DARYL'S POV:

We sat in the same place, in the same position for the whole night.

After those first few very loud sobs, her tears became silent, though still present. They leaked from her eyes incessantly, never faltering, the amount constant. She stayed quiet, and normally, I would've loved to have had her shut up. But not this way. This wasn't a nice silence, the kind where she finally ran out of things to say. This was a depressed silence, a silence that threatened to steal my sanity if I didn't hear her say something soon.

She stayed sitting the same way, curled up in my lap with her head rested on my shoulder. One of her hands was pinned between her side and my stomach and the other played with a string poking out of one of the buttons on my shirt.

It wasn't her silence, her stillness, or even Amy's death that frightened me most. It was the look in her eyes when I finally got the nerve to grab her hand and keep her from twirling that string. I grabbed her hand, squeezing gently.

Her eyes shot up to mine and I half expected to see that twinkle she got when she laughed, or the spark of determination when someone told her "no". Instead, it was replaced by a dark, empty apathy. But no, it wasn't even apathy.

If I looked closer, I could see that her pain was only very thinly veiled by an emotionless glaze. Deeper inside, I could see pain. Everyone she knew was getting taken away from her. Her parents, school friends, I had shot Donkey, and now Amy. All she had left in the world was Glenn, and even he was at risk nowadays.

There was also desperation. She didn't want to be here anymore.

She was asking a thousand questions with her eyes. But the prominent one, was "How am I still alive after all I've been through?"

Doubt. It was a crippling emotion, one I knew well. But she was a strong girl. If anyone could pull through this, it was her. But that black hopelessness made my chest hurt.

We had sat the same way all night long, but staring into her eyes seemed to take up a lifetime. Yet it still wasn't enough. I wanted to be able to make that sorrow vanish. I wanted it gone. She wasn't Kaiya with it hanging heavy in the air around her.

I frowned down at her and did something I never thought I would do. I leaned down and kissed her forehead, keeping my lips pressed against her head for longer than was absolutely necessary.

I hoped she knew that it would be okay. I wanted her to understand that from my comforting gesture. Not that I was some old pervert who liked to go around kissing teenagers. But that I honestly cared about her. It scared me to think that I cared about someone other than Merle or myself, but as I thought it, I knew it was true. I would just have to deal with it. I pulled away and looked back down to her.

The tears were falling quicker now, but still she made no sound. I left one hand up by her cheek. She grabbed onto it, holding it tighter to her face as she squeezed her eyes shut. Then I saw the big, dark circles under her eyes. I frowned, but didn't bother telling her to get some sleep; none of us would be able to after tonight.

The invasion of what we thought was a safe area meant only the worst could happen from here. Walkers were moving out of the city, expanding their hunting grounds. Humans were quickly becoming a rarity and they were adapting to that fact without being consciously aware of it. They weren't consciously aware of anything, let alone their instincts.

I realized how unsuitable most of our survivors were for this new world. Kaiya especially. Sure she could handle a weapon and take care of herself. That much was obvious from how far she's made it. But she didn't belong in this world anymore. I'm not saying she belonged in the crowds of walkers wandering the streets of Atlanta either, though. Beauty wasn't something someone expected to find in apocalyptic lands, and therefore seemed out of place. Kaiya was truly beautiful, though I'd never admit that to anyone. To see her anywhere near walkers was a horrifically surreal atrocity.

That blood and those tears didn't belong there. I was sure that tears were a natural thing that should look normal, but those tears were tears for someone lost to the worst imaginable death. And those tears were the only thing in this world that made me sad at this point. That blood, it wasn't supposed to be there. Blood like that didn't belong on a lady's face.

Blood like that, the blood of monsters, didn't belong anywhere, didn't have a place in the world we once knew. Now they were the dominant element of a geographically-the-same world.

I looked up from Kaiya's crying face and gazed out to the horizon. The sun was just beginning to come up, and though we could still hear the sounds of weeping people, the sounds of productive working could also be made out over the deafening silence of grieving.

I tightened my hold on Kaiya and stood, carrying her over to a folding lawn chair. I set her in it and she immediately huddled up in the seat, pulling her legs close to her body.

I frowned once more over my shoulder at her, but turned to go help with the disposal of the bodies.

KAIYA'S POV:

Staying still all night had locked up some of the joints in my body, but at the moment, my mind was occupied with thoughts of my lost friend.

I curled my legs up my chest and wrapped my arms around them as Daryl sat me in one of the chairs that had stayed upright when the walkers came and the panic took over. I could feel him watching me, but eventually the feeling of being watched faded away and I was left alone to my thoughts.

The sun was just coming up, shedding a little light on the gore around us. Like we needed to see any clearer than the small amount we could see last night. That had been enough. Though the sun was coming up, I still felt cold. I wished Daryl was back with me; he had been warm.

But when I cast a look over my shoulder at him, my field of view also took in Amy's body, Andrea's bent over it. I clenched my teeth and squeezed my eyes shut, unsure if I would be able to cry anymore after tonight. It seemed every tear in my body had been used to grieve Amy's death.

I couldn't bring myself to look closer than I had already, just vaguely glimpses in which only her outline or the color of her hair were visible. I didn't plan on getting a better look, either. That would only bring nightmares worthy of Glenn's record.

I sighed and left my eyes shut, turning back around to rest my head against my knees. I wasn't sure who all had been lost in the battle, but while I had been curled up against Daryl, I had caught fleeting glimpses of Rick, Lori, Carl, Sophia, and Carol. Glenn had come by every so often to ask Daryl how I was doing, so I knew he had stayed with me. Alive.

I felt a hand on my shoulder and my head jerked up. I looked beside me to see Glenn standing there, baseball cap in one hand and tears staining his cheeks. Amy had been his friend, too.

I stood up and rounded the arm of the chair so I could hug him.

I looked over his shoulder at the damage, carefully avoiding the lump Andrea was crouched over. Walkers' bodies were laying everywhere, bloody and bent at awkward angles. And then, there were the random camper bodies, bitten into and though they were covered in blood, they were distinctly different than the walkers surrounding them.

I shut my eyes again and pulled out of Glenn's arms. He had been crying on my shoulder. Not sobbing, just crying. A steady, quiet, even flow of tears. He nodded to me and turned to go help out with the bodies.

I tried not to pay attention to anything else, focusing my glares on the ground.

I heard a growl from the direction of Amy's body and jumped. Out of the corner of my eyes, I could see her lifting herself up to Andrea. I knew better than to know she was just waking up and would be all good and fine. Every camper still alive tensed, weapons ready. I sat back down in the chair, pulling my legs up.

I knew what sound would soon follow those guttural snarls. I threaded my fingers through my hair, tears springing surprisingly to my eyes. I gripped my hair, holding on tight no matter how badly it stung. The tears kept running and my head kept stinging, but I didn't care anymore.

I wished more than anything that I could've been the one in Amy's place. Her death had devastated people. Mine would have done that to only Glenn. Maybe Daryl if he could be bothered to show any emotion. And even then, he would only be a little bitter about it.

I pulled and pulled at my hair, going insane with anticipation. Then the gun shot rang out through the air and the growls stopped. After that, everything was near-silent.

I say "near" because I was still crying, and this time, the tears made noise.

DARYL'S POV:

I drove a pickaxe through another walker's brain, wiping the sweat off my face afterwards and leaving Glenn and T-dog to carry it over to the dead people pile.

I noticed Andrea pointing a gun up at Rick. She wouldn't let anyone get near Amy.

I frowned and walked over to the group formed by Dale, Rick, Shane, and Lori. "Ya cant be serious," I muttered. "Y'all cant let that girl hamstring us." I glanced over my shoulder to make sure Kaiya wasn't in hearing distance. "That dead girl is a time bomb."

"What do you suggest?" Rick asked.

I looked over at him. He looked worn out.

Then I took a step forward, making sure he was looking at me. "Take the shot. Clean in the brain. From here. Hell, I can hit a turkey 'tween the eyes from this distance."

"No," Lori said firmly. "For God's sake let her be."

I scowled and turned away, going back to pick-axing zombie brains. I started to help Morales drag one of the lost campers' bodies over to the burn pile, but short round stopped us, preaching some bull about how we were burying the campers. They were all infected, I didn't see how it made a difference. But I hesitantly consented, and drug the body over to the rows of used-to-be-campers.

"Ya reap what ya sow," I muttered as we laid the body down on the ground.

"Shut up, man!" Morales yelled. I stomped away.

"Y'all left my brother for dead! Y'all had this comin'!" I was glad Kaiya didn't seem to be paying attention to anything but Amy's dead body. That comment would've only served to upset her more. Like she needed that.

Jacqui yelled something about Jim getting bit by a walker.

"Show it to us!" I called, circling around Jim with the pickaxe slung over my shoulder.

He kept backing up, trying to defend himself, but T-dog came up behind him and held his arms as I lifted his shirt. There, just below his ribcage, was a crescent shaped indentation, leaking blood.

I let go of him, as did T-dog and he started backing up, muttering, "I'm okay," over and over. Everyone looked around, unsure what to do or think.

We sent Jim to go sit on a bucket just behind the RV. The rest of us, Kaiya and Andrea not included, formed a circle, debating what to do about Jim.

"I say we put a pickaxe in his head," I mumbled. "And the dead girl's and be done with it."

"That what you'd want? If it were you?" Shane asked, glaring at me.

"Yeah, and I'd thank ya while ya did it," I said, glaring right back at him.

"I hate to say it, I never thought I would, but maybe Daryl's right," Dale said. Finally someone with some sense.

"Jim's not a monster, Dale, or some rabid dog," Rick spit, aiming his accusing glares at the dust beneath our feet. Dale started to interrupt, defending himself and me by default. "He's a sick, sick man." Debatable. "We start going down that road, where do we draw the line?" Rick continued, imitating drawing a line with his hand.

"The line's pretty clear," I said. "Zero tolerance for walkers. Or them to-be."

"What if we can get him help?" Rick asked, shifting anxiously on his feet. "I heard the CDC was working on a cure."

"I heard that, too. Heard a lot of things before the world went to hell," Shane countered. It seemed he just liked competing with Rick.

"If the CDC is still up and running-"

"That is a stretch right there," Shane shook his head and looked around.

"Why?" Rick asked, hands on his hips. "If there's any government left, any structure at all, they'd protect the CDC at all costs. Wouldn't they? I think its our best shot."

I looked around at everyone. No one really seemed to disagree on the location of our next "Safe area" as long as this time, it really was safe. And even I didn't care as long as we got away from here.

"Protection," Rick said, listing off what we could have if the CDC was still operational.

"Rick, you want those things, I do, too," Shane started. "Now if they exist, they're at the military base at Fort Benning."

"That's a hundred miles in the opposite direction," Lori said, narrowing her eyes skeptically at Shane.

"That is right, but it is away from the hot zone. Now listen, if that place is operational, it will be heavily armed. We'd be safe there."

Rick began making a valid argument against Shane about the military getting overrun, but I wasn't paying attention anymore; I was looking contemptuously over my shoulder at where Jim sat cowering.

I gripped the pickaxe tighter in my hand and started backing up. "Y'all go look for aspirin, do what ya need to do. But somebody needs to have some balls and take care of this damn problem!" I yelled, bringing my axe up.

Jim shrunk back, but impact never came. I stopped the swing when I heard Rick cock his gun right next to my head.

"We do not kill the living," Rick said firmly as Shane slipped in between me and Jim.

I turned slowly to look at him and then lowered the axe. "That's funny," I said in a low voice. "Comin' from a man who just put a gun to my head." I started to walk away, surprised Kaiya hadn't heard all this commotion yet and looked up from her huddle.

"We may disagree on some things," Shane said. "Not this. You put it down."

I sneered at him and threw the pickaxe to the ground.

I went back to putting pick axes through the heads of the dead after a while, and I was about to do it to that Ed guy, the one that beat his kid and wife.

But then Carol came up to me. "I'll do it," she said.

I was surprised. She was an awfully small one, I wasn't sure she could hold the thing up.

When I didn't hand it over immediately, she said, "He was my husband."

I looked down at the sorry bastard and nodded, handing it over.

She let a few tears out before she shouldered the pickaxe. Then she started driving it through his head. It seemed like she was using all her anger at him to fuel this. It was even making me a little sick, and I pride myself on my strong stomach.

I walked back toward the other campers to get some water. I was about to walk over to Kaiya and see if she was alright when I heard something. It sounded like a walker.

Kaiya heard it, too, but she didn't look like we did. She already knew.

Amy was leaning up off the ground, blood smeared on her skin and clothes. And she was awake.

I started to walk forward with Rick and Shane, and out of the corner of my eye, I could see Kaiya clutching at her head, like everyone was talking too loud. Then Andrea shot. Amy had been put down.

Almost everything was silent, but Kaiya's weeping.

I wanted to go sit by her, or talk to her. But I knew that would do no good. Nothing could make this better.