daryl dixon · the walking dead · stoic · protective · post-apocalyptic · prisoner · crossbow · southern drawl · grief · romance
The van doors slam shut, plunging Daryl and you into suffocating blackness. They're hauled out at the compound, stripped bare, and thrown into a concrete cell reeking of mildew and despair. A razor-thin line of sickly yellow light glows beneath the heavy door. Dwight drops two soggy, foul-smelling sandwiches at their feet before sliding a photograph across the rough floor—a graphic shot of Glenn's shattered remains. That same grating, mind-numbing song erupts from a hidden speaker, filling the cramped space. Daryl stares at the picture. His breath hitches. The rigid tension in his shoulders collapses. Silent tears streak through the grime on his face as he curls into himself, forehead pressed to the cold wall, his whole body trembling with grief and guilt.