Funniest character: Oh Milton. I just wanted you to live so badly. I mean it's not in general a funny show, but most characters have their humorous moments.
Prettiest character: Maggie Greene is so damned pretty, and Michonne is fucking stunning.
Most bad-ass character: Carol Peletier. She's come so far and I'm just so proud of her.
Character I’d like as my BFF: Shane Walsh. He's got my sense of humor and the man seems the type that would go for a midnight drive in his pyjamas with you to get drive thru and sing Queen at the top of his lungs.
Character that’s ruined my life: Every last damn one of them. My precious fucking children keep dying! But right now, Shane Walsh and Daryl Dixon are making my soul just about quiver with feels!
The winter is tough on all of them. It's stressful, it's terrifying most of the time and when they find a house that's stable enough to sleep in for the night it feels like a godsend. The hunt for food and drink is difficult, they are constantly on foot, Lori is uncomfortable most of the time and Rick is almost always on edge and angry. Daryl knows they're surviving, but sometimes it's hard to believe that there is anything more than this life left for them anymore. It's not enough to spur them on all the time.
Still sometimes you have to take the small victories, and finding a secure house with fences and just that little bit more protection than the others, is a victory. Rick looks exhausted and it's not difficult for Daryl to take up the first watch and let the man actually get some rest. So he takes up a seat on the windowsill in the hallway, peering out into the darkness as the others set up camp in the living room. He doesn't mind, he's never been a social butterfly anyway, and besides he's probably better at seeing in that dark than the rest of them.
It's a few hours in when he hears the sound of someone moving. He guesses it's Lori feeling uncomfortable again, the baby probably kicking at her bladder and making her need to creep out to deal with it. So it's a real surprise when Maggie comes out of the living area and quietly closes the door behind herself.
"Hey." She keeps her voice low, clearly not wanting to disturb anyone as she tiptoes closer, a blanket about her shoulders as she leans on the other side of the windowsill to him. "Anything to report?"
"Nah." And he's looking away from her and back out the window, peering to the trees that surround them for anything out of the ordinary. "Nothin', it's been pretty quiet." Maggie nods and then there's a silence creeping between them that isn't exactly the most comfortable.
Maggie fidgets, picking at the peeling paint, her fingernails tapping at the window and she rocks from side to side. Daryl knows he's not the best with people, but right now he's lost as to what the hell to say or do.
"I can't sleep." Maggie blurts out to him, as if he'd asked why she was here before the shift change for taking watch. He nods in understanding but doesn't look to her at all. "Nightmares. Everytime I close my eyes I see them dying. I can see my mom, Shawn, dad, Beth, even Glenn, I see them dead, rotting, bit and turned and I'm the only one left." Daryl deliberately doesn't look away from the window when he hears a small choked sob catch in her throat. "But it doesn't go away when I open my eyes, and that's the worst part."
Daryl's breath fogs up the glass of the window and he rubs away the mist to keep his eyes on the outside world and not the young woman baring all her worries to him. He wants to help, but has no clue how to.
"I'm scared. I'll admit it. It scares me that I could lose them. I've already lost so much and now out here..." Without the farm she'd grown up on, the promise of a furture from a young age, the knowledge that she'd be a farmer like her father and carry it all on in the same house she'd grown up in. Now it was gone. "How do you do it?"
"Huh?" And then he is looking at her, curious, wondering exactly what she was asking him.
"Glenn said you had a brother and that he might not be dead but just out there, with one hand, in this hell. How'd you carry on everyday, not worried at all about him?" She sniffs, curling the blanket around her fingers and watching him carefully. "My dad and Beth are right here and I can't stop worrying about them all the time."
He picks at his fingers, his nails, lifts a hand to chew on them before giving a loose shrug. He likes the Greene girl, she's strong as hell and got a good head on her shoulders, and was becoming a good shot too. She was fitting right in and fighting, even if she was breaking down right now. "I worry." He grunts with a small nod, fidgeting, not exactly comfortable with talking about himself but knowing that she needs something from him right now. "I worry 'bout Merle, and I know he's probably worrying 'bout me too."
"So how do you carry on?" She asks, stepping closer to him, their conversation still in whispers and fogging up the glass next to them.
Curling his cold fingers into loose fists he knows she needs this, and heck maybe he can't give the best advice in the world, but least he's got something to give. "When we was kids I spent a lot of time on my own. My dad was a worthless drunk, mom died when I was young and Merle was in juvie or prison or hanging out with his friends, so I was on my own. I learnt that sometimes you've gotta look out for yourself first. Took a long time to learn that sometimes Merle weren't always gonna be there to back me up, but I learnt to take care of myself." Giving a small huff of air he knows it's not coming out right, but he'd never claimed to be any good at this shit. "All I'm saying is, it's good that you're here to look after your dad and sister, but the thing is, they gotta look after themselves too. I still worry 'bout my brother, but I know he can look after himself and that makes it easier."
Maggie is watching him, she looks calmer, a small smile at the corner of her lips and she uses the blanket to mop up the trace of tears hanging on her lashes. "My dad can shoot I guess, and Beth...I can teach her. She can learn to protect herself." She nods, looking determined and that kind of makes Daryl respect her even more. "I'll teach them."
"It ain't gonna stop you worrying." He tells her, opening and closing his fists to try and keep the blood circulating in the cold air. "But it'll help to know they can take care of themselves. Make it easier to breathe a little." Because he remembers how sometimes you could feel the worry constricting around your chest when it got too bad. He doesn't want her to feel like that.
There's another moment of silence, but it's not awkward or painful, it's just kind of companionable and Daryl can enjoy that. Maggie gives a small smile to him, leaning closer, lifting an arm to drape the blanket off of her own shoulder and over Daryl's instead. He can feel her warmth in the fabric and it's not a few seconds before he's curling his fingers into the edge and tugging his side about him better. She presses closer to him, the two of them sharing the blanket and their warmth beneath it, moving to watch the world out of the window together.
"Thanks." Daryl mumbles, and Maggie gives a small nudge to his side before they share a smile.
merrymaggies replied to your post:Things More Toppy than Dean Winchester (according...
bottomdean is my entire reason for breathing
Because it is the one true way. Fact: I was once reading a fic and it was so good and had so much potential them BOOM! Top!Dean. I felt so betrayed that I closed the tab and never looked back.
