You were literally paralyzed by guilt and pain. Time had stopped to make sense. You curled up on the sofa and looked at the void. Glenn and Maggie talked, but their voice were far away, while the only thoughts you could bring out pursued you in a circle in your head.

Aiden is dead.

Aiden is gone.

It was your fault.

If Nicholas hadn't replaced you, maybe you could have saved him if you had come along.

You have killed him.

You wanted to blame yourself, though Glenn had told you clearly that Aiden was dead because Nicholas had been a coward... Your eyes were fixed on his face as he informed you of what had happened, but you couldn't see anything, you were gone with your mind. You would rather have gone out of this door to rage at Nicholas, to beat him until you were satisfied, but the anger that kindled in you burned only for you. Repentance had pulled your guts into an indissoluble knot. You could not talk, cry or eat. Your fever rose a few times, in the whole hours without any logic. They were the only moments when you could sleep a little. But the relief and the little bit of peace that you felt when you were unconscious left you behind as soon as you opened your eyes again in real life...

"Y/N, if you feel better tomorrow, let's organize a commemoration for Aiden.", Maggie informed you. She was bent on her knees, looking at you and gently stroking your face.

Your only answer was a faint nod. Maggie sighed, got up and left you alone. It was meant to be a symbolic funeral because Glenn and the others were unable to recover the body of Aiden. Maggie helped you get up off the couch, freshen up and dress. She accompanied you to the small cemetery near the walls, where the names of some missing persons had already been added to this steel monument. The people of Alexandria were gathered around the cross, which was planted on an empty pit. You were surrounded by your family, from whom you sensed that the worried look was directed at you everywhere. But your attention was on the other side of you. You watched as Deanna collapsed on the ground. The expression of this strong woman was full of pain, awakened by the cross of Aiden. The thought of how much he had contributed during those months to make Alexandria even safer made your heart tremble.
Next to Spencer was Nicholas. If your eyes could kill him, that bastard would have fallen to the ground right now. He met your grim look and immediately looked down, like the cowardly worm he was. You stared again at Aiden's cross, while Father Gabriel's sermon was the only sound of that silence. You were touched by the faint idea of ​​saying something to Deanna and explaining that you were sorry, but you did not have the strength. How could you comfort her? When the funeral ended, you went home in the midst of Maggie's weak protests. When you entered, you did not even take off your shoes. You ignored Maggie who had escorted you and dragged you up the stairs, slipped under the covers and closed your eyes. She tried to persuade you to come down, eat something, stay in company with your family, but you did not want to know about it. It was not hard to imagine why she was so worried about you and why she did not want to leave you alone. She was afraid you would fall back into a catatonic state that you had when you first arrived in the Prison. Well... She was wrong...

The pangs of conscience were so overwhelming that you would never have found the strength: It would have been disrespectful to Aiden, who had died because of you. It would have been too easy to give up everything and seal yourself off from this pain. You knew in your mind that sooner or later you could get up to shake off this apathy to see your pain and regret. But it was too early to react at all. Lying in the dark under the blanket filled you with relief. There you could pretend that you could not stand all this, you did not have to admit how much guilt you felt, you did not have to get up and face the fearful look of those who loved you. You could work out this situation in your own way or at least try it.

The hours began to stretch... At some point you went down to drink a glass of water and found the kitchen immersed in the cold dusk of the sunset. The room was deserted and silent: Maggie was gone and you were relieved. There was no point in staying there and you wanted to be alone anyway.
So you took a bottle of water with you, forced yourself to wear something comfortable and buried yourself under the blanket again, lost in the oblivion of your mind. You fell asleep several times, but your sleep was disturbed by a nightmare of Aiden consumed in various ways by the living dead. When you were not sleeping, you kept your eyes fixed on an indeterminate point or locked them without resting. Many hours later, just before she entered your room, Maggie knocked on the door and gently asked you if you wanted to have breakfast. You opened your eyes and stared at her...

"Hey, Y/N...", she called and sat down on the edge of the mattress where you huddled and did not answer. She sighed: "Y/N, talk to me, don't keep everything up, I'm here, for you, we're all here for you.", she murmured, looking at you with a look of sadness.

You looked at her without moving even a centimeter. You struggled in every way to find the strength to speak: Not to tell her how you felt, but simply to assure her that she did not have to worry... But you couldn't. You did not feel able to speak, but maybe you could still find a way to answer so that she would understand you. With your eyes still bound to hers, you nodded. Her lips twisted into a slight smile and her eyes were filled with relief. She patted you and looked at you silently for a few moments.

"Y/N, you... It's not like in the Prison, is it?", she asked, trying not to sound too scared. Your gaze, without being able to control it, ran to your wrists resting on the pillow: You watched the scars that had remained as you fought Joe and his people to survive. You shook your head and continued to stare at the lines that marked your skin.

"Do you want me to stay, if you need me?"

Your shook your head again. "If you want to talk about it, you know where to find me.", she reminded you gently, getting up and moving away from you. Maggie opened the door and looked at you for a few moments before finally leaving. You hoped she would really respect your will and leave you alone. You did not need anything else. You had to understand how to overcome this void that you felt again and how to live with guilt. The pain you carried was immense, but you could not even get rid of it with a scream or a harsh reaction that finally linked you to the outside world. In that sense, what you went through was like the apathy you had tied up with the Claimers. But this time you had other reasons to survive... You would get up and defend your home to honor his memory. You just had to figure out how to do it. How to stop blaming you for his death and how to cope with pain. You managed to sleep a few hours in the afternoon, went to the bathroom, and drank some water to get some fluids. It was easier to do certain things when nobody looked at you. You still did not feel ready to face your family, you did not want everyone to focus on you. You did not feel ready to share your pain with them. But you felt freer in the intimacy and loneliness of your home. It also made you overcome the cold completely. Another day passed before the light in front of the window had no room for the melancholy colors of the evening...

You had just gone to bed after eating some dried fruits that you kept in the kitchen when you heard sounds from below. Someone knocked... Whoever it was, you hoped he stopped and walked away. As you started to think about who it might be, you felt the door open and close again. You usually shut it off, but this was just a matter of mind. Maybe Maggie, passing for some reason, had seen you in the kitchen. Maybe she thought you feel better if you had the strength to get up and eat. Nobody came to your mind. You felt a kind of anger that attracted you from the inside and thought of the possibility that she had not considered what you had told her. You did not want to talk, because you weren't better: What the hell did this person do in your house?

You heard footsteps coming up the stairs... This sound was so painful in the darkness of your room that for a second you were overwhelmed by the fear that it might be someone with bad intentions. You grabbed the knife that lay beside your food and rested on your bedside table. You took it and hid it under the pillow, driven by an irrational fear. When you heard a knock on the door of your room, you calmed down: If he had been an aggressor, he would have entered without hesitation. You sighed in relief before the feeling of annoyance returned.

"Damn it, fuck off Maggie!", you blurted in a voice that did not even sound like yours. All the time in silence, your vocal cords had tired. The sound coming from your lips was weak and slightly hoarse. Nevertheless, you did not receive an answer. You only noticed the beam of light coming from the doorway and had just lit the shadows in your room. Shortly afterwards the darkness returned and you heard the door close softly. You lifted your head from the pillow to stretch your neck out over the ceiling and to make sure Maggie was gone. However, you even recognized these features in the dark and you had a heavy emotion in your heart: Daryl watched you silently and stood beside the door he had just closed.

"'S me.", he answered softly and said the obvious now. You put your head back on the pillow and pulled up the blanket. Suddenly panic overcame you: What was he doing here? You did not want him to see you under those conditions, look at you, talk to you. You were ashamed too much. You were the weak woman again... The way he had always seen you; And you did not want to give him any further proof... It would have been a humiliation to show you in that state. But you heard his footsteps circling around your bed and felt his presence next to you, though there was this one blanket that separated you from Daryl and the outside world like a barrier.

"Y/N.", he shouted in a firm and serious voice. "Look at me, Y/N.", he said and you heard him pull the blanket over your head.

"Fuck you.", you muttered, squeezing your chin against your chest and covering your face with your hands as he laid the blanket over your shoulders, the emptiness inside you so great that you could not even see that Daryl had returned from his trip with Aaron and that he was fine.

"Go away, Daryl.", you whispered, without any strength and your face still hidden between your fingers.

"Forget it, ya' parasite.", he answered a little louder.

Maybe he hoped to arouse your anger by calling you that. He thought he would make you react, but in the end it was as if he had not opened his mouth. Maybe you could do the same with him. If you had infuriated him, he would probably have gone and left you alone...

You frowned, found his face and tried to sharpen your eyes as best you could. "Dixon, you know what? Shut up your damn mouth! Piss off and leave me the hell alone!", you said weakly, looking at him. Daryl did not turn a blind eye, nor did he disappear. He had sat at your height, his back against the wall behind you, one knee up to support his arm and face. He continued to stare at you with his illegible eyes that could also be noticed in the darkness. You expected him to get angry, insult you ​​or go, but he did nothing. His eyes piercing your eyes scared you to death. He broke every barrier between you and the others, making you vulnerable. Still, you just could not look away.

"Go away, Daryl, please just go away..."

This time, a request came from your lips. You felt a knot close your throat and your eyes, still frozen, got wet. It immediately opened a pain in your chest, expanding into each of your cells, dispelling the void and making you feel everything. And that's because Daryl took care of you.

"Daryl...", you tried again, but his name stuck in your throat and turned into a desperate sob. He put a hand on the mattress and slowly took your hand. You jumped up and looked first at your clasped hands, then at him. He was there, with you. For you. That was the consciousness that made you collapse. Like a thousand other times, you felt safe in his presence. Protected. You could finally cry, face the pain, fight remorse and mostly only when he was by your side. The abyss you fell into... You finally saw it: It was there, a few paces away from you, but Daryl's firm hand came near you to keep you from falling.

You curled up even more, clinging to his hand and pressing your forehead against your tangle of hands. You burst into tears, with a sob that caused another pain in your chest. It was equally distressing and liberating when you finally burned the tears on your cheeks and moistened the pillow, the shock shook your cells, the suffering slipped out of you in part and was less. Daryl had saved you again... It was unbelievable that you had not been able to open up to Maggie or Michonne, as sweet and motherly as they were, but you did it with Daryl, who was certainly no master of this kind of tactics. Maybe it was his firmness that gave you the strength to finally set yourself free. He did not say a word, just kept your hand and did not loosen his grip. This situation had completely overwhelmed you: You cried until you were exhausted, still lying on Daryl's hand. With your chest, free of the torment, you managed to sleep deeply. You woke up a few hours later lying on your back. After the first fog, you opened your eyes and sat up alarmed. You looked around and found yourself in the stifling darkness of your room. You looked at your hand, which was free of Daryl's grip. He was no longer by your side, sitting on the floor next to your bed. Confused, you looked at the window: It was still dark outside. As you looked closer, you noticed that it was open. You wondered how you could not realize it before, when the cold night air came in... You shuddered, got up, went to the window and saw Daryl's silhouette, well arranged in one part of the room and immediately felt relieved: He still wasn't gone.

Before he realized you had woken up, you decided to go to the bathroom to refresh your face. You were surrounded by the silence of the night and, despite the situation, you were quieter with Daryl than before. You cleared your throat, hoping it would not be too loud. "What are you doing?", you asked in a whisper so as not to ruin the atmosphere as Daryl suddenly stood behind you and climbed out onto the roof. He did not answer at first, nor did he turn around even though he had heard you. He just stared at the emptiness in front of him as you waited anxiously for him to focus his attention on you. To be honest, you were intimidated to meet his gaze, now that you were clearer: He had seen you collapse and you had held your hands for a long time... You did not know what he thought of this whole story and the idea of ​​finding it out intimidated you. He slowly turned to you and shrugged. "Was sittin' on yer fuckin' floor with my ass for several hours...", he answered with a slight smile and you could not help it, which surprised you and also smiled spontaneously. It was sincere, unexpected and did not necessarily have to reassure the person you were talking to. You felt your heart quickening its rhythm, more and more surprised by what Daryl could do to you without realizing it. Carefully, you climbed over the sill and crept slowly beside him.

"Go in when yer cold.", Daryl scolded, still looking at an undefined point.

"No, I'm fine.", you reassured him.

You sat in silence for a while in the dark and cool night. Daryl smoked his cigarette and threw it down on the ground with a quick movement of his hand. You remained silent, head down, lost in thought. For the first time, you could think of something other than your guilt. You wondered why Daryl had stayed and did not just leave when he realized you had fallen asleep. You wanted to ask him, but you did not want to argue that made him feel uncomfortable. Whatever his motivation was, you knew that you would hardly be aware of it. The most surprising thing was the incredible and sudden need to talk to him about how you felt. A strange tingling ran down your arms and hands as you felt a strange feeling inside you. You could not keep silent, otherwise you would have collapsed. In addition, you felt compelled to justify your recent behavior.

"It was my fault.", you confessed in a whisper and without realizing it, you came closer to him. Meanwhile, your shoulders touched.

You felt him turn to you and look at you. "What?", Daryl asked softly.

"Aiden."

"Don't say that.", he answered.

"It's the truth.", you protested wearily.

"No, it ain't. Glenn told me the truth: It's all the bastard's fault.", he replied, referring to Nicholas.

"Nicholas took my place.", you answered with more energy and turned to face him. "Aiden would still be alive if Nicholas had not taken part in this expedition, but me."

Daryl looked at you for a moment with his serious and unfathomable countenance. "Doesn't make sense.", he finally said.

You remained silent without answering immediately. You looked at his profile and felt stupid because you feared his reaction to your collapse. Daryl was not distinguished by delicacy, but he was not as insensitive as he wanted to believe. You thought about his words: Although they might seem like a premature conclusion, you realized that it was not. With cold minds, you also realized that you could go on to face anything he had told you, but it would not have been useful. The reality was there and didn't remove what happened. Whoever was to blame, Aiden is still dead.

"I know.", you nodded after a while. "I know, I can not blame myself for getting sick, I know that if Nicholas had not been a coward, it probably wouldn't have happened, I know that Aiden did his duty, like all of us, I know that he, like us, knew the risks involved in leaving the community, I know all these things, but-...", you interrupted, your throat tightening painfully and your eyes filling with tears. "...-yet I can not stop thinking that if I were in his place, he could still be alive."

The words came out in a whisper while a tear ran down your cheek. You looked down to hide from Daryl, quickly dried the tear and lifted your knees to your chest.

"Y/N, it worked the way it should, don't break yerself by blamin' yerself for somethin' that ain't yer fault.", he said in a soft tone that you had never heard before, since he was Aiden not particularly liked, but accepted... You raised your face and met his eyes as if they were looking for a way to hold you so as not to let you down. You lost yourself in his eyes, the fears and the pain dissolved. Often Daryl and you were physically far away, but with no other person, even if it was not family, you had ever felt so close.

When a new sob shook your chest, you just leaned over to him and put your head in the crook of his shoulder. Immediately you felt him stiffen as you stroked the skin of his neck with your forehead. You just had to feel him near you and you did not care that you did not use too many words or loving gestures. Tears kept running down your cheeks, but it was a quieter, serene pain than before. You were no longer overwhelmed with grief, but you were aware of what had happened to the person for whom you had shed those tears. You finally made room for suffering, accepted it and made it part of you again. As before...

"Are you cold?", you whispered in a confused attempt to offer him a part of your blanket.

"No.", he replied, but his voice seemed hoarse and his breathing more irregular than normal.

"Me neither...", you said, before putting your face back on his neck.

You wanted to stop time and stay like that forever, at that moment, just you both and away from it all. If you had the courage, you would have put your lips on his skin, you would have spoken openly, you would have asked him why he had stayed with you. You would have asked him what feelings hid behind so many of his gestures that you did not clearly understand, but right now it was fine the way it is. You wanted to wait to be clearer if you ever wanted to deal with the topic that you were always trying to avoid. You would have put the cards back on the table...

Daryl's embrace was so warm and inviting that at a certain point you appealed despite the unfavorable temperature. When he noticed it, he barely shook you and told you to go to sleep. Slightly sleepy, you walked away from him and rubbed your eyes, careful to keep your balance on the roof. He helped you to climb over the windowsill and went back to your room. You closed the window and saw him standing in the shallow light of your room and you felt that you should say something, but you could not find the words and you could not understand why. As much as you wanted to thank him, no sound came out of your mouth. You just limited yourself to supporting his gaze.

"I'll go.", Daryl said, interrupting the silence.

You felt your heart beating faster and an oppressive feeling of emptiness in your stomach: No, you did not want him to go away. If he does that, the nightmares would take over again, and guilt would keep you from sleeping again. You promised yourself that this would be the last night of apathy: You would have finally gotten up with the new day, but you would have needed it by you side to make it. It was a completely irrational thought, you knew it, but you could not help it.

"No!", you blurted out and immediately felt embarrassed by his perplexed look. So you took a deep breath and tried to control the crazy strokes of your heart. "Stay with me...", you whispered.

"Y/N...", he tried to protest.

"Please, just for tonight.", you whispered, forcing you to keep his eyes. You remained silent and only had your eyes to communicate. After a short while, which seemed endless, Daryl sighed heavily. You don't know what he read in your expression, but it convinced him. He murmured something, walked past you, and returned to where he had been sitting all those hours, on the floor beside your bed. You looked at him and stopped motionless.

"What's it now?", he asked impatiently.

You swallowed before you had the courage to speak. "It makes you uncomfortable to sit there..."

"Yer the one who wants me 'ere.", he said in a hostile manner, stretching his legs and crossing his arms over his chest.

"I don't want you sitting on the floor...", you hesitated.

"Decide at last!", he answered.

"You can sleep in bed with me...", you interrupted with a breath. You could not believe that you had really suggested it to him. Even Daryl couldn't understand the look on his face: He looked at you wide-eyed and with stiff shoulders. Despite the dim light, you noticed that he was cramping.

"Ya' didn' seriously suggest that, did ya'?", he asked harshly.

You frowned. "Why, what's wrong with that?", you replied, confused.

"Can't sleep by yer side."

You crossed your arms over your chest and were easily irritated. "We slept side by side when we escaped from the Prison.", you reminded him.

"Ain't the same.", he contradicted, his expression unreadable. He was nervous, almost embarrassed and he could not really hide it. His body spoke for him, his eyes were not necessary to understand him. You thought that behind his refusal was the same motive that had driven him to stay with you, hold your hand, come back to you, but that had the opposite effect.
Daryl felt so unwell at the thought of sleeping by your side. Maybe because he could not stand you, but in that case he would not have bothered to come home to support you or stay at all. He took care of you...

"Please, Daryl...", you tried again and softened your tone. "All I need is for you to stay until I fall asleep, then you can go.", you explained.

He grunted and looked up: "Should've left when ya' asked me.", he mumbled, trying to straighten his neck. You noticed a big smile on your lips and your heart quickened. He would stay with you... A little embarrassed, you approached the edge of the bed, where you usually slept, sat down and threw the blanket at the end of the bed. You avoided looking at Daryl as he took off his boots and threw himself on the mattress without grace. You lay down under the covers, lay on your back and stared upwards. You then looked at him briefly and noticed that his back rested against the headboard.

"When you feel cold...", you started, but he interrupted you.

"Sleep.", he commanded, crossing his arms over his chest, leaning his head against the headboard, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. You felt a weird rush from head to toe and the feelings you felt towards him and you could not have faked anything for a long time, especially because a small part of you was convinced that Daryl knew it, but that he would try in every way to avoid the subject... He had his eyes closed and you watched his profile, the line of his chin, the fringe of his hair that covered his eyes, the muscles of his arms that poked out, you held your breath and tried to move without looking back as you approached him. When you were sure he was still closing his eyelids, you came even closer, you waited a few seconds to find the courage and ignored your heart, rolled against Daryl and dipped your face into his side.

"Y/N...", he warned you, but with less energy than before. You said nothing, just closed your eyes and ignored his protest. Surprisingly, he did not insist, nor did he leave you. He stayed calm and you wanted to see the expression on his face but did not want to move you one centimeter either. With the warmth of Daryl around you, you soon relaxed and fell asleep.

Beside your eyes, which opened in the early morning light, and for the first time in days, there was no sense of tightness in the chest, the first thing you felt and noticed was the heat from him beside you. His arm, which offered protection, was gently wrapped around your back.

Daryl wasn't gone.