I keep saying this but, sorry! It's been hellish. I've had so many assignments and I'd rather not fail so this fanfic had to take a backseat.

I've also come to the realisation that this is such a bad fanfic. I know I can write better then this. I know I can what with being a creative writing student who gets good grades. Also, I struggle with grammar so thats why I miss stuff in fanfic all the time. But, oh well. It's not like I'm making money from this :p

Okies, so I'm really going out of Daryl's character here. I wanted to show just how messed up his brothers death made him. They don't really touch much on it in the show. You'll probably hate it because I do too. But I wanted something big to happen.

Chapter 14.

I was helping Hershel treat the wounded while the others got the people from Woodbury settled. There were only small cuts and scraps, but I was exhausted. Maybe that's why I accidentally cut the heel of my hand while cutting the thread to Michonnes stitches.

"Mother fucker!" I grabbed a rag to staunch the bleeding and jumped around. "Fuck, fuck fuck."

"You ok?" Michonne laughed at me.

"Yea." I assessed the damage. I'd need stitches. I giggled at my clumsiness.

"Good job I'm here." Hershel patted my shoulder, having come over at my cursing.

"I'll check in with the others." Michonne hurried away, still chuckling. Taking my hand in his, Hershel took her vacated seat.

"How are you feeling?" he dabbed my wound with antiseptic, I hissed in pain.

"Fine." he chuckled slightly.

"You're worried about him aren't you? You always worry about that one. You should concentrate on yourself for once." I sighed.

"I guess. I'm just a worrier... Ouch!" I exclaimed when the needle pierced my skin, the flesh slowly coming back together.

"You have a caring heart. It's a refreshing thing to see in this hellish world. A thing to be treasured. All done." he wrapped a bandage around my palm

"Thank you. Have you seen Rick around?" he scratched his beard.

"Think he was with the new people getting them settled in." I nodded, kissed him on the cheek and made my way to the other cellblock.

He was talking to a small group of the new guys, telling them about the fence and guard duty. I waited until he was finished.

"Rick." I gestured him to the side of the room, away from the others. "I can't leave it any longer." he nodded solemnly. "He won't be far. My guess is the bar down the road."

"Go. If you aren't back in two hours we'll be coming after you." I nodded my head in return and made my preparations to leave.

...

There were downed walkers around the bar. A lot of them. I gingerly stepped over them and pushed open the door.

His back was facing me as he leant against the bar. He peered over his shoulder at me; his eyes were ringed by dark circles.

"Surprised it took you this long to follow me." He poured himself another whiskey, then reached behind to bar and produced another glass.

"You needed time alone. But you've been gone for a whole day and I was worried." I perched myself on the bar and took the chipped glass offered to me.

"You need to stop worrying about me. Ain't gunna let a walker munch on me."

"That wasn't what worried me. You've just lost your brother."

"I know. I was there." he growled at me, necked his drink and poured another. I placed my hand gently on his shoulder, trying to sooth him. He moved so fast, grabbing my wrist and squeezing it tightly. "Don't pretend that you ain't happy he's dead. I know he was a son of a bitch but he was family."

His face was so close to mine, his eyes dark with anger and alcohol, teeth slightly bared. His nails dug into my fresh bandage.

"We're your family too." I gasped out, trying to keep the tears of pain out of my eyes. His jaw clenched tightly as he released my hand and walked away from me. I looked down and saw blood spreading through the white material. I concealed it behind my back. He'd feel guilty if he knew he'd hurt me.

"You're a bunch of people I got stuck with. Merle was blood. I'd rather be with him then you."

"You don't mean that. You're better then that, better then him."

"Yeah, I mean it." I gently stroked his hair out of his face but again he lashed out. My back was slammed roughly against the wall.

"Daryl? What are you doing?" he pressed me harder against the wall.

"I'm doing what I want. Maybe I'm more like my brother then you think." he glared down at me but there was no power behind it. What was his purpose?

He pressed his body closer to mine, too close.

"Daryl. Stop. This isn't you." I placed my hand gently on his chest at the flash of self-loathing on his face, but he shook his head and pinned my wrist against the wall. I could feel my bandage was soaked with my own blood.

"This is the real me." and then he crushed his lips to mine.

I had thought about this moment before. I had thought I would welcome this kind of physical interaction with him. I trusted him. But this felt all wrong. It felt forced.

His free hand moved shakily from my shoulder to my waist where it paused over my scar. He paused in his movements and took a breath. But he shook his head, took a deep breath and kissed me again. I tried to ignore the flashes of memory from the last time I had been touched like this. Daryl wouldn't hurt me.

"Why aren't you fighting?" He snapped as he struck the wall either side of my head.

"Because you won't go through with it." I saw the confirmation in his eyes.

"You don't know me as well as you think." He kissed me again and started moving his hands up my sides.

I bit down on his lip, hard enough to draw blood.

"Fuck!" he moved back slightly but his body still pinned mine to the wall. "What the hell?"

"I know what you're trying to do. It won't work."

"Then why are you shaking?" his gaze was steady.

"That's beside the point. You want to scare me away. You don't want to lose anyone else who is close to you. So you're trying to make me fear you. You want me to think you're just like the men that attacked me."

He gazed into my eyes. Then I saw the self-loathing, but no regret.

"And did I succeed?" a flair of hope tinged his eyes, but the hate remained.

"You never will." I smiled weakly at him. "I know you Daryl. You wouldn't hurt me."

He rested his head on my shoulder, while I ran my fingers gently through his hair. Our breathing calmed down as I pushed him away slightly and whipped the blood off his lip.

"I'm sorry. " I frowned.

Suddenly the regret flooded his eyes that were now damp with tears.

"Don't." I croaked out, my voice thick with my own emotions. "I understand." he pushed away from me and ran his hands through his hair.

"No, you don't understand. I can't lose you. I've lost too many people. I don't think I could lose any more." I tried to hug him but he didn't return the embrace.

"You're strong." He scoffed. "You are. After everything you've been through, you're still fighting. You haven't let it drag you down." he breathed heavily and seemed to wilt as he embraced me back.

"I don't feel strong now."

"Of course you won't. You've just lost your brother." his hand moved to my hair.

"What would I do without you?"

"You would be bored for one thing." he huffed slightly in amusement.

A sudden banging at the door brought us back to the present.

"That's our cue to leave." I said.

It didn't take much effort to down the walkers. We were back at the prison in no time.

Hershel took one look at my bandage and scolded me for ruining it. Daryl went to clean up while Hershel cleaned my wound. It stung to high heaven, but I could handle it.

I dragged my feet up to my cell, unsurprised that he was perched on my bed.

"I'm sorry." he whispered. I held my hand up before he could continue.

"You have nothing to apologise for." he frowned at my hand.

"What happened?"

"I cut myself. No big deal." He rubbed his face and leant back.

"I made it worse didn't i?" I knelt in front of him and took his hands.

"No, I'm fine. You're staying here tonight. No arguments." he nodded. He draped a hand over his eyes while I quickly changed.

We didn't speak again that night. We just lay in silence while I stroked his hair until he eventually fell asleep.

I hope you guys can see what I tried to do with Daryl. I don't think for one second he would do anything like that but he isn't in his right mind and he just wants to make barriers to protect him from further harm. Poor Daryl has lost so much.

I am working on the next chapter, its getting a little tricky as the story is at the point of the season break. But I'm going to get both Daryl and Sarah to branch off from each other a little and make stronger friendships with others from the group.

I've said at the start that this will turn into a romantic piece. Believe me, the romance is coming but I always like to build a foundation so the romance is realistic and worth waiting for. I've had the perfect time for them to realise their feelings since before I first publish this story. I will say that it will be about where the TV show's midseason 4 is.

I also have big plans on where this story is going now that season 5 is over. Our boy is still alive! Whoop! Also been coming up with other ideas for Daryl fanfic but can't properly plan that until I see what's happening in season 6.

I hope you liked this chapter. Sorry for the long authors note. Please please review. I'd really like to hear from you.

Peace out!