This day couldn’t get any worse, but it seemed like that was the case. Whether supplies were always running low, or Daryl couldn’t hunt because something kept scaring off his prey, his day was going to shit. You would think having your company, company that he was familiar with and though he’d never admit it, actually liked having, would help him stay sane. It didn’t.

Right now, you and Daryl volunteered to go on a supply run. Any supply run that any of the group members went on didn’t have an immediate guarantee that loads of supplies would be brought back. Sometimes, people came back with little to nothing at all. Though, you and Daryl tried to remain hopeful. maybe you’d get lucky. That did happen sometimes.

Those hopes were crushed pretty damn quickly though. Sure, you two had managed to find maybe a box of bandages and a few cans of food, but more was always appreciated— perhaps more like always needed, especially with a good amount of people back at Alexandria. You were a little more relaxed and tried to keep some hope in your heart that you would find more supplies. However, Daryl wasn’t having it. Any built up anger or other emotions he kept hidden inside of him started to come out. He wasn’t necessarily upset with you, more so upset that you two couldn’t find anything.

And real upset at the fact that times were even like this. This damn apocalypse. Sometimes he thought about giving up. Sure, he was skilled and was able to keep going, but this new life was taking a toll on him. As you two strolled through different buildings, he came across a couple of leftover bottles filled with booze. Against his better judgement, he’d drown himself with these drinks. You had no choice but to just.. let him be. Any time you tried stopping him, maybe snatching the bottle away from his hand, he’d shove you a little and take the bottle back and say with a rude growl and strong southern accent:

“Keep yer damn hands off a’me.”

Right now, you two were walking down an abandoned road, heading to whatever building you could find next. The sun was setting in the background, causing the sky to appear a bright mix of orange and yellow. It was almost time to head back to Alexandria, but Daryl insisted on staying out a little longer, to find more supplies. While you two could handle yourself, he wasn’t thinking straight. The man was filled with booze and anger, even holding a half-filled beer bottle in his hand. He wasn’t walking in a straight line, appearing drunk. He mumbled to himself, words you couldn’t quite hear, but they sounded like curses.

One thing you knew about him, he’d drown himself with alcohol to bury his emotions, to clear his mind that was constantly filled with anger, pain, and defeat. You hated seeing him like this, but every time you tried to sit down and talk to him, he’d shut you down so damn fast and keep drinking.

Two things that never worked well together were indeed booze and anger. Enough was enough. You couldn’t watch him do this anymore. It hurt your heart too damn much.