The group was broken up. Someone needed to run each location filled with survivors. So, everyone had split up. Maggie ran Hilltop, Carol went to the Kingdom, Rick and Michonne stayed in Alexandria, and Daryl ran the Sanctuary with you. It felt lonely, even though the two of you had each other. You knew that Daryl had not forgotten about what had been done to him in that building either. The atmosphere was dark, filled with a sense of despair that the other camps didn't have.

Living among Saviors hadn't been easy to adjust to either. The memories of the war and everyone you'd lost was still fresh in your mind. It didn't feel right. Being the bigger person had been more difficult than you'd thought. But, you knew it was the right thing to do. Even if the Saviors had been bad people, they were still people. They were human beings worthy of a second chance.

That didn't make it easier.

Daryl'd been worse than usual lately. His temper was short, he seemed to be avoiding you, and you'd noticed that he always slipped out of bed whenever he thought that you'd fallen asleep. Eventually, you'd followed him. Curiosity and concern had outweighed logic. Asking him about it would have been the logical approach, even if getting the truth out of Daryl would be harder than getting some of the Saviors to comply.

Your late night snooping had led you to find him sitting out back on the docks, a lit cigarette in hand. The sight made your heart clench. Even if he claimed to be fine when you asked, he clearly wasn't. He needed out of here. But, you knew that he'd never leave you here alone. It would be too risky in his eyes. Your safety wasn't something he was willing to take chances on.

"You shouldn't be out this late," he grumbled, taking another puff of pungent smoke into his lungs before exhaling it. "M'fine, go back to bed," he added, refusing to look back at you.