AN: Hey yeah, I suck at updating. In-between being stoned and finishing University papers, I haven't had much time to chill with some buzzed tunes. Medical marijuana users, Skydog is the way to go. Just saying.

Chapter Ten
What the World Can Do

Just as Daryl placed the lasts sterile strip on Gareth's wound, he paused. His hands lingering for a few too many seconds. Not the hands of a doctor, but the hands of a lover taking care of his sweetheart. Those few seconds felt like hours, a bitter sweet mix of want and need.

Before allowing his mind to second guess his gut, Daryl moved forward and placed his lips upon Gareth's. It wasn't romantic, and it wasn't needy. It seemed like more of an experiment for both parties. A very rare moment of complete high for Daryl, to go off on a limb like that. Moments, seconds passed and soon Gareth found himself molding his lips to Daryl's. Confusion. Followed by a mimicked effect. If they were to stop and think about it, really think about it. They were kissing. Really kissing. Nobody was pulling away. An awkward stand off between pure chaos and sweet bliss.

And soon, a pleasant warmth crossed Daryl's lips. Gareth snaked his tongue inside Daryl's mouth. Intriguing, and still no backing away. Hesitantly, Daryl copied Gareth's moves. It had been a long time since he'd done this, and even then he had only done it once or twice at the drive in movie theater. This was different to the movie theater kisses though. It wasn't forced, or unpleasant. It was simple, and it flowed.

Among the mess, Daryl and Gareth found themselves entangled in a web of arms. Touching. Moving. Closeness. Too much closeness. Uncomfortable even.

Quickly, Daryl pulled away. Looking down at the floor, he caught his breath. Panic set in as his heart beat increased. He had no other way to control the surge of discomfort he suddenly experienced. A defensive wall was put up again, and Gareth knew better than to disturb it.

"I'm sorry." Daryl finally spoke, after an uncomfortable silence. It was not genuine, if anything it was out of courtesy.

"Don't be sorry." Gareth spoke softly. They were still treading on extremely thin ice. Sexuality, attraction and morals was an intricate web of endless questions. Hardly a black and white situation.

Without saying another word, Gareth quickly gathered up the medical kit. Closing the small box and putting it back into their belongings. Daryl still looked deep in secluded thought, so Gareth went about looking for supplies. He packed a bag with a few weapons. Melee and bullets. No doubt he would encounter some unwanted bodies. As he looked at Daryl, the person he would have one over, never let out of his sight for fear that he may not get to brutally murder his friends. Gareth smiled, to himself. He quickly pulled the backpack over his shoulder and set out. Daryl only looked up once he heard the door click, and he knew he wouldn't be seen.

He wanted desperately to be comfortable with the situation, but years of torment from everyone who was suppose to love him, left Daryl with a sense of never ending isolation. The only way Gareth could possible want him, would be with the added irony of extreme pain and hurt. His hungover mind was a complete mess, and he wanted nothing more than to be free from his past pain. This would all be a lot simpler if Daryl could think with his heart, instead of his brain.

As Gareth reached the bottom of the stairs, he noticed a small gathering of walkers near the car they had quickly abandoned last night. Using a small knife, he made quick work of them and set off on a small trail, hoping to find an old camp in one of the many clearings.

His search led him for a few hours. Loosing track of time was easy when you had nowhere to be. So far, Gareth had liberated a few items he had found along the way. He had dark brown blood splattered across his shirt, where he encountered a rather determined corpse. It wasn't until he was about to turn back, that a small light in the distance caught his eye.

In among the trees, a thick orange and red light filled the dark forest. Gareth did not miss a beat, and he decided to investigate. As he approached, he noticed it was a small log burning fire. Next to it were two tents, both of which zipped completely shut.

Gareth stayed silent, surveying the area, he made sure to check that his gun was ready for action. Only when he was about move closer, the blue tent on the left moved. The door unzipped and out stepped a woman. She was young, blonde, very pretty. She obviously wasn't alone though. As she stretched and approached the fire, which Gareth had now noticed was cooking what looked like the remains of a wild animal. She called out lightly.

"It's ready."

As two more people crawled out of their tents, one a younger girl, of about fifteen, and a man that looked around Gareth's age, they settled themselves to eat.

Gareth quickly withdrew his gun from aiming, placing it back into the holster which usually carried his melee weapon. As he stepped forward into view, he held up his hands and placed a worried expression upon his face.

"I'm sorry, I'm not going to hurt you." As he spoke, a slightly patronizing Southern accent left his mouth. Unintentionally of course, but he ran with it. "It's just you're the first people I've come across in days."

"You poor thing." The young blonde worried. "Don't you have anyone with you? A camp?" She stood up quickly and allowed Gareth to come closer to the other camp mates. "Sit down, please."

Gareth accepted her invitation and sat down on an old blue metal deckchair, one which would usually be found at the beach. He looked around and asked who else was with them.

"Its us three." The guy answered, a sternness to his voice. He surveyed Gareth like he was nothing more than an x-ray. "And a couple others that have gone out looking for some more food."

"Would you like something to eat?" The blonde questioned, an unhealthy sweetness to her voice.

"No." The older man answered. "We're not a damn Charity. We don't even know who this guy is. Stop acting so god damn stupid Leigh"

"I'm sorry Peter." She replied, looking exhausted.

"I don't need anything to eat..." Gareth interrupted, before a fight could break out. "I'm trying to find my way back to where I lost some of my group. I thought I was heading the right way but I'm not. Have you got a map? If you could help me find my way I'll be out of your hair."

"If you don't know where you are then how the hell do you know you're going the wrong way?" The older man commented, trying to act smarter than he really was.

"Don't be such a brute." Leigh shot at her husband. She quickly stood up and retrieved an old Triple A map from one of the tents. "Do you know where it is you lost em'?" She quickly unfolded the map which showed the local area."

"I'm not sure..." Gareth said, trying to act as innocent as possible. With his slightly baby faced features, it was easy enough.

"Give me it here." Peter commented, almost snatching it out of Leigh's hands. "Women can't do jack shit. Now you say if I help you, you'll be on your way. Don't want nothing from us?"

"No sir." Gareth nodded. "I got all the water and food I need. I got the things I need to survive."

"You got anything valuable? You know, for my troubles?" The older guy questioned, a sleazy look upon his face. Only when he reached for his can of beer did Gareth notice he was drinking. He wondered what the foul smell was.

"Peter." Leigh interrupted. "Sweetie you don't need to give us anything..."

"Yes he does. Now shut your fat ass up before I beat you." Peter threatened, a deeper tone to his voice. The younger girl quickly retreated back to the tent, prior to that she had been eating silently behind the woman, Leigh. Leigh also found herself being quiet at this stage.

"What you got for me?" Peter smiled, showing his foul teeth.

Gareth wondered for a moment, and then rooted through his backpack. He pulled out a small silver locket which looked quite pricey. He had no idea, he had simply stumbled across it on his way here. As he handed over the small gold locket, Peter smiled. He placed it into his back pocket and nodded, before leaning over the map to direct Gareth on his way.

"Now what way did you say you came from?" Peter gruffed.

"Oh um... hold on I think I have something here." Gareth stood quickly, patting his back pockets theatrically. As he did so, he quickly slid the gun he carried over of the holster, before Leigh had time to scream, Gareth had put a bullet through the back of the mans head. The sound seemed to echo endlessly

Without even bothering to turn, he aimed his gun at the woman and let another bullet fly. She fell to the ground with a light thud, blood seeping from her temple. Gareth looked at the mess and sighed, just as the younger girl poked her head out of the tent. A look of shock crossed her face, before she too screamed. Gareth felt a lump in his throat. He hated having to do this to someone young, but it was for the best.

He pulled the trigger, a tight knot entering his stomach as he killed an innocent fifteen year old girl. A deep disappointment flooded Gareth. The sound of approaching walkers filled the air and he quickly went to work. Grabbed any relevant supplies in his bag. He took the majority of their water, they had a nice arsenal of knives, the kind a butcher would use. Gareth rolled up the tarp and stuffed it into his bag. As he stood up, a walker lurched for him, having made it much closer as Gareth rounded up what he could.

The cannibal quickly turned and plunged a knife into the walkers head, followed by another four or five. Just as the surrounding area seemed relatively clear, Gareth nodded and pulled the backpack onto his shoulder. Happy with his loot.

As he went to leave the campsite, a sudden cry filled the air. Gareth gritted his teeth and turned around, noticing the cry was coming from the tent he had left unopened. As the screams progressed, so did walker attention. Torn between running off and leaving a child, or going back and saving him. Gareth had a sudden gut wrenching guilt. Hesitantly, he approached the tent and opened it. Inside a young boy of perhaps three or four sat crying. He had light blonde hair, and blue eyes. Small dungarees covered green and black Pajamas.

Gareth sighed, looking behind him, he noticed walkers approaching even faster. Quick thinking failed him, and he punched the ground.

"Fucking, fuck." He bellowed, before grabbing the child. The boy continued to cry and scream as Gareth held him over his shoulder. Using the pistol, he shot down the walkers which were now fast approaching. He made a straight line towards a clearing, and tried to avoid every walker possible.

As he reached the clearing, he noticed a clear path towards the guard tower, taking to it fast, Gareth managed to outrun most of the walkers. One or two lurked around the guard tower, however he noticed Daryl already outside, killing off any that were too close for comfort. Gareth slowed to a fast paced walk, panting, he noticed the child's cries begin to die down.

Only then had it occurred to him that he was carrying a defenseless child, one that could barely talk, whom had not lost all of his family. The worst part was that Gareth himself was the killer.

God, what had this world done to him?