, burying my face in his chest. His smell was so familiar and comforting. He placed one hand on my back, patting it gently. "Samantha. I could kill yer stupid ass." He told me, and I giggled.
"I know, Daryl. But I'm fine. These are really good people." I assured him, and he nodded. Rick and Lori were talking to the rest of the group, and I reluctantly released my hold on the younger Dixon brother.
"What are ya'll doin', gatherin' rocks?" He asked. I sighed.
"We're getting ready for a funeral. I'll tell ya everything later, we gotta get this finished." Daryl didn't look happy with my answer. "it was one of their people." I told him quietly, and he nodded in understanding.
When the funeral came, Hershel was standing in front of us with a suit and a Bible. I was shocked to see this, I expected just for everyone to say a few words and move on with their day. It may seem cruel, but this is a cruel world that we live in now.
"Blessed be God, Father of our Lord, Jesus Christ," Hershel began, but I couldn't focus on his words. I was too busy watching Maggie and Patricia. "Shane, will you speak for Otis?" The older man asked, and I had to hold back my gasp.
Shane looked apprehensive, and at first I thought he would refuse, and he tried to. But Patricia coerced him into speaking, and he stepped forward. "We were about done. Almost out of ammo, we were down to our pistols by then. I was limpin. It was bad, my ankle was all swollen up. 'We gotta save the boy.' He said. Gave me his backpack, shoved me ahead." He told us about how Otis offered to take the rear, and when he looked back, he was being demolished by the undead. He placed one of the stones on the monument.
Daryl was watching Shane closely, giving him skeptical looks. After the funeral, they decided to go looking for Sophia. "Daryl, are you going?" I asked, my voice quiet.
"Of course I'm goin'." He scoffed, slinging his bow up on his shoulder. I swallowed, not wanting to make him mad.
"You just got here." I said, my voice quieter than before. He sighed, knowing that I was becoming upset.
"Sam, we gotta find her. She's just a lil' girl." He told me, and I nodded. I needed to not be selfish. Daryl was thinking about what was best for little Sophia, and I knew it meant a lot to him to be able to find her. I grabbed his hand in mine for a moment, giving it a little squeeze, not saying anything. I was scared if I said anything else, I would either beg him to stay or I might cry. I dropped his hand and walked away, but he hollered at me again. "Sam. Don't worry. I'll be back."
I smiled at him. "You better." I turned back and walked to the house, going to see if Patricia needed any help with anything. I glanced back behind my shoulder one last time to see Daryl standing around the truck with the others, planning a route to search for Sophia. But he seemed to not be paying too much attention, because I caught him looking in my direction.
Patricia was sitting at the kitchen table crying, with Beth holding her hand beside her. I felt like I was intruding, so I went to turn away when she called my name. "Samantha, I didn't see you there. I'm sorry you have to see me like this. It's just so damn hard." She said, her voice cracking. I shook my head.
"Don't apologize, I know this is hard on you. If you need to cry, then you cry. There's nothing wrong with it. Merle used to always tell me that I was such a girl for crying, and it made me weak, but I don't think that's true. We're all human, we all have emotion." I sat down at the table beside her, holding her other hand.
She looked at me with her watery eyes, the white around them bloodshot. Her smile was shaky, but she squeezed my hand, letting me know how thankful she was. "Now what happened to Merle? I remember Glenn saying that the antibiotics came for Merle's brother. If you don't mind me asking."
I sighed sadly. "Daryl was the one that found me. I was wandering around in the woods by myself for God knows how long, and I ended up following him around one day. He brought me back to camp, where I met Merle and Shane and Lori and everyone. Merle was a dirty old pervert who didn't have any manners and didn't give a shit about what anyone else had to say. He became my best friend, and he was always there for me. Then one day, he went to Atlanta on a run.
He had apparently always had a problem with drugs, and they said that he was really bad that day. Dangerous, running around, shooting his gun for now reason. I wasn't there for him. But Rick showed up, and handcuffed him to the roof of a building. T-Dog lost the key. So they left him, alone. They went back for him, but he had cut his own hand off so he could get off of that roof. And now we don't know where he is, or if he's still alive." I said, letting a tear slide down my face.
"Did you love him?" Beth asked. I chuckled.
"Everyone always asks me that. Merle was my best friend, I loved him like he was my own flesh and blood. He might have been an asshole most of the time, and he was, but I still cared for him. But now he's gone. It's just me and Daryl."
Patricia smiled a little. "I saw the two of you when he first got here. You love him. I'm pretty sure he loves you just the same." I opened my mouth to speak, but Maggie came running in the house.
"Samantha, can you come here? We all need to see this." Patricia and Beth didn't want to go, so I ran out there with Maggie. She ran all the way to the well, where Dale was shining his flashlight down into. A walker was in the bottom, bloated from the water that had absorbed into its skin.
My stomach churned, and I turned to the side and threw up what little bit of food I had in my stomach. I wiped the excess off of my mouth and turned back to the group as they were trying to devise a plan to get rid of the walker. They wanted to tie Glenn to the rope and lower him down. He didn't argue.
"Guys this is nuts!" I exclaimed. I didn't want Glenn getting hurt, I liked Glenn.
"Are you volunteering to go?" Shane asked, looking up from the knot he was tying around Glenn.
Andrea scoffed. "So we can face the wrath of Daryl Dixon when he gets back? I don't want to have to deal with his redneck ass." I glared at him, but kept my mouth shut. Knowing Shane, he might just push my ass in the well.
They lowered Glenn down in the well and I covered my eyes, feeling fearful. I couldn't imagine how terrified Glenn must be. I could hear the walker snarling and growling, and I held my breath. Glenn let out a yell and I gasped, looking down into the well. Maggie screamed as they lost control of the rope and Glenn went sailing down into the well, and I dove onto the ground to help hold the rope.
Tears filled my eyes as he screamed. "Get me out guys! Get me out!" I pulled as hard as I could, and I sighed with relief as he hit the dirt. Dale sighed.
"Back to the drawing board." He said, kicking at the dirt. Glenn gave him a little smirk as he stood up.
"Says you." He handed him the rope, and we all gasped as the walker pulled on it.
"Glenn, you're amazing!" I cheered, and he waved at me as he walked away. That was so brave of him. "Now how are we going to get it out?" I asked, looking down in the well.
We all tugged on the rope, pulling the bloated walker out of the well. The body got stuck on the rocks, and before we knew what happened, the body split in two. I groaned and turned my head, but I could still hear the splashing of its organs hitting the well water.
"Well, goddamn." I muttered, throwing the rope on the ground. T-Dog ran over and immediately began angrily beating its face in.
"Good thing we didn't do anything stupid like shoot it."
Daryl came home not too long after that, and I ran in his direction. Before I could reach him, he held one finger up to me. I stopped, confused. He opened the door to the RV and went inside, and I quietly followed after him.
Carol was sitting in there, and Daryl dropped a flower in a vase. "A flower?"
"A Cherokee rose. The story is, that when American soldiers were movin' the Indians off their land on the Trail of Tears, the Cherokee mothers were grievin' and cryin' so much because they were losin' their little ones along the way from exposure and disease and starvation. A lot of them jus' disappeared. So the elders said a prayer and asked for a sign to uplift the mother's spirits and give them strength, hope. The next day, this rose started to grow right where their tears fell. I'm not foolish enough to think that there are any flowers out there growing fer my brother, but I believe this one bloomed fer yah little girl." He told her. I sniffled, wiping away the tears that had fallen from my eyes.
He walked out of the RV to find me waiting. He wrapped one arm around my shoulder and pulled my head down, giving me a gently noogie. "Ya just couldn't wait, could ya? Ya nosy bitch." He said, and I wrapped my arm around his torso.
"I missed you too, you mean old bastard."