Reggie Greene and Daryl Dixon met in a club a couple of months before the apocalypse started. For Daryl, being around Reggie was complicated. He grew up around all different kinds of hatred, homophobia being one of the largest ones. With his family...
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Sometimes, when life got really bad, reggie would try and escape to a place that was better than where he was. when he was a boy, he would always escape to space. not actual space or anything, but a box in his bedroom, with all of his lights turned off and the glow in the dark stars on his roof, including the paper mache planets that dangled from the roof, hung up by thin pieces of string. the box was a simple parcel box that reggie had coloured on, making it look like a rocket ship. he would place it on top of his bed, and sit there. he would close his eyes, and enter a world that was so much better than earth. he would talk to the aliens, and wear his favourite astronaut pyjamas, pretending that it was an actual suit. he would sit in there for hours. nobody could get him out of it, not until he wanted to get out. half of reggie's dinners as a child were reheated in the microwave, because he wouldn't stop for dinner.
he wished he could do that again. it was what he needed. he felt like he needed to go to space again, even though it probably wouldn't work now that he was grown. if he even attempted to sit in a cardboard box now, it would probably snap, and he had just about outgrown the pyjamas fourteen years ago. he compared his zoning out to that. he didn't have the capability to make it fun anymore, so instead he would just block it without all the fun stuff. he wasn't in space. he wasn't talking to aliens. he was just there, but he was unresponsive. aware, but unresponsive. he would have much preferred to be in space, though. or, he would've loved to be able to process his trauma like a normal human being, but he just couldn't do it, and it sucked. he knew he would be so much better if he could just process it properly, but he couldn't. his brain had it's own way of working. it was like it wasn't even connected.
they were all outside of woodbury now, apparently the governor made daryl fight his own brother, before they found reggie in the room, and merle had left woodbury to be with daryl. reggie didn't want merle in the group, but he also had no way of telling anybody that. he was just leaned up against a tree, listening to all of them fight and argue about merle. reggie had a headache, he didn't want to listen. he wanted to be by himself, but maggie wouldn't let him out of her sight. any time he walked anywhere, she followed right after him. if she couldn't get to him in time, she sent glenn after him. around ten minutes ago, he went to pee, and maggie instantly sent glenn over to wait with him. it made him feel like he was five years old. on the bright side, michonne had gotten him his sword back, so he didn't feel completely unsafe and helpless.
"get that thing outta my face!" daryl yelled at glenn, as glenn held a gun up to daryl, because of the way he was standing up for merle. glenn and michonne were not happy to see him there.
"man, looks like you've gone native, little brother." merle said, as a laugh escaped his lips. reggie wished he could just kill him. it was taking everything in him not to join the 'kill merle' club.
"no more than you hangin' out with that psycho rapist out there!" daryl argued back. at those words, reggie shut his eyes, and tried not to think too hard on the situation again.
