I slowed my pace as dusk began to fall on the forest. The birds retired for the night, the crickets and owls taking their place, softly filling the world with their songs. Misha grew impatient by my slowing pace, growling every now and then, willing me to move faster. I was lost in thought, no longer concerned with either of our wellbeing. I was hung up on the past and how if I had just been a little faster, just a little smarter, maybe I could have prevented the nightmare that had soon become my life. I was tired of losing people. I was tired of people dying. I was tired.
A low moan wasn't even enough to shake me from my thoughts. I didn't flinch. I didn't make any move to protect myself. The walker walked right on past me, either because I smelled like it or because…well maybe I was already dead.
My grip on reality slipped as I aimlessly walked through the forest. I had lost the trail hours ago and didn't have any care to try and find it. Misha whined, growing more and more nervous. I sank to the ground next to a huge oak tree, all the fight and determination lost along with my sanity. I clipped the red reflector to Misha's collar and told her to get back to the prison. I told her to protect Alana and somehow keep her alive. She whined and tried to push me back to my feet, but even she knew it was a lost cause. Against her better judgement, she took off running, letting out soft barks every now and again. Soon, I couldn't hear her anymore. It was then that I allowed myself to cry. I allowed all the pain, all the emotional turmoil to finally take over.
I didn't fight back the small herd that made its way towards me. I just sat there, almost welcoming death. I was welcoming the end. No more pain, no more suffering, nothing.
It was Merle who saw the reflector in the distance. He was the first person Harleigh had ever bothered to tell about the little S.O.S. signal outside of her first group and her children.
"We've got a problem, baby brother," he said, motioning to the dog as she ran to the fence.
"No," Daryl's tone was soft as he let the dog through, tearing the reflector from her collar. "Ain't no way in hell she's dead."
"You think she'd send the dog back with that thing if she wasn't?" Merle asked skeptically. Even in Woodbury, Misha was always glued to Harleigh's side. If she wasn't, Blade was. He often teased her about it.
"I'm going after her," Daryl said, his mind made up.
"Why? You ain't owe her nothing," Merle argued, his tone dripping with disgust.
Daryl said nothing. Something told him the entire situation was off. He grabbed his crossbow before nodding at Misha. "Find her," he commanded. Misha whined and pawed the ground, unsure if she should follow the redneck's command. Merle smirked, amused by the dog's confusion.
"Told ya, she's dead," he said, his tone almost sympathetic. Something about that girl had his baby brother all out of sorts.
"Who's dead?" Rick's bitter tone rang through the darkness. Daryl couldn't bring himself to make eye contact.
"Misha came back…along," he said softly, showing Rick the reflector.
"She made her decision," Rick shrugged. He moved past the pair, unconcerned about the news. He didn't seem to be totally there either.
"Looks like some things never change," Merle muttered, spitting in the direction Rick had gone. Daryl said nothing. He turned back to Misha, hoping, no actually truly praying, that Harleigh was alive.
"I'm going after her," he said again, this time actually wheeling away from Merle, who muttered something under his breath.
"I'm not," Merle said louder this time. Daryl turned back to him, a desperate expression on his dirt-covered face.
"Please," he begged. For once in his life, he needed his brother to man the hell up enough to do the right thing. "You owe her."
Merle pondered his brother's words. It didn't make sense that his brother cared so much for the fiery, scrawny little huntress. Then again, Daryl never was right in the head as far as Merle was concerned.
"Fine."
I found myself thinking back to a conversation I had with Merle a few days after landing in Woodbury. Alana was with one of the mothers whose children she had gotten fairly close with. Merle and I had agreed to go out on a run for gasoline while the woman watched Alana for me. Apparently Woodbury had been running low on fuel, which wasn't much of a surprise considering how the Governor seemed to always be enjoying the amenities the rest of us had given up soon after the world went to shit.
"Carin's gon' get ya killed," Merle said as we scouted the gas station, taking out the undead as we went. Merle was to my left, Misha to my right, Blade far ahead, trying to clear a path. Scout was following behind us, trying to make herself as useful as her bigger, wiser friends.
"Caring's kept me alive this long," I shrugged as I picked up my pace, not wanting to lose sight of Blade.
"You're stupid, Kitten, you know that?" Merle scoffed. His tone was bitter, completely heartless. "Always off helpin' someone."
"It's called bein' human," I spat. He was annoying the hell outta me. "Try it sometime."
"Didn't never care 'bout no one," he murmured, more to himself than to me.
"Not even your brother?" I asked. As soon as we had gotten safely behind the walls that surrounded Woodbury, Merle had asked if I happened to cross paths with his brother at any point. From what I had gathered, they had been separated for quite some time by the time I showed up.
"That's different," Merle snarled. "Kin's all you've got." His tone was unreadable. I spared a glance at the gruff, angry man. Maybe there was something more to Merle after all.
"You'll find him," I said gently. I pulled ahead, still following Blade through the gas station's lot of abandoned cars.
"Crazy," I muttered to myself, shaking my head. "The world's gone to hell and still, people get their their happy endings." It seemed strange to me that Merle never bothered to mention his brother's name. I hadn't even pieced it together until Michonne showed up at the prison. Maybe it was fate. Maybe that was what my purpose had been all along. Bring those two back together and die right after. It seemed poetic enough.
No, I thought to myself. My purpose was to raise that little girl as my own. I had to. Alana had no one left in this awful, evil world. No one other than me. It was my job to protect her. Regardless, I couldn't bring myself to move from my perch. Misha was gone and the walkers were swarming the tree I had managed to climb. I was screwed. Either I die trying to get down or I die from dehydration waiting for them to wander off.
Nice one, Harleigh, I scolded myself. Of course you come to your senses after you've gone and gotten yourself into a mess you aren't prepared to deal with. I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream. I wanted to die. In that moment, giving up was so much easier than trying to come up with a plan.
"You'll never amount to nothing…" "You're a disgrace, you pitiful bitch…." "Your mother never wanted you, you stupid, naïve brat…"
"You deserved all the lashes dad ever gave you. You deserved every, single one of 'em and so much more!"
"I'll make you scream my name, you little whore. I'll make you scream till ya can't utter 'nother word!"
"Mommy!" Brooke cried out. "Mommy wake up!"
"C'mon mom, you can't die on me," Jake begged.
I wanted to hold onto them forever, but the fight….the fight was too great. The pain, the darkness, I welcomed it all.
I broke down. Tears poured down my cheeks until there were no tears left to cry. I regretted every decision I had ever made. Every single one of them. All I wanted was to hold my children, all three of them, one last time. I looked down at the herd and kicked myself for ever thinking I could hold my own. Now I was going to break my promise to yet another child. I would never make it back to Alana. I would never feel her warmth again. Instead, I would die in a damn tree and turn into one of them. Or I'd fall and they'd tear me to shreds. Or maybe…No. That wasn't a possibility anymore. No. This time, there wasn't going to be a knight in shining armor or an escape or a four legged friend to get me out. Even my dog knew it was better to leave me than to fight to keep me alive. Even I knew it was better to give up on myself. Because right there, I was lost. I was lost in my head. I was lost and alone and nothing more than walker bait. All because I cared too damn much. All because I cared too much to care about what I was feeling, to put the concern for others aside long enough to cope. To cope with the death of my children and the loss of anything and everything I ever knew. To cope with everything that had happened at Woodbury and the nightmares that it all stirred up. I was too damn stubborn to express any sort of feeling. Instead, I put all of my energy into protecting everyone else and look where that got me?
My last coherent thought was that Merle was right after all. Damn redneck.
Misha led the way through the woods, straying far from the trail they had expected Harleigh to take. Every now and then she stopped to mark a rock or stump or bush, but otherwise, she kept on running, only circling back long enough for us to keep an eye on her. Daryl kept his eyes on the ground, looking for any sign that she could still be alive. They walked for what seemed like forever. Merle complained and insulted everyone and everything the entire time. Finally, Daryl caught sight of Harleigh's bow, her arrows scattered around the ground. The low echo of moans and growls rattled off the trees.
Misha froze, her ears pinned to her skull, her teeth bared as she let out a low, vicious growl.
"Told ya, Darlina, Kitten's lnog gone," Merle said with a bitter shake of his head.
"Shut up, Merle," Daryl growled. His heart sank as he moved towards the sound, terrified of what he may find, but determined to know for sure.
Without warning, Misha shot in front of them, barking loudly, her thick fur flying in the wind as she took off at an incredible speed. Daryl followed her, only vaguely aware that Merle was keeping pace behind him.
Misha charged at walkers, her teeth, claws and the spiked vest tearing through their flesh and bones. Merle started slashing at them as Daryl took aim, finishing the herd off in record time.
Daryl's heart sank. He scanned the sea of carnage to try and find anything that resembled Harleigh.
"Misha, you foolish pup you," a familiar voice moaned. The leaves above them rustled, causing Daryl and Merle to both look up. Another rustle followed by a groan and a loud, uncoordinated thud caused them to exchange a look. Then she stepped out from behind the tree, looking exhausted and something neither could quite put a word to. Misha couldn't contain her excitement any longer. She ran to her friend, her tail wagging wildly, launching herself into her arms, causing her to land heavily against the tree.
"Misha, down," she muttered, a pained expression crossing her face. "I told you to go home, you stupid dog."
"Ain't home without ya," Daryl said before he had a chance to think. This caused both his brother and Harleigh to look at him with disbelief.
"Ain't home without ya," he said, his eyes locking on mine. I felt my heart flutter in my chest, but quickly masked all emotion. There was no way in hell Daryl Dixon was my knight in shining armor. Was there?
"Shouldn't've come," I muttered. I spared a glance at Misha, who was pressed tightly against my legs, keeping me from falling over. "Told you to go protect Lana," I muttered, scratching behind her ear. She looked up at me knowingly, almost as if she was trying to tell me she knew I needed her help afterall.
I retrieved my bow and arrows, tossed them carelessly over my shoulder, then nodded to the pair of brothers. "Let's go."
I barely acknowledged either of them, until Merle was side by side with me, a troubled look on his face. He didn't say anything until he was right in my ear. He said two words, that coming from a man like him, actually meant a whole lot of something.
"Thank you."
A/N – To Clarify, large italic portions are flash backs, whereas small italic portions are just thoughts. In case you haven't followed me in the past, I wanted to clear that up for you. I also wanted to remind everyone that from this point forward, especially since when this was written originally, it was years before Negan and the Saviors, that I will be skipping huge parts of the series. This is largely due to the fact that I really want to finish this time around and don't want to spend too much time on bits that I wasn't a huge fan of.