Lucy was asleep in the car when Daryl returned. His abrupt knock on the driver's side window prompted what felt to her like a mini heart attack. Her girlish yelp and consequent flailing muscle spasm would have made Daryl smile if it wasn't for the fact that he'd returned alone. After a few seconds to calm herself, she opened the car door and stepped out. She looked around but no one was with him and from his expression she could tell that no one was coming either.

"No one?" She asked solemnly.

"I tried. They wouldn't listen. They think they're better off with Rick."

"We're better off without them. Rick and Shane, they're power hungry. They need to be in charge but they don't even know what they're talking about. Strength in numbers," she scoffed. "Try telling that to the people in Atlanta."

"It doesn't matter now," he said as he packed his few belongings into the backseat. "We should get moving."

Lucy got into the passenger seat. Daryl drove them out. She could feel the resentment seeping from him. A little of it was for her for offering him a future he couldn't, with any sanity, turn down. The rest was for the people he had had to leave behind. Stubborn fools, but friends nonetheless and in a world where that had become a precious commodity, it was hard to let of, even if it was what was best for one's survival. Lucy just hoped he could let them go, that his resentment didn't turn to anger, that he didn't end up hating her for it.

.

..

.

Daryl made it just past the state border on the ten gallons they had in the gas tank. They'd found a road map in a highway gas station just outside of Lafayette and Daryl was doing his best to conserve gas while avoiding any cities with substantial populations. He studied the map while he refilled the gas tank with their last ten gallons. As much as he hated it, their best option for the meantime would be to take the primary highway 24. It posed a risk, he knew. Any survivors might be watching it, maybe even guarding it, blocking it. They could run into another pile up like he'd run into with Rick and the others. They might have to ditch the car. He figured it was only a matter of time before they had to ditch the car anyway. He was pouring their last 200 miles into the tank and they'd had no luck finding any gas in the last 130. He closed up the gas tank and got back in the drivers seat.

"We'll take highway 24, get off on highway 50, follow that right up to Kentucky, if nothing goes wrong."

"That's almost 200 miles," she said, knowing that was the extent of their gasoline. "Will we make it that far?"

"Probably not. Let's hope we find some gas between here and there or we'll be walking."

"Might not be so bad," Lucy smiled, trying to lighten the mood. "Been cooped up in this car so long. My legs could use a stretch. How about you?"

"Yeah," Daryl said quickly as he started the vehicle, agreeing just to agree and end the conversation.

Lucy was sick of the silence, the awkward glances, the unspoken anger. "If you're just gonna hate me the whole time, why'd you even come? You could have stayed. I wasn't holding a gun to your head."

"I don't hate you, Lucy. Sometimes, I just wish I'd never met you, that's all."

"Oh, well, when you put it that way..." She scoffed, folded her arms across her chest and turned her head away, staring out the window. "Pull over."

"What?"

"Pull over!"

"Look, I'm sorry, okay. I just packed up and left everything I knew in this world to go on a potentially deadly and possibly useless journey with a complete stranger."

"Pull the fucking car over, Daryl."

"I'm not pulling over."

"Unless you want me to piss this seat right though, you'll pull over."

He looked over to judge her seriousness and decided she wasn't lying. He pulled the car over, put it in park and disconnected the wires. "Two minutes, then I'm coming for you. Don't go out too far."

Lucy got out, slammed the door to let him know just how angry she was, and proceeded to walk into the brush off the side of the highway. She found a decent spot, pulled her pants down and squatted at the proper angle. She could have held it for another fifty miles at least but she needed the break from her driving companion, even if it was only for a minute or two. Lucy was pulling her pants up when she heard Daryl shout for her.

"Walker!"

She heard the fling of his crossbow releasing and jumped around. The brush was as tall as her chin. She didn't dare to move. They could be anywhere, surrounding her. She slipped a knife from her belt and tried to ready herself.

It grabbed her arm from behind her. Stifling a scream, she turned around as fast as she could and raised her blade high, ready to bring it down on the creatures head, when it grabbed her fighting wrist and held it back.

She sighed. It was Daryl. He put his finger to his lips and gestured for her to be silent. She nodded and followed him out of the brush, holding desperately to his belt for fear of losing him. They got back to the car where a walker was reaching into the car for Pandora. Daryl put an arrow through it's forehead and it dropped. Lucy scurried into the vehicle. Daryl collected his arrow and got in the drivers seat. He quickly started the car and sped them out of there.

When she'd got her breath back, she thanked him and apologized.

"Nothing to be sorry for," he said.

.

..

.

The car stalled fifty miles shy of the Kentucky border. They had found no gas. They carried what they could and continued on walking.

"Maybe we shouldn't have avoided all of the towns we passed," Lucy suggested as they trudged down the gravel back-road with all of their supplies strapped to their backs.

"And maybe we wouldn't be here if we hadn't. That thing on your shoulder's isn't just a hat rack, you know. I don't know how you ever survived on your own."

"Well I did. So stop giving me grief. I'm just trying to help."

"Well, you're not."

"What the fuck is your problem?! I'm sorry you had to leave your friends, okay?! But you did that, not me. I didn't even want you to come. I was just being nice, offering you a way out. You took it. So, if you're mad at yourself, that's fine. Hate yourself until the day you die. I don't care. But stop taking it out on me 'cause I only ever did right by you." Lucy huffed past him, sick of being lead, sick of staring at his back, of walking in his shadow.

Daryl stopped, shocked by her fierce and honest words. He watched her for a few seconds and realized for the first time that he never wanted to see her walk away from him again. "Wait," he called out as he jogged up to her. She stopped, still angry, but willing to hear him out. "You're right. I'm an asshole. But it's not you. It's me. I'm sorry, okay?" Lucy nodded, forgiving him, but not yet forgetting. Daryl put his hand around her neck again and pulled her against him. She put her hands up, against his chest, vainly suggestive of pushing him away. He rubbed her cheek with his coarse thumb and her anger subsided and she turned her face to look up at him.

"I'm scared," she admitted against her better judgement. "Since it happened, I haven't had anyone to depend on or help me. No one to lose, either." She had to look away, too embarrassed to maintain eye contact.

Daryl took her face in both hands and without a moments pause he locked his lips to hers. A slew of torrid and desperate kisses passed between them, stunning them both to peaceful silence. Though their lips had parted, he held her face, pressed cheek to cheek, each frantic to linger in the passion.

"You won't lose me," he whispered.

"You can't know that," she replied.

"I promise," he lied.

It was a promise they both knew he shouldn't make, as necessary as it was for her to hear it. There was no telling what the future could bring and empty promises were a dead man's game.