Hey guys! I need y'all's help with something.

I don't usually use third person POV; I used it in this story mostly for practice, but I don't think I'm as good with it as I am with 1st person.. What do y'all think? Stay with the third, or go to first?

And I watched am interview of Norman Reedus, and he said he was trying To portray Daryl as someone who was "socially awkward" and "hadn't had sex". Hahahaha, Norman, I can totally roll with your wishes (:

I should probably throw in a disclaimer, seeing as I haven't yet. I don't own TWD or any of it's characters (I wish, though).

6

Foreshadowing With A Sprinkle of Flashback


Riley watched Daryl's frantic pacing uneasily, her hand slipping to her gun. She wouldn't actually shoot him, but she could threaten him if she needed to.

His breathing was shaky as he suddenly turned on T-Dog, raising his crossbow just inches from his face. Before Riley could draw her weapon, Rick had already done it, aiming the barrel of his gun towards Daryl's temple.

"I don't care if every walker in the city hears it," he growled.

"Just put it down, Daryl. Killing him won't bring your brother back," Riley said in the most sympathetic voice she could muster.

His face contorted as he struggled to hold the tears back. He dropped his crossbow, asking T for a durag. Riley silently wondered what for, before Daryl wrapped his brother's hand up.

She grimaced. "They'll be able to smell that-"

"I don't give a damn," Daryl muttered. "He musta... The saw blade musta been too dull for the handcuff." He stuck the wrapped up hand in Glenn's bag, the carrier of which bag looked an odd shade of green.

Daryl started following the blood trail, and they started following him.

"I can take that for you," Riley offered. It wasn't ideal for her particular fighting style, but the last thing they needed was Glenn passing out or spewing chunks. He faintly shook his head, and Riley sympathetically patted his shoulder before continuing on.

She couldn't lie: where she had expected to find a spitting, delirious Merle, she now expected a corpse. He had been on a roof for almost two days with no food or water, completely exposed to the sun. Now he had apparently cut off his own hand. Tourniquet or no tourniquet, not even a Dixon could make it much farther.

Riley slid out the long dagger from her thigh and another smaller one from her boot as they descended the stairs. She inwardly winced when Daryl called out for Merle, knowing that would bring out any walkers that were hiding. Not that they couldn't get past them no problem, she just preferred to sneak around.

They entered the building's lobby, coming across the two dead walkers.

"Had enough in 'im ta take out these two sunovabitches," Daryl stated. "One handed."

Riley shook her head, licking her lips as she examined the wounds. Blunt object straight to the head. "That's impossible," she muttered. He should've been so weak that he could hardly stand, let alone run around and kill dead things.

"You dunno my brother," Daryl responded, reloading his bow. "Toughest asshole I ever met."


"Stop poking it!" Simmie protested, flinching (again) as Lori prodded her black eye (again).

Lori smiled, tilting Simmie's head as she examined the bruise. "Stop movin', and I won't have to poke it."

Simmie whimpered and tried to pull away, frowning. "That one was on purpose."

Lori tried to hide her smile.

"Come on, Sim, toughen up. It's just a battle wound," Carl said over his mom's shoulder.

"Oh yeah? Where're your battle wounds?" Simmie challenged.

Carl rolled up his pants leg to show her a minuscule white line on his knee. "That's from when I fell off my bike when I was six!" he said proudly.

Simmie squinted, leaning forwards. "What? I don't see anything!"

Carl stuck out her tongue at her, and Simmie did the same. Lori's gaze focused on something behind her, and she turned to see Amy and Andrea walking up with about two dozen fish.

Simmie grinned. No squirrel tonight! She could've danced. She stood up, eager to get away from Lori's constant prodding.

"I've never been happier to see a slimy, dead thing," Simmie remarked, making Amy grin as she took a swig of water. The two sisters smiled under everyone's praise.

Simmie had to admit she was impressed. What other tricks did these two have up their sleeves?

Andrea said something about the fishing gear to Dale as he walked up. He didn't crack a smile, stating in a low voice, "I don't wanna alarm anyone, but we may have a bit of a problem."

His tone of voice immediately made the smile slip from Simmie's face even before she saw Jim digging.

"Five minutes of happiness," Simmie muttered. "That too much to ask for?"

Mark walked over to her, shooting a grim smile in her direction. "What's he doing?" she asked.

Mark shrugged. "Haven't talked to him today."

"You should," Simmie urged. "He likes you."

Mark nodded and headed in Jim's direction. Simmie frowned, wondering what he possibly could be digging.


Daryl crept into a narrow kitchen, shouting Merle's name again.

"Stop," Riley demanded. "All you're doing is drawing attention to ourselves."

"Screw that," he mumbled, walking over to the open flames.

Riley's heart sank as she realized what he had done to himself. Did Merle really have such little trust in his little brother to think he would just abandon him? How could he have just given up so easy?

"What's all that burned stuff?" Glenn asked innocently.

"Skin," answered Rick.

"He cauterized it," Riley explained in further depth.

"Told you he was tough," Daryl grumbled.

No one was this tough, Riley thought. The only thing Merle had to fight for was Daryl, and Merle didn't even seem to care that much about his younger sibling.

Riley thought about what she would do if she was separated from her family, and she knew she'd do everything Merle did and worse. She wouldn't stop until she had reached them, or died.

"Didn' stop 'im from breakin' outta this hellhole."

Riley looked in amazement at the broken window pane and out at the ledge and the street below. She pushed a few strands that had fallen out of her ponytail behind her ear.

"He's alone, fer all he knows. Doin' whut he does best: survivin'."

"Why wouldn't he just wait?" Riley asked, speaking her agitated thoughts.

"Didn' ya hear me? He thinks he's alone," Daryl answered roughly.

"Did you do something to make him think you would just leave him?" Riley realized what she had said as soon as it had slipped out of her mouth. She wasn't one for careless mistakes, but she had made one.

"What did ya jus' say, bitch?!" Daryl demanded, pushing his forearm against her throat as he slammed her back against the wall.

She raised her feet up, kicking him away before Rick had the chance. "That came out wrong," she admitted, holding her hands up.

"I'll say!" he exclaimed, lunging once again for her. She waved the knife in front of his face, and Rick held an arm across his chest, holding him back.

"Stupid, good-fer-nothin', bitch!" Daryl spat.

"I apologized, for God's sake! What more do you want?!"

"I didn't hear nothin'!"

"Stop!" Rick commanded, intervening. "We've got enough problems without fightin' each other," he scolded. "Now's the time to be mature."

Daryl turned and stalked a few paces away, and Riley huffed indignantly, crossing her arms.

"They always like that?" Rick asked.

Glenn and T-Dog nodded, grimacing.

"Hello, we're still in tha room!" Daryl interrupted.

Riley held back a sharp retort, sticking her tongue in her cheek.

"His odds aren't very good, man. He's wanderin' 'round on the streets, almost passing out," T-Dog said.

"Better than bein' handcuffed ta a roof," Daryl retorted dryly. "I'm goin' ta look fer 'im."

Rick put a hand on his chest, pushing him back.

"Git yer hands off me!" Daryl shouted, making Glenn flinch nervously. Riley trotted over to the door, looking in the empty lobby for any walkers who might had wandered in the area. Seeing nothing, she turned and caught the last bit of Rick's monologue.

"We can check a few blocks just around here, but only if we keep a level head."

Daryl swallowed, saying, with difficulty, "I can do that."

T shook his head. "Only if we get the bag first. I'm not about to stroll down the streets with only my good intentions."

Riley snorted in amusement, rolling up her right pant leg and revealing the knife sheath strapped to the side of her shin. She pulled out the long dagger, handing it to the surprised T-Dog. "Until you get a gun," she explained.

"How many of those do you have?" Glenn asked breathlessly, staring at her with wide eyes.

She smirked, shooting him a wink.


Simmie walked down with the rest of the camp to where Jim was digging. Her stomach churned and her blood ran cold as she finally got a good look at the holes.

Graves. They looked like graves.

"Did he...?" Simmie asked Mark, looking up at him with wide eyes. He shook his head, wiping his face.

Carl looked up at Simmie. "What's he doin'?" he asked quietly.

Simmie shook her head, wrapping an arm around the kid's shoulders. "I don't know."

She listened warily as Shane and the man talked, trying to hide the worried look on her face. Carol stood right next to her, offering a little smile to the younger woman.

Simmie looked at the ground when Jim mentioned Ed's face. Like it or not, Shane had helped the women. If he hadn't been there, then Simmie's black eye and Carol's bruised cheek wouldn't have been the only injuries.

Simmie wished, for about the millionth time that day, that Riley had stayed. She would've been able to easily negotiate her way into Jim's mind and convince him to stop, while asking questions that seemed completely irrelevant.

"You weren't there," Amy spoke up. "He was hurting his wife, and look what he did to Simmie!"

Simmie flushed, turning her embarrassed gaze to the ground again. She didn't want to be dragged into this.

Jim suddenly went crazy, swinging at Shane with the shovel. Shane tackled him to the ground, telling him that nobody was trying to hurt him.

Simmie listened in horror as Jim revealed his past. "The only reason I got away is because the dead were busy eating my family."

Simmie felt the blood drain from her face, and she removed her arm from Carl's shoulders, cupping it over her mouth. Mark saw her terrified expression and gently wrapped a meaty arm around her waist, leading her back up to camp.

"The only reason we got away is because they were eating the other tenants," she muttered miserably.

"They would've been happy that at least some of us got away," Mark reassured.


Riley listened as Glenn explained his plan. His un-detailed, bound-to-fall-apart-the-second-something-messed-up, plan.

"Nuh-uh," Riley interrupted. "I should go. I'm trained, I'm fast, and I'm quiet. And I won't have a melt down if something goes wrong. No offense," she added, glancing at Glenn.

"Look," Glenn pressed, pushing around the binder clips and other items that signified the various objects and people.

"At least let me go with you," Riley pleaded. She liked the Asian kid, and she didn't want to see him as a walker meal.

"Daryl will wait for me here-" he continued, ignoring her.

"Why me?"

"Your crossbow's a lot quieter than his gun."

"And my fist is a lot quieter than all of it!" Riley exclaimed, irritated that no one was taking her seriously. She walked away and started pacing, redoing her ponytail.

A few minutes later found Riley, T, and Rick running down an alley. Riley stood at the mouth, pressed against the wall and occasionally peeking into the street.

"There he goes," she whispered, watching Glenn run into the middle of the street.

"Walker!" Rick quietly warned, making Riley spin around and see a geek stumbling towards them.

"Got it," she muttered, stalking forwards. She was desperate to prove that she wasn't a damsel in distress.

She dropped to the ground, supporting herself on one hand as she spun around, kicking his legs out from under him. She leapt gracefully up and away before he fell right where she had been a second ago. She danced forwards, stabbing him through the mouth.

Suddenly, loud shouts started coming from where Daryl and Glenn were supposed to be. "Damn it all to hell!" she hissed, jerking her knife out and sprinting after Rick into their alleyway.

Some kid was currently screaming his head off while Daryl was fighting and yelling like an idiot. Rick pushed Daryl away while T held the kid.

"The lil' bastard and his homie friends took Glenn!" Daryl shouted.

Riley jogged over to the gate, where the geeks were clustering. The holes in the chain-link fence weren't big enough for them to reach their arms through or for her to use her long dagger, so she used the smaller one to stab as many in the head as she could.

"C'mon! Riley, c'mon!" Rick demanded, pulling the back of her shirt and taking off down the alley, Riley right on his heels.

They ended up back in the same building, with the kid planted firmly in a chair behind a desk. All four adults were on the other side, trying to weasel information from him. Except for Riley, who was standing and watching thoughtfully, and Daryl, who was pacing and looked pissed as all get out.

"I ain't tellin' ya nothin'," the kid said, glaring up at Rick.

"What the hell happened back there?" T-Dog demanded.

"I told ya! This turd and his douchebag friends came outta nowhere and jumped me!"

"Your the one who jumped me. Screaming about his brother like it was my damn fault," he ended with a mumble.

Riley walked forwards, uncrossing her arms, as she heard the spanish word he had emitted. "¿Tu hablas español?" she asked. (You speak Spanish?)

"Sí," the boy answered warily. "¿Dónde aprendiste a hablar?" (Where did you learn to speak it?)

"Mí escuela," Riley answered. (My school.) She turned to the men who were giving her surprised looks, waving them out of earshot.

"Let me interrogate him," Riley coaxed.

"What makes you better than the rest of us?" Rick asked.

"It was part of my job," she returned.

"Which was...?" T-Dog started.

Riley didn't answer, turning around and pushing the desk away with a heave. The boy was left, exposed, in the middle of the room. Having him behind a desk gave him a sense of protection and elevated status, like he was the principal consulting with unruly students. She snaked a foot out, kicking the chair out from under him. He fell to the ground with a cry of surprise, and she bent down and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt.

"Listen here, niño, I'm really not in the mood, okay? I got my sorry ass dragged on this trip, and I've had to listen to this guy bitch all day about his brother. He doesn't seem to understand that he ain't coming' back. And then you and your amigos take the only person that I actually get along with. So excuse me if I'm a little forward, but you better cooperate," she hissed, dumping the kid on the ground.

"'the HELL did ya jus' say?!" Daryl demanded, lunging towards Riley.

"I was lying!" she mouthed, putting her hands on his chest. "All of it; it was a lie. Roll with it," she whispered through clenched teeth, shooting T and Rick a glance.

"Come on," Riley said in a louder tone, rolling her eyes. "Go complain about your problems to someone who cares." She stalked theatrically over to the door, slouching against the wall and watching Daryl easily pick up the idea, scaring the crap out of the kid with Merle's hand.


The negotiation with G hadn't gone exactly to plan. Riley'd been in hostage situations before, and they never were fun.

"Ya willin' ta risk all tha' for Glenn?" Daryl asked.

"You're kidding, right?" Riley demanded. "Glenn came out to help find your brother; you owe him, man."

Daryl shot her a glare, knowing she was right. "So you're jus' gonna give 'im all the guns?" Daryl questioned.

"I didn't say that," Rick answered. "Y'all should go back."

"And tell your family what?" T rubbed his head.

Rick sighed, and the boys started loading up rifles. Riley removed the gun strapped to her hip, removing the long dagger T had returned to her from its sheath.

"I was looking for a workout," Riley mused with a small smirk. "Let's go get us some tacos."

T-Dog snorted in amusement, shaking his head, and even Daryl looked down to hide a little smirk.

"This isn't funny," Rick pressed, fixing her with his blue-eyed glare. "We could all die."

"This isn't my first hostage situation, chief," Riley responded with a grimace, turning and walking out the door.

A few minutes later found them back at G's place with a bound and gagged Miguel. As they stepped inside, Riley found her heart sinking at the multitude of extremely large men. They were severely outnumbered.

At least they would look over her, seeing as she was a girl, and she could use that to her advantage.

She watched keenly as G described his dogs, before stating calmly, "He's lying."

"Gunna call my bluff?" G demanded.

She narrowed her green eyes. "Do you guys hear any dogs barking?"

"They in the back," G retorted.

Either way, he was lying, and Riley knew it. It was etched onto his face.

Suddenly, the crowd began to part as an elderly woman hobbled into view. G and Felipe both told her to leave, but she quickly began to speak to the latter.

"Git that old lady outta the line o' fire!" Daryl ordered.

No, Riley thought, the gears in her head spinning furiously. G's men needed that woman. If Riley could get to her-

Riley aimed her Beretta solely at the old woman's head. "Anybody moves, I'll blow her brains out!"

"Riley, what the hell?!" Daryl demanded.

Silence stretched through the room, as the elder stared at Riley, confused.

"Now, we want Glenn," she growled. "And if I don't see someone going to get him in five- four-"

"The Asian boy?" the old lady asked.

Riley gave a slow nod, and the lady waved excitedly for them to follow. "Come, come!"


They were almost back to the van before Rick suddenly rounded on Riley.

"What the hell was that?" he demanded, fury shining in his pale blue eyes.

Riley clenched her jaw. "That was me trying to save all of us."

"By threatenin' to kill an old lady?"

Riley just shrugged. "Worked, didn't it?"

"Look, we are not those kind of people-"

"Who are you to say what kind of person I am?" Riley snapped. "I'm sorry, okay! I took it too far by involving the old lady. Now can-"

"Where the hell's our van?" Daryl interrupted, staring at the empty spot the car once occupied.

"Who would take it?!" Glenn exclaimed.

"Merle."

Riley exhaled slowly. "So, we run the whole way?"

"Hey, at least you're gonna get that workout you wanted," Rick joked half-heartedly.

Riley smiled, sheathing her knife. "Lucky me," she said, taking off into a steady jog.

They were all silent as they ran. When they reached the forest, Riley tried to put some distance between her and the group. She could feel the judging looks and the dislike radiating from them, the few people who she could maybe call friends. Except for Daryl, of course.

Speaking of the devil. He jogged up in the corner of her eye, falling into step with her.

"Would ya have done it?" he asked.

"Done what?" Riley questioned, knowing exactly what he meant. She grabbed a tree and used it to hoist herself up over the last bit of the hill she'd been climbing.

"Killed the lady."

She peered over at him, surprised to see he was actually looking at her. Maybe not straight on, but he normally never looked at anyone when he talked to them other than sideways glances.

She sighed and looked at the ground, hopping over a log. "No," she confessed.

He grunted, keeping up with her brisk trot. "Why'd ya do it?"

"I had to do something to save you guys's sorry asses," she responded with a slight smirk.

He smirked a little too.

While they were (for once) being civil to each other, Riley added seriously, "I'm sorry about Merle."

He shrugged. "'S not yer fault. Ya didn't leave 'im."

And that's when they heard the screaming.


Sorry 'bout the choppiness! I just wanted y'all to get a feel for Riley and how she responded in situations like those.

Hmmm, the boys are starting to wonder bout her past (;

Leyshla Gisel: Thank you! (: