*All right, heads up here, this is a really long chapter. This isn't typically, but I promise that this chapter is filled with lots of good stuff. That's why it's so long :) This is the end of Season 2 of TWD and then I'll be focusing on that time with the group on the road before jumping into Season 3. Reviews are always appreciated! Enjoy!*
Aria's POV
"Daryl!"
I watch the monster pull out the blood-soaked knife from his gut, those blue eyes finding mine in the dark, flooded with a thousand unspoken thoughts. The demon pushes Daryl back, his body falling to the ground as he desperately clutches at his stomach to staunch the flow of blood. Every muscle protests, but I push on; forcing my screaming muscles to move so I can get to him. The demon turns away from Daryl and with the slightest twist of his wrist he has me on the ground again, crying out in pain as my stomach feels like it's ripped from my body.
"Daryl," I call, but his name comes out in a pained moan instead.
Zepar takes his time making his way towards me, the night air filled with screams of agony, gunfire, and walker's hungry moans for food. My face is buried in the sharp gravel, the small rocks cutting at my face as I gasp for breath. I look up, gripping at the hard ground to pull myself to Daryl's unmoving form.
This is your fault. You have to protect him.
The demon watches my pathetic attempt, pushing me to my back with his foot. "I'm gonna get a nice promotion bringing your pitiful ass in," he sneers, reaching down to grip the front of my shirt. He lifts me up, our faces inches away as those blue eyes glaze over in a haunting white.
12 Hours Earlier
Fingertips dance in circles along my exposed stomach, sending ticklish sensations over my body. They travel all over my skin, drawing swirls all the way up to my rib cage and all the way down to the waistband of my jeans. I open my eyes to the harsh morning sun that spills in from the bedroom window.
Daryl's hand continues its journey over my body, his fingers grazing over my sides causing my lips to curve into a smile as the feather touch makes me ticklish. I turn my head to find a smirk on his face.
"You keep that up, I'm going to make you pay for it," I mumble threateningly.
He snorts, ocean eyes sparking in mischief as he runs his fingers over my side again. I fight the smile, trying my hardest to not squirm when he does it once more, breaking that thin line of control. Soft laughter bubbles out of me as I grab his wrist, breathing heavy with the exertion. I'm still in critical condition according to Hershel, but this moment is worth any pain that comes with it.
"You're evil. I can't even fight back," I breathe out, meeting that piercing stare of his.
The lines that creased his face from the moment I met him are lighter, his eyes less tired looking. The side of his face is still a deep purple, but he looks happier than I have ever seen him. There's hope in those burdened eyes for once.
"No nightmares last night," he comments, breaking the brief silence between us.
A smile graces my lips at that fact. It's the first night in years that I slept straight through the night with no interruptions. It's almost unrealistic.
"You're right."
Those ocean eyes hold me captive, a novel of words spoken in them as he wordlessly pulls me to him, my head resting over his heart as his arm slips around my shoulders, fingers tracing up and down my arm.
The group's voices echo through the house as everyone greets each other and starts on the daily chores. I listen to the steady thump of Daryl's heart beat under his olive green button up. It has been three days since Shane. Three days that I have spent lying in this bed recovering. The nightmares and memories have slowly lessened over the past days and I have the group to thank for that, especially Daryl. He brings me food every day, and after dinner he leaves the dishes outside the door and spends the night with me. The comfort he gives helps me keep those nasty images out of my head, and I can't help but feel like a teenage girl who has her first boyfriend.
Things seem to be working out for once. I don't feel like doom is around every corner. Yeah, the group is a bit strained with the bomb Rick dropped, but that is one bad thing out of a ton of good. We have a safe place to live and thrive. There is food on the table every day and night, and so far, beside Dale, the farm has stayed walker free. It is nothing like before, but it is the closest to normal we have been since the outbreak. For once, I'm able to let myself relax. I can't even remember the last time that I wasn't running for my life.
A tired sigh leaves Daryl, "Probably should go down. Rick wants T-Dog and me to chop some more wood up for the fireplace."
I nod, pulling myself up gingerly into a sitting position. The pain is not nearly as bad as the first time I woke up. Every day I'm able to do a little more, but Hershel is being very strict; mandatory bed rest for the next week until he is sure that my lung is fully healed.
A small grin plays on my lips as he stands, slipping on his dirty brown boots along with a long sleeved button up and angel winged vest.
"Turning you two into grade A lumberjacks," I tease, earning a small smile from Daryl before he slips out the door and leaves me.
The day moves slowly once the hunter is gone. Hershel brings me breakfast not long after Daryl leaves, checking my stitches. According to him the wound looks good, starting the slow healing process. Once he packed up and left though, I was all alone. Andrea brought me a book from Dale's RV yesterday and I started reading that. I made it about half way through before giving up on it, my body craving some real activities, like running or shooting, something other than just sitting here wasting the day away. Bed rest was never meant for me. It makes me antsy lying around being useless. Carl came up to visit around mid-day and spent some time with me, making sitting here more bearable, but there is only so many rounds of war you can play before you grow sick of the game.
I watch the sky progressively change as the day wears on, watching the bright blue sky turn yellow orange and then fade to a purple grey as evening hits. My nails are torn down to nothing but ripped skin and scabbed sores from my anxiety. The hunter life makes settling down nearly. It's like coming back from war.
Your body craves that exhilarating adrenaline rush, the one you can only get when bullets are whizzing by you; the only telltale sign that you're alive is your heartbeat thrumming in your ears so loud you can't hear your Lieutenant's orders. I want this, the calmness, but I can't sit around any longer. I've tried to settle and relax like this before, but a week in and I was climbing up the walls, desperate for something to do.
Screw it.
I pull myself up into a seated position with my legs hanging off the bed, easing myself onto my feet, stitches pulling and my chest aching as I push off the mattress. My legs feel weak, every part of my body exhausted with the small feat.
Buck up, girl. This is nothing and you know that.
I shiver in the dimly lit room, wrapping an arm tight around my chest to help with the ache that is there. The only clothing I have had the past few days is a black sports bra and jeans. Everybody has already seen my naked body once. I don't need them staring at my scar ridden skin any more than they already have.
My weapons sit on top of the dresser and I ease the drawers open, ruffling through the clothes for something to wear. A maroon colored zip up catches my eye and I pull it out, slipping the hoodie jacket on. It's baggy, but soft and warm, taking the chill right out of my bones. I step into my boots, not bothering with the laces as I tuck the demon knife and my Beretta into the waistband of my jeans, snapping the machete sheath around my belt loop.
Even if everyone was armed to the teeth, I would want my own weapons. You yourself are the best defense you have. I slip out of the bedroom, the ache in my chest dull as I reach the stairs. Hershel will kick my ass for being up and around like this, but it is totally worth it. Already the anxiety is draining from me, easing some of the exhaustion from my muscles as I work them.
I draw in a deep breath, ignoring the burn in my lungs as I start down the stairs. Each step, my breathing grows harsher, but I push forward, trying to keep my breaths even. My damn stubbornness always gets the best of me. Lori and Patricia's voices sound in the kitchen, but I crave the fresh air. I cross through the fore way unseen by the group and step out into the chilly autumn evening.
My arm stays wrapped around my chest, trying to ease some of the pain, but it is to no avail. I shove the burning pain away, focusing on the way the fresh air whips around me, caressing my skin with a cool touch. My eyes slip shut as I rest against the porch railing, taking in painfully deep breaths of the crisp air.
"She lives!" T-Dog cheers, my eyes snapping open, a grin playing on my lips as I see him and Andrea coming up the driveway with rifles.
"Glad to be," I chuckle, standing by the stairs to greet them. They come up the steps, T-Dog giving me a cautious half hug.
"Surprised Hershel let you be up and moving already," Andrea comments, looking me up and down, her gaze lingering on my arm pulled tight across my chest.
"I most certainly did not," the old man scolds, coming out of the house right behind me, drying his hands on a white towel. A shy smile graces my lips, knowing that I'm about to be scolded like a small child as I meet Hershel's disapproving eyes.
"Sorry Doc, but…"
"REDFORD!"
My breath stutters in my chest as my last name rings in out in the dead of night, the four of us spinning around to the voice, and what I see I can hardly believe. Beth and Jimmy are being led by gunpoint up to the house with a group of at least fifteen heavily armed men behind them. I'm down the steps before the others can react, ignoring the stab of pain that spans across my chest as I twist to pull my gun free from my waistband.
"RICK!" Andrea calls out in panic as she, T-Dog, and Hershel fly off the porch after me, locking and loading their guns. Seconds later, the screen door slams open, feet pounding on the porch steps with a chorus of cocking guns following.
"Beth!" Hershel calls out to his youngest as he tries to go to her, but Glenn grabs him, keeping him back as the men on the other side of the yard bring their guns up.
"Daddy!" Beth sobs, face streaked with tears, frozen with fear with a gun held to the back of her head.
The men stop about twenty feet away from us and I immediately search the crowd. At the front stands Randall with a smile of a kid on Christmas morning. The blood in my veins goes ice cold with the realization of who these men are. Daryl told me that these men raped two daughters in front of their father, but my biggest fear is what the boy told me. Their leader is a demon and he is here for me.
"Redford!" A tall and well-built man calls out joyously, like an old friend greeting there childhood friend after ten years apart. He steps forward, out of the crowd of men, his hair a sandy blonde, and his smile a little too friendly as he spots me.
I keep my face a stone mask, staring the demon down. Daryl steps up beside me, his body angled so that he can protect me from anything that might happen.
"Well, I'll be damned. The kid was right! Good job, Randall," he congratulates, giving the kid a pat on the back before facing me once again, an overly polite look on his middle-aged face.
"Aria, it's a pleasure to finally meet you. Can't tell you how much I've heard about you and your friends."
"What's your name?" I question coldly while I panic on the inside.
"Zepar. I believe you met my good accomplice a while back, Alistair."
The name makes my spine go rigid, Dean's terrified gaze popping into my head. I can remember each emotion that passed over that freckled face when he came face to face with that monster again; the raw hate and the palpable fear could be felt feet away from the man.
"Dean would remember me; gave Alastair a hand with your friend during those four months. I would say my favorite was the carving," his words holding a hint delight that sends chills through my body.
I clench my hands tighter around my gun, finger tracing the trigger. Dean didn't deserve to suffer at the hands of these monsters, not in a million lifetimes, and I swore if I ever had the chance to hurt those demons like they hurt Dean I wouldn't waste the opportunity.
But despite that promise to myself; losing control of this situation could mean the death of everyone here. Protecting them is a hell of a lot more important than an old vendetta. So, I push the resentful, hatred away, taking control of this situation.
"Let them go." He chuckles at me, causing my blood to bubble in my veins.
"Why?" his tone curious as he walks up to Beth, picking up her golden locks. "I could have a lot of fun with this one. She would be fun to rip apart." He stuffs his face into her hair, Beth's whimpers ringing loud and clear as she tries to pull away from him.
Hershel stands at the front with Glenn, Maggie, and Patricia, his hands clenching and unclenching, his face mirroring Dean's when he saw Alistair again. Maggie clutches at her shotgun, pale green eyes wide in despair. Whatever Zepar has planned for Beth and Jimmy, I can't let it happen. Beth is everything to Maggie and Hershel. They've already lost so much, they can't lose her too.
"You want me, don't you?" I question, pulling the demon's attention away from the trembling girl. I slip my gun into my jeans, raising my hands in surrender. "I'll go, no fight. All that I ask is you let them go."
"Aria," Rick growls disapprovingly from behind me, Daryl turning to look at me incredulously. But I block them both out, keeping my focus on the demon.
Zepar is silent, watching me, breaking me down before he shakes his head, "That's too easy. How about this? I will let one of them go. The other one gets a bullet to the head. That way it's even, one life for another," he proposes stepping up beside the two teens, laying a hand on each of their shoulders.
"Oh, and the best part, you get to decide who lives and who dies."
"I'm not playing your fucking games. You got me. I'm not fighting," I spit back, trying to hide the panic that is bubbling in my belly.
The situation is spiraling out of my control. There is no choosing. It's not an option, period. All eyes fall on me, shocked and desperate for me to do something. I have entire control; which means it falls on me to rescue these two and get these men off this farm. The only solution I have is to give myself up and that doesn't seem to be good enough.
"You don't choose, I will." The friendly voice he had put on is gone. His face is dark now, his words heavy with demand. I step forward furious that this demon won't just take what is right in front of him. Both sides react, guns coming up a little higher, stocks pulled tighter to their chests.
"What do they matter to you? Why bother, when you have what you want right here?"
"Because they matter to you," he replies simply, pulling a pistol from his belt. "Now you have ten seconds to decide before I choose for you."
I can't breathe.
They can't die.
My gun is in my hands, aimed at Zepar as he starts the count down. Several men turn their weapons on me, Daryl edging closer at the threat.
"You'll be dead before the bullet ever leaves the chamber, Aria. Time's a ticking."
"Quit your fucking games and let them go!"
"Seven seconds!"
"BETH!"
"JIMMY!"
"LET THEM GO, PLEASE!"
The others scream their pleas and I'm floundering for a way to fix this.
"Three seconds, time to choose!"
I don't think. One second my gun is aimed for the space between Zepar's eyes and the next the cool barrel is kissing my temple,
"They die, I die!" The silence is deafening, my heart in my throat. "Whoever your working for will be pissed if you show up with my dead body. "
I ignore Daryl's begging eyes, block out the others telling me to put the gun down. This is how I save them.
"If you die, they have no one to protect them from monsters like this."
Dean's words bounce around in my head, but I don't lift my finger from the trigger. Zepar looks away from the shaking kids, his eyes boring into mine.
"Time's up."
The shot rings out, stealing all of our breaths as Jimmy collapses to the hard earth. Beth's screams drown out the ringing of the firearm in the darkening evening. Time is frozen as I watch that bullet exit the chamber and pierce through Jimmy's skull, blood splattering out of the exit wound. Nobody moves except for Beth who is now crouched down beside Jimmy's body. She screams through her tears, shaking his lifeless body.
My gun falls away from my head, weighing like a damn anchor, dragging me down to Hell where I fucking belong because this is my fault. I should have killed Randall, gone after this group myself; done something to avoid this because now it's another death on my hands.
I'm not sure how long we all stand there, frozen, listening to Beth's screaming cries before my legs start moving of their own accord. I move towards Beth, my arms up in surrender, my eyes glued to the guns that follow my movements. Zepar does nothing to stop me as I crouch beside the sobbing girl, gripping her shoulders tightly, and pulling her up and away from her dead boyfriend, out of harms way.
My eyes burn with fire as I glare the demon down, hating him for what he has done to this innocent girl as I start guiding Beth to her father and sister. But I can't go all the way back with her, can't look Hershel in the eye and apologize for not saving the boy he most likely considered a son. Zepar will just attack, hurt someone else I care about and I won't let that happen. I stop in the middle of the two groups, giving Beth a gentle push forward, watching as she runs to the safety of her father's arms.
Every face is seared into my brain as I take in this dysfunctional group. Tears stain some of their faces, fear, and uncertainty etched into the lines of their faces and it's my fault. All I can muster is a small nod as my goodbye. There isn't time for an explanation or to thank them for what they have done for me. Daryl's eyes meet mine, drowning in helplessness, torn between wanting to kill the son of a bitch and protect me. But this is my fault and I have to live with the consequences.
'I'm sorry,' I mouth to him before turning my back on all of them, faced with Zepar's triumphant smirk. I start my way back to the demon, trying to figure out how to keep the others safe and kill this demon without dying. But I don't have to think much on it as a howling scream rips through the silence. Night has settled so that I can barely make out what is happening, but I see the dark masses of shadows attacking.
Walkers.
Zepar's group turns to fight the threat behind them as I turn to look at my group, seeing walkers sneak up behind them. But the others are already fighting, firing their weapons at any dead prick that gets too close. The walkers come out from behind the house, bottlenecking us in the driveway, and chaos ensues. Guns are fired left and right, trying to fight off the horde as screams of death are cried out from those who fall prey.
The demon forgets about me, trying to pull his followers into some order and I make a break for it. Rick and the others try to form a protective circle around those without weapons but it is useless.
"RUN!" I scream, pointing to the cars and with that they make a run for it, everyone splitting up at they try to get to safety.
I'm so focused on the others that I don't notice the entire front yard being swarmed by walkers. Cold hands grab my wrist and I manage to pull away from the overall clothed monster. The sudden pull though sends a sharp pain through my chest. I try to run, but my lungs protest with each gasp of air. Walkers surround me as I dodge them, forcing the pain in my chest out of my head, and trying to force my legs to move faster.
Black and white feathers fly by me, an arrow sinking deep into the skull of a walker on my right. A warm, strong hand grips my bicep roughly, pulling me out of the throng of walkers. Daryl keeps a firm grip on me, putting me in front of him to keep me out of the dead's reach. The roars of engines sound over the chorusing sound of gunfire and screams, and a wave of relief floods through me knowing that the others are getting out of here.
Daryl's bike shines in the moonlight and we hop on it. My chest wheezes with exertion as Daryl flips the kickstand up and guns the bike. I wrap my arms tightly around his waist as we lurch forward, weaving in and out of the treacherous hands of the dead.
The sounds of the ambush begin to die out as we reach the dirt path leading away from Hershel's home. My shoulders slump the farther we drive away from the farm, and I breathe a painful sigh of relief as the rumble of the engine consumes my ears, easing the tension from my body. I glance over the bulky crossbow on Daryl's back just in time to see a figure appear in front of us.
Daryl swerves out of the way, the bike tipping as we're tossed to the hard, graveled earth. The air is knocked from me as my body comes into impact with the road, a pained moan slipping passed my lips as I feel my stitches rip open once again, the sharp tiny rocks biting into my skin. A pained grunt sounds beside me and I turn my head to see Daryl pressing his head into the hard ground, face pinched as his breaths come out in harsh pants. I push myself up, my palms digging painfully into the ground to check on him, finding the motorcycle crushing his left leg.
"Oh shit, Daryl," I mumble, stumbling over to the bike.
My back explodes in agony as I try to lift the huge metal structure, and I fall against it, trying to catch my breath.
"Aria…"
I ignore Daryl's call, pushing myself back onto my feet, forcing the pain from my mind, knowing that if I don't get this off he'll die. A surge of adrenaline races through my body, giving me the strength to lift the bike just enough for him to free his leg. I collapse as soon as he is free, straining for air in between my agonized whimpers. Both of us lay here, eyes screwed shut, forgetting about how we ended up here in the first place.
A hand grips my hair, a sharp cry ripped out of me as I'm hauled to my feet. The grip is fierce as I claw at the hand, feeling my follicles being pulled free.
"We had a deal, Redford," Zepar hissed from behind me, tossing me aside.
I stumble over my feet, managing to stay upright as I free the demon knife, holding it firmly in my right hand as I tuck my left arm against my chest. The demon laughs in amusement, opening his arms wide in invitation,
"Come on, girly. Show me what you got."
And that's it. All control is lost as I charge forward, swiping the knife across his chest. The tip grazes his coat as he jumps back from me, but I keep advancing, letting adrenaline fuel my body and numb the pain. I jab at him and he sidesteps, catching my wrist and giving the joint a sharp twist that has me crying out, the knife falling free.
He gains the upper hand, pulling my right arm back behind my back at an angle that has my shoulder protesting, threatening to pop out of its joint. A choked gasp is all I manage before a fist drills into the side of my injured chest, forcing me to my knees. Every nerve ending is screaming, muddling my brain. I barely react in time as Zepar's fist pulls back, aimed for my face. My eyes snap shut, waiting for the impact.
A loud squelch sounds instead, the fist never making contact and I open my eyes to see an arrow protruding from Zepar's chest, right where his heart is. He grabs the wooden arrow, pulling the entire length free before tossing it aside, unharmed and not amused.
Daryl stands behind him, favoring his left leg as he stares at the man in disbelief, crossbow still aimed. Panic surges through my veins and I try to get to my feet to stop the demon.
"Daryl, run!" I holler, lunging for Zepar as he reaches down for the demon knife. But it's useless as he grabs me around the throat, kicking my legs out from under me, driving me down into the earth. My head slams into the hard ground, gasping for air as my lungs spasm.
Zepar charges Daryl, the hunter managing to dodge the first hit, swinging his massive crossbow out at the demon. He just misses Zepar's face and the demon knocks the weapon from his hands. Daryl stumbles back, away from him as the knife is swiped at him once again. He grabs his hunting knife, making to stab the demon in the chest, but Zepar blocks his shot, pushing Daryl's arm away from him and driving the demon knife into his gut.
"Daryl!"
I watch as the monster pulls the blood-soaked blade free from his gut, those blue eyes finding mine in the dark, flooded with a thousand unspoken thoughts. The demon pushes Daryl back, his body falling to the ground as he desperately clutches at his stomach to staunch the flow of blood. Every muscle protests, but I push on; forcing my screaming muscles to move so I can get to him. The demon turns away from Daryl and with the slightest twist of his wrist he has me on the ground again, crying out in pain as my stomach feels like it's ripped from my body.
"Daryl," I call, but his name comes out in a pained moan instead.
Zepar takes his time making his wat towards me, the night air filled with screams of agony, gunfire, and walker's hungry moans for food. My face is buried in the sharp gravel, the small rocks cutting at my face as I gasp for breath. I look up, gripping at the hard ground to pull myself to Daryl's unmoving form.
This is your fault. You have to protect him.
The demon watches my pathetic attempt, pushing me to my back with his foot. "I'm gonna get a nice promotion bringing your pitiful ass in," he sneers, reaching down to grip the front of my shirt. He lifts me up, our faces inches away as those blue eyes glaze over in a haunting white.
"Perhaps I'll get a chance to do a little poking and prodding myself."
"Go to hell," I bark, lips curled back in a snarl as I try to free myself from his grip.
A wicked smirk graces his lips and he pulls his fist back. I turn my head away, bracing for it. His fist comes, halting right before it connects with my face as a blinding white light bursts from Zepar's eyes and mouth as he howls in agony. His grip falters and I collapse to the ground, staring in amazement at the smoking eye sockets of the demon's vessel.
My heart races a mile a minute as I look up, chest clenching in joy as I find my trench coated angel friend. He stands over Zepar, features hard and blank, so much like the Castiel I first met.
"Cas?"
Whatever was running through the angel's mind, I pull him from it as he crouches down in front of me, pressing two fingers to my forehead. I close my eyes against the warmth that is his grace as it swirls through my body, healing my wounds. A sharp gasp flies from me as air fills my lungs properly; his grace disappearing from me like a rubber band snapping. I catch those cerulean eyes, holding them and hoping to find an answer to all the questions flitting through my mind. A low moan echoes in the silence, my heart stopping mid beat
Daryl.
I'm up in seconds, running towards the injured hunter, sliding down to the ground next to him. His skin is pale, skin cool to the touch as I brush his hair back from his forehead,
"Hey, it's okay. You're going to be okay."
His eyes are wide, breathing erratic as he clutches at the wound in his gut, hands painted in red as he bleeds out.
"Cas, I need help!" I call, pressing my hands over his to help staunch the flow of blood.
The angel makes his way over, crouching down opposite me. Cas reaches his hand out to Daryl, but he flinches back, mouth open to say something but only an agonized groan comes out.
"Shh it is okay, Daryl. He can help you," I soothe, holding his gaze, trying to ease his panic.
Cas reaches out again, resting his hand over Daryl's wound. That warm light spills from Cas's hand and seconds later Daryl is jerking away from the both of us like a frightened animal, wild eyes flickering between the two of us before he finally looks down at his stomach, lifting his shirt up to see the stab wound all healed as if it never happened. I see the confusion as he looks back at me and then Cas.
"What the hell are you?" he growls glaring at Cas, body coiled tight.
"I'm an angel of the Lord." Cas stands, straightening his trench coat.
Daryl's face glowers in rage and I step in, backing up the angel. "He's not lying."
Those ocean eyes turn on me, but they are a blue fire of distrust even when he sees the truth in my gaze. Daryl studies Cas a little longer, realization passing over his face as he gets to his feet.
"You were the one I saw at the ridge?" he questions uncertainly, like he's not sure what he saw.
"Yes."
"Wait, you helped him?" I turn on Cas, but the angel ignores me, looking over my shoulder,
"You need to leave now."
I follow his gaze, seeing the walker's making their way down the road in search of more food. All I can hope is that the others all got away safely. Cas turns his back on me, ready to leave, but I stop him.
"Cas, wait! What the hell is happening?"
I have so many questions for him. What is this infection? Why are demons after me? Where has he been the past few months?
"Your group will be on the highway." A gust of wind sweeps over us and he is gone.
"Let's go," Daryl growls, walking passed me to grab his crossbow and right the bike.
"Daryl…" But he cuts me off with a sharp glare, distrust and hurt all swirling in that fiery storm.
Wordlessly, I get on the bike, the engine roaring to life as Daryl guns it down the road, taking us far away from this place. I clutch at the seat as we move through the dirt paths of the forest, watching the sky lazily brighten from a pale grey to a soft pink.
There is no more hiding. I have to tell the others what happened tonight. They were driven from their home, had to watch a kid be executed all because I was afraid to tell them this dark secret. What happened tonight is exactly why I wanted to leave this group. Zepar killed Jimmy because he knew it would hurt me. He could have killed them all, hell, he probably would have as soon as he had me.
We exited out from a side road in the woods onto the main highway. There's a honk behind us and I glance over my shoulder to see the green Hyundai and Hershel's blue truck coming down the road. A soft smile finds its way to my lips, knowing that people made it. They follow us as we drive up the highway road, staying on the shoulder to bypass the clogged lanes. The cars thin out and I spot the red Chevy Suburban parked where we left the sign for Sophia.
Daryl pulls up next to the car, the others parking behind us as everyone rushes out of the vehicles to greet each other. The bike's engine is cut and then Daryl is jumping off the bike, face threatening as he turns on me with his crossbow, an arrow already notched and ready to fire.
"What happened back there and I want the fucking truth."
The others are frozen, unsure of what is happening and not daring to stop Daryl in case he fires. I hold my hands up in surrender, slipping off the bike as I hiss right back,
"I'm not the enemy." He stares me down over the crossbow, not relenting until he gets the answer he wants.
"I will tell you everything, but this isn't the place. That horde is going to be following us, and it's going to take more than five minutes to explain what happened. Trust me."
"Trust you?" Daryl snarls incredulously, and I drop my gaze in shame.
This is your fault.
"Put it down, Daryl," Cas's deep voice orders as a flutter of wings sounds from behind me.
All guns are drawn, the others stepping back in fear at the sudden appearance of the angel. I step in front of Cas without thinking, everyone's weapons now falling on me.
"Drop your weapons, damn it! I said I'll explain and I will, but this is the least of our worries right now."
Their gazes flicker from me to Rick before any of them lower their weapons. Even when the sheriff lowers his, they hesitate, uncertainty painting their worn faces as they stare at me and Cas. Daryl is the last to drop his weapon, and I ignore the pissed look he shoots at me as I turn to Cas, a thousand questions on the tip of my tongue.
"You need to keep these people safe. Do you understand?" Cas orders, fierce eyes boring into me.
"What's happening?"
His gaze makes me squirm, but I continue to hold his stare, not giving up. I want fucking answers.
"Do you understand?"
I shake my head in exasperation, "Yes, Cas. Of course I do, but you're not answering my question. What do the demons want?"
And with that he turns on me, but I grab him by the shoulder, spinning him around, snapping,
"Don't fucking leave again. Answer my question."
Cas frees my hand, face void of emotion and it is so eerily like the old days that I wonder if the angel ever had compassion.
"I must go."
"Wait-" But he's gone with a flutter of wings.
A growl of frustration rumbles from me before I face the group again. They all stare in awe, unsure of whether what they just saw is real or not. But there is hesitation, weariness in their stares. I can't blame them. They don't know what is happening. All they do know is that I'm connected to it and so far I've gotten one person, maybe more killed.
I look around the group, noticing Andrea and Patricia missing. "Where's Andrea?"
"Saw he go down," T-Dog answers solemnly, leaning against the grill of the blue truck. Guilt burns in my veins and I draw in a sharp breath.
"Patricia?" Hershel asks the group, but Beth shakes her head, breaking into another batch of fresh tears.
"I tried to hold on Daddy," she sobs into her father's chest, clutching to him while Maggie rubs soothing circles into her back.
"You definitely saw Andrea?" I question T-Dog once more.
There was so much going on, maybe she got out or was taken. Seeing her 'go down' doesn't mean anything. I have no idea if there were other demons in that group of men. They could have taken her thinking that they could torture her to find out more about me.
"There were walkers everywhere," Lori explains unsure of herself as she looks to Carol and T-Dog for confirmation, but even they are uncertain.
Fuck.
I shake my head, "I'll go back…"
"No," Rick snaps sternly.
"I'm not going to leave her."
"We don't even know if she's there," Lori explains before Rick adds on, words empty and harsh,
"She isn't there. She's either somewhere else or she's dead."
"So, we're just going to give up on her?" I question, getting angry. It's just like Merle, leaving him on that rooftop in Atlanta because he wasn't cooperating. Nothing is guaranteed until you see it with your own eyes.
"You said so yourself, those walkers are going to be heading this way. We can't go back, we need to keep moving."
I shake my head, pushing my anger down because damn it he's right. Going back there is a suicide mission, but she is a part of this group. Shouldn't we try even though we know it's a risk?
She wouldn't want that.
"Where do we go?"
"I say we head east," T-Dog offers.
"Stay off the main roads. The bigger the road, the more assholes like these," Daryl comments, raising his crossbow and talking out a lone walker, weaving through the cars that nobody had noticed yet.
"We head out in five, we're taking the Chevy and the Hyundai" Rick orders, not saying much else on the matter.
Everyone packs into the vehicles while Maggie and Lori grab the supplies off of Carol's car that were left for Sophia. It seems like a lifetime ago that I was jumping over that guard rail after that little girl.
But not a lifetime ago that you put a bullet in her head.
Rick approaches me, Daryl following close behind, keeping his gaze averted from me.
"Give me your hands," the sheriff commands, pulling out a pair of silver cuffs.
"Are you fucking serious Rick?" I question appalled, looking at him like he's got three heads. "I'm not a fucking threat!"
But Rick just stares blankly at me, waiting. I look to Daryl, "You know me! I told you that there were things I needed to keep to myself for your safety."
Daryl turns on me then, his eyes ablaze in fire, "I don't know shit about you! Your fucking secrets got Jimmy killed and almost got me killed. How am I supposed to know that anything you ever said was true?"
I flinch at his words, ignoring the knife digging into my chest. I already blame myself for Jimmy, for the way this world is now because this was my job. This is what the Winchester's and I were meant to do; keep the world safe from the supernatural and instead we somehow let the fucking apocalypse happen again.
I put my hands out for Rick, letting him slap the cold metal around my wrists and lead me to the red Chevy, putting me in the front with him. The vehicles are started up and we start heading north on the highway, away from the horde at the farm. Uneasy silence hangs over us as we drive for miles, and I keep my gaze locked on the tall trees that pass us by, staring into the depths of the forest, hoping to find the answers to the questions in my head. But there are none.
Daryl's words echo in my mind and my throat grows tight. He loved me and now he hates me, is scared of me. They all are and they will never get over it. I'm going to have to spill some of the darkest secrets of this world and, like everyone else in the hunter life; they are going to be dragged into it with no choice.
I hate this lifestyle. I hate the constant fear, the nightmares, and the lack of trust that all comes with the job. Even now with just the walkers it isn't that bad, but add the worry of creatures from Purgatory and Hell too, and it gets downright ugly.
You have to leave.
I don't have a choice this time. I need to leave these people. I'll give them the truth, tell them how to protect themselves, and leave. Otherwise, I'm dooming them. My back has got a giant target painted on it for the supernatural. Being with them just paints that same target on their backs and they already have enough on their plates.
"You know these people will never make it without you, not after you tell them what's really out there."
I push Sam's voice out of my mind. He is wrong. Rick and Daryl can keep them all safe. They'll find a place to raise Lori's baby and thrive there, make a new life. I know they can because they are strong. These people, if they stick together, can beat this world.
"Cas told you to protect them. You know that means they already have targets on their backs."
I bring my cuffed hands up to my face and rub roughly. These voices need to stop. They only give me headaches and twist my thoughts into knots. Dropping my hands to my lap in defeat, I lean my head against the cool glass, my warm breath fogging up the window. The engine makes a dry rattling sound and Rick slams his hand against the steering wheel.
"What's wrong?" Lori asks with concern from the backseat.
"We've been driving on red for the past hour," Rick explains frustrated, his face worn.
"Better make sure we don't get forgotten," T-Dog points out as we slowly come to stop, the others still going driving on.
Rick gives a quick honk and the rest of the caravan pulls over to the side of the road. The group exits their vehicles, standing in the middle of the deserted road, looking around in fear. There are no cars in sight and the Georgia woods surround us on both sides. Rick comes around and lets me out before heading to the front where the others have gathered.
"You out?" Daryl questions, straddling his bike.
"Running on fumes," Rick explains, looking around at our surroundings. We're in the middle of nowhere. The nearest town is probably another couple of miles out.
"We can't stay here," Maggie complains with a plea in her voice.
"We can't all fit in one car," Glenn counters.
"We'll have to make a run for gas in the morning," Rick decides, still looking around, making the others anxious.
"Spend the night here?" Carol questions uncertainly. Nobody seems okay with the idea, but there is nothing else to do.
"I'm freezing," Carl complains, his sweat jacket zipped all the way up, hands stuffed into his pockets. Lori rubs his chest, trying to warm him.
"We'll build a fire," she offers.
"Anyone going out looking for firewood stay close," Daryl commands, picking up his crossbow as Rick strips off his coat and hands it to his son.
"I only got so many arrows. How you doing on bullets?" Daryl asks Rick.
"Not enough," the cop answers.
"Well we can't just stay here with our asses hanging out."
"Watch your mouth," Hershel scolds his eldest daughter. "Now everyone calm down and listen to Rick."
I admire the old man; everyone shutting their mouths after he speaks. He is the mediator for this group, the voice of reason. Rick looks around for another moment before addressing us, laying out the plan.
"We'll set up a perimeter. In the morning we'll go out for supplies and gas, keep pushing on."
"Glenn and I can go now try and scrounge up some gas," Maggie offers, not liking the idea of spending the night in the woods exposed.
"No, we stick together. God forbid something happened and somebody got stranded without a car."
"Rick, we're stranded now," Glenn tries desperately.
"I know it looks bad and we've been through hell and worse, but at least we found each other."
I can't help but look over at Daryl. He keeps his gaze on Rick though, and I feel my heart twist in my chest.
"I wasn't sure…But we're together and we keep it that way. We'll find shelter somewhere. There's got to be a place."
"Rick, look around. There are walkers everywhere. They're migrating or something," Glenn points out, speaking openly about everyone's big fear.
The weight of the world sits on Rick's shoulders and he is stumbling beneath it. He has a baby on the way, which he doesn't know if it is his or not, he has everyone else to take care of, and nowhere to go to protect them. And I took away the one place that could have worked for us.
"There's a place out there. A place we can fortify, make lives for ourselves. I know it; we just have to look for it."
"Even if we find that place, it will never be safe. Look at the farm. We will always have to run."
"You don't know that," Hershel counters Maggie, drawing a hint of a smile to my lips. A couple of weeks ago he was telling me how dangerous it was to hope and here the old man is looking for a reason to hope. And he found one; the possibility of having a safe haven from walkers, a chance.
"We'll set up camp over there, keep watch over the road," Rick lays out, pointing at a stone structure right off the side of the road.
"What if another herd comes through?"
"What if that group comes back?"
"They won't be coming back," I affirm, finally speaking up as I step into the semi- circle the group has created around Rick.
"How can you be sure?" Glenn asks, more curious than distrusting.
"Because Zepar is dead. He was controlling them. Those men are lost puppies without him. They're running scared with no leader."
"Maybe somebody stepped up in his place," T-Dog suggests and I shrug my shoulders,
"It's possible, but I guarantee they won't be coming after us."
"Why is that?"
They all stare at me like everything that comes from my mouth is lies, like I'm some outsider and not somebody they have survived the last few months with.
"Because they just want to survive, Zepar was ordered to find me."
"And why is that?" Daryl asks roughly, that edge still in his tone.
I suck in a deep breath, releasing it slowly through my nose, "Honestly, I have no clue. All I know is that I can't stay with you. People like Zepar will be looking for me and I don't want you caught in the crossfire again."
This is keeping them safe. If I can keep the demons off their trail, then all they have to do is survive the walkers and I know they can handle that.
"You say people like Zepar, what do you mean?" Rick questions cautiously, knowing that he is about to breach the conversation I've been holding off on.
I chew on my lower lip, looking down at the asphalt road, "You really don't want to know."
"Oh, trust me. We want to know," Daryl's words are harsh as he glares in my direction.
My gaze falls to my restrained hands, the others waiting for me to explain. Nothing is going to get done until I talk and we only have so much daylight left.
Where do I even start?
It's not exactly easy to explain. Do I start from the beginning with what I went through? Or Azazel and his plan for Sam? How we nearly started the apocalypse once already?
"I lied to you all when I said that my step-father killed my family," I start, a long sigh of unwillingness fluttering from me as I look up at everyone. "Mark was possessed by a demon named Oriax. The only reason I'm standing here today is because Sam and Dean's father, John, and my biological father, Steve, exorcised the demon before he could kill me."
My throat is tight with the memory of that night and I clear it, forcing the images out of my head. The others all look at me like I'm crazy and Rick speaks up,
"Aria, what you went through was very traumatic..."
I can't help but snort, knowing where he's going. "Dead people are walking around, Rick. You just saw a man appear and disappear." I lift up my shirt, showing the clear skin or where my bullet wound was, "And I suddenly don't have any evidence of being shot. I'm not crazy, okay?" I drop my shirt back into place, going on,
"Demons, angels, monsters; they're all real. All those stories you told around the campfire when you were a kid, I've been hunting them for the past decade or so."
"Everything?" Carl questions timidly, breaking the silence that hangs over us, his mother tightening her hold around him.
"Yes," I answer solemnly, seeing more of his innocence being stripped away.
I draw in quick breath, "I've killed every kind of monster you can think of; vampires, ghouls, ghosts, shape-shifters, werewolves, demons, angels. I've fought archangels, the devil himself, and the damn mother of monsters. I've met Death face to face and faced the four horsemen of the Apocalypse. I've been tortured by the same demon who killed my family, and I've lost a lot of good people through all of this."
All the pain of this life comes crashing down on me, remembering just how brutal the hunter life is and what it turns you into. "I should have told you this sooner, and I'm sorry that I didn't, but if you can understand, this is not a burden that I would want you to carry. The things I've seen; the people I've lost; the things that I've done; this life changes you. I thought that I could protect you all without having to put this weight on you and I was wrong."
Silence follows my words, the others either wide eyed or blank faced as they soak it all in, but it's a lot and not an easy thing to wrap your head around. Already I can see the new-found fear in their faces, the hard truth that this world is a hell of a lot bigger and scarier than they could ever imagine.
If you had left when you were supposed to they wouldn't have to suffer like this.
"So, that guy in the trench coat?" Rick questions with a hint of awe in his voice.
"His name is Castiel and he's an angel, a friend of the Winchester's and me. He's one of the good ones."
"What do you mean?" T-Dog asks, "Aren't all angels good?"
I shake my head, but Hershel beats me to the question, "Lucifer was an angel and he fell."
"They're warriors of God, meant to protect Heaven and us. Some don't exactly think we're very worthy of that protection."
"Is the guy that killed Jimmy, is he a bad angel?"
"No, he's a demon."
"Why are demons after you?"
"Wish I knew, Rick," I answer in frustration. It's something I've been wondering since the two demons at the nursing home attacked. "What I do know is that the demon APB on me was made by Crowley."
"Who's that?"
"The King of Hell."
"Wow, and I thought this was as fucked as it could get," T-Dog comments, thinking out loud.
I rub my face roughly, drawing in a heavy breath before addressing everyone again. "Look, these demons aren't going to stop searching for me and if I'm with you guys, you're in danger."
"What are you saying?" Carol's motherly grey eyes confused, her words worried, but she already knows what I'm talking about doing.
"You're not safe with me. Telling you about the hunter life is one thing; being caught in the middle of it is a whole other story. You don't want this shit following you, trust me. I can keep them on my trail and off of yours, and you'll be as safe as you can be with the walkers."
"You expect us to just let you go off on your own, fighting walkers and demons that have a price on your head without any back up?" Daryl snaps disbelievingly, looking at me for the first time since I opened my mouth. There's regret and anger and uncertainty, but none of that matters. I need to make this a clean break. He doesn't trust me anymore, he said it himself.
"Wouldn't be the first time," I answer simply. He shakes his head in aggravation, pacing back and forth.
Rick comes forward, grabbing my hands to undo the cuffs, those piercing blue eyes holding my green ones. "You're a part of this group. We're here right now, together, because we are stronger this way. So, if we have to kill demons then we will, but you're not leaving."
The sincerity catches me off guard. Not a hint of hesitation is in his body or words. He truly believes that I belong here with them, even after all the lies and devastation I've brought. The others share that same belief, their faces mirroring the determination in Rick's. But I laugh in disbelief because who in their right mind would willingly want targets painted on their backs?
"You people are serious? Where in that entire speech did you not understand how dangerous this life is? Why the hell would you want to fight these things?"
"Because you were willing to sacrifice your life to save my daughter," Hershel explains very honestly, a deep gratitude in those words.
But that's not enough of a reason for me. I do that for everyone because that's who I am. My life is nowhere near the same worth as someone else's, not after the things I've done.
"I won't let you do this," I state, standing my ground, but Daryl fires back, affirming what everyone believes,
"You don't get to decide what we do with our lives, girl."
The small fire keeps everyone warm as they huddle closely together, soaking up the heat from the flames and each other. I walk up and down the stone wall, searching the blackness for anything. The others are on edge more so now with the new knowledge, jumping at every little noise. My breath comes out in little white puffs, my skin ice cold under the thin zip-up jacket, but I refuse to give up watch.
That is the deal I made with myself and them. They want to fight this war with me then by any means necessary I will protect them. Cas told me to do and I'm not going to break that promise. I don't do that.
I rifle through the massive list in my head, going over everything they need to be taught and the precautions that need to be taken. What I would give to have the damn Impala with us. She had everything ; anti-possession charms, silver bullets, knives, holy water, salt, anything and everything that we would possibly need to fight. Soft conversation sounds from down below, but I focus on planning everything out. It's the only way to keep them all alive. I can't let something like Jimmy or Andrea happen again.
A loud crack echoes through the woods, everyone jumping up, weapons drawn in panic.
"Everybody just relax. You all start taking off you're going to get killed," I snap, the soldier side coming out in me. I jump down from the wall, my machete in hand as I leave the broken stone fortress.
"Aria," Rick calls, Daryl, T-Dog, and him following me.
But I shake my head, "No. Stay here and keep watch. I'll check it out."
"Not alone," Daryl fires back, that protective instinct back in his shoulders.
My eyes harden, voice curt, "I told you all that until you know the exorcism, I'm the first one in on any sweep. That's the deal."
T-Dog keeps his mouth shut, but Rick and Daryl start to protest and I turn my back on them, walking away to figure out what the hell is out here. Nobody follows and for that I'm thankful. Honestly, it's probably just a critter or walker, but I don't' want to risk it. That and I just need to get away for a few minutes.
My steps are silent even as I move through the leaf covered ground. I listen to the dead night around me, trying to pick up on even the softest of sounds. My heart pounds in my chest as I move deeper into the woods, farther from the camp. A harsh breeze sweeps through the tree tops causing a loud rustling from above.
"Aria."
I nearly jump out of my skin, spinning around with my machete raised.
"Damn it, Cas," I scold, letting my weapon fall to my side, taking a few calming breaths as the angel apologizes.
"It's fine feathers. Are you going to answer my questions this time or are you going to just fly off again?"
He looks away from me, watching some of the brightly colored leaves flutter down to the ground. "I told you before my friend, I can't give you answers."
I remember the dream he visited me in and the disappointment that came when I awoke. "So then why are you here?"
"I came to tell you that I can't come to you anymore," he regretfully admits, that gruff voice somber.
"What do you mean? Like you can't come when I call?"
"Ever. I won't see you for a while my friend. I came to say good-bye and tell you to stay safe."
"Cas, what is going on? You don't show up for months, then you suddenly show up and save Daryl then visit me in a dream, and now you're leaving? This is fucked up you know that?"
I'm pissed. More than pissed if I'm being honest because after everything I have done for him, for all that we have been through; this is how he repays me?
"I have no control over this. There are things I need to do and I will not be able to look after you."
"But you can't tell me about your top secret mission? Did you notice there is an apocalypse going on? Because I think that needs more fixing than some angel bullshit!"
Leaves crunch in the distance, my yelling bringing the others surely.
"I have my orders!" Cas shoots back, fire in his eyes. "I have defied Heaven for you and the Winchester's. Heaven needs me now, my brothers and sisters."
"Did you forget about the family that took you in when your so called brothers and sisters turned on you?" My words a growing growl that are spat like poisoned darts.
"I have not forgotten about what you and the Winchesters have done for me. You are still my family too."
Rick, Daryl, and T-Dog stay back, watching Cas and me silently. I shake my head furiously, the anger rolling through me,
"Where were you when Sam and Dean got bit? Where were you when I was shot? You left us and now you're leaving again."
Puffs of white mist fly from me with each fuming breath, trying desperately to keep my rage under control. Cas's eyes are heavy with sorrow, that broken expression one I've seen before. My anger ebbs a bit as his gravelly voice rings out in apology,
"Please forgive me Aria. And if you cannot forgive me now, I hope that one day you can." Cas's wings flap together, leaving me alone in the dark forest.
I rub at my tired eyes, trying to calm my storming mind. "So, that's an angel?" T-Dog asks awestruck, a rifle hanging loosely in his hands.
"A poor excuse for one," I comment bitterly, making my way back to our camp, passing the three. But Daryl's hand snakes out, catching me at my elbow. I turn to face him with fire green eyes, glaring heatedly as Rick and T-Dog continue on, leaving us be.
When the two are far enough away, I rip my arm free of his grasp, following after them. Now isn't the time to talk. I'm too fueled to have a level headed conversation which means I'm going to say things that I'll regret.
"I fucked up earlier," he admits, his southern voice apologetic as he keeps up behind me. I ignore his apology, moving through the moonlit forest. "Damn it, girl," he murmurs harshly, grabbing my hand and turning me around.
I throw a punch, but he catches my fist, pushing it back down to my side as my chest heaves with anger, staring up at him. His blue eyes are dark like the ocean and they swim with shame.
"That demon stabbed me, I was dying and scared fucking shitless. I didn't know what to do, what to believe."
"I can tell you what you shouldn't have done."
His features twist in anger, his southern accent thick with his gruff tone, "What did you expect from me?"
"Not to turn on me," I snap, seething at the betrayal. Of all the people to doubt me, I never thought he would be one.
A regretful sigh passes those sun dried lips, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said what I did and I get it now all right, why you are the way you are. But this cold shell, this ain't you."
"How would you know if this isn't me? Remember you don't know me," I spit back, watching him reap those words as his face falls.
I turn on my heels, done with this conversation, but his arms wrap around my waist, spinning me into him. My hands press against his chest, ready to shove him away when his lips crash into mine. He steals my breath, my body going boneless in his hold as he breaks away, our lips just barely touching.
Those ocean eyes meet my forest ones, seething with a thousand apologies. "Tell me how to make this better."
Fucker.
I want to be pissed at him. I don't trust very easily, and when you break that trust it's hard to get it back. But I know how I reacted after learning about the supernatural, how I lost trust in everyone around me, especially Steve. So, I let the anger go, releasing a long breath,
"Just believe in me."
I'm not stupid. I know that if we want a chance to make it then we have to work together, but that means having complete trust in one another, blind faith, something that I thought the two of us had.
"No more secrets?"
A smirk plays on my lips, "No more."
"Good."
And those lips press against mine, my mind going mush as everything finally falls into place. Sometimes all hell has to break loose for you to see how it all comes together. My life is more fucked up than a reality TV show. I'm not going to say that I know things will be all right because they won't. The best I can do is remind myself that these people are willing fight this war. If the brothers and I could stop the apocalypse, then this group and I can fix this world.
At least I hope so.
Hope you got your things together.
Hope you are quite prepared to die.
Looks like we're in for nasty weather.