—Emotions can only be bottled for so long before they fizz and explode to the surface with a painful overflow, destroying any lasting sanity in their path. A breakdown on the hunters part has been long overdue and when it finally hits, it hits hard. Collecting himself at this point is like attempting to grab smoke from the air, drifting uselessly through his fingers. Laying motionless on the concrete seemed to be his only option now, that is until the sun that had once been burning behind his lids disappeared. Immediately his eyes snap open to gaze upon a shadowy figure standing above him, pure instinct overtakes logic and he doesn’t even hesitate to sit up from the ground and send a harsh kick flying into the sure to be walkers abdomen with an exasperated grunt.
Like a cornered and wounded animal, Daryl pushes himself frantically away from his attacker. Sticky and bloodied hands slip uselessly against the heavy weight of his bow as he attempts to retrieve it from the ground next to him. Only he stops, squinting against his tears towards the figure in front of him. It’s not a walker….it’s Rick.
Daryl’s entire body tenses and trembles, brows furrowing with a pained disbelief. Oh but in a split second, his posture slouches in utter defeat while his gaze drops to the ground. He remembers when Rick went through a time of seeing things that didn’t exist, he never thought it would be possible to happen to himself. Oh but clearly it has because Rick is d e a d . That he’s sure of. The good don’t survive in this world and his close friend had been nothing but good.
“—Ya’ ain’t real.” The man sputters, as if trying to convince himself.
The Officer hit the ground with a thud. He is dazed for a while, trying to focus on his whereabouts and what is happening in this very m o m e n t. The severe pain he felt in his ribs days ago returns, it’s unbearable but somehow he forces himself through it. He winces, hisses in pain and his hands are soon rubbing the area, hoping the pain will pass soon. He wants to stand, but he can barely sit up. The hunter doesn’t bother to help him up, doesn’t even say anything when he realises that it’s Rick. For a while, he is curious as to what happened to him, what did he experience away from the prison that caused him to be like this. He hopes to see someone else approach, someone appear out of the trees. It’s not until he watches the broken expression on his features that he realises the redneck is a l o n e.
Rick lies on his back, staring into the eyes of the man he had grown to defend, to care dearly for. As he stares into the hunters orbs, he realises he is not the same man he had been when he had lived peacefully in the prison, he is not the Daryl Dixon Rick had once had the pleasure of knowing. He holds the same look that Rick once had when Lori had died - like all hope is gone.
It doesn’t take long before Rick realises Daryl believes he is hallucinating. That he is experiencing what the officer had experienced when Lori had died. He fights back at the pain and pushes himself off of the ground and on to his feet. He staggers towards the hunter, knowing he’ll have to prove that he is real. When Rick hallucinated Lori, not once did she speak, she never uttered a single word, never reassured him that she was real - Daryl was sure to know that Rick was r e a l. He placed a hand on the males shoulder and gently squeezed, mainly to make him feel his touch.
❝ I’m real, Daryl. I’m here. This isn’t some kind of hallucination. ❞
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