A/N: So, this tidbit is supposed to be apart of a third installment of the other Walking Dead stories I had written, but I don't think I'll be finishing those. But I love this part of the story so much that I'm publishing it as a one shot :)
Obviously, by this point, Carol and I couldn't look at each other without being upset. Just making that clear before I recall past events.
Rumor had it that Carol wanted to learn to be a survivalist by Daryl, saying she wanted to become 'self-assuring'. Mmhmm. So, in return, I got to be trained by Shane, perfectly fair and amazingly shocking that I ever came up with it. The only problem: I see an unfair advantage.
Shane would be working me to the core and at the same time seducing me. Although Daryl wasn't the nicest person in the world, I wouldn't dream of him going that hard on Carol. And even if what they're actually doing is 'training', I guess it would still sorta be equal. Half the time, what Shane and I would be doing was not training, if you catch my drift.
Finally, Daryl admitted this wasn't a rumor.
"Okay," I said, throwing my hands in the air in defeat, "but if you get to train Carol, Shane gets to train me."
Daryl paused his annoyed huffing and looked at me suspiciously. I admired the way the rising sun shone on his dirty brown hair.
"How am I supposed to know this is actual training?" Daryl accusingly asked. I raised my eyebrows.
"I could ask you the same exact question," I snorted. Daryl pursed his lips angrily.
"Why do you want him to train you? I can't?" he asked, furrowing his eyebrows and setting off that Daryl vibe I always felt when he's hurt or mad and he wouldn't admit it. Obviously, he was trying to make excuses.
"Shane is more skilled than you are. I hate to say it, but it's the truth," I sighed, sorrowfully furring my brows as his raised hurtfully.
I started to get adamantly annoyed as we threw around the word train, because all of it was bullshit.
"Oh, yeah? I bet you didn't think that last night," he exclaimed loudly, making my face red. Not for the reason that everyone looked at us when he said it but the fact that he was right. Ever since he found out I was technically with Shane he stepped up his game. I mean REALLY stepped it up.
I'm honestly surprised he hadn't killed either me or Shane by then. I guess he thought of Shane as competition.
That makes me the prize. Fuck. That.
"What's going on?" Shane asked, walking up to our little proclaimed circle and looking at me primarily. I smiled, bugging Daryl even more.
"She's pissed because-"
"Remember when I asked if you could train me?" I interrupted Daryl, taking a step closer to Shane. I felt the need to place my hand on his peck admiringly but I feared Daryl would really try to kill us- or at least him, this time.
"Yes," Shane replied uneasily, glancing from Daryl to me. So far, he seemed pretty calm.
"We've made an agreement," I said, all smiles.
Daryl scoffed. "You made an agreement."
"Okay, I made the agreement and you agreed with it, is that better?"
Daryl rolled his eyes. "That doesn't even make sense."
I glanced at Daryl angrily and quickly returned my smile when I looked back at Shane.
"Uh, can I ask about the job description?" Shane hesitantly asked, shoving his hands deep into his pockets and rocking on the soles of his feet.
"Train me," I whispered suddenly, jerking towards his ear and eyeing Daryl. "Do whatever you want, but just train me."
I slowly backed away from his head, watching his eyes for a reaction. They read confusion.
"Fine," he said, then pointed a harsh finger in my face, "but just because you're a girl or in love with Daryl, it doesn't mean I'm going to go easy on you."
I swallowed hard and nodded slightly, looking back at Daryl when Shane walked away. He had his arms crossed over his chest angrily, until Carol dramatically paraded her way over to our happy shindig.
"Hi," she said, and I half expected butterflies to start circling around them. I rolled my eyes and looked for an escape route without looking like I was actually trying to escape.
Like a light switch, Daryl unfolded his arms and smiled calmly back at Carol.
"Hey," he casually answered, quickly glancing at me then back at Carol when she rested her hand on his chest like I wanted to do to Shane. I plainly gritted my teeth and walked to where Andrea was sitting.
"Someone's jealous," Andrea snickered, obviously picking up on my slouchy appearance.
"Bite my ass," I muttered, slamming myself down on the park bench we jacked from a local bus stop. Ghetto, yes. Convenient, yes. Comfy? Less than.
"At least you've got Shane to even the playing field, right?" she asked, sipping on a half broken swirly straw that lead into a cup of what looked like orange juice but was probably heavily laced with vodka.
"It feels different. We're both basically cheating on each other. I don't get why he hasn't given up on me yet," I sighed, resting my head on her shoulder and watching what looked like heavy flirting between them.
"He loves you," Andrea pointed out. "That's one reason."
"People love each other and break up all the time," I said, my pessimism making me slightly tired. Being grumpy really takes it out of you.
"Well go find Shane and show off or something," she snorted, waving her hand toward where Shane was standing with Rick. "You and Shane make a way better couple than Carol and Daryl."
I smirked in accordance and sat up straight, intently watching Shane watch them. I could practically see the light bulb flash above his head as he looked toward me then back at them again. I had bet it was similar to Andrea's plan.
"Oh, shit," she giggled, setting her wobbly wrist down. I took the opportunity and snatched her cup up, pushing the straw aside and slurping in a full mouthful. Yep, definitely vodka. "Here he comes. Hey-"
Shane took a seat next to me without a word. We all watched them talk in silence as if we were watching an episode of one of those shows that you watch just to pass the time. Daryl manically looked our way every few seconds, the intervals in between glances shortening as Shane put one hand over my shoulder and the other across my thigh.
"That's grossly weird," Shane grimaced, glancing at me.
"You think that's a little hypocritical?" Andrea asked. The tone circulating around us radiated a hilarious but serious state of eavesdropping. Not deeply obsessive at all.
"Thank you," I excessively sighed, pointing at them, "you understand why I can't do shit about this!"
"See, that's not true," Shane started, "you could counter react this. Sort of like revenge, but more self-righteous."
"Ohh, thanks," I sarcastically said, "yet another emotion to my day. Smug, right next to guilt and anger. That's great."
I stood and chugged the rest of Andrea's drink, handing her the empty red tumbler before walking away.
"Hey, wait!" Shane called, running after me and nudging my shoulder. I glanced at him but still kept my stride. "What's your plan?"
"Plan?" I asked, snorting. "I didn't know I had a plan."
"Well," he sighed, "I have an idea."
I sighed the same time he hopefully peered my way, looking for a reconnaissance in me that said, what is this magnificent plan you've delightfully concocted?
Instead, I shrugged uninterestedly and took a sharp turn left, avoiding the caricature group of birds flitting around Daryl and Carol.
"I'm gonna tell you anyway."
"I know," I sighed right after he spoke. He galloped ahead, obstructing my path to the Winnebago. I rolled my eyes, crossed my arms, and tapped my foot impatiently. Very characteristic of a mad/jealous Ayden.
"Okay, so obviously there's no certain place other than the woods that Daryl is going to take Carol to train, right?"
"Correct," I said between barred teeth. The thought of Daryl taking Carol somewhere alone placed an ominous tingle down my spine.
"So, right before they come back, we stage that we're in the middle of 'training'. Are you following?"
"And where's this enchanting event taking place?" I asked, my angry guard not relieving the slightest.
"By the pit, that empty area. It's the only way to get into the forest and the only remotely open space."
I paused and thought for a moment. This had a downside and an upside; the good part of this plan was to get back at Daryl, obviously. The bad part of it was that whole area was dusty with dirt and sand and I would be getting my brand new looted sweats dirty. I really didn't feel like having them smell like dirty pond water for the next three days.
"Fine," I groaned reluctantly, "I'll go see if I can squeeze any info out of Daryl on when they'll be back."
I took another eager left turn without a reply, heading toward where Daryl was getting his hunting gear ready. I strode over there like I didn't have a care in the world, hoping he'd notice my suave shake to the hips that I was hoping screamed 'I don't give a shit you're helping Carol'.
As I reached where he crouched down over his crossbow, my shadow casted over his whole figure, signaling my appearance. He lifted his head and smiled.
"What's up with you?" I demanded, not exactly what was supposed to spurt out of my mouth. His smile faltered as he stood, dusting the dirt off his jeans. Something about his straightforward happiness didn't shake me right. He was hiding something.
"What do ya mean?" he genuinely asked, acting as if nothing was going on between us. It made me want to smack him.
"You seem to not have a problem with… Shane," I stated suspiciously, eyeing him as a half smile returned.
"I just want you to spend his last days with him," Daryl said. He promptly bent down and slung his crossbow over his shoulder. My mouth dropped, my mind filling with questions even I couldn't organize by the time he smiled once more and nonchalantly walked past.
"Daryl," I yelled, pulling his shirt before he could get an arms length away. "What are you gonna do?"
"Me?" he smirked. "I'm going to do nothing. Absolutely nothing about it."
A hard lump formed in my throat and tears stung my eyes, threatening to fall. What does he mean, last days!?
"Are you gonna… kill Shane?" I mustered out, my voice cracking more severely than the San Andreas Fault. Daryl stared blankly as if I was supposed to answer my own question.
"It won't be me," he whispered. "It will be you."
My stomach clenched and my heart stopped beating. The world seemed to stop turning for a millisecond as I blinked rapidly, hot drops trickling down my cheeks and dripping off of my chin.
"But, I-I-" I stuttered, looking around at the campground. Everyone was chatting casually like usual. My eyesight lingered particularly on Shane, whose laugh caught me off guard.
Daryl tried to walk away, but my white knuckle clench on his shirt was too tight.
"What do you mean, Daryl?" I asked severely, my hand becoming tired as my grasp still held its strength.
"He'll double cross you, do not go anywhere with him alone, do you hear me?" he asked fiercely, suddenly becoming serious. He took an intense step forward, making our bodies touch lightly. His gaze beamed into my eyes, intent on whatever point he was trying to get across. I swallowed hard.
"How do you know this?" I whispered, the shaking in my voice turning into confounded sobs.
"He was talking about it, with Rick. Rick said if he ever pulled something like that, he'd kill him himself."
"Pull what?!" I bewilderedly shrieked. My grip loosened on his shirt as I struggled to keep my cool.
"He has a plan," Daryl whispered, eyeing Shane over his shoulder. He still spoke with Rick.
"What. Plan."
"He loves you, Ayden. I can't tell you anymore. Just please keep that in mind when he makes his move."
What the fuck was happening.
Daryl abruptly lunged forward and gave me a tense kiss that radiated sorrow. He pulled back slowly, admiring how close we were.
"He wouldn't," I muttered.
"You know Shane. He contemplated killing Rick and gave up looking for Sophia. He's ruthless. Don't let your love for him get in the way."
"But I don't love him," I said, my words trailing away before I could finish my sentence as I psychoanalyzed my thoughts.
Oh, god. I really did love Shane.
No. No, no, no.
I had pushed away the thought for weeks, telling myself it was just something I was imagining. The moment I glanced over at Shane after Daryl walked away, I realized how much he meant to me. But why would he want to kill me if he loved me? Why did he want to kill Rick? For different reasons than why he wanted to kill me, I was sure. For more than entirely different reasons.
I stood there for a good ten minutes, analyzing Shane's every last movement, every last way his mouth twitched when Rick said something less than agreeable. Every last way he looked over here when he said something, as if it was me he was talking about.
That's when I made the biggest mistake of my life.
"I figured we'd get a head start on my training," I explained to Shane when he asked why I wanted to start right then. I had paraded my way over there after feeling the slightest bit creepy about staring at him. I casually leaned my arm on the Winnebago, hoping my voice wasn't as shaky as it felt like. Shane didn't seem to pick up on it.
He grunted. "I thought this was just a show."
I shrugged. "I suppose I could get a few tips on close combat fighting in the process."
Shane nodded his head and surveyed the campgrounds. Carol and Daryl hadn't left yet.
"Uh, okay. How about we go in the forest? I know this really awesome clearing. It's kinda like a meadow, and I haven't seen any Walkers in that area yet."
My eyes widened slightly as Daryl's voice echoed in my head. Don't go anywhere with him alone. I faced the music and nodded, figuring now would be the best time. I was already on guard, and this couldn't fester in my head anymore let alone a few days. The quickly this was over, the quickly I could get over it.
"Sounds good," I said, double checking that my gun was in its holster.
My heart raced as each step took us towards where Shane was directing us to. The conversation was light; I was too afraid that my voice would give away any fear.
"I didn't think you'd want to do this now," he laughed, taking a step closer to me. It took all my willpower not to veer away.
I returned a subtly nervous laugh. "Neither did I."
Oh boy. Only if he understood the weight of those three words.
Or maybe he did. Instead of letting my mind wander off into more abstract thoughts, I repeated to myself that I should get this over with. The faster, the better.
I knew Shane was bad from the start.
"You seem pale, are you okay?" he asked. I did feel pale, contrary to the fact that my blood pressure had to have been off the charts. Daryl's piece of advice still haunted my mind. He loves you. Don't forget that when he makes his move.
"Y-yeah. Never better." I gave off a squeak that was meant to be a laugh but got stuck in my throat.
"Okay… well, here it is," he said uneasily, his arm gesturing to a clearing in the forest the size of a football field. In random places, little white flowers dotted the area. Other than the few gleams of sun, the flourishing grass was shaded with outlines of the freakishly bushy trees. It was sort of beautiful and distracted me for a mere second.
By my hand, he led me into the middle of the field, plopping down and setting me on his lap. I was incredibly tense as he moved a piece of stray hair that dangled in front of my face.
"What's wrong?" he asked finally, placing both hands on my hips as he caught on to my nervousness. In return, I placed both of my hands on his shoulders and buried my face into his chest.
"Daryl said you want to kill me," I straightforwardly put, choking back sobs as his right hand stroked my hair.
"I may be extremely jealous," he chuckled, "but I'm happy for you. As long as you're happy, I don't care who you're with."
I let a sob go, literally feeling the honest and caring tone he used. I shook my head and scowled before looking to the cloudless sky.
"He would lie about that?"
"I think he would, but I'm biased."
"How so?" I asked.
"Because I currently have his girl."
A choked laugh escaped my pursed lips, as I once again analyzed what I really felt. Deep down.
The results were severely disturbing.
"I love you, Shane," I admitted, my eyes creeping open as he stopped stroking my hair. He leaned back as a signal for me to lean back, and I obeyed. Shane stared into my eyes intently and cupped my chin.
"I love you, Ayden."
He released my chin, smiling as I wiped a bead of sweat that was formulating on the top of his forehead. While my hand was up there, I playfully tugged on a piece of his curly, brown, dirty hair. It reminded me of the time when Shane and I went hunting without Daryl once. It was a cute private escape and one of the first times we actually shared time together, just us two.
We sat silently, listening to the birds chirp and flutter through the trees around us.
Before our lips touched, someone called my name. It sounded like Daryl, but I dared not make that assumption. We both shared very giddy giggles and stood, Shane gallantly helping me up. We both made our way to the open path, me shaking my head the whole way. I couldn't believe I let Daryl scare me like-
Before I knew it, Shane's hands wrapped around my neck, the momentum of his lunge knocking us both to the ground. On our way down, I frantically scratched at his fingers, them not budging a bit. Then, I remembered I had my gun.
I was the fool, not Daryl. He was my true love, and for a few seconds, Shane had me convinced that I felt the need to abandon Daryl and stay with him. That ends today, right here.
I pulled my Beretta out of its holder and even before we hit the ground, I stuck it onto his chest. The second we impacted the dirt, I took in two sharp, incredibly forced inhales and pulled the trigger, tightly closing my eyes.
The shot echoed in the meadow, scaring even me, the one who was the second most skilled at weapons placing behind Shane.
It amazes me to this day that we actually didn't even hit the ground before I took the shot, pain searing through my index and middle finger as the gun crushed my fingers into my chest.
Shane's eyes briefly looked into mine, shock registering in both of us. He limply let go of my neck and rolled over.
I missed his heart by three millimeters.
"Shane," I squealed, instantly regretting what I had done. I just shot Shane. I just shot him.
Confusion struck me about what had just happened. It all felt too fast; too real. I almost believed I didn't actually shoot him until I twisted my head and quickly got on my knees, surveying the gushing wound that poured all over his chest and stained his grey colored police shirt. My hand forced over my mouth before my lunch could revisit.
I hovered over his convulsive body, blood freely dripping out of his mouth. I repulsively threw my Beretta across the field.
"I wasn't… kill you. Walker," he choked out, a shaky hand pointing to the now dead Walker that stood where I had been before getting knocked to the ground.
"Why did you try then?" I asked, tears flowing out of my eyes at the rate blood was flowing out of Shane's bullet wound.
"Didn't… mean to. Split… second."
Rick, who hacked the Walker with an axe, rushed over to where Shane's body lay, crouched right beside me, not saying a word.
"Fast reflexes," Shane weakly chuckled. He gave one last gut wrenching cough before going completely still, his mouth the last thing that moved. "I really do… love-"
Before Shane finished his sentence, his eyes glazed over, no longer looking at me but to the sky. A picturesque tear trailed down his cheek.
I didn't realize I was tightly gripping his hand until it went limp in mine.
"Shane," I whimpered, my free hand lifting up to trace his strong jaw line. There was no reply.
"He's gone," Rick whispered, the sniffle from his nose seeming distant.
I didn't know what to do. Have I ever thought of this moment, losing Shane? How was I to prepare for this?
I choked out a cry, bending down and quickly planting a kiss on his bloody mouth.
I had imagined us two being the last of our group, the only survivors left, ruling the world one death at a time. Travelling the states, never being in one place too long.
My unsure sobs violently turned into gags. Time passed by until the rest of the group joined us in the meadow.
"You… you killed him," Dale stated in unbelief, his wide eyes peering into my stinging ones. There were many people who raised guns to Shane, not including his time on the police force, and Dale was one of them. I hated for me to be the last one who did.
"Daryl. Daryl said…" I murmured, an unusual hate growing inside of me (that probably should've been reserved for Walkers) when Daryl daringly entered the area. I stood, my shaking legs barely having the courage to support my weight.
His smug smile made me want to avenge badly.
"What did Daryl say?" Rick asked, his policeman tenor becoming pronounced as he carefully stepped toward me. Andrea must've seen the blood lust flash in my eyes.
"No, no!" Andrea shouted the same time I yelled, "You bastard!"
She ran over to me, putting her chest against mine as I tried to claw my way to Daryl.
"You made me kill him!" I hysterically shrieked, my own voice sounding foreign. "You did this!"
Carol went up beside Daryl, a worried look spread across her face as she equally daringly slipped an arm around his waist. My mouth dropped open, inciting my need to charge past Andrea and rip Daryl's throat out.
I eventually pushed her aside, steadily walking towards Daryl and Carol.
"Why did you do that?" I seriously asked, crossing my hands to restrain myself from giving him a kindly hug to his neck. To both of their necks.
"Do what?" he laughed calmly, crossing his arms in a mocking manner. I could see a flash of something distant in his eyes, but I couldn't tell if it was sorrow or distain. I'd put my money on the latter, right now.
"I-" I huffed breathlessly, anger transforming my face into a shade of red brighter than Shane's blood on my shirt. "I can't believe you'd do that!"
"Why?" he sourly asked. "Did you love him?"
Carol stared at me like she was apart of this.
I swiftly punched him with my right hand in the chest, the pain vibrating through my two forefingers as the impact crushed them more.
I shrieked and immediately pulled back the same time Daryl took a shocked step backwards.
"Your hand is broken," he whispered unnecessarily, reaching out toward my hand that I wrapped around my black undershirt.
"Like you care," I snarled, giving them one last malicious glance before following Rick to the campgrounds. He was whispering words of assurance in my ear as he guided me towards the Winnebago. I was furious. No, beyond furious. Mixing emotions of fiery, grief, and betrayal, it all boiled up into a big hate machine.
I suddenly heaved, crouching down and supporting my weight on a tree as I emptied my stomachs contents on the tree's roots. This action seemed to clear my head a tad; I cried for a good few minutes before straightening myself out.
"You doin' okay?" Rick asked, extreme concern to replace his police attitude. I wiped my dampened and raw eyes from the last of the tears as I nodded, accepting Rick's hand to help me up.
"I can't believe he'd d-do such a th-th-thing," I wept, placing my hand on my sweating forehead. "I can't believe I… killed Shane."
"No," he uttered, shaking his head. "You did what you were led to believe was right. You can't blame yourself."
"I should've listened to Shane," I whimpered. "For once, I should've done what he told me!"
"We all coulda learned something from that man."
My eyes squinted against the breeze as a fresh batch of tears formed in my eyes. I nodded slightly, my nose flaring and my lips pursing as I let them go.
"I never knew you two were in love," Rick assumed softly, rubbing my back. He stopped his sentence then, obviously not wanted to dig anything that would make me more upset. Andrea stood close by, cautiously watching from afar. I glanced over at her and casted a weak smile, my version of an invitation.
I pushed the scraggly loose hairs out of my eyes, peering up at Andrea's crying face.
"Hey," she sniffled, crouching down beside me and placing her hand on my back like Rick did. I exhaled slowly and lowered myself to lean against the tree, spreading my legs out in front of me and being careful not to sit in the pile of puke. How I was positioned gave me a clear view of the meadow. Lori was hunched over Shane's dead body with her hands over her face. Carl stood next to Lori, his face warped into sorrow.
It was my fault Shane was dead. If I had listened to him instead of Daryl we'd both be alive right now. I may have been furious about him tackling my neck, but he'd still be alive. That's what mattered. And it was my fault.
Andrea wiped her eyes, smudging the light makeup she wore 24/7 across her cheekbones.
"I'm sorry," I croaked, coughing hoarsely and looking up to her for some sort of instruction. Response. Anything.
She wept, her eyebrows scrunching together in grief, leaning into me and cuddling me. Rick followed her lead and comfortably rested his head on my shoulder.
Should I have lashed out? Should I have been angry at Daryl, or Carol? Simply, instead of thinking about all the things I could've done, I continued to do what I was doing. I continued to cry into my hands, empty of all other emotion. There'd be a time to get mad at Daryl later.
My state of shock and disbelief came next. I was all out of energy to continue crying, the only thing I did was stare off into the distance. The more time went by, the more Andrea's expression became worried. Rick left with Lori after a few minutes past by, and I had just realized thunder was growing more and more pronounced. By the time I was lucid again, it was attempting to rain on the Alabama marshland.
"Hey," Andrea said, moving my cheek for some sort of reaction out of me that told her I was still alive. I slowly turned my head her way, my eyes empty. "Don't you go into a state of shock. I need you. We all do."
"Not Daryl," I whispered, the toneless expression in my voice worrying Andrea even further. "He doesn't care about me."
"Yes he does," Andrea chuckled humorlessly, "in some twisted, tormented way."
"Yeah, tricking me into killing someone I love is definitely a legitimate way of showing affection."
Andrea fell silent for a few moments, biting her lips as she gathered her thoughts. I looked up to her hopefully, sparking a delighted half smile out of her.
"She's alive," Andrea whispered, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. It reminded me of when Amy died, but I wasn't about to bring that up.
"I'm leaving," I said with a loud outburst, propelling myself upwards, the sudden movement making me dizzy and even more nauseous. Andrea shot up with me, steadying me by grabbing hold of my elbow.
"What do you mean, leaving?" Andrea panicked, tightening her grip on my arm so I couldn't go anywhere. I tugged uselessly on it; my energy was dwindling and I feared that I couldn't even stand for much longer. "You need to sleep, to recoup."
"Sleep?" I weakly chuckled. "Wish me luck sleeping ever again."
Andrea sighed, glancing back at the meadow. I dared not look back at the blood stained green grass left over from where Shane was. While I was zoning out, Dale and Rick took him. No doubt would we be having some sort of funeral.
Andrea guided me back to the camp, which I noticed wasn't even that far from where Shane took me. In fact, from the pit, I could distinctively see a slight clearing in the trees that I never noticed before in our two days spent there.
Everyone dispersed into their own ways. Most went into their tents or cars and cried or slept it out. A select few, namely Rick and T-Dog, started packing. Again, no doubt would we be leaving very soon.
Gingerly, Andrea placed me into her tent, a wise choice since Daryl and I shared one tent. I lifelessly plopped myself onto the air mattress and immediately laid down, too scared that if I made any other move something else would happen. A Walker attack. Somebody else getting shot. I soon felt guilt that convinced me I was the cause of everything bad happening.
Sleep came immediately.
I couldn't eat. I couldn't talk. Hell, my good days consisted of when I mustered enough courage or energy to peek my head out of the tent. I was in the constant care of Andrea, who made sure I at least tried to eat something. Life hadn't stopped since that day. Everyone gradually started talking to one another again, and many days went by until I heard someone laugh. We were constantly on the road, usually only camping out for one day, and many times, not even that.
Andrea no longer hitched a ride on the Winnebago. She and I took Shane's jeep, promising me when I didn't look suicidal she'd let me drive. The truth is, I no longer had enough energy to even think about killing myself, let alone trying. I would even go far enough to say that I was a burden to the group; what they needed most out of me no longer was given.
The only person I talked to was Andrea for the first few weeks. Lori and Glenn often came by my tent to say hi and to ask if I needed anything. My answer was always the same. "Hi, no thanks."
The first conversation between Daryl and I was intense and heavily supervised, and even though I didn't have any energy to kill myself, I could probably scrape the bottom of the gas tank to stab him in the face.
I still blamed him for a dead Shane.
"What do you want?" I asked, not needing to turn around to see who was trying to talk to me. The noise of his boots as he walked into the Winnebago and the clink of his crossbow gave him away.
"I was just, uh," he muttered, clearing his throat and sitting in the passenger seat. I turned my body around and stared at him impatiently.
"If it's important enough that you'd risk your life talking to me than hurry up."
Daryl opened his mouth to reply, but quickly shut it after. Andrea gave me a watch it glance as I stood, peacefully making my way to the drivers seat. I sat on it sideways, crossing my legs so they barely touched his.
I was already trying to hold down my calm as well as my hands, even though I swore to Andrea that I could keep my knife on me as long as I didn't try anything. Fat chance.
"I'm sorry," he finally said, sighing when at first I didn't give any sort of response.
"An apology won't bring Shane back, nor will it make me feel the slightest better."
"I didn't come in here to make you feel better," he lightly snarled, sighing when I raised my eyebrows to express indifference.
"Then what do you want?" I asked, frustrated, attempting to make my voice softer. No results to uphold.
"Listen, what I did was wrong, okay? I get that," he explained, the tension increasing between us, "I really didn't think you were going to do it."
"Daryl," I said like it was a punch line of a lame joke. "You're telling me that I would not have killed Shane if he was actually trying to kill me?"
I scoffed and rolled my eyes, glancing out of the windshield. Rick was busy packing everybody up, eager to start heading west, to Oklahoma. The last one to feel depressed after several days other than myself was Lori; It was apparent she loved him for a short time. I actually didn't even know if she still did, but it was evident she did at one time.
"Like I was expecting him to tackle your neck," he scowled, tilting his head and raising one eyebrow.
I took a deep breath, more relaxed than I thought I was going to be.
"Well, Uh, nice talk," I said enthusiastically, jolting up into a standing position and clapping my hands, noting that our little talk was over. I started to walk away when he suddenly grabbed my hand, making Andrea cautiously stand guard. I tried jerking away, but he kept hold.
"I was angry," he raised his voice, not exactly yelling but not calm either, "and jealous. And yes, I did the wrong thing! If you won't acknowledge my sincere apology then I'll leave."
"Shane was jealous too! But do you know what he said, right before I killed him? As long as I was happy, Daryl, he didn't care who I chose."
"Chose?" he questioned, loosening his grip enough that I could remove my wrist without force. "There was a decision?"
I sighed, rubbing my wrist and holding back screams. "Yes, I actually had a moment where I questioned who I wanted to be with. It doesn't matter now."
"It always matters," he half-growled half-whispered, direct quoting Rick from when he told Edwin Jenner off.
I rubbed my wrist one more time, narrowing my eyes at Daryl. The man whom I thought I loved.
Putting one foot ahead of the other, careful not to lose balance or pass out, I made my way back to the table. Andrea loosely caught hold of me before my butt didn't quite reach the seat.
"You're sick," Daryl pointed out, slowly getting up from the seat and taking a step closer to where I positioned myself against the window seal.
"She hasn't eaten a lot today," Andrea attentively said, sitting on my side of the bench and putting her hand to my head. It was super cold.
"Do you want me to run to town?" he asked, pointedly to me. Andrea answered for me.
"We're going past a city. We have to resupply anyway."
Daryl stood there, watching me with furrowed eyebrows as Andrea rung out a wet washcloth and placed it onto my head. It felt really nice.
"Daryl, can I trust you to hold this on her head while I go tell Rick?" Andrea asked seriously, not an ounce of playfulness in her words.
Daryl cautiously glanced at me, and when I didn't give him my infamous I'll kill you glare, he nodded his head.
"I'll be back," she quietly said to me. I watched her leave, only looking at Daryl when he slid next to me and held the cloth to my head.
"You're burnin' up," he muttered to himself. I glanced up at him for a split second, quickly looking away when that pang of love hit my gut. No way did I ever love him again, even if I tried.
"Thanks, captain obvious," I muttered back, looking down when I realized what I said was sarcastic, the first sign of a healing Ayden. I really hoped Daryl didn't pick up on it nor was he the cause of me feeling slightly better.
"I can't tell you how sorry I am," Daryl whispered, blotting my temples with the cloth. It relaxed me, and unfortunately Daryl's presence had made it better. Not that I'd admit it then.
"I don't know if I can forgive you or not," I veraciously said, shaking my head and uninterestedly staring down at my crossed hands.
Daryl took the washcloth off of my head and stared at me until I looked up at him.
"I'm not looking for an acceptance letter," he benignly stated, chuckling. "And I know you'll hate me forever for this."
"Hate might be too kind of a word to describe how I feel right now," I amended stubbornly, feeling the slightest bit bad about being so tough on him.
The intensity of his gaze deepened until it was nearly impossible for me to look away. I seriously felt he had picked up hypnotizing skills over the past few weeks.
"It was my fault," he whispered. It looked like his eyes were attempting to become watery, but knowing Daryl, they definitely weren't.
I didn't know what to say to this. I couldn't agree, even though I really did. I couldn't disagree because the only other one to blame was me.
"Don't blame anyone. Let's agree on that."
He smiled sweetly and placed his hand on my clasped ones. At first I wanted to jolt my hands back, run away, and not talk for another four months. But something weird happened. The same love I felt before returned, only the impulse to shove myself at him was microscopic compared.
"How long has it been?" he curiously asked, rubbing my shoulder when I clenched my jaw.
"A month tomorrow," I cringed, an unwanted feeling of serenity overwhelming me when he lightly lifted my chin to face him.
Tears fell down my face, the flow not stopping as he sighed and pulled my head to his chest.
"I'm sorry," he murmured over and over again, rocking me as I dissolved into tears. I rested my forehead onto the lower part of his neck, sniffling as I got myself under control. Daryl patted my hair, careful not to hit the huge gash on my neck from when I passed out a few days ago. Fell straight to the ground like a bowling ball, hit my head. Slight concussion, nothing I couldn't handle. Andrea seemed to have been in more pain than I was.
"I'll forgive you," I whispered, a slight wisp of irritability in my tone, "there's one catch."
Daryl stopped patting my head, giving me his full attention. "Is it fair?"
"It might not feel like it for you," I whispered, removing my head from his chest and gazing up into his blue eyes.
"What is it?" he asked.
"I'm not going to marry you."