some fluff... i so sorry!

Chapter 7:

I was successful in avoiding Daryl the rest of the afternoon. Between the dead we had to wrap up, and the walkers still left to burn, I had my work cut out for me. Daryl was silent, something the camp was not used too, but they relished in his quiet work ethic.

Andrea still sat next to her sister and I paused in what I was doing to look at her. Despite my better judgment, I slowly approached her, sitting down next to her.

"Hey." I was quiet, and she looked up at me out of the corner of her eyes. "I'm no coming to say anything to you, I'll just sit here so you don't have to sit alone." She didn't say thank you, but her features showed she wanted to.

I glanced at the row of dead campers that Daryl was gracefully taking a pickaxe too and found him watching me intently. He ran his thumb across his mouth, his typical anxious look, and I knew that me being so close to Amy was making him nervous.

"I never really got to spend much time with her. I was always too busy." Andrea's voice was low, and I tore my eyes away from Daryl to look at her. "I never had time…" The tears began, and I put my hand on her shoulder as she brushed a strand of hair off of Amy's forehead.

"It's okay, you don't have to talk either." She began to breath heavily and I looked up at her, to make sure she was okay, when I realized it wasn't her that was breathing. Slowly my eyes fell to Amy and a small pang of terror floated up into my chest. Andrea slowly brought her head down to her sister's mouth to listen, and her fearful face brought my suspicions to light. Amy was back.

Her body began twitching as she was being reanimated, and Andrea brought her hand to her sister's cheek. Slowly, Amy opened her eyes, but behind them there was no life. The sight stunned me and I inhaled sharply, unconsciously leaning back on my hands. I didn't stand up, however, and I looked over to Daryl. He was already watching with cautious eyes, pick in hand, and I could tell his anxiety was heightened by the situation as he grinded his teeth.

Slowly Amy looked at her sister and began to reach for her, If I hadn't known any better I would've thought she recognized Andrea.

"Amy, I'm sorry." Amy brought her hand to Andrea's cheek. "I'm sorry, for not ever being there. I always thought there'd be more time."

"Andrea…" I warned, seeing Amy's fingers grasping at her hair. Amy began to sit up, trying to bite at her sister, her moans of hunger stirring the rest of the group. The sheriff and his deputy turned in alarm, but Andrea just kept holding her back.

"I'm here now, Amy." Amy's moans got louder and I scooted back a few inches. Dirt crunched behind me and two hands hooked under my shoulders, pulling me away.

"She wants to get eaten by her sister that's her choice." Daryl's husky voice murmured behind me, as he helped me to my feet. I didn't take my eyes off of the two sisters, just stood there quietly, feeling like I was intruding on an incredibly private moment.

Andrea brought the gun to Amy's head and even as I watched it happen, I still wasn't expecting the gunshot. I jumped and Amy's lifeless body fell to the ground. Andrea again returned to coddling her dead sister. Tears stung my eyes and I turned to walk away, running into Daryl's hard body.

I tried in vain to break free of his grip, but his hands held my upper arms

firmly, which I found surprisingly comforting. I didn't cry though, I pushed back the tears and placed my heavy head on his shoulder, suddenly realizing how tired I was, how tired this day, this life had made me. The other survivors sauntered off solemnly, leaving Andrea to her mourning, which now she started all over again.

I looked up at Daryl and our surroundings, realizing we had been left alone, and I attempted to take a step back. Daryl let me take a small one, his hands still on my arms. My eyes suddenly felt heavy, and though I was standing I could barely keep them open.

"I gotta help them load the truck, here." Daryl thrust a bottle of water into my hand. "You can have the rest, you look like shit." His tone was playful, and I knew it was his version of lightening the mood. His eyes narrowed at me, wanting me to respond, but after I didn't say anything he rubbed his thumb across his lip. "I'm sorry."

"What are you sorry for?" I knew it was for the comment, but I wanted to hear him say it.

"I jus' want you to smile," he paused for an awkward moment, and opened his mouth to speak again.

"Hey Daryl! Help me load this body!" Morales called from Daryl's blue truck. Daryl growled, obviously not pleased with the interruption. He looked at me again, and then down at the water bottle in my hand, and turned to help Morales.

"Daryl," He turned around and I looked at him, putting the biggest smile I could possibly muster on my face. He didn't say anything, just chuckled, and I didn't expect him too, nor did I want him to, it would have only cheapened the moment, which at this point, I wasn't quite sure what exactly that moment was.

...

Tensions were high at the funerals and I watched in silence as the dead were tossed into their respective holes. People's heads were low, some were saying prayers, others just stood quietly.

Andrea, being her usually stubborn self, wanted to bury Amy alone, without any help, and I looked on in pity as she drug the girl's body slowly across the ground. Dale followed her, but every time he tried to help, Andrea smacked his hand away or told him she could do it herself. Slowly she piled Amy into the hole, adjusting her position so Amy laid comfortably in her final resting place.

Closing my eyes I took a deep, slow, shaky breath, just wanting this to be over. I hadn't liked funerals before the end of the world, and I surely didn't like them now.

Dale helped Andrea out of the hole and she began to say some sentiments, this time I respected her private moment she was having and walked back to Daryl's truck, where I leaned silently. After a few minutes the rest of the survivors began to descend the hill around me.