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Safe Haven in the Chaos	By : IdrilsSecret Category: S through Z > The Walking Dead Views: 6517 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the walking dead or any of the characters. No money is being made from the writing of these stories

Chapter List
- 92
- 93
- 94
Chapter 94 Catching Up to the Past

5 years ago . . .

Daryl spent every waking hour out searching for Rick. He refused to believe that he was dead. He was so determined to find him that he left Alexandria, left it all behind and settled into a camp by the river. No one else was willing to do it. They accepted Rick’s demise too easily. Daryl needed to see proof that he was gone, and that meant finding a body, whether it was still walking or not.

He was down by the river, cleaning a fish, when he heard something rushing through the tall grass behind him. He dropped the fish, but before he had time to pick up his bow, a small brown ball of fur leapt from the grass and landed at his feet. It was a puppy, whining and crying for attention. Daryl got down on one knee and pet the little pup.

“Where’d you come from?” he said, picking it up and discovering it was a male, a shepherd by the look of it. The puppy licked Daryl’s face and wagged his tail. “You ain’t afraid of humans which means you must belong to someone.” Daryl glanced around the area in case the puppy’s owner was near, but there was no one around. The puppy started wiggling, and Daryl set him on the ground before he dropped the little guy. With one last glance at Daryl, the pup headed back the way he came and was gone.

“Hmm,” Daryl said as he thought about the odd exchange. Soon, he put it out of his mind and went back to what he was doing.

A year had gone by, and Daryl was still living by the river, still searching for Rick with a map he’d drawn up that would help him keep track of where he’d been.

He was out checking his snare traps when he heard a dog barking. Suddenly, the shepherd was there, barking and behaving erratically. Daryl could tell something was wrong, and the dog was desperately trying to get him to follow. He grabbed his bow and took off through the woods.

The now grown shepherd led him to a cabin. At first glance, Daryl could tell someone lived there by items stacked around the outside of the building. There was fresh cut firewood and a barrel full of rain water. A couple of rabbit pelts were left out to dry, and the smell of smoke from a previous fire still lingered in the air.

The dog ran to the front door and scratched at it, barking and trying to get inside. Daryl went to the front door and found it unlocked. He flung the door open and saw the walker. He rushed inside, raised his bow and aimed. The arrow sunk into the walker’s head, and the body fell limp to the wood floor. Before he had a moment to recover, he heard the click of a gun and looked up to see shotgun barrel aimed at his head.

“Who the hell are you?” said a gruff voice.

Daryl raised his hands in the air. “I’m not here to hurt you. Your dog brought me. I found the walker and killed it. That’s all.”

“Who are you? What’s your name?” the man demanded.

Daryl stared at him before speaking. “I don’t want nothing from you. I’m just gonna leave.” He took a step toward the door, but the armed man repositioned his gun.

“You’re not going anywhere.” The man glanced quickly at a kitchen chair. Without taking his eyes from Daryl, he pushed the chair with his foot. “Very carefully take a seat.”

Daryl moved slowly, hands still in the air. He grabbed the back of the chair and pulled it toward him, sitting down as he was told.

“Hands behind your back,” he said. He kept a sharp eye on Daryl and sidestepped to a cabinet nearby. There was a coil of rope laying on it, which the man picked up. “You try anything and I’ll blow your head off.” He waited a moment and then proceeded to tie Daryl up.

Daryl decided it was best to be compliant with this guy, just in case he had a twitchy trigger finger. He sat still while the man tied his wrists and legs to the chair. When he was sure his captor wasn’t going to escape, he stepped back and glared.

Daryl returned the glare, sticking his chin out pugnaciously while he looked up at the man. He focused on him, determined not to be the first one to break eye contact. It worked, and the guy lowered his gun. His attention went to the dead walker leaking blood onto his. He considered his options for a moment, and chose to rid his home of the filth. He picked up the walker by the hands and dragged it out of the cabin.

While the man was outside, Daryl started wiggling his hands and wrists trying to loosen the ropes. He grunted as he did his best to increase his odds of getting free. But when the guy returned, he must have heard Daryl trying to escape. His shotgun was aimed directly at Daryl. “Don’t even think about it,” he warned.

“I told you. I’m not going to hurt you or rob you. Your dog found me and–" He knew that sounded ridiculous. “Look, I thought someone was in trouble, and I was just trying to help.”

“I’ll ask you one more time. What’s your name?” said the man, ignoring Daryl’s reason for being inside his house.

“You gonna kill me?” Daryl asked in return.

“I probably should,” said the man. He glanced back at the bloodstain on his floor from the walker Daryl’s killed. “But you did help out. Still, you didn’t know anyone lived here.” He glared at Daryl a moment, and then lifted his head, pointing with his chin. “You a scavenger or something? You got a place? People?”

Daryl considered if he should be truthful or not. He decided to keep the communities out of it. “I’m on my own. Got a place a little way down the river.”

Most people were skeptical of someone who had no community. Being alone was not the best option. It was a difficult way to live out here. But since the man lived that way himself, he didn’t question Daryl about his singular existence. He looked Daryl over carefully, noticed the condition of his clothes, dirt stained and threadbare. He narrowed his eyes as he studied the scarring around Daryl’s eye, and the multiple scars on his arms. When he circled around behind Daryl, he looked closely at his hands, seeing the callouses built up from years of hard labor. Daryl’s rugged look told the man a lot about him. He came around front and glared at Daryl again.

“Something tells me you don’t want to die. You look like that mean ol’ junkyard dog that never backs down from a fight no matter how many times he’s had to defend himself.” The man lowered his gun and pulled a hunting knife from his belt. As he slowly approached, he seemed to take joy in watching Daryl sit back further in the chair, as though he could move away from the approaching threat of a sharp blade. At the last moment, the man got down on one knee and cut the ropes around Daryl’s ankles. Then he cautiously went behind and cut them from his wrists. Instantly, the gun came back up. “Don’t try anything stupid.”

Daryl stayed where he was and lifted his hands in the air. He didn’t dare make a move unless the man told him to. The silence and tension were thick in the small cabin. Daryl had no idea whether this man was in his right mind or not, and he was genuinely worried about the shotgun aimed at his head. “My name’s Daryl,” he told him.

The man waved the gun, gesturing toward the door. “Well, Daryl, get the hell out of here before I change my mind. And don’t come back here. I might not be so kind next time.”

Daryl bowed his head down as he got up from the chair and carefully made his way to the door. Just before he stepped outside, he stopped and made eye contact with the man. He was actually very handsome, slim, trim, and younger than himself. But Daryl could tell he’d been through some real tragedy, much more than the average apocalyptic disaster. “You gonna tell me your name?” he dared to ask.

The man’s eyes quickly scanned Daryl from head to toe and back. Something about that gesture sent a shiver up Daryl’s spine. “Go on. Get out of here,” the man demanded. Daryl didn’t wait another second and he quickly made his way away from the cabin, and back to his own camp.

>>------->

Six months later, Daryl had gotten a visit from Carol. She’d met him from the opposite side of the river where it was most narrow. She’d been to see him a few times, and she always had the latest on what was going on with the communities. This time, after she tossed a bag full of food and supplies across the water to him, she’d said it would be the last time she would be by in a long time. The Kingdom was struggling to keep afloat. The infrastructure was breaking down, even though they spent a good amount of time fixing things to keep the place running. She admitted she didn’t know how much longer they could keep doing it, and that Ezekiel was in denial that there was anything really wrong. She had her hands full. She tried once again to talk Daryl into coming home, but he said he wasn’t ready yet. He still had places to search. Carol didn’t want to hear about it. Years ago, they’d had an argument about him living out here, searching for Rick when everyone but Daryl thought he was dead. She didn’t come back for almost a year after that blowup, so she didn’t bring up the touchy subject anymore. Still, she never stopped trying to get him to come back to his family.

Carol left and Daryl was heading back to his camp when he unsuspectingly came across several walkers. Daryl went after them, and fought them off, but he’d gotten roughed up in the process. During the fight, he hit his head on a tree, and scraped his forehead on the rough bark. The walker that tripped him up paid for it as Daryl’s boot came down on its skeletal head, popping it like a grape. He picked up his pack and made his way back to camp so he could wash up.

He had just sat down to take a look through the bag Carol brought when the shepherd showed up once again. The dog ran straight up to Daryl, whining and wagging his tail.

“Hey boy, what are you doing here?” Daryl said as he roughed up the dog’s fur. The dog didn’t seem desperate this time, so Daryl didn’t think there was a reason the shepherd was here. “Are you just checking up on me?”

He hadn’t given much thought to the man in the cabin since he left six months ago, but now he remembered the look in the man’s eyes right before letting Daryl go. The way his eyes lingered on him was only slightly telling. Or maybe he was wrong that the man had been observing Daryl’s physique in that split second before he left. He decided he was wrong about the exchange, and that the man was probably eyeing him for weapons or clues to where he came from. Maybe it was just wishful thinking on Daryl’s part.

It had been years since he’d had any kind of human contact, except for brief visits with Carol from across the river. As much as he hated to admit it, Daryl knew he was lonely. He never let it affect him, of course. Anyone who started feeling sorry for themselves, or who got tied up with their feelings didn’t make it long out in the wilderness. Letting yourself get carried away in daydreams made you weak. Besides, the last thing he needed to have invading his thoughts was his past … Aaron. Daryl had grieved enough, and moved on years ago. Aaron moved on too … with Jesus. The thought still made his anger rise, but he quelled it quickly. It was a useless emotion. Aaron was gone from his life, and Daryl was out here doing what he needed to do. He decided a long time ago that he was much weaker with Aaron. Being out here, Daryl was in control again. It was better this way.

The dog didn’t seem to want to leave, and after a while, Daryl made the decision to take him back home. He wasn’t exactly sure where the cabin was, so he followed the dog. When they arrived, the man was working outside and saw them approach. Daryl noticed he didn’t run for his shotgun. The dog ran to his owner, wagging his tail, barking excitedly. Daryl stopped short of the dirt yard.

The man greeted his dog and glanced up at Daryl, squinting against the bright rays of the sun. “Thanks for bringing him back.”

“No problem,” Daryl said. “He, uh, didn’t seem to want to leave on his own, and I thought you might be worried about him.”

The man allowed the dog to jump up on him, and bent forward to let his friend lick his face. “He wanders off on his own sometimes, but he always comes back.”

“What’s his name?” Daryl asked.

The man smiled. “Dog,” he answered.

“Easy to remember,” Daryl said.

When Dog ran off toward the cabin, the man stood and gave Daryl a good once over. It wasn’t the same way he examined him before. It wasn’t as intense or, dare he say, greedy. When his eyes settled on the wound on Daryl’s forehead, he became concerned. “Looks like you’ve got a pretty bad bump there.”

Daryl reached up and realized he’d never cleaned his wound. “It’s nothing,” Daryl said.

The man approached him for a closer look. Before he backed away, his eyes settled on Daryl’s. They were an interesting shade of hazel with flecks of gold around the pupils. Daryl realized he’d looked at him long enough to take notice of this, and felt a slight stirring in his gut. And just like that, the moment passed when the man backed away. He was considering something and finally stopped fighting with himself over the decision. “Come on inside, and I’ll patch you up,” he offered.

“I’m alright,” Daryl said, not wanting to be in debt to this man.

The man bowed his head and smiled. “You’re not one to accept help so easily, are you? Is that why you’re out here alone?”

Daryl didn’t like him prying into his life. “I’m out here on my own accord,” he said defensively.

The man put his hands on his hips and smiled up at the sky. “Yep, well, I suggest you be a little more careful. Living out in the wild isn’t for everyone.”

“I do just fine on my own,” Daryl retorted.

The man pointed to his own forehead, mocking Daryl, “I can see that,” he laughed. Then he turned to his home. “Come on,” he said, walking away. When he didn’t hear Daryl follow, he glanced over his shoulder without stopping. “I’m inviting you in this time.”

Daryl’s stubbornness tried to keep him from following, but his conscience told him to go. He rolled his eyes and followed reluctantly.

The cabin looked the same, though there were a few more rabbit pelts hanging on the wall. The blood stain from the walker he killed was barely visible. A fire danced in the fireplace. The mantel was still empty. The shotgun hung on a rack on the wall near the door. The place smelled like woodsmoke and herbs. Actually, it smelled quite delicious, but Daryl didn’t say anything.

The man kicked a chair out from the table and pointed. “Sit here,” he said, walking into the kitchen. He retrieved something from a cabinet and came back into the living room. Daryl was still standing next to the chair. “Please,” the man said in a kinder tone. Daryl sat.

The man brought another chair in front of Daryl and had a seat. He reached for Daryl’s head, but Daryl, by instinct, moved away from his touch. The man paused and looked into Daryl’s eyes again, this time with the same intensity as before. “May I?” the man asked gently. When he reached out, Daryl stayed put. The man moved his hair to the side and examined the wound. Then he proceeded to clean it and put a salve on it. Lastly, he taped a square of white gauze over the wound, and sat back. “All done,” he announced.

Their eyes stayed connected a moment too long in a way that only men of a certain type would allow to happen. Was it a signal? Daryl wondered. If it was, it was very discrete. Daryl stood right away. “Thanks,” he said uncomfortably, and made his way to the open door.

The man watched him go, but he didn’t try to stop him. “Watch your back out there.”

Daryl gave a wave of his hand without turning around, and left the man’s home. He dared to give a glance over his shoulder too see if he was being watched, but the door was already closed. Daryl decided he was wrong about what he sensed, and put it out of his mind once more.

>>------->

It had been eight months since Daryl saw another living human. There were the occasional walkers, but lately they hadn’t been very active. He was getting used to the new pattern, and tracing along the river, searching, always searching. He still had nothing to show for all his efforts of finding any sign of Rick. He ignored the fact that it had been seven years since he disappeared.

Today, he’d done something he rarely did. He let his guard down while out collecting firewood. By the time he noticed the walkers, they were too close. He took out a couple with his arrows, but more came from the woods. It was what he considered to be a small herd, too many for one man to take on. They were closing in on him, and his way out was shrinking. Daryl quickly checked which way would be his best option. He could knife a few and make a passage out. When he saw his opportunity, he went for it, stabbing a couple walkers in the head. However, the route he thought was best turned out not to be, and he was faced with more walkers. Almost completely surrounded, and about to kill another one, he heard a gun go off. Instinct told him to get down. The walker he was about to attack dropped to the ground next to him, a large hole in its rotted skull. Daryl turned to see who helped him, and saw the man from the cabin. He waved Daryl over, and started to move. Daryl followed. Quicker than the walkers, the men ran from the bulk of the herd. They stopped long enough for the man to take in his surroundings.

“This way,” he said. Daryl didn’t argue with him, and followed him. They whipped around a very large tree. Its trunk was partially hollowed out from disease or possibly a lightning strike. “Get in,” the man commanded.

“Are you kidding me?” Daryl said.

“They can’t see us from here. They’ll just move around us, and then we can get away,” the man explained.

“We can’t both fit in there,” Daryl claimed.

The man took a careful look around the tree and saw the herd was almost upon them. He pushed his way inside the tree trunk and pulled Daryl along with him. “Suck it in, buttercup,” he said.

There was no choice left, and Daryl let the man pull him in. They stood front to front, their bodies pushed tight against each other. Daryl was worried about the herd, and panic started to take over his body. His eyes dashed around wildly, like a trapped animal trying to find a way out.

“Hey,” the man said in a calm and even tone. “Just look at me, okay?”

Daryl focused on the man’s eyes, remembering their hazel color and the golden flecks. The same shiver claimed his spine as before. It could have been because he hadn’t been in such close contact with another person in seven years, or because he’d admitted to himself that he found the man attractive. Whatever the reason, Daryl knew he had shared something in common with the man as they gazed at one another. After what seemed like hours, but had only been a few moments, Daryl forced his gaze away from the man and looked around the area. The walkers had passed by. The area was clear. It had worked.

Daryl moved first, and pushed his way out of the tree like a baby being born. The man followed and smiled, glad that his idea had worked. “Hot damn, that really worked,” he celebrated.

Daryl felt things he hadn’t felt in a long time, and definitely not with anyone else but Aaron. No, this wasn’t right. He couldn’t handle anything like this right now. He didn’t need this kind of distraction. Instead of being grateful, he was angry. “Why are you here?”

The man seemed confused by Daryl’s change in attitude. “I was out hunting and spotted the walkers. I knew you lived down this way somewhere, and I thought I’d just check in and see that you were alright.”

“I’ve been out here for years. I don’t need no one’s help. You need to leave. Go and don’t come back this way. Stay up there on your part of the river,” Daryl demanded.

The man was shocked by Daryl’s drastic change. “Fine then,” he said, offended by Daryl’s lack of gratitude. He kept calm and started to walk away, but he turned back and called over his shoulder. “My name’s Will in case you wanted to know the name of the man who helped you.” With that, the man was gone.

Daryl stood still and watched him leave, but he never said a word. Why did he lash out like that? He could have just thanked him and let it go at that. But Daryl was caught off guard by something that stirred inside as he shared the small hiding spot with Will. Not since his last good days with Aaron had he been that close to another person, least of all a man as handsome as Will. Need and desire were things he’d learned to live without, but being crushed against another man’s body had stirred something within him. It scared him, and so he struck out and chased Will away. Daryl couldn’t afford any kind of distraction that would keep him away from his main goal.

>>------->

A few months later, and Daryl had tried everything possible to forget about the exchange with Will. For the most part, he wiped it out of his mind, but when it was late, and Daryl laid in his makeshift bed, hidden desires stirred his thoughts. He saw those hazel eyes looking back at him, wondering if the feeling was mutual, but afraid to say anything. Why did Daryl have to lash out at him like that? It wasn’t necessary. He could have just thanked the guy and let it go at that. But he had gotten angry and yelled, chased Will away. Not even Dog came back to check on him.

Daryl was fishing one day, and caught a rather large trout. His mouth watered just thinking about what a tasty meal it would make. Then a thought came to him, a way to make amends and maybe he’d stop thinking about how rude he’d been to the man who was just trying to help. Daryl packed up his fishing gear, and headed for the cabin. He would offer the large fish as a peace offering, and apologize for his behavior.

When he got to the cabin, though, he lost his nerve. He’d been such an asshole before. And it had been months since it happened. A gift and an apology were long past due. It wouldn’t mean anything at this late stage. But Daryl’s conscience screamed to at least do something. So, he tossed the fish onto the porch. It hit the door and came to rest in front of it. No one came out. It didn’t look like anyone was home. Satisfied that he had done something to make amends, he turned away and went back home.

He felt good about his decision, felt like he had recovered some of his pride by the gesture. Back at his camp, Daryl cleaned his fish and ate well for a change. Winter was moving in quickly, so having a full stomach gave him energy and helped him keep warmer. But now it was getting dark, and the temperature would plumet. Unfortunately, he would have to tamp down the fire. He couldn’t afford any unwanted attention. Walkers slowed in winter, but they were still a danger. He let the fire burn down to glowing embers and would spend the night keeping it that way, sacrificing warmth for protection. These were his least favorite times living out in the wilderness, and the winters got tougher every year. He told himself it was the weather, but deep down he knew it was partially because he was getting older. He could understand why people in days long ago didn’t live much past their forties. They lived a hard life that took its toll on the body. Seven years living out here probably shortened his lifespan. Hell, just being alive and surviving this apocalypse took years off your life.

The sun was getting ready to set, and Daryl was settling in for a long night when he was taken by surprise by a fish landing inside his tarp-covered home. He whipped around and found Will standing there, bundled up in a thick coat with tears in it.

Daryl stood and faced him. “What the fu–"

“I don’t need you bringing me your leftovers like some tomcat sharing his catch,” Will said with anger attached to every word.

“I was just trying to be nice,” Daryl countered.

“You burned that bridge when you told me to stay the hell away,” Will argued.

“Yet here you are,” Daryl returned.

“I don’t need you or anyone else being nice. Just leave me alone,” Will said, but his voice wavered by the end of his compliant.

“I promise I won’t bother you again,” Daryl spat.

“And I won’t visit you anymore. So, good luck the next time a large group of rotters come through,” Will told him.

Daryl glared a moment and thought about that. “What were you doing here that day?”

“I was hunting and–"

“You were hunting pretty far from your place.” Daryl accused. “Were you checking up on me?”

Will tried to keep up his tough façade, but he was having a difficult time. “If some stranger comes busting into your home and says he’s got a camp downstream, you tend to want to check out his story.”

“And?”

“It checks out.”

“I told you I wasn’t going to hurt you or rob you. I didn’t know anyone else was out here. And it was your damn dog that led me to your place to begin with. Otherwise, I might not have known about your cabin. I won’t bother you anymore, if that’s what you want. So, don’t bother me either.” Daryl turned his back to the man.

“Fine,” Will retorted.

Daryl felt him lingering, and ignored him so that he would go away. He waited to hear footsteps leading away from his camp, but Will was still standing there like he had something else to say. “You still here?”

“You’ll get frostbite on a night like this, especially without a fire going,” Will said ignoring Daryl’s lashing out.

“I’ll take my chances,” Daryl said with his back still toward Will.

It was silent for an uncomfortably long time before Will spoke again. “You can stay at my place for tonight.”

Daryl twisted to look up at Will. He gave it some thought, but wasn’t sure it was a good idea. “I don’t think–"

“If we’re going to be neighbors, then we better learn to get along. Just for tonight, that’s what I’m offering.”

It had been such a long time since Daryl had any interaction with another human, and a warm place to sleep for the night was very enticing. He didn’t know a thing about Will, but Daryl had always been a good judge of character. Aaron told him that a very long time ago. It hurt to think about him, so he pushed it out of his head, stood up, and accepted Will’s offer.

>>------->

The sun was just starting to rise, and Daryl began to stir when he heard glass breaking. He sat up quickly and got his bearings, remembering that he was at Will’s cabin. He was laying on the couch, warm from the fire in the fireplace, and glanced across the room. On the floor, across from the kitchen table, he saw Will on his knees. One of the floorboards was removed, and he was holding a picture frame, cursing himself for dropping it and breaking the glass. He must have caught movement from the corner of his eye because he looked up and saw Daryl watching him.

Daryl sat up, and kept a sharp eye on Will. What else was he hiding place beneath the floor? “You alright?” he asked from the couch.

“I’m fine. I just … broke something,” Will said. He stared longingly at the photo, got up, and moved to the table. He set the frame down in front of him.

Daryl got up from the couch and went to the table. He took a seat across from Will and waited for him to say something. It was obvious that Will was in a different state this morning. Daryl knew that look. The broken frame triggered a memory, and now it plagued his mind.

“Before the fall, where were you?” Will asked.

“I was home with my brother down in Georgia.”

“You’re lucky you had family.”

“If that’s what you want to call it,” Daryl mumbled, and Will looked up at him. “I was with my brother at the time.”

“No wife or girlfriend?” Will asked making eye contact.

“Nah,” Daryl answered tersely, connecting with Will as though sharing a secret that only men of their kind understood.

“Wasn’t like that for me either,” Will admitted, then his attention turned back to the photo in his hands. “I was in the army at the time.” He huffed a cynical laugh. “It was ridiculous. They thought they could get everything under control, but after what we saw . . .” He paused and shook his head. “We knew there was no coming back from that. Eventually, everything went to hell.” His words drifted off as his thumb caressed the picture.

“Is that your partner?” Daryl asked. There was no reason for secrets.

Will reluctantly gave a nod. “Troy.” He paused as though saying the name was painful. “We met in the military, an affair we had to keep secret. We were in the same unit, did a bunch of missions together. We were home on a reprieve when we got called back in, stationed at one of the big hospitals near D.C. Those of us who made it out formed an alliance, but through the years, people died or left and new ones came in.” He laid the framed picture on the table and spun it around for Daryl to see. “This last group of people had been together for a while. They were good people. We traveled from place to place, not staying for long wherever we went.”

“Was this the last place your group stayed?” Daryl wondered, glancing around at the cabin.

“No. We were north of here, a warehouse of some kind. There were five of us, and a pregnant dog, Dog’s mother. Anyway, Troy and I were out hunting when we were surprised by a big group of rotters. They were coming from all directions. We did what we could to keep them at bay, but there were too many. Troy pointed to a small gap, our last chance to break away before we got swallowed up. We ran like hell, and then Troy stumbled. I was going to go back for him, but he waved me on as he got back onto his feet. So, I ran … and I kept running. Some instinct told me to just go and not look back, this massive fear that took control of my legs and told me to run. Then Troy called out to me, and his voice was at a distance. I stopped and turned to find him barely out in front of the massive swarm, limping, and I went back for him. The warehouse was too far away, so we kept going and eventually lost the rotters. That’s when we found this place. When I knew we were safe, I tried to tend to Troy’s ankle, but he shooed me away, said it was just a sprain. I went out to gather some firewood, and Dog’s mother came out of nowhere. She went under the porch and wouldn’t come out. What worried me more was the fact that she was here, and the rest of our group wasn’t. Later, I went back to the warehouse, but all I found was blood and mangled bodies. They were all dead.”

Daryl heard his story, heard the sorrow and the guilt tinging Will’s words, and he knew there was more. “Troy’s ankle, it wasn’t a sprain, was it?”

Will gazed at Daryl, not with surprise for guessing correctly, but for the fact that Daryl seemed to know from experience how it played out. “He was bit.” He hung his head and looked at the photo in front of him, rubbing his finger over his deceased lover’s face. “I got so angry at first. I yelled at him, ‘Why didn’t you say something? We could have taken the leg, stopped the spread.’ He said his only concern was getting me out safely. He knew there was only enough time for one of us to make a clean break out of that mass.” Will stopped, picked up the picture and caressed it with his thumb again. “It was a selfless act; one I couldn’t make myself.” He glanced up at Daryl, guilt sitting upon his countenance. “I ran when I should have stayed with him and made sure he got away safely too.”

If Will was waiting for Daryl to tell him he wasn’t at fault, he’d be waiting a while. Daryl knew all about wrong decisions and the consequences afterwards. No one but yourself could release you from that kind of guilt and pain.

“The next day, the fever took Troy. I finished the job and buried him. As I was going back inside, I remembered the dog under the porch. When I looked, the mother was gone, and there were three dead puppies. I guess the stress made her go into labor, and as a result, she abandoned them. But then I heard the slightest little noise, and found a fourth puppy still alive.” Will glanced over at the shepherd laying across the room. “That was Dog, born the same day that Troy died.”

“I’m sorry,” Daryl whispered, gazing at a photo of two men with an arm around each other’s waist, smiling at the camera. He remembered when he first saw Dog, who must have only been a few months old, and realized that it wasn’t that long ago this happened to Will.

“You’re the first person I’ve seen since that time.” Will stood and went to a window. Outside was a grassy area with a cross made from branches. “I haven’t been able to leave this place. It’s quiet, not many disturbances, and … I don’t want to go far from here.” Will stood at the window another minute or so before he came back to the table. “What about you? You lose someone?”

“I’ve lost lots of people,” Daryl returned.

“I figured that much, but who did you lose that led you to living out here?”

Daryl always thought it was because of Rick that he lived in the wilderness, but it wasn’t just losing Rick. Aaron played a role in his disappearance too. Daryl couldn’t stand the thought of him moving on. He’d seen Aaron with Jesus a couple times and it was too much. Living in the community where there was still a chance of crossing paths was too much to deal with. Then Rick disappeared, and when everyone was ready to accept that he was dead, Daryl’s next mission was born.

He wouldn’t discuss his personal life with Will. It was a relief to know someone who didn’t know about his past. It was almost like having a clean slate. “I lost … my brother,” he finally answered.

“I knew it had to be someone close to you. What happened?” Will asked with genuine concern and curiosity.

“There was an accident and he fell into the river. I started searching for him that day, and I’ve never stopped.”

“Was it just the two of you?” Will asked.

“We had a group, but they gave in and gave up too fast. I couldn’t accept the fact that he was gone. I still don’t. He just … vanished, no trace of him at all. I should have found something, but there was no body, no walker, no clothing … nothing,” Daryl explained. It felt good to share his story and not have to divulge every bit of information.

“I’m sorry that happened to you,” Will said genuinely.

“Anyway, I should get out of your hair. Thanks for letting me crash,” Daryl said, standing and making his way to his pack and his bow.

As he was about to open the door, Will spoke again. “You’re good company, Daryl. Come back sometime.”

Daryl looked back over his shoulder. “Yeah?”

“Sure,” Will said, and Daryl gave a nod before leaving.

>>------->

Over the next month, Daryl and Will visited each other on a weekly basis. And when the winter really set in, Daryl spent more nights at Will’s cabin. Slowly, Daryl moved his stuff from his camp to the cabin, and before either man realized it, they were living together.

Daryl noticed that the picture, which Will took out regularly, stayed hidden beneath the floorboards more often. And as his friendship bloomed with Will, so did an inevitable curiosity that both men had for each other. They hunted and fished together, and complimented each other quite well. Both were experienced outdoorsmen, and what one lacked, the other made up for. Before either one realized it, they had fallen into a routine. They were up early to check traps, hunt, fish, clear the surrounding land of walkers, and then they came back to clean their catch. Daryl helped Will with daily chores and maintenance on the cabin. Before they knew it, winter was waning, and spring was on its way.

It was the first warm day they’d had in a long time, and they were out chopping wood for the stove and the fireplace. Daryl was chopping, and Will was coming back with an arm full of wood. He dumped it on the ground near Daryl and stood there watching him work. “So, I guess you’ll be going back to your camp soon,” Will said, fishing for information.

Daryl stopped chopping, squinting against the sun, and looked over to Will. “Do you want me to?” he asked, and patiently waited for an answer.

“Not necessarily,” Will said. “You’ve been a big help around here. Things get done more efficiently. And you make a mean venison stew.” Will smiled as he said the last part. “What about you? Do you want to go?” he asked, putting Daryl on the spot.

Daryl watched him a moment and then shrugged. “I’d take your couch any day over the cold hard ground, but if you want me to go–"

“No,” Will interrupted. “It’s … good having you here.” He seemed embarrassed to admit it.

Daryl allowed the corner of his mouth to curl into a half smile. “I’ll stay.”

“I mean, you don’t have to. I was just–"

“I want to,” Daryl admitted.

Will’s eyes connected with Daryl’s and he smiled in return. “Good.” The moment didn’t last more than a few seconds, but a lot was said in that one glance.

For the rest of the day, Daryl thought about his choice to stay. Was it smart to team up with someone? Would it distract him from his goal of searching for Rick? He wasn’t ready to give up on that yet. There was still a lot of ground to cover. But changing up his routine had felt good, and he really did enjoy Will’s company. He looked out into the direction of the river, and suddenly the need to search and travel wasn’t as urgent as it had been. Then he looked back at Will, and felt content for the first time in a very long time.

The day’s chores were done and now the sun was setting. The air was quickly cooling down. Although it was a warm day, the nighttime temperature would still dip low. Daryl approached the cabin with the last pail of water, filling a barrel that sat outside the house.

Inside, Will had gotten the stove going and was now placing logs in the fireplace. They were settling down for another night after a long day of working. Daryl walked inside and saw Will finishing up. When the door opened, Will looked up and over his shoulder. He smiled when he saw three squirrels hung over Daryl’s shoulder. It meant they would eat good tonight.

Soon, the house was filled with warm air and the smell of roasting meat. The men sat down at the table, and had their dinner. They ate in silence, as both men stuffed their mouths. Daryl noticed how he actually had an appetite. Food seemed to taste better lately too. No doubt it had something to do with the company he kept.

“We’ll need to plant crops soon. We’re almost past the point where frost could be an issue,” Will mentioned.

“I didn’t know you grew food,” Daryl said.

“I had some issues last growing season, and I lost my winter stores.”

“What issues?” Daryl wondered.

“Pests. Rabbits, deer, the usual suspects,” said Will taking another bite of meat.

“I can help you with that,” Daryl offered. He took another bite and laughed silently to himself. “I take it you weren’t much of a gardener before.”

Will pushed his blond hair from his face and huffed. “I grew up on concrete in the city. Fruits and vegetables came from the store, not the ground or the trees.”

“I grew up in a trailer home, and learned from a young age how to fend for myself. I didn’t have much of a choice. If you didn’t hunt, you didn’t eat.”

“Sounds awful,” Will commented.

“Life had it’s good moments, like sleeping under the stars and listening to the frogs sing. Living out here doesn’t bother me too much. Reminds me of my youth.”

They started talking about their families and how they grew up. Neither one had an exemplary upbringing, and they grew up in two very different worlds. The talk turned somber and Will dove deeper into the dark side of growing up.

“My folks kicked me out as soon as I turned eighteen. Said I was old enough to start my own life and take care of myself. But in actuality, I came out to them a year before, and they were just biding their time until they weren’t legally obligated to keep me in their home anymore. I spent a year with parents that gave me the silent treatment. Unless we were sitting at the table eating, my dad wouldn’t stay in the same room with me. Biggest mistake I ever made.”

“My dad would have literally killed me if he ever knew about me,” Daryl shared. Until that moment, he hadn’t confirmed to Will his sexual orientation. The only hint he gave were the few times they shared a gaze that lasted too long.

“I had a feeling,” Will smiled bashfully.

A huge weight felt as though it had lifted. Daryl had never come out to anyone except Aaron and people he felt very close to. It wasn’t like he went up to strangers and confessed that he was gay. And most people who found out were shocked. Daryl didn’t exactly fit the profile of a gay man. He was a redneck, always had been. Will didn’t seem thrown off by that, and Daryl was relieved.

“Let me guess. Before the turn, you were a mechanic and you specialized in motorcycles,” Will said, feeling rather relaxed in Daryl’s company, especially now that they had cleared the air about their sexuality.

“You’ll never guess,” Daryl mumbled. “And, by the way, everyone always says mechanic. What about you?”

“I bounced from here to there, picking up the occasional odd job, never having enough money. If it wasn’t for a friend, I would have been living on the streets with other boys like me. I saw how they got by, hanging around seedy neighborhoods, making a buck by sucking off old men so they could get high and forget about their horrible situation. That’s when I decided to join the military. Food, lodging and an education all in one big box tied with a pretty bow,” Will reminisced.

“Too bad they didn’t teach you about growing crops,” Daryl jested. He was silent a moment and his mood turned somber. “Things weren’t so great for me growing up either. My mom died when I was young. My dad was a drunk who beat me every chance he got. My brother could be a real asshole, but he taught me how to survive. We lived in some backwoods trailer park. My dad ran moonshine and other illegal shit across state lines. Eventually, my brother and I were recruited into the family business. Needless to say, we ran with a rough crowd. And then one day we heard the reports of people getting sick and attacking other people. A couple days later the army bombed Atlanta. When the smoke cleared, my brother saw opportunity in the devastation. We’d find a group, get accepted in, and rob them in the middle of the night. I never did feel good about that, but we were surviving.”

“You did what you had to do,” Will remarked. “That’s all any of us could do.”

“Yeah, but we didn’t have to do that,” Daryl said quietly, bowing his head.

“You don’t strike me as that kind of guy anymore,” Will said, making Daryl look up at him.

“I’m not,” Daryl replied, and they left it at that.

They moved from the table to the living room. Daryl took a seat on the couch, and Will settled down in his favorite chair. They watched the flames dance and the wood pop, and succumbed to the safety and comfort that the warmth brought.

“I’m a little surprised by your dedication to finding your brother. Don’t get me wrong. I don’t know all of your story, but he kind of seemed like an asshole,” Will mentioned, hoping he didn’t upset Daryl.

But Daryl gave a short laugh. “He was definitely an asshole, but he was my brother.” That was all Daryl had to say about it. He didn’t know why, but he didn’t want to go any deeper with that story. Will saw him in a certain light, and he didn’t find it necessary to tell him anymore, even though the brother he spoke of died long ago, and the one he searched for wasn’t blood related. It didn’t seem to matter anymore. They were all just stories now.

“Hey, I got something I’ve been saving,” Will said out of the blue. He jumped up from his chair and went to the kitchen. He came back with two glasses and a half bottle of whiskey. He approached Daryl, who was still on the couch. “May I?”

Daryl moved over and Will sat next to him. Daryl took the offered glass, and Will poured the amber liquid into both glasses. They toasted silently, clicking glasses, and then downed the shot-sized pour.

“Damn, that’s good stuff,” Daryl commented.

Will showed him the bottle. “George T. Stagg bourbon, aged fifteen years. Comes straight out of the charred barrels, unfiltered and uncut. Probably about seven hundred dollars a bottle. I found it in a glove compartment of a car when I was out scavenging.” Will poured a bit more into their glasses. “I was saving it for me and Troy. We had an anniversary coming up, thirteen years. I know it wasn’t one of the big ones, but every year we’re alive feels like a special occasion.” Will leaned forward and gently set the bottle on the coffee table. He held up his glass and watched the fire through the liquid gold.

“You were together a long time,” Daryl commented.

“What about you? Was there a significant other in your life?” Will asked.

Daryl was quiet as he thought about how to answer that. Did he even want Will to know that much about his past? It was nice not knowing a lot about each other, but it was also therapeutic to talk about some of it. “There was,” he finally answered. “But he’s gone now.”

“Sorry, man,” Will replied, and Daryl knew he thought that meant his partner was dead. It was good to leave it at that and not complicate things. “Here’s a toast to those we loved and lost,” Will said, and Daryl raised his glass too.

“May they be happier wherever they’re at now,” Daryl added. He couldn’t stop himself from wondering if Aaron was really happier with Jesus. If anything, he was better off. Daryl was broken, and he wasn’t sure he could ever be good enough for Aaron.

They had meant to savor the bourbon, but ended up drinking a bit more than they should have. Both men were feeling the effects of the rich man’s drink. It had warmed them from the inside as the fire warmed the outside. Now, they were slouched on the couch, shoulders leaning against each other. They had been telling stories about their past lives, keeping the conversation light as they spoke of better days and funny predicaments they had found themselves in. For now, they forgot about the hardships and the world outside, and just enjoyed their company. They were laughing heartily at one of Will’s military mishaps when Will, unknowingly laid his hand on Daryl’s thigh. He hadn’t meant anything by it. It was just something he used to do with Troy. The laughter slowly died away, and Will pulled his hand back.

“Sorry,” he said quietly.

Daryl didn’t have to say anything. He could just let the moment slip away. They were both half in the bag and they could just blame it on the whiskey, but he wasn’t sure that’s what he wanted. It actually felt nice, the warmth of Will’s palm upon his thigh. It had been years since he had felt a human touch, especially the touch of another man. He glanced at Will and recognized the regret of having stepped over some invisible line. Daryl took the glass from Will’s hand and set it on the table next to his own. Then he looked back at Will while still bent forward. Their eyes connected much like they had in the hollowed out tree. As Daryl sat back, he twisted so he was facing Will. They closed the distance at a slow pace, both men unsure about whether to keep going or not. When neither one protested, they came together, lips on lips, a gentle test. They separated and waited to see if the other would stop, but a fire burned in both their gazes, and when they came together again, they crushed their mouths together with unheeding desire. The taste of whiskey on their tongues heightened their senses, and suddenly they couldn’t get close enough to one another. Will’s hands grabbed at Daryl’s shirt, pulling him in closer. Daryl’s hands roamed over Will’s shoulders, moving down to his waist, lifting the edge of his shirt so that his fingers could dig into flesh and muscle. Will reluctantly separated from Daryl’s mouth so he could work on the buttons of Daryl’s shirt. He stopped when Daryl started to lift the t-shirt off of Will’s body, and continued after he was stripped bare-chested. Daryl observed the body before him as Will worked each button. He was trim and well defined with only a couple scars. Will pushed Daryl’s shirt from his shoulders and looked down at the body before him. Daryl’s body looked more like a roadmap with evidence of all his battles throughout the years. Will didn’t seem to care. He pulled Daryl against him, their naked chests crushed together as they continued kissing and nipping at each other.

“Is it wrong that I want you?” Will whispered into Daryl’s ear.

“Ain’t nothing wrong about that because I want you too,” Daryl answered as he maneuvered them so that Will was now laying on the couch with Daryl hovering above him.

“It’s … been a long time,” Will admitted.

“Same for me.” Daryl undid Will’s belt, unbuttoned his pants and slid the zipper down, all the while noticing the delicious bulge hidden within. “I’ve got a remedy for that though.” He released Will from his confines, and began stroking him.

Eyes closed, back arched, and prick pulsating in Daryl’s hand, Will was lost to the feel of seduction. He wouldn’t last long. And with just another stroke, Daryl watched him spend himself across his chest. Will opened his eyes, and quickly turned his head to the side, embarrassed for his speedy response. “I … that hasn’t happened since I was a teenager.”

“Hey,” Daryl whispered, laying a finger on Will’s chin and turning his head to face him. “It’s okay. We’ve got all night.”

Will sat up on his elbows. “Just tonight?” he questioned with sultry eyes.

Daryl moved off of Will and sat upright on the couch next to him. “Do you want it to be more than that?” Up until now, Daryl was just moving from day to day. They were both solitary creatures. He hadn’t thought of making their living situation permanent.

“I’m saying, let’s just see where this goes,” Will said, sitting up next to Daryl. He leaned in and kissed Daryl, bringing the heat back up to where it had just been.

When Will got on his knees between Daryl’s thighs, and began undoing his pants, his prick hardened so fast that it ached with anticipation. He watched himself spring free, watched Will’s fingers wrap around his length and slide up and down. He tried to keep his eyes on Will as his lips touched the head, tongue darting out and tasting him for the first time. It was too much, and he threw his head back as the warmth of Will’s mouth surrounded him completely. Daryl’s hips came off the couch, trying to get as much of himself engulfed as possible. The pressure of Will sucking his cock set him on fire, and a moment later he was warning Will that he was close. But instead of finishing him off with his hand, Will sucked harder and faster, his tongue caressing the underside. Daryl pushed on Will’s shoulders, trying to make him realize he was about to come, but Will seemed to want this. Daryl’s hands moved to Will’s shoulder length blond hair, fingers intertwining in the thick mane. He held the heavy head steady and began pumping into the warm, eager mouth. With another thrust, he came violently, and Will took it all. He didn’t release Daryl until he had emptied the last of his essence. Finally, Will came to rest beside Daryl on the couch. Neither man said a word, but both wore satisfied smiles as they watched the flames dance in the fireplace.

“That was good,” Daryl whispered when he had caught his breath.

“Just wait until I take you to the bedroom,” Will said seductively.

They kissed again and it quickly grew feverish. Before they knew it, they were stumbling to the bedroom, undressing each other along the way, leaving a trail of discarded clothes. Dog laid on the rug in front of the fireplace, and watched them go, knowing that tonight there wouldn’t be room for him in the bed. He let out a whimper and a long sigh, and seemed content that he now had two owners.

>>------->

Daryl woke up just as the sun started to rise, and looked to his side. Will laid on his stomach, arms under his pillow, body stretched out long and lean with the sheet barely covering his ass. It had been a good night, an exhausting night as they made love several times. Will was completely happy being the sheath, and Daryl was fine with that. They fit together perfectly, and complemented each other in every way. Will had been very attentive to Daryl’s needs and dislikes. Just thinking about it made Daryl’s cock twitch to life. He contemplated taking him again this morning, but he really needed to get the day started. Instead, he eased himself out of bed so as not to wake Will, and stood, naked, looking out the window. The sky was lighting up pink, peaking through the clouds. It would rain today, he thought to himself, another reason to get an early start to their chores. Then he heard the sheets rustling behind him.

“Come back to bed,” Will said with a groggy voice.

“It’s gonna rain. We need to–"

“We don’t need to do anything,” Will interrupted. “Especially if it’s going to rain. We could just stay in bed all day if we wanted to.”

“You drive a hard bargain,” Daryl said, turning back to the bed.

Will’s eyes scanned the well-toned naked body before him. “Damn, you look good.” He covered his face with his hand. “Did I just say that out loud?”

“What you really want to say is I look good for an old man,” Daryl corrected jokingly.

“What? Come on. You’re not old,” Will retaliated.

“How old do you think I am?” Daryl asked as he prowled toward the bed.

Will took the opportunity to gawk at every inch of the man before him before answering. “Forty five,” he guessed.

“How old are you?” Daryl asked before giving an answer.

“I’m thirty four, I think. Sometimes it’s difficult to remember. Time passes differently now.”

“Thirty four?” Daryl shook his head. He hadn’t expected Will to be that young. He thought he was closer to forty. “I’m fucking fifty two.”

“Well, you fuck like a twenty five year old,” Will smiled.

Daryl crawled onto the bed and onto Will’s eager body, already laid out in position. “Is that right?” He laid on top of Will so that their cocks rested against each other. His hips started making small circles, and both men started to harden.

“I want you inside me again,” Will whispered with warm breath caressing Daryl’s ear.

Daryl didn’t hesitate and gave Will what he wanted. He immediately set a rhythm and a moment later had Will crying out in ecstasy. Daryl came hard within the tight space, and laid within him until he softened. Reluctantly, they separated, Daryl coming to rest beside Will. He felt he needed to confess something personal, and in the last vestiges of darkness he spoke quietly. “I’ve only been with one other man. We were together for a long time, but I lost my way, and eventually I lost him as well.” Daryl turned to his side and faced Will. “I felt I needed to tell you that, especially since you told me your story about you and Troy.”

“We’ve both loved and lost, but it’s okay to move forward. Don’t you think they would have wanted that for us?” Will said.

Would Aaron even care if Daryl moved on? After all, he had moved on with Jesus. “I don’t know. I guess.”

“Hey, there’s a reason why we found each other, and I for one am really glad it happened.” Will leaned in and kissed Daryl.

Daryl tucked a blond lock behind Will’s ear. “So am I.”

>>------->

It had been ten months since that first night Will and Daryl made love. At first, they were crazy about each other, making love whenever and wherever they felt like it. But the niggling in the back of Daryl’s mind never went away. Every day he spent in bliss with Will was a day he wasn’t out looking for Rick. What if he missed something because he was tied up in tangled legs and twisted sheets?

Slowly, Daryl started the search again. At first, he would only be gone a few hours, always home in time for supper. Then he started staying out late. Eventually he was going on overnight trips, back by morning. Overnight turned into two, three, four days at a time. He would try and make up for it by giving Will all of his attention, and making love to him multiple times when he was home. It had worked at first, but soon, Will caught on, and they began to argue. Daryl always had an excuse or an explanation, and he was very convincing. Soon, even that wasn’t enough to keep them from fighting about Daryl’s frequent disappearances. Will thought they had both moved on with their lives, with each other, but now it was apparent that Daryl was still living in the past.

They had been eating dinner in silence. Daryl could tell Will had something to say, but he was trying to at least have a decent meal without arguing. Daryl’s bags and weapon sat packed next to the front door. In the morning, Daryl was heading out again, but this time it would be the longest he’d ever been away.

“It’s only for a couple weeks, three at the most,” Daryl said, knowing the conversation was eventually going to be about his leaving again.

“That’s how it always is with you. It’s only for a day. It’s only for a week. Now it’s two weeks ... three. Next thing, you’ll be gone for months at a time,” Will complained yet again.

“I’ve searched all over around here. I’m at the point where I have to branch out further and cover new terrain,” Daryl argued.

“Why do you have to look at all?” Will yelled back at him. “When you moved in here, I thought you were finished with your past life. I thought you had acknowledged the fact that seven years was long enough to look for someone, and accepted that your brother was gone. I thought we were starting over together. I let go of Troy as soon as I knew how I felt about you. But you’ve never given up on your brother, and you put that before us. It’s not fair, Daryl. You can’t have both. This place isn’t a base camp. I want you here, with me, as a part of my life. We’re good together, and you know that, but I won’t live in your dead brother’s shadow.”

“Are you giving me an ultimatum?” Daryl challenged. “Because I don’t respond well to that kind of shit.”

“I’m saying that I want you, all of you. I’m falling in love with you, but you’re never here. You’re still out there, walking that damn river, looking for ghosts. I’m asking you to accept that your brother is gone, and see what you have right in front of you,” Will pleaded, speaking from the heart.

Daryl could hear the sincerity in Will’s voice. His confession hadn’t slipped by unnoticed, and Daryl thought that he could even love Will in return. But when he was alone, he couldn’t get the sound of the river running out of his mind. It called to him, and the mystery left unsolved would always scratch at his brain. Every time he left Will he was almost certain it would be THE time. It was like buying a lotto ticket every day, and feeling that the one time you didn’t buy one was ticket that held your winning numbers. He wanted to stay. He really did. But . . .

“Give me two weeks, and when I come back, I promise I’ll stay … permanently,” Daryl tried to compromise.

Will looked at him with sorrowful eyes. “I’m afraid it will always be just one more with you, Daryl.”

“This is the last time,” Daryl said convincingly. “I promise. But I have a good feeling about this. There’s an area of the river where it’s created a whirlpool. It’s possible something got trapped there and–"

“And then what? You find a shoe, a belt, a button from his shirt, and what? Will you stop?” Will shook his head. “I don’t think you can. It’s like an addiction, and I can’t compete with that.”

Daryl stood and went to Will, surrounding him with strong arms. “Whether I find something or not, this is the last time.” He laid gentle kisses along Will’s neck, and guided him from the table. “I want to make love to you,” Daryl said as they made their way to the bedroom. Will knew he shouldn’t, but he wanted Daryl too. Daryl had always been a master of seduction. He was Will’s weakness, and that scared him more than he could have imagined.

In the morning, before the sun came up, Daryl eased out of bed, dressed, and grabbed his pack. Dog met him at the door, cried quietly, and gave him an eager look. Daryl got down on one knee and ruffed up the shepherd’s hair. “You’re in charge while I’m gone. Keep an eye on him, okay?” he said, and Dog twisted his head in understanding. With that, Daryl left the cabin and headed out on his mission. He glanced back at the cabin. Something felt different this time, and he started second guessing his choice to leave. “No,” he told himself. “I made him a promise. This is the last time, and then we’ll make it work.”

All day, as Daryl made his way down river, he kept thinking about what Will said. I think I’m falling in love with you. Those words repeated over and over again in his head. He would try to clear his thoughts and concentrate on his mission. This could very well be the time he found something of Rick’s that would suggest which way he’d went. But what then? Say he found something, would he be able to go back to Will and never look for more evidence that Rick was still alive? He tried to convince himself otherwise, but Daryl knew the truth. Will was right. He was an addict.

… falling in love with you. The words rang out again. What was he doing? Why couldn’t he give up the ghost and start new with Will? What was holding him back? Was it really about Rick, or was it about Aaron too? All these years he’d been searching for Rick, was it about denying the fact that Aaron didn’t want him anymore? Was Daryl just biding his time, hoping Aaron would come around and find him, tell him he wanted him back?

Daryl stopped and sat down on a rock. He held his head in his hands and pulled at his hair. He’d let Aaron into his thoughts. “Get out. Leave me alone,” he said to himself. “Why did you have to run to Paul? Why did it have to be him? He’s always pined for you, and you knew that. Did you secretly want him too? Is that why you didn’t fight for us? I was broken after what happened with the Saviors. I was beaten, tortured, raped, forced to accept such cruel punishment. I wanted to reach out to you, but I just couldn’t find it within myself. I was depending on you to pull me from the darkness, but you gave up on me. I gave up on myself. Now you’re with someone else, and I’m . . .” Daryl looked around him as the reality of his situation hit him in the face. “And I’m falling in love with Will.” He couldn’t believe he admitted it, but there it was. He felt it in his heart. “What am I doing out here?” he questioned himself. “I’ve got what I need, and I’ve been blind to it all this time. Will was right.”

Daryl gathered his things and started the long walk back to the cabin, back home to Will. It felt as though a veil was lifted, and he was finally seeing everything crystal clear. He wanted Will, wanted to be with him, make love to him, live a simple life together … start over.

By the time he got home, the sun was beginning to set. He burst into the cabin, finally satisfied and ready to commit. “I’m home,” he called out. “Will, I’m back for good.” As he spoke, he noticed the fireplace was dark and cold. He went into the kitchen. “I’m sorry for what I put you through,” he admitted. Finding the kitchen empty, he moved on to the bedroom. “I know what I want, and it’s you. It’s us … this … life.” As he spoke, his words trailed off into silence. The closet door was left open, and most of Will’s clothes were gone. “Will?” he called out again, leaving the bedroom and heading for the front door. Maybe Will was outside, he told himself, ignoring the missing clothes. The shotgun that hung by the door was missing too.

Daryl stepped out onto the porch and down the steps. “Will?” Daryl called several times. Maybe he’d just gone out hunting, he lied to himself.

Dog came out of nowhere, barking and glad to see Daryl. His heart skipped a beat, knowing Will wouldn’t leave without his loyal companion. Dog was special to him, the last thing he had that reminded him of Troy. No … there was one more thing. Daryl dashed back into the house and pulled up the floorboard. The small stash of canned goods, candles, matches, and a first aid kit were still hidden away. And the broken picture frame was there too. But the picture of Will and Troy was gone, and that could only mean one thing. Will was gone.

Daryl sat back on his heels and felt the wind go out of his sails. “No,” he whispered. Dog came up next to him and started licking his face. “He’s gone, isn’t he, boy?” Dog sat and tilted his head to the side. “But why did he leave you behind?” Dog went to Daryl and half laid in his lap, quietly whimpering. “I’m too late. I’m always too late.”

Daryl closed his eyes and hung his head. Will was gone, and there was nothing to do about it. He instantly built the wall around his heart again. Luckily it wasn’t too damaged. What a bunch of bullshit. He was hurt, but he knew it was his own fault. Looking around the cabin, he knew he couldn’t stay. It was time to go back to his lonely life. It was the risk he took when he agreed to move in with Will. Part of him knew it would end like this, but a part of him hoped it wouldn’t. He didn’t work hard enough to make the latter come true, and now Will was gone.

After a while, Daryl decided it was time to go. He packed up a few canned goods, and rolled up a blanket left behind in the bedroom closet. He sat on the couch a moment, remembering the first time they kissed beside the crackling fire, and how happy he was the next morning after making love all night. All the confessions in the dark weren’t enough for him to really try and make it work with Will. Once again, it was his own fault.

He stood from the couch and started for the door when he noticed the pad of paper and pencil still sitting on the kitchen table. They used to use it to leave notes for each other. Gone hunting, be back by the afternoon. Washing clothes at the river. Those kinds of messages let them know where the other was so they wouldn’t worry. Now, Daryl picked up the pencil and scribbled a quick note. He tore the paper from the pad and walked over to the hole in the floor, placed the note inside and replaced the floorboard. Then he left with Dog at his side. This time, Daryl didn’t look back at the cabin. He headed back to his original camp with all the things he owned, and settled back into his solitary life, as though the last ten months never happened. He only held onto a small hope that Will would find the note and come back to him, but as the weeks and months passed by, he let that go too.

And then one day, Carol showed up with her son, Henry, now grown into a young man, and told him it was time to come home. So, he went.
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Safe Haven in the Chaos