I underestimated the fallout the night at the gas station would have on my relationship with Daryl. I hadn't expected flowers and candy, I wasn't delusion (most days), but at the same time the precision with which he cut me out of his life was swift and exacting.

At first I hoped he simply needed distance to process what happened between us so I gave it to him. I accepted that when I walked into a room he would inevitably find a reason to leave. I learned to live with the fact we no longer occupied the same sleeping space at night. I let his harsh, insulting words bounce off me without comment on the rare occasions he took the time to address me directly.

It wasn't easy, but I endured it because I incorrectly assumed it was only temporary. That eventually whatever was plaguing him about that night would work itself out and things would go back to normal, that we would go back to normal. Normal for us anyway. What I learned in the past four days was that assumptions were dangerous things. My truth and his were dining at different dinner tables. Hell, they were at entirely different restaurants.

What added insult to very serious injury was his withdrawal was confined to just me. He still strategized with Rick, took lighthearted jabs at Glenn, and offered a comforting presence for Carol when she needed it. Physically there was never much distance between us, sometimes only feet when the group was forced to hole up in rooms only slightly larger than the closet the two of us were once stuffed in, but there was a chasm between us all the same. A deep, gaping hole I was unable to comprehend much less bridge.

On the nights when he did sleep he made an art form out of finding the corner furthest away from me and curling into it in an effort to put more distance between us. I hadn't realized how much I missed him being next to me until he was gone. Didn't know how I longed to hear his voice until he was silent. Sometimes, in the middle of the night, I swore could still feel him, lying beside me, holding me close. The fact my mind was imagining his presence like a phantom limb  was as humiliating as it was infuriating.

Somehow in the span of a few seconds everything we built unraveled and reduced us to virtual strangers, and I had no idea how to fix it. What's worse I wasn't sure I wanted to. I was by no means an expert in relationships, but I knew regret when I saw it. He may not have spoken any civil words to me in days, but his actions screamed exactly how he felt.

Disgust.

Mistake.

It hurt more than it should have given it was only one kiss, but I was fresh out of time machines so there was no going back. So instead, I found a way to move forward. I dealt with the rejection the only way I knew how. The further he pushed me the further I retreated. I was good at pulling away, both physically and emotionally. Rejection teaches you how to reject, and I majored in that particular subject in my youth.

I wasn't my mother. I didn't believe the lies women told themselves in an effort to justify men who treated them poorly. If life had taught me anything it was if someone treated you like they didn't care it was because they didn't. There were no exceptions. No fairy tale endings. Life may be cold and brutal but it held nothing on love. Love was a cancer that metastasized until it infected all your vital organs, killing you slowly from the inside. I had no intentions of dying that particular death.

Sometimes the only way to heal a wound was to stop touching it.

Unfortunately it was impossible to pull away from Daryl without also pulling away from the group as a whole. He was too intertwined in the very fabric of our dynamic to single out. There was simply no way to cut around him without also cutting through the ties that held the others. It killed me to see the hurt look on their faces as I rebuffed their efforts to help, but I'd do anything to ease the ache in my chest and the only thing that seemed to help was distance.

Nights were the worst, left alone to analyze every detail of that night in excruciating detail. I was been certain he felt the same, felt the heat between us when he touched me. How could you kiss someone like that, pour your soul into them, and not feel something? But as time passed the details seemed to blur and I was left doubting if any of it was real. The events got twisted in my jumbled mind until I couldn't tell fact from fiction.

In order to keep my sanity and studiously avoid any thoughts of that night I kept busy. I took every watch available, careful to avoid Daryl at all costs. If he was on watch I made sure to take an opposite rotation or if that was impossible place myself as far away from him as possible. I ate my meals in solitude, when I ate at all. I never slept, even when I wasn't on watch, instead opting to find a secluded spot somewhere where I could let the emotions wash over me in relative privacy.

It was doing wonders to help me forget mainly because my brain was running on autopilot due to sleep deprivation, but it was wreaking havoc on my body. I hadn't slept more than a few hours at a time for almost four days, but the side effects were a small price to pay for my sanity. I felt a piece of myself die every time I saw him smile at Carl, talk to Beth, or share a meal with Rick and Hershel so for everyone's sake I stayed away. I wasn't in a good place, mentally or emotionally, and me losing it wouldn't be good for anyone.

So here I was, outside, sitting against the wall of a small restaurant we were currently calling home for the night. It wasn't my turn for watch, but I relieved T-Dog nonetheless much to his vocal disapproval, all of which I absorbed in numb silence. I had no intention of waking Glenn when it was his turn in a few hours. Rick was wasting his time coming up with watch lists every day. I was going to set some kind of record worthy of the Guinness Book of World Records if I kept this up.

Sitting there I scanned the road, my mind cycling back to the prospect of leaving. It had been a long time since I felt the uneasiness inside me, the need to get as far away from the group as I could, but now that it was back I couldn't seem to shake it. I survived on my own before, knew what to expect out there, but I'd been with this group for so long I questioned whether I could still make it out there by myself. They made me soft, vulnerable, and I hated it.

I felt more broken now than when I was kidnapped and beaten within an inch of my life, and I berated myself for allowing these people to get close to me. I didn't know how to fix it, how to make the hurt go away without falling back into my old routine, running. I wasn't sure distance would erase the hurt, but it was worth a shot. Anything was better than this. They say time heals all wounds, but I was still waiting, and something told me I would be for some time, especially if I stayed. Running was the coward's way out, I knew that, but it was easy and I needed something easy right now. Facing my problems and working through them seemed insurmountable. Ignoring the issues may not make them go away, but it sure made them easier to deal with.

The sound of the door opening made me glance to my left, observing Glenn as he made his way over. I sighed, turning back towards the road as I adjusted the rifle on my lap, keeping my lips sealed. He sat down beside me even though everything in my body language screamed go away. He didn't speak at first, just sat next to me in silence and that annoyed me even more. It was a testament to how conflicted I truly was, I didn't want to talk to him, but I didn't want him to sit in silence either.

"I'll take watch," he finally said and I ground my teeth together.

"I'm good."

He sighed, but didn't move. "You haven't slept in days." I didn't have anything to say to that so I just kept quiet, looking everywhere but at him. "And you've hardly eaten."

I understood he was trying to help, that this was coming from a good place, but I couldn't find it in me to care. Glenn worried about everyone. He was one of the most caring individuals I'd ever met, but right now that caring only served to irritate me. So I kept ignoring him.

"You're doing it again." When I didn't respond he continued, "You're pulling away. You have the same look in your eye you had in the beginning. When you used to run away every chance you got." Dragging my teeth over my lips I tightened the grip on my rifle. "What happened?" He didn't need to specify, we both knew what he meant.

"Nothing." Lie.

"Alex, I'm not stupid, something happened. Ever since that night things have changed. You've changed. Daryl's changed."

That wasn't entirely true. Daryl had only changed when it came to me with everyone else he was exactly the same. Which sucked donkey balls.

I was surprised when everyone didn't know the intimate details of exactly what happened outside Bob's Stop N Shop, but Carol had shocked me with her discretion. Either she hadn't told a soul what she saw or they were all incredible actors.

It was obvious Glenn wasn't leaving without something so I crafted a story, made the details fit the picture I wanted him to see. It wasn't to protect Daryl. I could give two fucks what he wanted kept private. It was purely self-serving. Telling anyone what happened and then having them witness the aftermath would be too much humiliation to bear.

"Daryl disagreed with what I did." Not a complete lie.

"Saving Maggie and Beth?"

I sighed, "Not with me saving them per say, how I did it."

"He was just worried about..."

I cut him off, "No, he wasn't. He made that clear. He doesn't agree with my methods. Thinks I'm a danger to the group. That's all it is."

"I don't believe that," he said.

"Believe whatever you want." The bite in my voice made him flinch and I instantly regretted it. As much as I wanted to cut these people off, to stifle my churning feelings, the thought of hurting them made me sick.

"Are you going to leave?" He phrased it like a question, but his tone made it sound like a statement. Glenn was observant, attuned to everyone in the group. I wasn't surprised he sniffed out my intent. It was what made him such a good scavenger, but like all his other questions I refused to answer. "That would be a mistake Alex. You can't make it without people anymore, and we are your people. We all need each other. We need you." He paused, letting his words sink in, but I let them bounce off me just like Daryl's insults. "Whatever happened will blow over. Please...whatever you're thinking just...remember that you're family."

He didn't say anything else, but he didn't leave so I kept ignoring him, choking on the emotions swirling inside me. I had serious issues, and one of them was how bad I needed this group. Leaving would not be easy. I wasn't sure it was even possible. Maybe Glenn was right and this would blow over, whatever that meant. Daryl was only one person and I could avoid him just as well if not better than he could avoid me, but I wasn't able to ignore the way my heart sped up when he walked by or how my hands twitched with a need to touch him when he was close.

It was late, well past midnight and my eyes stung every time I blinked, my weariness growing with each passing minute. I shifted constantly in an effort to stay awake, and all the while Glenn sat there, silent as the night. At some point hours later I blinked, my head resting against the wall and they didn't open again despite my best efforts.

I told myself I'd only rest for a few minutes, that was all I needed, but my body had other ideas because when I opened them again the sun was peeking over the tree line. I jolted, looking around wildly only to see Glenn still sitting right next to me, a sad smile on his face, the cold morning air making every exhale from his mouth come out in a puff of white of smoke. I was freezing, my nose running and hands stiff as I flexed them in an effort to get my blood pumping. I pulled my beanie lower, covering my ears as I tucked my hands under my armpits trying to warm them up. The front door opened, Rick stepping out and glancing towards us. He pulled the collar of his jacket higher in an effort to combat the cold before stuffing his hands in his pockets.

"You two stay out here all night?"

"Yeah," Glenn answered.

I stayed silent, averting my eyes as I stood up slowly, my joints protesting, loudly. Rick's eyes swept passed Glenn and settled on me, his lips pursed in aggravation, but he said nothing. He tried reaching out to me several times in the last few days with the same result, nothing.

"We're going on a run. We leave in ten."

He turned swiftly, going back inside as Glenn glanced back at me. I knew what he was going to suggest even before he did and to avoid it I brushed passed him, snagging my pack off the ground and throwing it on as I made my way towards the cars.

I watched Glenn slip back inside, probably to grab his stuff and some food. The thought made my stomach rumble in discomfort, but I ignored it, leaning against the car with my head down as I waited. Exactly ten minutes later Rick, Glenn, Maggie and T-Dog exited the restaurant, striding towards the car. Before I could breathe a sigh of relief at the personnel chosen for the run I heard a rumble from behind the restaurant.

Shoving my hands deep in my jacket, I kept my head low as Daryl rode his bike alongside the car. Rick unlocked the doors and I slipped in, ignoring whatever instructions were being delivered as the group stood outside. Sliding into the middle seat I groaned, having to sit bitch sucked, especially considering my heights and the size of this clown car, but it was the only option. In the past I would have ridden with Daryl, but I'd sooner give myself a papercut on my cornea than go anywhere near him.

The ride couldn't have been more than 20 minutes, but squished between T-Dog and Glenn, my legs practically under my chin in an effort to fit, it felt more like hours. Which was really bad because their body heat combined with the heater being on full blast made it almost impossible to stay awake. My head pitching forward several times, almost colliding with my knees before the motion jolted me back into consciousness as I snapped my head back. Rick's eyes flicked to mine in the rearview, narrowed in concern and I almost slapped myself in the face in order to stay awake. I knew that look, that was the 'you're about to get benched' look. I slipped my hand underneath my jacket sleeve, pinching my forearm to the point of pain, anything to stay awake and off his radar.

Maybe not sleeping for the better part of four days was a bad idea.

Rick pulled the car to the side of the road outside town and we all filled out, Daryl parking his bike behind us. Everyone circled around Rick, but I hung back, close enough to hear him, but far enough away I was separated from the group. T-Dog shook his head, anger written across his normally carefree face as he glanced at me. He might be madder at me than Daryl right now.

Unable to stand disappointing him I looked away, shifting my weight from foot-to-foot as Rick outlined the plan of attack. It was all standard data so I hardly listened. Split up into teams of two, check your assigned areas, be quiet, be careful, meet back here when you were done. It was always the same, except for one glaring difference this time around.

"Glenn and Maggie, you take the south side. T-Dog and I will take the north, and Daryl and Alex you've got the west. We've checked the east side and there's nothing there so leave it be, just a waste of time," Rick explained.

I froze, sure my sleep addled brain misheard him. Did he say Alex and Daryl? Surely he meant Alex and T? As I watched the pairs break away, heading toward their respective grids I knew I heard him just fine because the only person left standing next to the car once everyone dispersed was the one person I didn't want to be in the same zip code as. Hell, at this point I would volunteer for a ride to another planet to put more distance between us.

He didn't say anything, just kept standing there, and curiosity got the better of me as my eyes shifted to his. He was looking directly at me with a carefully blank expression that made me want to pummel his gorgeous face. I narrowed my eyes at him, my jaw snapping shut as I turned swiftly heading towards our objective. I pulled two knives from my waist as I walked forward, eyes scanning the streets for walkers.

"Where's yur baton?"

It had been so long since he said anything to me that wasn't laced with venom my steps faltered and I glanced back at him. His eyes were thoughtful as he scanned me, looking for the weapon he'd once given me as a gift. He'd be searching until the rapture because I didn't have it anymore. I gave it to Beth days ago, telling her she needed a weapon to protect herself. The baton was the perfect solution as it provided her a means of defense with the least chance of endangering herself or others if she had occasion to use it. It wasn't the smartest move. The baton was a valuable weapon, and I loved it, but I had the irrational need to purge myself of anything that reminded me of the man behind me. So I parted with the baton, maybe at the expense of my own life.

Without offering him an answer I turned around, continuing towards the small clothing store directly ahead of us. I could practically hear Daryl's annoyance as we made our way to the door. I pounded on the glass, waiting and watching the interior of the store. A small group of walkers stumbled forward, slamming into the glass when they saw us, clawing as they tried to get out.

Daryl stepped back and I pulled open the door, the walkers staggering onto the sidewalk. An arrow whizzed past my head into the skull of the first walker and then I attacked, plunging my knife into the temple of another. Pulling it out quickly I spun, stabbing another through the chin before delivering a roundhouse kick to one that got too close. It went down hard, but before I could stab it another arrow impaled itself in her eye. I looked over my shoulder, exhaling sharply as I pulled the arrow out, tossing it to him without a word, continuing into the store.

"Red." I halted, keeping my back to him as I bit my lip so hard I was probably drawing blood. I used to love that nickname, the way it rolled off his tongue, but now it made me angry. "Will ya look at me?"

It sounded like he was pleading with me. Something that soundly oddly like compassion laced in his tone, but that couldn't be right. I was hearing things, exhaustion playing tricks on me again. Daryl was incapable of something like that. I knew that for a fact. Besides, this was his doing, and I'd be damned if five words undid days of torment.

"Stop."

It was ironic, me using his words against him. How many times had I joked with him, laughed with him, only for him to say the exact same thing? The difference now was my tone held none of the affection his once had.

"We have a job to do."

"Alex..." he tried again using my real name.

"I have nothing to say to you Daryl. Let's go."

He followed me inside without further commented and I couldn't decide if I was happy or disappointed.

I didn't want him to chase me, but I longed for him to pull me closer.

I didn't want to talk to him, but I couldn't stand his silence.

I was a walking Shakespearean play. Sad, complicated, and fucking confusing.

We encountered a few more walkers, but between the two of us it was almost boring. I killed the one's closest to me and he did the same. I tried to ignore the fact that I kept a close eye on him, ready just in case he needed help. He may not want anything to do with me, but I didn't want him dead. We clearly weren't friends anymore, if we ever were, but he was a part of this group so I would protect him with my life if necessary. It was an instinct I couldn't bury no matter how hard I tried. I told myself it wasn't for me, that I didn't care one way or the other, but it was lie I could never really buy into.

He mattered to me.

The distance between us was excruciating.

The silence was killing me.

With the walkers dispatched we scavenged the store for anything useful which wasn't much. This place was small to begin with and it had been ransacked in the past, but I was able to find a few things that might work for Hershel, Beth and Lori. Stuffing the items in my pack I made my way outside, leaning against the store window as I waited for Daryl. I was twirling a knife in my left hand to pass the time when he came out a few minutes later, his pack full. Wordlessly I pushed off the wall, making my way back towards the car.

I had only taken a few steps when a group of walkers came out of nowhere. One minute the street was deserted and the next there were everywhere, hobbling towards us with vicious snarls of hunger. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Daryl immediately raise his crossbow, taking aim and letting an arrow fly, but I couldn't move, my mind reeling at the sight before me. One of walkers, a young woman wearing tattered blue yoga pants and a matching striped racerback tank top was moving towards me. The knives in my hands that had only moments ago been poised to attack dropped to my side in shock.

It couldn't be.

I shook my head. Squeezing my eyes closed briefly hoping it would clear my vision, but it did nothing to erase the impossible sight before me. I could still see her. She was still coming towards me. I fought to remain standing, my legs trembling as I watched a ghost from my past.

I thought I heard Daryl yelling, fighting his way to me as he let arrow after arrow fly, but I didn't move, my eyes locked on the walker that was the spitting image of my baby sister, Haley.

She looked...fresh for lack of a better word. About as human as a walker could look given they were dead. She wasn't missing pieces of flesh or appendages, her clothes were relatively clean and intact, and her hair was still attached to her head. All-in-all she could have won America's Next Top Model – Walker Edition with how "good" she looked.

It was the clothes that threw me. They were an exact replica of what my sister was wearing the last time I saw her, the day she died. A choked sob punched out of my lungs as I fought to reconcile what I was seeing with what I knew to be true, but if I'd learned anything the past few days it was that I couldn't trust my own mind. She couldn't be here. She was dead. I sobbed over her body, a gun in my hand, trying to gather the courage to put a bullet in her brain. It had taken me hours, but as the first hints of reanimation began I pulled the trigger.

Didn't I?

The memory, like most these days, was fuzzy, my brain slow to comprehend, my heart stalling as the pain in my chest expanded. I put my hands out in front of me like it would somehow block out the memory and the approaching walker, but it was no use. She was still there, and all I could see was my sister. Her hair and eyes the spitting image of the father I hated. We didn't have many features in common, but our bodies were almost identical. Tall, athletic, and slender. Devoid of the curviness men coveted in women.

"Haley," I rasped, voice breaking as I backed peddled clumsily.

I was acutely aware I might be losing my mind, my grip on reality slipping through my fingers like sand through an hour glass. It wasn't possible for her to be here, but she was all the same.

"Red!"

My thoughts were so tangled I couldn't place the voice, but the shout had sounded almost desperate. I couldn't remember where I was or what I was supposed to do. I could hardly remember how to breathe. I could only watch in morbid fascination while she slowly came closer.

My tenuous grip on reality snapped when I realized I was actually happy at the possibility. Even if she was a walker and was going to kill me, she was here, and that meant I wasn't alone anymore. My knives dropped to the ground in a clatter, eyes filled with tears as she lunged for me. Out of pure instinct I put my arms up, stopping her attack, but she was strong and I was weak in more ways than one. I already killed her twice. I couldn't do it again. All at once her struggling ceased, an arrowhead sticking out of the side of her skull.

"No!"

I looked up, shaking violently, unable to track the blur moving towards me. I dropped to the ground, hovering over Haley, tears streaming down my face. I heard someone yelling, screaming for someone to do something, and it took me a minute to realize the sounds were coming from me. Strong hands latched onto my arms dragging me away from the dead walker, but that wasn't what I wanted. I wanted to be with my sister.

A switch inside me suddenly flipped and in an instant I felt myself change. It was a shift I once found comforting, but hadn't let overtake me since the turn. Fury rolled through me, my blood boiling in my veins as I grabbed onto one of the hands holding me, pulling a pair of fingers back hard. A strangled yelp sounded from the man right before his grip faltered. I rounded on him, throwing a left hook he barely avoided by jumping back, putting distance between us. His lips were moving, hands up in a placating gestures, but I heard none of it. The cacophony of noise swirling in my ears was deafening, numbing my senses. I was crazed, unhinged, and completely unable to stop myself.

His lips pressed into a thin line, a look of sadness passing briefly over his face when he realized I wasn't backing down. I snarled, swinging my left foot forward in a front kick. He lunged to the side, lessening the blow to his shoulder, but it knocked him off balance. I didn't wait from him to recover as I kept attacking. Throwing another punch, he ducked, taking another step back, his face full of regret as he tried to keep distance between us, and I realized he wasn't fighting back, simply playing defense. It pissed me off even more and I let loose another barrage of punches and kicks, but I was drained, tiring much too fast, and he easily parried my moves, countering only to defend himself. When I threw the world's sloppiest left hook he caught it easily, spinning me around, my back to his chest, pinning my arms.

"Stop it!" he hissed in my ear.

I stiffened in his hold, the deep, southern, twang registering on some primal level, cutting through the violent mist clouding my sight. The change was so sudden, so glaringly different from what I was just experiencing I lurched to the side at the disorientation, the arms wrapped around me the only thing keeping me upright. Then, everything that had only moments ago been blurry and unrecognizable was suddenly crystal clear. It was like watching regular TV only to suddenly switch to High Definition.

Swallowing hard I glanced around at the town, the memory of what we were doing, who I was with, hammering in my brain like dive bombers. I knew Daryl was the one holding me, knew his voice, his smell, the feel of his body against mine better than I knew my own. Rick, Glenn, Maggie and T-Dog were standing a few feet away, varying degrees of concern etched onto their faces, but the wariness was the only thing I could see. They were scared, of me.

The smell of walkers caught my nose and I looked to the ground. They were lying all around, but the one closest to me held my attention. I stepped forward tentatively and Daryl released me, staying a step behind me as I inched closer, peering down. My eyebrows furrowed as I scanned her from head to toe, shaking my head in confusion. The features I was so sure were the spitting image of my sister only a few minutes ago now looked nothing like her. That wasn't her nose, her mouth or her hair. I would know her anywhere, alive or dead, and this wasn't her.

It was the clothes I thought as I looked them over again. They were exactly like hers. I'd been to enough psychologists to know that in my need to conjure up a dead woman my mind filled in the blanks with what I wanted to see. I was so alone, so utterly isolated, I fabricated a way to fill the void inside me with what I wanted so badly to be true. Licking my lips I wrapped my arms around myself in an effort to hold myself together, too many emotions waring for supremacy within me.

Shame.

Guilt.

Embarrassment.

My eyes darted around nervously, but I couldn't meet anyone's gaze head on. My humiliation so heavy I was surprised I could stand under its weight. I thought I knew about humiliation after that night, but I was wrong. That was nothing compared to this. The only thing I was absolutely certain of at the moment was I had to get out of here, now. I knew the chaos whirling inside of me would subside, but I couldn't do that with an audience. I just needed somewhere that wasn't here.

Before I knew it I was running, dashing quickly across the street and into the woods before anyone could even call out for me. I was sleep deprived and starving, but I was still fast, my arms and legs pumping and burning with effort as they carried me away. I didn't know where I was going as I flew through the woods, branches and twigs snagging on my clothes and scrapping my arms and face as I twisted and turned in no particular direction. The further I ran the faster the memories seemed to disappear from my mind so I kept going.

Squirrels and birds scattered in my wake as I pushed faster, further into the woods. My heart was pounding from exertion, but I didn't stop, not even when I couldn't breathe. I was so focused on escaping, literally running from my fears, I never heard the heavy pounding of footsteps behind me. The whispers and taunts in my mind far too loud to be drowned out by something so innocuous.

For the second time in less than ten minutes a pair of arms circled me, pulling me to the ground as I crashed down, a body falling with me. My knees impacted the ground painfully, but I felt a hand cup the back of my head, protecting me as we rolled before coming to a stop.

I was shaking like an addict in withdrawal, my joints aching, my face wet with tears as I looked up into Daryl's devastatingly blue eyes. He was perched over the top of me, our limbs tangled, his arms keeping me securely in place.

"Get off me," I demanded, pushing against his chest with no result. He was bigger, stronger, and was keeping me pinned. I was trapped and it petrified me. I started to panic, pushing harder. My eyes zipping left and right as I tried to find an escape. "Daryl...please, let me up...I won't run."

The terror in my voice had him moving so fast I couldn't track it. In an instant he was off me, sitting a few feet away, arms draped over his knees as he panted hard. He was sweating, his shirt plastered to his chest even though it was freezing out, and I vaguely wondered how long he was chasing me for him to be so sweaty given the temperature. I wasn't sure what to say, wasn't sure he even deserved an explanation given our current relationship or lack thereof, so I said nothing. Pulling myself into a sitting position I inspected the scrapes on my hands and arms with unwarranted attentiveness. They were nothing, not even worthy of the Marvel Band-Aids I found for Carl that were stashed in his bag.

"Ya a'right?" It was such an absurd question I couldn't' help the hysterical laugh that bubbled up.

Did I look alright?

Would someone who was alright think there already twice dead sister had suddenly come to life for a third go-round?

Was it alright to go all Fight Club on someone from your group?

"Red..."

"Stop," I bit out, using his favorite word again, holding my hand up, a warning in my eyes. We were not doing this. He may not understand the damage he inflicted, but he did it nonetheless, and now he thought we were gonna sit around and chat? My grandmother used to tell me to forgive and forget. I was never been able to do it as a child and nothing much had changed since then. I was neither Jesus nor did I have Alzheimer's so it wasn't happening.

Standing up I looked around, trying to get my bearings. Where the hell was I? I wasn't sure which direction I came or how to get back, but maybe that wasn't such a bad thing.  With any luck by the time I got back everyone may have contracted a particularly nasty bout of amnesia and forgotten everything they saw today. A girl could hope.

"Haley," he whispered, stopping me cold.

"Careful with your next words."

"Ya kept sayin' her name. That walker, ya thought it was yur sister?" I sent him a withering glare, dragging my tongue over my teeth in annoyance. I was screaming her name? Jesus, could this day get any worse? "Was it her?"

You'd think my silence would be screaming loud and clear that I didn't want to talk about it, but Daryl was like a dog with a bone sometimes.

"No," I hissed, offering nothing more on the subject. Not for the first time I regretted sharing that part of myself with him. Knowledge was power and I gave him a loaded gun he was now pointing at my head.

Brushing myself off I started in the direction I hoped was correct, but Daryl reached out, grabbing my hand. I was so shocked at his brazenness I just stared at his hand in amazement. He either had balls the size of boulders or was mentally impaired. I sent him a calculated look, making sure there was no misunderstanding between us. It was important he fully grasp the situation.

"Daryl, I'm only going to say this once, then I'm going to start breaking bones." I paused, eyebrows raised, letting my words sink in. "Don't touch me."

He lost that privilege when he'd cast me aside. He let go, but not as quickly as I would have liked. He did it like it pained him, like he was actually considering holding on and fighting it out. Shaking my head at him I turned back around, striding off into the woods, my temper fuming.

"Never meant to hurt ya."

His voice was so soft, so quiet I almost didn't hear it, and I was positive I must have misheard him. I stiffened, stopping mid-step, my fists clenched at my sides. I didn't turn around, knew if I did I'd fall apart, again. I just waited, my breathing shallow as my mind raced with all the things I wanted to hear and all the things I didn't. I wasn't the forgiving kind, never had been, but these past few days had been some of the worst I could remember and that was saying something. He said he never meant to hurt me, but did it matter? He still had.

"I ain't..." I could hear him shuffling behind me, could almost hear the gears in the gears in his brain turning he was thinking so hard. "I ain't good at this." I snorted. Tell me something I didn't know. He cracked his knuckles and even though I wasn't looking at him I knew he was biting him thumbnail. "I never...I don't...with you...I just..." I rolled my eyes in exasperation. At this rate we would both be 100 before he finished a sentence. Turning around I looked at him, hands on my hips.

"Land the plane Daryl." When he didn't say anything I sighed heavily. "You can't have it both ways. You don't get to feel something one minute and take it back the next. It isn't right. It isn't fair. I'm not a goddamn Yo-Yo."

"I fucked up."

"No, fucking up is forgetting someone's birthday or letting their plant die when they're out of town. What you did was worse. I trusted you and you hurt me." I swallowed hard. I didn't want to admit that, didn't want to show the vulnerability, but this man was my kryptonite. "I'm a big girl. I can accept that you don't feel that way about me. I'm sorry I misread the situation. It won't happen again." He opened his mouth to speak, but I put my hand up, silencing him. I had to get this out, once and for all. "I can handle a lot, I can make my piece with just being your friend, but I can't handle being discarded like I'm worthless. I can't...I can't take being left behind. Everyone in my life always leaves, one way or another, and I won't allow someone else in...let them get close to me only to have them disappear."

I could feel the tears pooling in my eyes, but I held them back, taking a deep breath to steady myself. I couldn't read the look on his face and that made me uneasy. My eyes shifted to the ground and my voice was small as I continued.

"If you don't want to be friends either that's fine too. We can just be part of the same group. I'll give you space, we can avoid each other. We'll talk to Rick, figure something out. But please, stop treating me like I don't matter. Hostility I can make peace with, it's the indifference I can't take. The way you look at me...like you wish I wasn't here." I had to stop and take a measured breath before continuing, "My dad looked at me like that up until the day he died, and I can't...please don't look at me like that."

I exhaled slowly when I was done, centering myself after the admission. I wasn't religious by a long shot, but I imagine that was what confession felt like. I was unsteady on my feet, feeling more drained from my declaration than everything that had happened today.

"I don't wanna be yur friend," he stated after a moment, his voice clear and without an ounce of doubt.

In my life I had been shot multiple times, stabbed more times than was reasonable, strangled, and even declared clinically dead for three minutes at one point, but none of that even came close to the pain those six little words inflicted. It felt like someone took a sledgehammer to my heart and then set it on fire just to make sure the job was done. I knew Daryl was blunt, but man I would have given my left tit for some sugar coating on that one.

Nodding jerkily I sniffled, keeping my eyes downcast as I swiveled around. Suck it up Alex. You told the man you could handle it so put on your big girl panties and handle it. The problem was I may have been lying. I was prepared for him to say he didn't want to stick his tongue in my mouth, but I was not expecting him to completely pull away and end our friendship. It hurt, bad. A hurt so deep and absolute I wasn't sure I'd ever recover.

What was wrong with me?

People had drifted in and out of my life since I could remember, but no one had ever caused pain like this before. Not even my good for nothing father. My feet shuffled forward of their own accord, and I found I didn't care if I was going the right direction anymore.

"That ain't enough for me." My feet stopped, my body frozen, and my heart...my heart was pounding a mile-a-minute. "Look at me," he pleaded.

Licking my lips I turned around, my eyes drifting to his face. He looked pale, like he might be sick at any moment, and I wanted to laugh. The two of us made quite a dysfunctional pair.

"I don't know what tha hell I'm doin'," he admitted, running his hands through his dirty hair. "Never wanted a woman more than a night, if that."

My face scrunched up. I could have lived without knowing that. I had the irrational need to ask for their names and social security numbers so I could hunt them down and beat the shit out of them. Which was ridiculous on so many levels. Not to mention a tad impractical in today's world.

"I don't know how to do this." His hands gestured back and forth between us. "I ain't a good man. I'm nobody, nothing, but with you...I wanna be different...better."

"I don't want you to be anything other than what you are," I admitted. "I wouldn't change anything about you." His eyes snapped to me, his brow furrowed like he couldn't believe what he was hearing, and I walked towards him. "Except when you wear shirts with sleeves, I would change that. The mojo and all," I added with a tentative smile.

In three huge strides he was in front of me, his eyes darting all over my face, his movements uncertain as he reached for my hand only to pull up just short. I smiled at him, grabbing his shirt and pulling him to me until there was no space between us.

"You are enough Daryl Dixon. Don't ever doubt that."

He wore a pained expression as he held my face in his hands, brushing his lips softly against mine as my eyes fluttered closed. It was brief, chaste, hardly the passionate make-out session we'd shared a few days ago, but somehow this felt more intimate, like a promise. The way he held me so gently, like I was precious made me feel cherished.

"M'sorry, I...." I cut him off with another kiss, his arms wrapping around my waist as we both tried to tell each other everything we struggled to do with words. When air became a priority we broke apart our foreheads touching.

"I know," I told him. I wasn't sure I really did, but I was willing to try. I was willing to give him another chance because deep down I knew what kind of man he was, even if he didn't.

He grinned, holding me close as whispered, "Ya ain't worthless. Yur everythin'." I pulled back slightly, holding his face in my hands, needing to make sure we cleared the air. That there was no misunderstanding going forward.

"If we do this...it's you and me, no matter what." I knew the kind of pressure I was putting on him and that it might be too much too soon, but I needed his assurance before I let him hold my heart in his hands again that he wouldn't break it. "You can't do this again. If it's too much or you start to freak out or whatever just talk to me, we'll figure it out, together. I can handle anything but silence."

"You and me," he promised, eyes pleading for the chance I'd already given him.

"Give me a secret...bring me a sign...give me a reason, to walk the fire...see another dawn, through a daughter's eyes...you give me a reason to walk the fire," I whispered, eyes closed as I uttered the phrase I hadn't said in a long time.

"What's that?"

"Something from another life." My voice shook at the confession. A confession I wasn't ready to tell him about in full, yet. "It is as close to praying as I've ever come and for the better part of my life it my reason to keep going, to do what needed to be done, but I don't need it anymore.

"Why?"

"Because my reason is you."

He sucked in a sharp breath, crushing me against his body in a bruising hug. "Don't deserve ya." I laughed, the irony of the situation not lost on me. Of the two of us I was the one the one lacking. He just didn't know it yet.

"I know you need time to...adjust and that's fine. I'm here, I'm not going anywhere. I even promise to try and only grope you in private." He pulled away at that, glaring at me, but the laughter in his eyes made it hard to take him seriously. "But I promise you, if you ever pull this shit again, if you ever leave, you better be prepared to lose a few teeth in the process."

He laughed, pressing a kiss against my forehead before wrapping his hand around mine and striding back towards the others. In the opposite direction I was heading mind you, fucking directions. I tried to squash the whispers in my head that told me to doubt his promises. Those were old fears born from past experiences some of which weren't even mine, but they were hard to ignore. My heart wanted badly to believe him, but the mind was a terrible place sometimes. It could twist and manipulate until you couldn't find your way out of the rabbit hole. I'd spent the better part of my life lost there, and it had lead me down a path I almost didn't come back from.

I didn't want to be that person anymore. I didn't want that life. I wanted more. I wanted him. Whatever that looked like. As he held my hand, confidently guiding me back to our family, I felt safe from all the things that hurt me.

Even if most of them were on the inside.

~ ~ ~

If you're out there reading this I would love to hear from you!