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WALK WITH ME

A WALKING DEAD Fanfiction

Previously: Rick brought a young, wounded guy named Randall to the farm. Beth recovered but tried to commit suicide. Rick and Shane took Randall away to cut him loose. Emyli played tag with Beth and others. Daryl thought Emyli was bitten by a walker and came to her rescue—but Emyli trembled on Daryl's harsh handling of the situation.

Chapter 8: JUDGE, JURY, EXECUTIONER (PART 1)

Daryl paced back and forth in front of the young, wounded prisoner.

Rick and Shane went back with Randall still at the back of the Tucson; they failed to cut him loose. Now Daryl had to interrogate the boy as if they had not confirmed yet that he was a threat.

Daryl punched Randall who cried, whimpered in pain. He was definitely angry, but not necessarily with this guy. Daryl was angry with himself; for what happened with the silly, little girl yesterday and for even caring. He punched the kid again, this time, making sure his face touched the ground. Daryl punched him again, and again, and again; each punch fiercer than the previous one.

"I told you…" Randall pleaded with his bloody face.

"You told me shit!" Daryl took him by the collar and bumped him on the wall.

He continued to ask Randall questions. The questions barely came close to the number of punches and kicks, but he did ask him some and he got some answers. Daryl had to threaten him with a knife. He had to put the knife near, very near, to Randall's wounded leg, too near and too sharp for comfort. Thirty men with heavy artillery, that was what Randall confessed. Daryl kicked his wound and the kid screamed. He was about to just punch him some more and leave…when Randall made a very wrong move of sharing a story about his former group.

"These…these people took me in," he panted. "Not just guys, a whole group of 'em. Men, women—kids, too, just like you, people!" Daryl stepped back, eying Randall. "We go out, scavenge…just the men. One night we found this little campsite. A man and his two daughters…teenagers, you know? Real young…real cute…."

Daryl's back was on Randall but with the kid's words and tone, he had an idea where the story was going. He slowly turned to look at him with nothing but hatred in his eyes. Randall stopped talking and fidgeted under Daryl's glare, realizing too late that running his mouth had equaled to digging his grave. He opened his mouth again, knowing he was doomed whether he continued the story or not.

"Their daddy had to watch while these guys…" he said looking down, "they…. And they didn't kill him afterwards! They just…they just made him watch…."

The image that flashed before Daryl's eyes was not that of a father watching helplessly as his two daughters were violated; what Daryl saw was a scared, little girl…trying hard not to cry, trying hard not to make any sound so her younger sister would not hear while their father abused her—tearing her clothes apart and giving her the rod.

Randall was lying face-down on the floor, unmoving. The red light that blinded Daryl to fury was now gone. Both his fists were bloody. He looked down at the kid, most probably dead. He stood up and shook his head, slapped his own cheeks. He had never been this angry. And for what? For a silly, little girl who saved his life.

Daryl checked Randall's pulse; the kid was still alive. He went out of the barn to tell the group what he learned.

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"Are you alright?" Dale approached Emyli, sitting inside of the RV. The rest of the group were outside, awaiting Daryl from his interrogation with Randall.

Dale sat on a chair in front of the girl. Emyli just looked down; she tried to mask her fear with her blank expression and she almost succeeded; but fear peeked through her innocent eyes….

"I am," she told Dale, not feeling a little bit okay.

Dale studied her face closely. "It's Daryl, right? I heard what happened from Andrea."

Emyli did not have a choice but to tell the truth. She nodded.

"But you have always known Daryl's nature," Dale said. "He's rough and tough. He's known for his temper—"

"But he can also be gentle…and caring," Emyli whispered remembering how Daryl stroke her hair to comfort her when she was at the verge of deciding to kill herself.

"And you were not afraid of him," Dale agreed. "Even though he scolded you and pushed you away, you still always managed to end up by his side."

Emyli bit her lower lip. "I guess I never really saw him as a man."

Dale narrowed his eyes, not quite understanding.

"Yesterday was the first time I saw him angry," she explained. "I mean, I saw him sneer and scowl a lot of times but it's almost always just to conceal his real feelings. But yesterday…" Emyli sighed, "I saw my father in him."

Dale was taken aback; now he understood why Emyli was so frightened of Daryl.

"He doesn't have my father's twitching lips," she continued, fear slowly breaking free from her face, "but his eyes…and his hands as he pinned me to the ground and tore my clothes—"

"Daryl didn't do that!" Dale said firmly, concerned. He placed a hand on Emyli's shoulder. "He did not tear your clothes, dear."

Emyli looked at him with tearless eyes, as if asking him if what he said was true.

"It pains him, believe me," Dale said, pulling his hand away from the girl, "when he saw you trembled and scared because of him. Do you know why he was furious? Why he had that vicious look in his eyes when he searched you for bites?"

Emyli slowly shook her head.

"Because he thought he was gonna lose you!" Dale said. "Never mind the stupid paying of debt because you saved him. Daryl was so angry…and scared at the same time because he thought he was going to lose you."

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Daryl approached the group gathered at the camp.

"Thirty men," he announced with gritted teeth, "They have heavy artillery and they ain't looking to make friends. They roll through 'ere, our boys are dead." He turned his head to the sound of people coming out of the RV: Dale and Emyli came out. "And our women they gonna…they're gonna wish they were."

"What did you do?" Carol muttered.

"Had a little chat," Daryl answered.

Rick told the group something about Randall being a threat and eliminating the threat but Daryl could not care less. He was trying to catch Emyli's eyes but she was looking down—and when their eyes finally met, she instantly looked away and followed Carol to the house. He supposed his scowl and bloody fists did not improve the situation.

"Shit," Daryl mouthed as he made his way to his tent, not sure if he cursed because the silly girl was still upset with him—or because it seemed like he actually, truly cared. He did not know what to do; this was the first time he ever felt uncomfortable because of other people's feelings towards him.

An hour after, Daryl saw Rick approaching. He stood up from sharpening his knife in front of his tent.

"Ropes," Rick said, "we need it for Randall. Do you still got some?"

"So it's gonna be the noose, huh? Take some from the bag over there," he pointed his motorcycle. He watched Rick as he took the ropes. "Thanks," Rick said. Daryl was to go back to his task when he called Rick out almost against his own will. "You got a minute?"

Rick made his way back to Daryl's tent. "Something bothering you?" he asked him.

Daryl did not know how to say it; he did not want to say it. "Emyli," he mumbled, looking down and looking shy. "Think I might have done something stupid to her yesterday…."

This made Rick smile. Daryl snorted and decided it was a bad idea to ask people about this problem. He was about to tell him to just forget about it when Rick said: "A flower always goes a long way."

"A flower?" Daryl repeated, frowning.

Rick just nodded, tapped Daryl's shoulder twice and walked away.

The thought of giving the silly girl a flower was unimaginable to Daryl. You give flowers to girls—to ordinary girls, and Emyli was anything but ordinary: A girl who could kick ass and did not cry; a girl who loved her sister so much, she did not have a dream of her own; a girl who asked for a man's underpants without blinking an eye—you do not give flowers to a girl like that….. And it was then that Daryl realized he never actually saw Emyli as girl; she was just…different to him.

"Fuck," Daryl muttered frustratingly, because if it were not flowers, then, what would it be?

Daryl got an idea after a few minutes. He prepared arrows for his crossbow. He was barely done preparing when someone approached him: he scoffed at the sight of Dale.

"The whole point of me comin' up 'ere is to get away from you people," Daryl said.

"Gonna take more than that," Dale answered coolly.

Dale went on, telling Daryl about his "new role in the group".

"I'm better off fending for myself," Daryl told him, "this group is broken."

"You act as if you don't care."

"Yeah? Cause I don't." Daryl took his jacket from the brick pillar and put it on.

"So live or die you don't care what happens to Randall?"

"Nope."

Dale tried to convince him to stand with him and try to save Randall's life if it would not matter to him one way or the other. Dale told him his opinion makes a difference. But Daryl shrugged it off and turned to walk away.

"You cared about Sophia," Dale called out, "cared what it meant to the group. You care about Carol and Emyli." That made Daryl stopped. "Torturing people? That isn't you. You're a decent man!"

Dale told him about how Shane was different. But Daryl already knew too well about Shane killing Otis. Rick knew it as well; he just did not want to know it so he turned a blind eye.

"Like I said," Daryl repeated, "group's broken," and turned his back to Dale once more.

"At least you're gonna make it up to Emyli," Dale said as a last resort, "right?"

"Yeah," he said not looking back, "such a pain in the ass."

Daryl went hunting. There were a lot of squirrels but they were not what he was looking for today. He wanted something bigger. A deer was highly unlikely. Before an hour was over, he got himself a raccoon—clear shot between the eyes.

He brought the raccoon with him as he walked toward the house. He was thinking of something to say. Perhaps something like: I didn't know…but it ain't matter. 'Cept that I would have whipped your dad's dead ass had I known earlier. It sounded very wrong even in his head and it did not tell what he actually felt—except perhaps for the whipping her father's dead ass part. Daryl could feel his anger stirring in him again: It did matter. He could see Emyli's innocent eyes and he still found it hard to believe she experienced that kind of abuse. No wonder she had made herself numb.

But Daryl made her relieve that suffering because he was stupidly harsh. He had asked himself why he had reacted that way when he heard the silly girl was bitten. Yes, he had terrible temper but he was usually level-headed as well. Instead he had rushed to the woods all teeth and claws. And now he needed to—

"Hey!"

Daryl stopped and turned: Glenn and T-Dog walking towards him from the camp.

"Is that fo' dinner?" T-Dog asked hopefully, eying the raccoon.

"You wish," Daryl scowled.

"Yeah, one will not be enough for the whole group," Glenn commented on a serious note.

"I know who that's for," T-Dog said, he could not help but grin. "Tha's for Emyli."

Daryl breathed exasperatedly. "Shu' up," and stepped to walk on.

"Wa-wait!" Glenn called apologetically, stopping Daryl. "Sorry. We're just…restless. We don't know what to do with ourselves with…"

"With a kid to be executed tonight?" Daryl suggested. "It'll be my first night as well."

They were silent for a while.

"Well…" Glenn muttered carefully. "Do you already know what to say to her?"

Daryl frowned at him. "None of yer business." He started walking but T-Dog and Glenn tailed him.

"I'm also not good with these things," Glenn confessed. "I don't know how to tell Maggie—"

"We ain't like you," Daryl snapped at him.

There was something wrong with these people, flocking around him today. Did they not see what he did to that kid? It would take a lot of effort to suppress his anger but if he was to approach her, he better not look like what he did yesterday—so he let the two thugs tail him: with gritted teeth and clenched fists.

"Ain't nobody else sneaks up at night 'cept you two," Daryl added.

"Shit," Glenn blurted, shocked. "You saw us?"

"If you're not like Glenn and Maggie," T-Dog interrupted, "you two are…friends?"

Daryl had to think…were they friends?

"Both of them know how to hunt," Glenn suggested, "and they hunt together. So, hunting partners?"

Daryl shrugged. "Jus' not Glenn and Maggie."

Daryl suddenly stopped and so did T-Dog and Glenn. They saw from afar how Carl walked away from Carol in front of the graves. Then Lori and Rick came from the barn; Carol approached them. Rick ran to Carl while Lori stayed with Carol. Then Emyli came into view; walking with Carol when she turned her back from Lori.

"I always thought she's cute," Glenn said looking ahead.

Daryl's cheek twitched. He felt uncomfortable seeing two men look at Emyli.

"She looks like a doll," T-Dog told Glenn.

"A doll?" Daryl repeated, sneering. He had once thought she looked like an angel. A doll seemed like a ridiculous comparison—

"You know man," T-Dog said, "the one without expressions. The one that looks pretty and scary at the same time."

Now Daryl had to agree.

"Just tell her you're sorry," he heard Glenn said sincerely. Daryl looked at him and realized he had been staring silently at the silly girl for a while. He nodded and started to walk towards Carol and Emyli.

"So the hunter's gonna make the doll smile!" T-Dog teased; finally the two men letting him walk on his own.

Daryl raised his middle finger to T-Dog without looking back.

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Next chapter: Carol confronts Emyli and…Dale's decision.

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Writer's Note:

Hi guys!

So I'm updating today to make up for the previous chapter's late posting.

Please let me know if you think I'm going to fast with Daryl. I just felt it's the right time for him to acknowledge how confused he is and how complicated his relationship with Emyli is.

And since T-Dog compared Emyli to a doll, I think it's also the right time to share with you how I think Emyli looks like.

I posted a link of a picture of my doll cosplaying Emyli on my profile. Do please check it out :)

Did it come close to how you've been imagining Emyli? Let me know :)

Again, thank you so much to these amazing readers who put Walk with Me on their favorite list:

Keckie, Louis Tomlinson Stole My Pants, gabby871

And to these superb followers who followed this story:

Keckie, Louis Tomlinson Stole My Pants, isopt

BIG THANK YOU for those who left a review:

Keckie – thank you so much again for your review I think some of your questions have been answered in this chapter (like if Daryl is gonna make up with Emyli). I hope you enjoyed this chapter.

jalenreedmua – haha, sorry again for the Emyli gets bitten part, I hope you'd like this chapter :)

…and a VERY SPECIAL THANKS to Keckie who left me a review, followed and favorite-ed Walk with Me—and me as an author. Whew! Thank you so much! It was actually because of her that I wanted to post this chapter the soonest

Till next chapter, guys!

(Next chapter comes at most a week from now.)