Chapter 7

I lay in my cot unable to fall asleep, tossing and turning constantly. I didn't think I'd ever get a good night's rest here, but tonight was different because instead of being worried and depressed I was too excited and nervous. I wanted to get a move on now, and I was finding it increasingly difficult to stay in bed.

"Move around one more time and I'll cut your throat when you fall asleep!" A tired, angry voice shot out through the darkness.

I sighed and closed my eyes, trying to clear my mind. I took deep breaths, inhaling slowly to fill my lungs as far as they would go and holding it in. It worked for a moment, I felt myself relaxing, my head clearing, but then I thought about where I was and Daryl. I couldn't stand it anymore.

I opened my eyes and sat up, scanning the cavernous room. I didn't see any Saviors patrolling on the ground or above. I moved my feet to the floor, still searching for any other movements. When I saw none, I stood up and started forward, looking for a form that resembled Daryl's. Half blinded by the darkness, I bumped into a cot.

"What did I say!?" An indignant male voice whispered harshly.

"Mind your own business, you nosy fuck!" I shot back in a loud whisper.

"What the fuck did you just say to me, bitch?"

"Will you both shut the fuck up!?" Another voice rang out a little ways down.

"You shut the fuck up!" The man had turned in the direction of the other person.

I continued forward, weaving farther in between cots as the other two continued to have a whisper pissing war behind me.

"Daryl?" I whispered out, trying not to make too much noise so I wouldn't piss anyone else off or rouse too much attention. "Daryl!?"

I saw a form ten feet in front of me jerk and start to look up. I hurried over and found him there, huddled under a blanket more moth-eaten and dirty than mine.

"Daryl!" I called out in loud whisper and covered his body with my own, hugging him tightly to me. "Daryl, I've been so worried about you."

I started to whimper, wrapping my arms around him as far as they could go. He took in a sharp breath of pain and I pushed away.

"Oh, shit. I'm so sorry," I said between tears. I had forgotten about his wounded shoulder and the possibility that he might have other injuries I couldn't see.

"Come back here," was his reply and he pulled me back to him. He held me fiercely and shushed me, pushing himself to a sitting position. He pushed me back, his hands in my hair, and searched my face. I couldn't stop crying, I was so relieved to know he was truly okay and alive in front of me.

"Listen," he whispered finally, his eyes looking around for Saviors, "you can't be near me. They'll hurt you if they see you with me. I ain't gonna let that happen no more, not after I didn't say his name again. I already failed Glenn and Maggie, Rick and the others. I ain't doing it again."

I shook my head, confused and not believing him, "What happened in that clearing was not your fault. None of us were safe, no matter what we said or did. You have to know that."

"It was, Everly," he sounded defeated. "I've had plenty of time to think about what happened that night, alone and naked in that cell, and I know that Glenn would still be alive if I had just stayed on my knees."

"Don't. You can't do this to yourself, it isn't fair."

"None of this is," his eyes searched mine. "I'm sorry for what I did to you, too."

"You were trying to survive. I know you had a plan; that you and the others would have come back for me."

Daryl's facial expression went from guilty to remorseful. He hands fell from my hair and landed in his lap. He put his head down and shook his head, not looking at me. I stared at him.

"What?" I asked, not sure I wanted to hear the answer.

He looked at me and shook his head again, sighing soundly.

"I thought I could do it," he lamented quietly. "I-I tried to look for you, but…I couldn't find you. I would've come back for you."

"And if you couldn't?"

"I would have," he said, a look of certainty on his face, but I wasn't sure I felt the same way. Stop it, I commanded myself.

"It doesn't matter now. You did what you had to and you tried. That's what counts. We're both still here, and we will have our chance to get out of here together soon," I stood up, not knowing how to feel. I turned to make my way back to my cot when Daryl grabbed my hand and pulled me back.

"Please," he begged, looking up at me, "I know I was reckless and you can be mad at me. Hate me even, but don't convince yourself for one second that I don't care about you. I do."

He looked sincere, his eyes becoming wet. His hand crushed mine desperately. I nodded, wanting to believe what he was saying but that persistent pang of abandonment carved at my insides like a knife. His grip loosened as I started to walk away again, but I stopped, something he had said bothering me.

"What did you mean by you didn't say his name again?"

"When he asked me who I was earlier…," he sighed heavily, "A few days ago, he took me to a small apartment, offered it to me, but in exchange I had to say his name. I had to say that I was him. When he asked who I was earlier, that's what he wanted then."

I scrunched my eyebrows together, not understanding, "He wanted you to say you were him?"

He nodded his head to confirm and a shock of anxiety shot through me. Negan was trying to strip Daryl of his identity to make him his. Suddenly, the way the other Saviors claimed to be him made sense; they were all his and we were next in line to drink the juice. I knew if Daryl ever gave in he would be Negan's wholly as soon as his name came out of his mouth; someone as strong and self-governing as Daryl did not give in easily, and I had a feeling I'd be the reason if he ever did.

"Get some rest," I whispered very quietly and left to go back to my cot. I laid down, pensive and scared, and covered myself with the blanket. When? I asked myself and closed my tired eyes. Out of nowhere, the tears came and I cried myself to sleep, never feeling more alone in all the time that I had been here than now.

The next week was tense. Every time I saw Daryl, his eyes remorseful, a deluge of mixed emotions overtook me. I was both ecstatic and furious when I saw him. I told myself, over and over again like I had a few weeks ago, that it wasn't his fault he tried to leave here without me. The pain was still present nonetheless and growing every day. I guess it was lucky that we weren't allowed to be close to one another; I wasn't sure if I'd punch or hug him, maybe both.

It didn't seem anyone was aware of our little rendezvous the first night he had spent in the common room. I was given dirty looks by the young guy who I had kept awake that night, but he left me alone other than that. It was fortunate that he had started an argument with someone else; otherwise he might would have noticed what I had been up to and told someone. The others didn't seem to care about anyone else's business either as far as I could tell.

Daryl and I started slipping each other notes, giving details on what we had noticed or strategic plans we could follow. I left mine to him folded in his clothes and I always found his to me under my pillow. We were very careful when writing and delivering them. They were always short and to the point, sometimes written in a verse to make it seem like we were writing poetry, one line at a time. It would be a death sentence for us if we were caught.

It seemed we had a few times and places we could meet, but we hadn't agreed on one yet. Having observed the Saviors long enough, I was tired of waiting and wanted to take action, but we had to stay a bit longer until the right moment came and so that Daryl could gather more strength. He had told me about his trip back to Alexandria with Negan and his men, what they had taken from us. All our weapons, guns and ammo gone and stashed somewhere here in the compound. It was up to Daryl to figure out where they were and to form a plan to take some back when we left.

I was nervous every day, trying not to act too jittery when someone spoke to me. I had the incessant feeling that we would be caught any day now; the note under my pillow discovered by someone else other than me. Thankfully, it was pretty common for people of my rank to be nervous and afraid, so I went fairly unnoticed. Still, anxiety kept a vice-like grip on my chest most days until it was time for lights out, then I would snake my hand under my pillow to feel the smooth paper under my fingertips and let out a sigh of relief. It was the best and worst part of my day.

Dwight would come by four times a week to check my bed and box for hidden items or weapons, flipping over and rummaging through each. He never spoke to me anymore unless it was to give me a command and he always wore a mask of disdain when he looked at me. I guess the sensitive side to him was forever gone, but I couldn't say I cared. I wouldn't be here much longer to need to.

I had just dropped off the last load of clothes to the common area when I saw Dwight roaming around and checking people's belongings. I was hoping that he wouldn't stop at my cot, seeing as he just checked it the day before, when he walked up to it and kicked it over. With a surge of panic, I rushed next to the toppled cot, my pillow and blanket sprawled on the floor.

"What're you doing?" I asked.

Dwight looked up at me and scoffed, turning his attention to the cardboard box by his feet. He started grabbing things and throwing them onto the floor. I looked wildly around for any sign of Daryl's note and spotted it on the ground by the cot. Not wanting to draw attention with sudden movements, I sidled my way to stand on top of it, just placing my foot down on it when Dwight stopped and looked up. He had the cardboard box in his hand and he flung it at me.

"Clean this shit up," he demanded.

I caught the box, and waited for him to leave, but he stood there. I looked up at him to see him pointing to the mess he had made all over the floor. Shit, I thought. My mind raced to think of a plan. He would see the note as soon as my foot left it. I started forward slowly, my heart beating thunderously in my chest. Then it clicked. I stepped on the raggedy blanket and pretended to get my foot caught in it. I tripped and flung my foot backward, sending the blanket behind me as I fell on my knees. I heard Dwight laugh out in front of me and few others around the room chuckle.

"Jesus Christ, woman, get up and clean this shit."

Dwight laughed again, shaking his head and walked off. I let out the breath that I had been holding and looked behind me. The blanket was covering the note.

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