As The World Falls

Summary:

Life used to be relatively simple. We were born. We lived. We loved. We cried. We died. It was the only constant life provided for us. Relationships are form ed. Some are broken. Families thrive, while others fell apart. We took the good feelings along with the bad. Life used to have so much to offer.

Now life is not so simple. No. Now the world is much darker, filled with very little hope.

Author's Note: This story will eventually grow into a Daryl/OC. I know, there are plenty out t h ere, but I want to take my shot at it . The story is going to be a long one, many chapters, but will be broken up i n to different Parts, following the Seasons . Th is story follows my OC and her small group of friends as they come across the refugee camp. At least give it a chance and leave a review, let me kn ow what you like about the story and what you don't like about it. I am planning on keeping i t as original as I can while maintaining the original story line.


Part One
Chapter Fourteen
Nonplussed


(adj) 1. confuse, perplex


The water is too hot. Not that I dislike it. I prefer it this way. Jamie used to tease me, saying that I take showers hot enough to boil skin from bone. Sometimes, he even joked that I did it on purpose, that I meant for it to hurt.

But it doesn't hurt. Maybe it isn't for everyone, but feeling the red hot flush spread across my body, the water raining down over my shoulders and back, I feel the tension recede from my aching body. Everything hurt. My muscles melt, the dull pain mounting as if the muscles are being stretched in a permanent stance. My head pounds with the subtle thump of my pulse beating against my temple. My head feels heavy, much too heavy for my neck and shoulders to bear the weight. My heart feels hollow, empty, as if striped of everything that had ever mattered.

When the tar swirling down the drain begins to run clear, I move out of habit, soaping and washing every inch of me. Never scrubbing too hard, but just enough to clear away the black-crimson staining my body. As the darkness washes away, my pale skin slowly appearing before my eyes, I wonder what the other refugees thought while seeing me caked in Walker blood and guts. It is anything, but pleasant to gaze upon. Turning off the water, I dry off in the shower before wrapping the towel around my body.

Stepping out of the shower, I pause at the sink. A shaking hand reaches up, swiping across the steam-covered mirror. Instinctively, I wince at the sight of my reflection. I...don't look normal. Same old hazel-gold eyes, dulled and passive, missing what little life they once held. My damp brown hair seems to stick to the shape of my head and face, less unkempt than usual, but shining with a clean appearance. The black bags pulling at the bottom of my eyelids only seems to mock the paleness of my complexion. The left side of my face is an ugly collage of purple, green and yellow bruising and I'm surprised how small the cut along my temple is. Head wounds do tend to bleed excessively though.

Heaving a sigh, my fingers running through my damp hair, I push away from the sink and exit the bathroom. With my mind numb and heavy with the burdens of my memories, I never realize the lack of privacy as I turn away from closing the door. Feeling my body slam into another, I ready to catch myself, but find myself tensing when a pair of strong hands grab my shoulders, gently leaning me against the wall. Shuddering at the feel of calloused fingers brushing along my hypersensitive skin, I snap out of my thoughts, looking up at the other person.

My chest tightens, as if a vice grips it snugly. Blue eyes burning, smoldering with a gleam I've never come across before. I shiver again, unsure if its from the cool air filling the building. Or if it is from the thumbs gently brushing over the skin along my shoulders. My head spins, the hearty mixture of woodland scents, faint traces of sweat and something more...raw. More masculine. My eyes slide shut as my chest expands, despite the tightness gripping it firmly, taking in the scent and touch. Opening my eyes, I slowly witness awareness creep into those blue eyes and eventually, the smoldering gaze drains from them. The hands gripping my shoulders snatches away from me, as if my skin burns at the touch, and I heave a sturdy breath when Daryl practically stumbles backwards, his eyes wide and an odd redness coloring his cheeks and the tips of his ears.

"Watch where yer goin'."

Hearing the hissed words leave his lips, I can feel the instinctive flinch show visibly as I shrink back. I've heard that tone before. Never from Daryl. No. That tone is reserved for certain members crowding my wretched memories. My fingers curl into tight fists, the instinct to protect myself at the forefront of my mind.

"It's called an accident, Daryl," I snap in return, fingers tightening just briefly, "Last time I checked, you had two eyes that work fine. You could have easily and equally avoided this."

"Maybe y'shouldn't be walkin' 'round this place practically naked," Daryl sneers out, eyes burning with anger, his face growing a darker shade of red with each passing minute.

Glancing down, I peer at my towel-clad body. His words cause an odd clenching to form in my stomach. Well...what was once my stomach. I miss my fuller figure. I had never been skin and bones, but hadn't been over weight either. No. Healthy. My legs are more lean as well, most likely from all the running. Even my own body feels different. Looks different. I don't blame him for his words. If this version of me met the old me from three years ago, the old me would have punched me for losing her figure.

"Oh," I muse outwardly, chuckling humorlessly, "I...guess I see your point. Um..." I shift, feeling the once relaxed nerves growing with nervous tension, "I...guess I'm sorry."

"What?"

Looking up, I met his gaze, confusion apparent on his features, but the irritated anger clouds his vision, "I...I said sorry. I didn't think about grabbing clothes. Um...I'm going to go now."

Rushing back to the office I'm occupying, I slam the door behind me.

WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT? The thought screeches in my head, causing my hand to raise to my temple, massaging it tenderly. Since when have I ever been self-conscious? Grabbing at the barely-damp hair along the back of my head, I groan and curse my nervous tension. I hate it! I curse. Daryl's probably going to think I'm being a stupid girl, shoving fingers down my throat and wasting what little food we can get. Why do I have to be so damn stupid? I hate it. Why can't I control my body? Why can't I get a grip?

I can't be that bad to look at, can I?


Hearing a knock sound against the door, I let out an absentminded grunt, looking up from the page of the book. Rick's softened gaze greets me as he requests entrance. Tilting my head, wondering what I could have possibly done to warrant such a visit, I nod slowly, marking my spot in the book before closing it. Rick takes a seat at the desk, the chair turned around so he can look at me.

"Is something wrong?" I ask, sitting up from my lounging position.

Rick smiles, as if amused by my concern, and shakes his head, "No. I just haven't had the chance to talk to you since Atlanta. I wanted to make sure you are doing okay?"

Tilting my head, I feel my brow crinkle in confusion, "Why would you worry about me?"

"I'll admit it, I wasn't sure of you at first, but...you've proven you are a valuable member of this group," Rick replies, my eyes widening at his words, "You faced Atlanta, trying to save a man you barely tolerated, simply because leaving him behind was wrong and you are friends with his brother," I nod slowly, everyone knew that, "You did what very few of us have the stomach to do," Natasha. "You protect every member of this group as if they are family, even if you hardly speak to any of them." Outside. "I worry because you seem to be...collapsing under the pressure."

"You have no idea," the monotonous words leave my lips before I can stop them and a shaky, half-smile tugs at my lips as I lift my bare, clean hands for him to see, "I damn near forgot how pale my skin is. I hope my actions and how I appeared didn't frighten your boy." Rick's eyes glimmer with surprise by my words, "Carl's a good kid. Helps me keep Mel occupied when I need to do something around camp. I hope I didn't frighten him."

"Why would he be scared of you?"

"Because I am," I admit softly, my gaze dropping back to my lap, "I feel like...I'm not me anymore. It's harder to laugh. Like...every chance I get...it is ruined because I can't wait it out and let things take their course. No. I jump headfirst without second thought."

"If it helps, I think it is something I admire," I blink in surprise, my eyes turning up at Rick, who nods slowly at my questioning look, "I worry over every person in this group that I have to think every possibility over before making a decision."

"That's why you're the leader of this rag-tag group," I point out, seeing his own self-doubt flicker with shock, "My recklessness will most likely get me killed, or make me do something stupid. A group like this, barely held together by the seams, doesn't need someone like me leading them. Hell...I wouldn't have a clue what to do," I nod at the slight embarrassment on his face, "You...you remain calm in a moment of stress. You are level-headed and command with ease. I don't even think Colt could do a better job, and he was military."

Rick smiles warmly and I feel oddly accomplished when the doubt flickers out of his eyes, "You are very kind, Charlie. If you ever need to talk and don't want it to be with Daryl or those brothers of yours...you are more than welcome to come to me."

Tilting my head, I nod slowly, "I do have something on my mind...something my brothers would deny and I'm not sure how to ask. Hell...I don't even know if its the right thing to ask." Rick remains silent, eyes encouraging and I swallow, shifting in my seat. "Is there...anything? Uh..." I trail off, looking down, hating the nervousness shaking my body, "Is there anything...about me that...that someone might find...likable?"

"Likable?"

Nodding slowly, I lick my quivering lips, "Likable as in something that is...uh...attractive?" I cringe at the sight of his eyes widening, the shock apparent on his features, "You don't have to answer, but...I just want an unbiased opinion on the matter. My brothers would tell me what they think I want to hear. And I...I honestly have never asked someone this before."

A softness, a look I have yet to see directed at anyone other than his own family, tugs along Rick's features, "Charlie," Slowly and gently, his hands come to rest on my shoulders, completely ignoring the tension in my body as he keeps his tone low, "You are unconventional and an individual in every way the word encompasses. I won't lie and say most people would look at you and be able to see pass the piercings and tattoos, and sadly, I am one of those people," I shift, but his grip tightens only briefly around my shoulders, "But the fact is, is that I have had a chance to see beyond your image and I can honestly say, yes. You carry a modern-feel of classic attraction. Like Aubrey Hepburn."

At his words, I feel my body, for the first time, in a long time, relax in the grasp of another and a warm smile, a real smile, stretches across my lips, "Thank you, Rick. You're...not so bad yourself."

"Alright. Dinner is in thirty minutes. We're all eating together so you better not skip out like I've been told you do."

Giving him a mocking salute, I watch as he exits the room as silently as he arrived. Hm? Who would of thought? Charlie Livingston making friends with cops?


"Rick said y'promised to attend dinner."

Snapping the book closed, I stand up from the love seat and shove by Daryl. As a hand falls on my shoulder, an action I'm becoming sick of pretty fast, I whirl around, arm cocked back and hand clenched into a fist. Seeing him immediately remove his hand and take a step back, I recognize the annoyance flashing in his gaze.

"What?" I demand curtly.

He heaves a heavy sigh before nodding slowly, "M'sorry. Y'caught me off guard, is all. I...I ain't ever..."

Realizing where the conversation is heading and seeing him trying to force out the words, I raise a hand, fingers pressing over his parted lips, "Just...can we chalk this up to you being an ass and me being an idiot for letting it bother me?"

"Sure," he murmurs, his voice sending vibrations through my fingertips, before he reaches up, his fingers curling around my own, pulling them from his face, "Let's get down there before Officer Friendly gets pissy."

My nod of silent response freezes when his hand brings my fingertips back to his lips. Chaste. Quick. Completely meaningless. My hand drops as he releases it before he turns and saunters off. It...was almost like he didn't even think about doing it. As if it was just natural. But that's not right. Daryl has never shown affection toward anyone, friendship toward me, but...surely no?

Yet, watching his retreating figure, my fingertips tingling from touching the chapped lips, I wonder if it was as meaningless as most would view it as.


Rick/Charlie interaction with a dash of angry/affectionate Daryl? Do you think his reaction is canon, or did I not let his anger stew long enough? I figured he reacted more out of shock at pressing a towel-clad Charlie against a wall instinctively. Hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Slightly angsty but remember, Charlie is affected by her nerves in a physical and psychological manner. So...her thoughts ramble, questioning situations and why things happen the way they do with her. Reviews = Cupcakes...Author likes Cupcakes! Cupcakes makes Author hyper. Hyper-Author writes more! See pictures?

For my Followers (who some know I refer to as Minions) Thanks to each of you:

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Coming Next Chapter: Dinner with the gang! Charlie and Daryl plan on getting Glenn and Isaac hammered! What happens? (No demands for sex...I'm making this realistic) A game of 'I've never' drains a bottle pretty quick when it comes to the four-some. What questions are asked? Not writing until...about eight tonight, update most likely done by nine, so those who get a chance, review, give questions you want answered or questions you might find amusing!

THANKS AGAIN! You guys are awesome! Leave reviews and let me know what you think! Cupcakes are golden tickets!