Chasing Amy (Daryl Dixon/The Walking Dead)

Chapter 61 - Misunderstood

A few hours later and night had fallen.

The woman hadn't made a noise from the cell beside me, even while Hershel had been stitching her up -- which was impressive to say the least.

I'd listened to Axel and Oscar, the two men from outside, as they humbly thanked Rick and Carol...

They were to sleep in the cells above us, meaning Daryl could no longer sleep beside the stairs, something I was sure he wasn't going to be happy about.

If T-Dog was here, I'd know he'd be glad that someone had finally listened to what he had had to say... which probably wouldn't have happened if it weren't for his passing.

I'd listened as Rick explained the situation to Carol, who then opted to help Hershel with cleaning up after tending to the woman's wound.

I'd listened as Daryl returned, late in the evening, furious that those men had been allowed back inside, and then furious again that the woman who sat inside that cell beside me had no intention of telling us where Glenn and Maggie were.

I listened, but I didn't move.

Even after Hershel had bandaged her up, cleaned the blood from her skin, and spoke kindly to her of his daughter, the woman refused to speak another word, which ripped Rick to shreds as he angrily locked her cell door without another word.

I sat on my bed, staring at the chair Glenn had sat in when I woke to see him reading.

Our group felt empty without him.

Or at least, that's how it felt to me.

After winter, the attitude in the group had changed. Nobody wanted to talk unless they had to, and even then it was about what we needed, how everyone was feeling, and how much food was left.

Glenn and I often shared short conversations, but behind the emptiness in our stomachs was a hollow feeling of hopelessness.

Rick had sent us both off to watch by the house, so we sat on the veranda with our legs under the railings, stomachs grumbling, eyes tired.

"Why are we always stuck with the shitty jobs?" Glenn had asked aloud, breaking the hungry silence.

"Nobody gets us." I'd agreed, kicking my legs out from under the fence. "We're the heroes of our own story."

"So misunderstood," Glenn nodded, a smile playing at his lips.

"I'm like Spider-Man... And you're, uh, you're..."

"I'm clearly Spider-Man." Glenn played along, looking back at me. "Y'know, I'm actually a man."

"What has genitals got to do with anything?" I snorted, "I could beat you at webbing around any day, I don't even need a penis."

Glenn squeezed his eyes shut, "I'm gonna pretend you didn't just say that."

"Fine then. You can be Spider-Man." I shook my head, "I guess I'm just a Mary-Jane Watson, anyway."

"I'd say you've got a bit of a green rage monster inside of you, Amy." Glenn looked ahead at the sky, "You've kicked Rick's ass, Daryl's ass, Lori's ass... Asses everywhere, and you've kicked them all."

"I mean, I still want to be Spider-Man..." I grinned across at him, gripping onto the wooden railing beside my head, "Daryl could be Wolverine, right? He's got the 'tude."

"Which issues are we going from?" Glenn furrowed his brows, looking back at me, "And what comics? Classic Avengers? Individuals? X-Men's?"

"Best of Avengers." I nodded shortly, "Definitely Avengers... They were my favourites."