Daryl replayed the scene over and over, moment by moment, in his head. You were there. Leah too. Léa was holding you hostage with her blade. Daryl stared at the scene, his eyes narrowed, catching your gaze full of fear and hope of being saved. Daryl hesitated, his finger on the trigger of his crossbow, aimed at his former lover. Léa noticed this. She took advantage of it. This moment will haunt Daryl for life. That moment when your gaze, both frightened and full of hope of being saved, widened in the face of pain and pure terror, confusion making your pretty eyes shine. You looked down in horror, lost and suffering, at the blade that went through your chest and came out, covered in blood. Of your blood, which fell drop after drop onto the ground. Your gaze, the blade that crossed your back and came out through your chest, your features twisted by pain, the blood that flowed, more and more abundant, all of this will haunt him for life. All because of hesitation. Then he shot Léa, who let go of you as she fell, making you fall too. He rushed to you and hugged you, tears in his eyes, as he repeated 'no' in despair. You died in his arms, in fear and pain. If only he hadn't hesitated. This moment haunted him. He felt like he saw you almost all the time. Sometimes in your dying form, sometimes in your normal form, when you were still well. He blamed himself, felt guilty, hated himself. He didn't even know if he was hallucinating when he saw you or if you really haunted him. He was wasting away because he blamed himself so much. He was there, on his couch, hands on his temples, replaying the scene. Until he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up, looked at you, you seemed so alive... He hugged you, without knowing that it was really your spirit that was there, and not just the sign of his mental decline. "I'm so sorry! I miss you every day! I shouldn't have..." Daryl cried, his arms clinging to you tightly, as if he was terrified of losing you a second time, his face against your shoulder.