Daryl stopped his bike on the road, behind the car that Lizzie had parked on the driveway. He looked up at the house and was relieved when he saw nothing out of place.
Looks safe enough, he thought as he dismounted, checking his weapons, she should be fine. When he was satisfied with his weaponry- he had his crossbow, a hunting knife and a gun, just in case –he made his way to the front door.
It creaked ominously as he opened it and he stepped inside.

He stepped over the dead walker in the lounge, looking down at her handiwork as he did so, before his attention was drawn to the photos on the side. He picked the first one up and scowled, it showed Lizzie standing in front of a building, holding a piece of paper out and laughing while a man- typically tanned, tall, muscular and handsome –held his own sheet out in front of him while his arm was snaked around Lizzie's shoulders.
"Looks like a douche." Daryl muttered, dropping the photo back on the side and moving to the bigger frame on the side.
He found himself looking at Lizzie when she was a child, sitting on her mother's knee while her father held another littler girl and an older boy stood behind them.
As he studied it, he heard a crash from above him and he dropped it down quickly, hurrying to the staircase.

As he made his way up as quickly and quietly as he could, he noticed the dark smudges on the carpet under his feet and he wondered what it was that had left them there.
When he reached the top, he stood still, listening out for a sound that would tell him which way he needed to go. He narrowed his eyes, leaning to the left as he thought he heard something that sounded like…
Cryin' again? He thought, stepping towards the open door, I hate it when she cries…
He wasn't quite sure what to expect when he found her but he was ill prepared for the scene that met his eyes.

Lizzie was on the floor, her back leaning against the bed and her head bowed, her body shaking violently with silent sobs, holding something to her chest. He frowned, stepping towards her when he realized the crash had been her falling to the floor, but stopped short when he saw what she was holding.
It was the body of her sister.
He stood there silently, staring down at her, not sure what to do or what to say and, after a few seconds, she looked up at him.
As she raised her face to look at him, tears still streaming down her cheeks, her nose a bright, shiny red, she lowered the body away from her and he watched it roll in her arms, revealing the spot at the back of the child's skull that was smashed in. His mind flickered back to the blooded snow globe he'd noticed in the doorway and he realized what she'd done.

"I never meant to hurt her," Lizzie said quietly, looking up at him pleadingly, "you gotta believe me, it was all an accident, a horrible accident… I didn't know that the bite… I had no idea she'd…"
As he slowly knelt besides her, looking down at the body in her arms, she continued.
"It bit her arm, I thought she'd be okay coz it wasn't life threatening, not like dad's bite," she shook her head, "I jus' bandaged her up an' told her she'd be fine an' she was!" She let out another sob, pulling the body against her again, "She was fine all day, jus' her normal self, an' we were plannin' on what we were gonna do an' where we were gonna go… Then that night…"
She shook her head and looked over at him with such pain in her eyes that he wanted to take her in his arms and hold her like she was holding her sister… But he couldn't.
"I woke up with her climbin' on me, I thought she was jus' foolin' around an' I tried to push her off but she wouldn't budge an' when I opened my eyes," she closed her eyes, trying to picture it again in her mind, "she tried to fuckin' bite me. I freaked out an' I tried to get away but she wouldn't let go," her lip wobbled, "I managed to grab the snow globe before I went down an' I jus' hit her, over an' over, 'til she let go of me."
"She was turned, there was nothin' you could've done," he said quietly, shaking his head, "you did what you hadda do to survive."
"But she was my sister!" Lizzie shouted, a fresh wave of tears taking her, "She was my baby sister an' I bashed her fuckin' brains in!"

She bought her hand up to her mouth as soon as she'd spoken as if it had been the first time she'd said aloud to herself.
"I killed her," she said whispered, looking down at the body in her arms and stroking the long dark hair that was so similar to her own, "then I ran away."
"You did what you had to," he repeated, touching her shoulder gently, "you can't…"
He was cut off when she suddenly grabbed hold of his shirt and pulled him towards her, wrapping her arm around his shoulders as she buried her head in his chest and sobbed.
For a second he froze, not sure of what to do but then he put his crossbow down and awkwardly put his arm around her. He patted her head gently with his other hand in a 'there, there' kind of way but when her sobbing didn't subside, her found himself stroking her hair in an attempt to soothe her.

"You gotta stop beatin' yourself up," he said quietly, running his fingers through her hair, "s'all about stayin' alive now, s'all that matters in the world."
She mumbled something unintelligible against his chest and he frowned.
"What?" He asked, trying to lean back and look down at her slightly.
"S'all that matters?" She repeated, lifting her head and showing him the mess of emotion on her face, "At what fuckin' cost?" She shrugged slightly, "Bein' haunted by this shit for the resta my fuckin' life? Is it really worth it?"
"You really feel like that?" He asked, shaking his head in amazement, "That you might as well be dead too?"
"Why the fuck not?" She asked, "I've lost everyone an'…"
"Don't gimme that shit," he snapped, grabbing her chin in his hand and angling her face so she couldn't look away, "I'm still here, ain't I?" He let go of her as more tears fell from her eyes, "You're lookin' at it wrong, they were already dead, she was already dead, an' you jus' laid 'em to rest… You did 'em a favor."

It was Lizzie's turn to frown then because she knew Daryl was right. She was looking at it all wrong, it hadn't been her fault that the world hadn't waited to end around them before she got home, it wasn't her fault that, once bitten, the infection was irreversible and it wasn't her fault that her family had imploded… But she'd been telling herself every day that it was all her fault and, somewhere along the line, she'd begun to believe it- she knew that she couldn't think differently overnight but she also knew she needed to take that first step into moving on with her life and coming back here was how she was going to do it.
As she sat there, her gaze lowered from Daryl's face, she noticed the wet patch she'd left on his shoulder.
"Oh shit," she sniffed, wiping her eyes with her hand, "I've gone an' snotted all over your shirt!"
He knew it wasn't an appropriate time to laugh but there was just something in the way she'd said it that struck him as amusing. He tried to keep his smile in control but his lip twitched involuntarily.
Lizzie noticed and, for some unknown reason, she let out a sharp burst of giggles. She slapped her hand over her mouth, her eyes wide with surprise, and looked up at him, embarrassed by her sudden outburst.
Daryl finally smirked at her wide eyed expression and as she lowered her hand, he saw her half smile and they both laughed quietly together for a few seconds.

"I must be losin' my fuckin' mind." She sighed, smiling sheepishly as she pulled away from him and turned her attention back to the body in her arms.
"You an' me both girl," he agreed, pulling his arm from her shoulders and sighing, "y'ain't leavin' the farm for good, areya?"
"I haven't thought that far ahead," she shrugged, "Hershel won't be too happy if I rock back up though, right?"
"Hershel ain't there," he said, watching as she looked at him in surprise, "Maggie said he'd disappeared, she needed him to help her with Beth an'…"
"Is Beth okay?" Lizzie asked, cutting him off.
"She collapsed or somethin', I dunno what happened, I came to find you," he shrugged, watching her reaction, "they need you, y'know?"
"They need their dad." She scowled, shaking her head.
"I need you," he said quietly, dropping his gaze as she looked at him, "don't ask me why coz I don't fuckin' know but…" he saw her smile slightly as he looked at her again, "lemme take you back."
"There's one las' thing I gotta do first," she said quickly, looking back down at her sister, "then that's it… I'm done here."

He looked up, checking out the window at the darkening sky, knowing they didn't want to hang around out here much longer- it wouldn't be as safe after dark and he didn't want to take the risk of staying out too long.
"Okay," he nodded, standing up, "we're losin' light so…" he sighed, not wanting to tell her to hurry, "anythin' I can do to help?"
"Can you grab my bag? An' my jacket?" She asked, motioning to the desk at the foot of the bed. He nodded and moved towards them. Lizzie looked down at her sister again and sighed, "C'mon Belle, let's get this done."
Daryl watched her as she stood and stepped back, allowing her to pass. She was cradling her sister in her arms and he watched as she faltered slightly in the doorway, looking down at the snow globe one last time before she made her way down the hallway.
He followed her into the other bedroom, his crossbow on his back and her jacket and bag in his hands, and he stopped when he saw the spectacle before him on the bed- he'd almost forgotten about her parents.
She saw him staring and she cleared her throat, drawing his attention to her.

"He turned in bed, he was already dyin' here when I got back," she shrugged and turned her gaze back to the bed, "I figured it was easier to bring her up here rather than try to drag him downstairs."
"You hauled her up here?" He asked, surprised when she nodded. His eyes fell on her axe and the almost empty bottle of vodka, "How much of that have you had?"
"It was half empty when I found it," she shrugged, moving towards the bed, "I needed some Dutch courage, y'know?"
When he smirked in response she looked away, focusing on the task at hand. She lowered the body of her sister into the space between her parents, arranging her comfortably and brushing her hair out her eyes.
"Hey Belle," she whispered as she looked down at her sister, "better to be with mom an' dad again, right? I never meant to leave you on your own an'…" she felt the tears beginning to well up in her eyes again, "Well, I never meant for any of this to happen baby, this ain't how it was supposed to be."
She moved to the bedside table, pulling something out the drawer and sliding it into her pocket.
"I'd give anythin' if I could take it back an' get here earlier an' stop daddy from gettin' bit an'… An' jus' be with you guys again," the tears fell from her eyes, dripping onto her shirt, "I miss you so much, I always did but now… Now you're really gone."

She took a few deep breaths, trying to gain her composure and reached for the bottle, taking another hefty swig of its contents before offering it to Daryl. He eyed it for a second before shrugging and taking it from her, also taking a swallow of the clear liquid inside.
"I'm sorry," she said, reaching for her axe and holstering it before she held her hand out for the bottle, "but it don't matter how much I say that, right? What's done is done an' I gotta lay you to rest properly."
When she felt the cool glass in her hand, she unscrewed the top and proceeded to empty the remaining contents over the bodies of her family in the bed. She then pulled the lighter she'd taken out the drawer from her pocket and flicked it open.
"Goodbye." She whispered as she threw it on the bed.

The alcohol caught quickly and the sheets were ablaze soon after. She stood there, watching as the fire engulfed her family, turning their rotting flesh and bones to ashes, crying silently to herself.
Daryl stayed behind her, knowing that she needed to do this by herself. He was surprised how hard he was finding it to stand apart from her while she was clearly so upset- all he wanted to do was hold her, try to comfort her and stop her from crying… But he didn't think he could.
When she finally turned around, fixing him with a gaze that was just empty and hollow, he almost reached out for her.
"Let's go," she said flatly, shrugging as he looked over her shoulder at the flames, "let it burn, it's not like anyone's comin' back here."
He let her take her things off him, sliding the jacket on before hanging the bag off her shoulder, before she left the room and headed downstairs.
She stopped at the bottom and took her bag off, slipping the family photograph inside before walking straight to the front door.

When they got outside, Daryl stepped in front of her.
"Y'ain't drivin' after all that drink," he said, shaking his head, "I got my bike, we'll come an' fetch the car in the mornin'," he started to walk towards his ride, "don't want you havin' any accidents or…" he turned to look at her but she wasn't behind him, "Lizzie?"
He saw her walking down the street, heading towards the collecting walkers that were being drawn to the light and scent of the fire in her house. She drew her axe and began swinging, slicing through skulls, destroying brains and executing decapitations with uncanny accuracy.
He stood still, watching her for a moment and, just as before when they'd been in the woodland and she'd attacked the walkers after the deer, he was struck by how dangerously beautiful she was. He let out a deep sigh, knowing that she needed to blow off steam but also knowing that she'd get overrun before she was through and moved towards her.

"Hey," he said as he stepped over the trail of bodies, grabbing her arm and pulling her back before she stepped into range of the next three walkers, "we gotta go."
"No," she tried to pull free, "there's still too many of 'em, I need to…"
"You can't kill 'em all," he snapped, pulling her harder, "you need to let it go."
He watched as her breathing began to even out and she nodded, putting the axe back into its holster and turning to face him, her eyes on the ground.
"C'mon." He said, letting go of her arm and sliding his hand into hers, dragging her back to his motorcycle.
When they reached it, he motioned for her to get on. She stiffened a little, turning her head slightly to look back at her house but then thinking better of it, closing her eyes instead and swinging her leg over the back of his bike.
When he climbed on, she wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her cheek against his back, letting the tears come for what she hoped would be the last time.