Unbreakable threads

Chapter Nineteen: refuge in the CDC

He cleared his throat, his voice low and gruff. "Why you sittin' here, girl?" he muttered, trying to keep his tone neutral.

Alyssa looked up, her eyes narrowing slightly as if she was weighing how much to tell him. "Because... everyone else already has someone," she said quietly, a hint of vulnerability slipping through. "I don't fit in with any of them, not really."

Daryl shifted in his seat, feeling a pang of sympathy he hadn't expected. He knew what it was like to feel like you didn't belong, to look around and see connections between others that you could never quite reach. But he still felt Rick's and Shane's gazes on him, that silent judgment, and it made him bristle.

"I ain't a good person to latch onto," he muttered, trying to keep his voice steady. "People... they don't see me as the kind you hang around with."

Alyssa shrugged, her expression softening. "Maybe I don't care what they think," she replied, her tone laced with quiet defiance.

Daryl huffed, both frustrated and oddly touched by her answer. He couldn't shake the feeling that she saw something in him no one else bothered to look for. And maybe that was what made everyone else so uneasy. They didn't see him as someone worth trusting, and here was this kid—a kid who barely knew him—sticking to him like he was safe.

He took a deep breath, finally looking up, meeting Rick's gaze across the table with a steady, unyielding look. He hadn't done anything wrong, and he wasn't about to let anyone make him feel like he had.

Daryl went back to eating, his resolve hardening. He'd look out for Alyssa if that's what she wanted, if that's what she needed. She might be a kid, but she was one of the few people who didn't see him as a bad light. And, for the first time, that small bond felt like something worth holding onto

Dr. Jenner had cracked open several bottles of wine, his own way of bringing a bit of levity to an otherwise bleak world. As the wine flowed, the tension in the room eased, each person taking a small sip of normalcy along with the alcohol. T-Dog and Glenn filled their glasses with grins, their laughter echoing softly as they toasted to surviving yet another day. Jacqui and Andrea sipped more carefully, appreciating the warmth but mindful not to lose themselves. Carol and Lori held their glasses with similar caution, exchanging small smiles over the rim as they savored the rare treat.

But Shane downed his glass quickly, his shoulders tense as he poured himself another, his eyes flickering with unspoken frustration. Across the room, Rick kept a careful eye on everyone, a faint smile playing on his lips as he watched his group enjoy this small slice of comfort. It was good to see them relaxed, if only for a moment, their burdens briefly lifted.

Daryl, of course, didn't bother with a glass. He grabbed a bottle straight from the table, taking a swig directly from it, a mischievous grin breaking through his usually stoic expression. "Boo ya," he said, raising the bottle in a mock toast before taking another long gulp, his rough, unpolished demeanor perfectly on brand.

Alyssa watched him with a quiet, almost fascinated intensity. She admired his confidence, his unapologetic nature. When he noticed her watching, he held the bottle out, offering it to her without hesitation. Her hand reached out instinctively, a hint of excitement flickering in her eyes, but as she wrapped her fingers around the bottle, she caught Shane's sharp, disapproving glare from across the table.

Shane's eyes narrowed, his expression hardening as he looked between Alyssa and Daryl. Alyssa was only seventeen, still young by their standards, and he made no attempt to hide his disapproval. Rick, too, shifted uncomfortably, his jaw clenched as he took in the scene. He didn't know what to say, didn't know how to stop her or if he even should. How was he supposed to parent a daughter he barely knew, a girl who'd already been through more than he could imagine?