Daryl could not remember how he got to the stage. He could not remember who yelled for him to stop. He even forgot about the fucking tiger sitting behind him. All he could remember was the rush of his fist connecting hard with Dwight's face.
The room broke out in a cacophony of shouting and cursing. The blow of the punch was so great, it had Dwight hitting the floor with one swing. Daryl jumped on top of him, pinning him to the ground, as he threw punch after punch into the man's face. Blood splattered from Dwight's mouth. By the third punch, his nose was broken. Daryl didn't care.
He wasn't just Dwight anymore. He was the Governor. He was Joe. He was Len, and the rest of the Claimers. He was the Termites. He was Negan. He was everyone who ever tried to hurt him, who ever tried to hurt his family and friends. Each punch was like a shot of revenge. For Denise, for Glenn, for Carol, for every person he came to love in his life that had been taken away from him. In that moment, he saw fury in its purest form. Every color had vanished. All he could see was red.
"That's enough!" Someone wrapped their arms around him and pulled him back, but Daryl sent an elbow straight into their gut. They recovered quickly, for in a blinding flash of searing pain, a hand came up and yanked on his injured shoulder catching him off guard and he was ripped away from Dwight and wrestled to the floor by Jesus.
Dwight scrambled to his knees, nursing his bloody nose, then stopped at the sudden click of the Colt Python above his head. Rick was standing over him now, his face contorted in rage. "Give me a reason, you ugly son of a bitch!" he shouted.
Suddenly the room rumbled with a thunderous roar. Everything stopped at once. Rick looked up, Dwight fell back frozen, and Jesus and Daryl paused in their tussle match. Shiva's ears were flat on her head and her lips curled back in a horrible snarl. Ezekiel held her close, patting her sides soothingly.
"Gentlemen, there is a tiger in the room. Please do not agitate the tiger. And do not agitate me."
"This man killed our doctor!" Rick yelled. "Our only doctor! He tried to kill Daryl! He shot him point blank in the back!"
"Please, I shot him in the shoulder. I knew what I was doing."
"MAN, FUCK YOU!" Daryl was on his feet now, shoving Jesus off him. "You knocked me out, tied me up, pulled a gun on me, stole my shit! After I tried to help you! You threw me and my friends in that van, you lead us straight to that psycho! Why should I believe anything you say to me?!"
"Because I know shit that you don't!"
The auditorium rang with a heavy silence. Everyone was breathing fast, and the tension in the air crackled like electricity. Rick was still standing with his gun pointed at the man. His hand shook, like it took every effort in him not to pull the trigger.
"Rick," Jesus pleaded. "Let's just hear him out. Let's hear what he has to say first."
"You best listen to him, Rick Grimes," said Ezekiel. "And you as well, Mr. Dixon. I would prefer there be no more bloodshed in my kingdom tonight."
Daryl trembled from head to foot with suppressed rage. He caught Rick's eye and they shared a look. "Yeah, I'll hear him," said Rick softly, returning his gun to his holster. "It's not my life on the line today." Rick stepped back and planted himself next to Daryl. The two men glared at Dwight as he rose to his feet, spitting out a mouthful of blood.
"Well, then!" said Ezekiel, pleasantly. "Clearly you all know each other."
"I came here to ask Ezekiel for his help," Dwight began. "Just like you all did. Has it ever occurred to you that I just might hate Negan more than you?"
"You're his henchman," spat Rick. "You work for him, you kill for him. Why do the bidding for a man you hate?"
"I had no choice!" Dwight shot back. "None of you have any idea what I've been through, what I had to do to survive."
"I GAVE you a choice!" Daryl shouted. "I offered you a way out! You returned the favor by sticking a gun in my face!"
"And I paid the price for it!" Dwight pointed at his burnt cheek, the disfigured skin charred and ugly. "This is what Negan does to his people. And it had nothing to do with me running away."
"Yeah, it's an improvement," Daryl growled.
Dwight glared back at him, his jaw muscles bunching. "Did I make a mistake? Of course I did. I should have trusted you, I get that now. I got that as soon as they caught us after we left you in the woods."
"Then why'd you try to kill me?!" Daryl snapped. "Out on them tracks, when you ambushed us, when you killed Denise!"
"It was either you or her, man! Or that other one, Rosita. Negan knows how to punish his men. To keep me in line, to make sure I stay under his thumb, he put me in charge. I had to be his solider. I had to play the part and make the others believe it. If I don't do what he says, if I don't follow his orders, then he'll..." Dwight gritted his teeth, shaking his head in frustration.
"So we're supposed to just trust you now, is that it?" said Rick, harshly. "How do we know this isn't a trap? How do we know you're not setting us up?"
"Negan has my wife!" Dwight looked pointedly at Daryl then. "That woman I was with, the one you met? She's my wife, man. He'll hurt her if I don't do what he says. You get that? He'll hurt her!"
Daryl's face showed no hint of remorse or compassion. She pointed that gun at him, too. She made her choice, just as Dwight did.
"None of you know how much I've risked just coming here," said Dwight. "Don't you wonder why you found me on the run in the first place? I've never been in support of Negan. He knows that, that's why I've had to do all that I've done to make him think I'm his. But I killed one of his spies today. He lived right here at the Kingdom. He knew about Ezekiel's intentions for war. I stopped him before he could tell anyone. So you see, you need me. I know the enemy. I know how they operate, I know all their secrets. I can tell you Negan's secrets... his weaknesses... I can help you end this nightmare, once and for all, if you would only just trust me."
Everyone was quiet as they took it all in. Daryl looked to the others. Rick was still glaring at Dwight, but his expression was far more curious now than hostile. Jesus was neutral as he stared at Ezekiel, who wore a small but determined smile on his face. Daryl balled his hands into fists.
"Nah," he growled. "Nah, I don't believe you. Everything you just said, everything you gave us is bullshit! You shot me in the back! You tried to kill me twice! You dragged Glenn out, you let that asshole beat him to death! And I'm supposed to trust you? No! You killed my friend with my own weapon, you stupid son of a—" Daryl stopped, noticing for the first time what Dwight was wearing over his shirt.
It was the last straw. Daryl grabbed Dwight by his own vest, the one he had stolen from him, and punched him square in the jaw. "Daryl, stop!" Jesus was on top of him again, pulling him back, and this time he had Rick to help him.
"Where's my crossbow?!" Daryl snarled. "I want my crossbow back, asshole!"
In the midst of the fighting and shouting, no one heard the squeak of the door opening in the back of the auditorium.
Jesus and Rick hauled Daryl off Dwight. Daryl shoved them back, swiping an arm out. "Go to hell, all y'all!" he bellowed. "He's playing us, can't you see that? I don't want any part of it! Fuck this shit, man!" Daryl turned and walked out, taking the stairs and not looking back. Jesus was starting to go after him but Rick shook his head. "No, let him go."
Daryl stomped down the aisle between rows of cushioned seats. He was furious. Furious at Dwight, furious that Ezekiel would trust him, and furious at himself for having second thoughts about the man. No. Dwight had made his life a living hell ever since he met him in those woods. There was just too much bad blood between them. He trusted him once and it bit him in the ass. Any trust that could have been was broken now. He could never forgive him for that. Not in a million years.
So lost in his own fury and rage, he almost didn't notice the person standing there by the door. It startled him somewhat to see the figure of a woman. He thought it was a woman; it was so dark in there, it was hard to tell. But the figure was small and slim, and she was just standing there, watching him. Daryl was going to pass her and ignore her, but he didn't. He stopped. He looked at her, and all sound and noise faded from the room. The blood drained from his face and he felt as though a hand had plunged deep inside him and ripped the air from his lungs. It wasn't just some woman.
It was Carol.