Status: incomplete
Interment
The
air was thick in that boxcar. The confines and the tightness of the area was
only part of reason for this trapped feeling Daryl was sure they all felt. He
settled himself, back against a wall. His body welcoming the support as he
waited. For what though he had no idea.
Days
have passed since the prison fell. Daryl was relieved to see Rick, Michonne and
Carl had survived. And, here in this prison of a boxcar were others, Glenn and
Maggie, Sasha and Bob. It was such a relief to him to see them. They survive
it. It was so good to see them. So good to be together with them. Why is it then did Daryl Dixon wish he was dead?
“They’re fuckin’ with the wrong people.” Rick’s statement just hung there. Suspended by
the thickness of the air in that boxcar. The silence that followed only
increased its tension. The last time
they been together as a group was the prison. Before that bastard tore through
those walls; before that fucking animal killed Hershel.
Daryl looked at Maggie, but
quickly he looked away. He couldn’t bear to look at her. ‘How does he tell he lost Beth?’ And
Michonne? She wanted to hunt the sick fuck down instead of supporting; helping
her, he stopped her. She was right. That
shit that went down on them. That was on him. All of it.
Daryl looked at other in the group. Glenn’s group had others. Two women and two men. One of the women looked familiar to them. Glenn referred to them as friends. Daryl hoped they would be able to count on them. He surveyed the group again. Disgusted, he pushed himself away from the wall and moved to the back of the boxcar. He didn’t want the others to see him. See him lose control. Ass kicker wasn’t with them.
Daryl tried to draw in breath but couldn’t. The amount of rage pent up inside him prevented him from doing so. He pounded the butt of his fist into the wall of the boxcar. A thundering sound reverberated throughout the car. Everyone turned to him. He coiled back his arm for another blow, squaring his knuckled fist to the confining wall. The blow was thwarted as a set of arms clutched onto his. Daryl followed through causing Michonne’s to be swung against the wall. This sent the two of them to fall to the floor.
“Whoa! Calm down everyone! Let’s just calm down and try to get a handle on this.” Rick tried to put the group at ease. Saying something about needed to stay focus or something to that effect. Daryl drew in a wavering breath now. It was such a struggle for him.
“I’m sorry” he said quietly to Michonne. Rick began to pace and spoke to the rest of the group. Oblivious to others, Daryl was lost in his inner hell.
“Hey, it’s okay.” Michonne replied. “Just hang…”
“Sorry about it all. What happened at the prison?” In the darkness of the boxcar. Michonne couldn’t see his tears. “You were right.”
Michonne didn’t say anything. Her hand rested on his arm as they sat side by side.
He continued quietly, softly. Michonne was stunned. She sat there and listened.
“I stopped you. You want to look for him but I stopped you.” Daryl’s voice crack as he spoke. If I hadn’t that bastard wouldn’t have taken you and ..” Daryl stopped. Michonne could tell now he was crying.
Michonne put her arm around Daryl and pulled him close. He resisted. She moved in closer. Whispering in his ear she “shh-ed” him. She held him now, calmly stroking his hair. He apologized over and over.
Michonne’s heart ached for her dear friend. She had never seen Daryl like this. It had been days since the fall of the prison and he was carrying all this. She knew now it wasn’t the place or time for blame but she did think back at all that had happen and Daryl was holding himself responsible for all of it.
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