After a restless night, I wake up completely exhausted. I wasn't able to stop thinking about Daryl and Andrea all night, but that ends now. There's too much to worry about without adding these feelings to the list.
At least that's what I tell myself when I wake up. When I see Daryl by his motorcycle, my mind wanders right back to what kind of relationship he has with Andrea. I feel so stupid, like a jealous girlfriend or something. It's ridiculous, I don't have any kind of romantic relationship with him, so where are all these feelings coming from?
As we pack up camp, I do my best to avoid Daryl and focus on all the things I need to do. After we're all ready, we drive off in the direction of this farm the woman told us about. It doesn't take long to find it. Daryl was right, Fairburn road is close and once we reach that, the farm is only a couple miles down.
It seems the sound of the motorcycle drew the group out; when we drive up, there's a welcoming party waiting for us. The reunion is tense at first, but once Lori tells us Carl's going to be ok, we let ourselves enjoy the moment.
Despite the general cheerful mood, Shane seems distracted, like his mind is in another place. His physical appearance isn't helping either. His head is shaved and he's wearing overalls that are four sizes too big for him. He looks like an entirely different person.
It doesn't take long to figure out what's got him so wound up either. Apparently, he made a run into a FEMA shelter down the road with a man named Otis—the same man that accidentally shot Carl—in order to find medical supplies to save Carl. The place was overrun though, and Otis didn't make it back.
Once we all get settled in, the residents of the farm hold a funeral service for Otis. The old man who seems to be the owner of the farm, Hershel, reads a passage from the bible as others take turns placing large stones in a pile. The people from are group stand by awkwardly, but still respectively, while he speaks. Just when it seems to be over though, he asks Shane to tell what happened in Otis's last moments.
He declines at first, but an older woman persists, close to tears, "You were the last one with him. You shared his final moments. Please, I need to hear. I need to know his death had meaning."
Reluctant at first, Shane tells the story of how Otis sacrificed himself to save Carl, providing cover for Shane only to get overwhelmed by walkers. As he speaks, Shane gradually loses himself in the story. The look on his face and the way his eyes dart around as he talks sends shivers down my spine. I can't help but feel like he's lying. He wouldn't be this traumatized if that's all that happened. Not that someone dying isn't a terrible thing, it's just sadly not that uncommon in this world. I notice Daryl watching him closely as well, probably just as suspicious as I am.
Neither of us say anything though. Now wouldn't be the time to call him out, not to mention the lack of any evidence. The group splits up when the service ends. Rick, Shane, Hershel, Daryl, Andrea, and I convene at the family's truck to plan the search for today. The woman that was on the horse, Maggie, brings over a map of the area, showing terrain and everything.
"This is perfect, we can finally get this thing organized," Shane says, much calmer than he was before.
"We'll grid the whole area, start searching in teams," Rick begins, only to be cut short by Hershel.
"Not you. Not today. You gave three units of blood. You wouldn't be hiking five minutes in this heat before passing out. And your ankle," he turns to Shane, "push it now and you'll be laid up a month. No good to anybody."
"Guess it's just me," Daryl says. "I'm gonna head back to the creek, work my way back from there."
"Daryl's not the only one fit to look for her," I speak up, my eyes on Rick.
Shane shares a look with Rick before replying, "Now I don't think that's the best idea—"
"The more eyes we have on the forest the better. I know you're worried I can't handle a gun, but I didn't survive two months on my own shooting every walker I saw. I can handle myself with just my crowbar and knife." I feel like Rick wants to trust me, but Shane's stare is holding him back.
"The forest ain't the same as Atlanta, completely different environment. You'll be out of your element," Shane argues.
Alright, now he's just talking out of his ass. I can feel myself getting angry, but I try to contain it. "What do you know? I grew up running through a forest—"
"Go with Daryl. At least for today. It'll be safer for both of you that way," Rick says, turning to Daryl. "That won't be a problem, will it?"
I'm about to protest, but Daryl just shrugs and says, "She's right. Another pair of eyes wouldn't hurt." So much for avoiding Daryl.
We agree to get whatever we need then meet back up in ten minutes by the RV. I get there early, since all I needed to grab were my weapons.
Glenn's there too, sitting at a picnic table, so I sit down across from him. "I heard you're going out to look for Sophia," he says. "Be careful."
"Yeah, I'll be fine," I reply, only half paying attention. The other half of my mind is trying to think of how I'll get through today without thinking of Daryl and Andrea the whole time. It's so stupid, but I just wish I knew if something was going on.
"Well, I should get going. Dale needed my help with something." Glenn starts to get up, but I suddenly think of the most obvious plan. Honestly, I don't know why I didn't just ask him earlier.
"Glenn! Uh, I was wondering. Do you know if something's going on with Daryl and Andrea?" It isn't until after I ask do I realize what a weird question it is to ask. It's only Glenn though, so I suppose it's alright.
"Daryl and Andrea?" He looks at me strange. "Not that I know of. Why?"
"Oh, just wondering." He still seems suspicious, so I add, "I saw them together last night and thought it might be something."
"Well, Daryl never really talked to people until recently, so I doubt it," he shrugs. "Catch you later."
He leaves, going inside the RV. Part of me feels relieved at what he said, but the paranoid part of me still isn't entirely convinced. I let out a sigh, not ready to face a day of being with Daryl.
"What're you so bummed about?"
I jump and turn around, only to see Daryl staring back, his eyebrow cocked. He's got his crossbow thrown over his shoulder and I can't help but stare at his biceps for a moment.
"Nothing," I mutter. "Let's get going."
We head out, walking through the forest towards the creek. I follow behind Daryl as he silently looks for tracks, something I'd never be able to make sense of. We come across two walkers, both of which Daryl takes down with his crossbow. I'm really beginning to feel useless, not contributing anything to the search, but I'm determined to at least stay alert for any signs of Sophia or approaching walkers.
"So…" I start, no longer being able to stand the silence, "how long have you been with the group?" I'm genuinely curious but I'd be lying if I said it didn't have anything to do with my recent worries about Daryl and Andrea.
He gives me a sideways glance before answering. "A bit over a month." That long? Considering how isolated he was at first, I wasn't expecting it to be over a couple weeks. I try not to let it bother me. It still doesn't mean anything and I know I'm acting like 16 year old but I keep thinking about it.
Apparently I'm not hiding it well enough because Daryl asks, "What's wrong with you?" I look up at him surprised, so he elaborates. "You've been actin' strange since this morning."
There's no way in hell I'm telling him I've been trying to deal with the possibility he's involved with someone else so instead I just say, "I've been thinking about Shane. He hasn't been the same. His story was weird too."
He doesn't seem to buy my excuse, but he doesn't call me out on it. "Doesn't take a PhD to figure that out. Got any evidence?"
I can tell he doesn't disagree with me; he just understands the same thing I thought before. You can't accuse someone without proof.
"No, just goosebumps. When he was telling everyone what happened—he looked out of his mind. Like he was dealing with some deeper internal struggle."
"Doesn't mean nothing without proof to back it up."
"Yeah, I know. Just been thinking about it." The silence settles back in, but I still have so much on my mind. Without even thinking, I blurt out a painfully stupid question I immediately want to take back. "Do you think Andrea's pretty?" Fuck fuck fuck shit fuck. Why the fuck did I have to ask that. Daryl looks at me, completely thrown back. Shit, I have to say something to make it less weird. "Uh, it's just, she has the same hair as my sister, not quite as curly though. I was always jealous of my sister's hair."
That seems to do the trick, although he still seems a bit flustered. "Hell, what're you asking me for?"
I try acting natural, laughing lightly at his reaction. "Yeah. Just thinking out loud I suppose."
We're both quiet for a moment, but then, without looking back, he adds, "Nothin' wrong with red hair. Suits you."
My eyes go wide and blood rushes to my cheeks. It's not like I've never had a guy compliment me before, but that's the thing about Daryl Dixon—you never expect it from him.
Just as I'm regaining my composure, the forest opens up into a clearing with what looks like an abandoned house in the middle. Daryl signals for me to be quiet and raises his crossbow as we approach it. He kicks open the door and we make our way inside, prepared for any walkers that might be around.
The house is almost completely empty, with bare walls and almost no furniture. We pass through what used to be the dining room. Noticing what looks like a recently opened can of sardines, I nudge Daryl and point at it. He picks up the can and sniffs it, jerking his head back. Must be pretty fresh. Maybe someone was here recently.
A faint noise comes from the adjacent room, putting both of us on high alert. I ready my crowbar and we both follow the sound to a small closet. Daryl taps the door open to reveal some canned food and some blankets and pillows set up as a makeshift bed. We share a look, both thinking the same thing. She might've been here. She could be close.
Just as we turn to leave the room, a loud banging noise resounds throughout the house. In an instant, Daryl's body covers mine, my back pressed against the wall. I gasp, more surprised at his closeness than the noise. I grasp my crowbar tighter, ready to face whatever's out there, but Daryl already has his crossbow in one arm pointing to the hallway and the other hand holding my forearm. Another bang echoes from the same direction, prompting Daryl to move toward it. His hand slips down to my wrist, gently pulling me closely behind him.
We make it back to the empty hallway only to see the wind swing the front door, banging it against the door frame.
We both visibly relax, lowering our weapons. Daryl turns to face me, checking that I'm alright, both of us still breathing heavily. I find myself looking up at him, realizing how close we're standing, our breaths mixing together. He seems to realize it the same time I do because he drops my wrist and takes a step back, opening up the space between us. I look away first, hoping my red cheeks just look like the result of the heat.
"C'mon," he says, already walking out the door, "She could be close."
Hope you like it! I'm trying to put more Ashlyn/Daryl interaction in each chapter so I'll probably be summarizing parts that aren't really important to their plot and skipping other parts entirely.
Next chapter is going to be the Chupacabra episode which is my favorite! I've been looking forward to writing it since the beginning so it should be good!
Thanks for all the reviews last week, I'm always excited to hear from you guys!