Not only have I been very, very busy, I also had no idea how to end this story. This fic has meant a lot to me throughout its run, and I'm definitely ready to end it once and for all, but am just not sure how to. This is what it ended up to be.

Thank you to everyone who has stayed around up to this point and for leaving your sweet reviews. It's been a good run.

(Disclaimer: I'm not crying rn)

Enjoy, one last time! ;)

Daryl

I can't really get any closer, or else she'll notice me. Making sure I have stability with my crossbow, I take aim.

A shiver runs down my spine as the realization kicks in that I'm about to end the worst nightmare of this apocalypse. So much shit hung around this specific girl. She's a magnet for bad fortune.

She's done writing. She folds the paper, and puts it in the back pocket of her jeans. She then sighs.

"Jeez, cut it out already" she says out loud. Then she turns her head and looks straight at me. "Just take the shot. You've come so far already, would be a waste if you missed again."

"You heard me comin'?"

She rolls her eyes, and for some reason it seems appropriate for the situation. It's something a normal person would do. "Not that hard to miss. Ha, get it?"

Still holding my crossbow in front of me, I stand up. As always, Vicky doesn't seem the least threatened.

"Why are you hesitating, Grumps? Have you grown soft?"

"Shut up" I say, as I step closer. "Imma just give you a chance to say your final words."

Vicky stares at me for a second, her bruised upper lip slightly raising. Then she bursts out laughing, throwing her head back. She's very loud, but I refuse to look around. Getting ripped apart by walkers seems more fitting for her anyway.

"Seriously? It's come down to this?" she manages to say after a while. "Last time you didn't even flinch."

"That's your choice?"

She raises one eyebrow. "I didn't say that. I was asking you a question. And now I have a theory; I think you missed on purpose."

I snort. "I don't miss when I don't have to."

"Then why did you, smartass? Was it because you needed a private chat with the girl herself? Because, well, I'm all ears now. Oh, and also…" She stands up, and I immediately change the aim with her. She looks at the crossbow, still not impressed, and then takes the note she'd been writing from her pocket. "Could you post this, please?"

She holds out the paper to me. I look at it, and then back to her. "Are you shittin' me?"

She frowns. "Ah, no? How would that work, exactly? Wait, don't wanna know….just, take this to the mailman, alright. If you're giving me a final wish anyway, please grant this one."

I still don't move. She doesn't seem to be joking, and I'm starting to think she reached the highest level of insanity.

Vicky sighs. "Come on, Darlene. Pay some respects."

The stupid nickname sure screws me over, and she sees it. "Shut up."

"Then shoot!" she responds. "You're dragging this out way too long. I'm ready. It's selfish to wait any longer."

I have my finger on the trigger, but I can't move it. "How is it selfish?"

Vicky grimaces. Without any concern about the weapon pointing at her, she spins around on one foot. "You need me."

"Say what?"

"What."

Vicky sits down on the ground, her legs crossed. I follow her movements with my crossbow, but still don't shoot. This is an uncomfortable situation, yet I can't ended it.

"Look, Dary-doo, the thing with you" she continues, "is that you sometimes just need someone to tell you what an asshole you are. And I recently, as in yesterday, when I fell on my head and regained my memories, discovered that I am the perfect person for that job. And you know that too."

"Wait, you remember?"

"I sure do. And…" She stands up. It seems that she for the first time sees the danger of a crossbow. She stares at it and carefully examines it, while continuing to speak. "…I would just like to apologize for stabbing you earlier. And for running off. Well, I'm more sorry that Beth had to be stuck with you because of me. Back then, the thought of you dying was kind of soothing, because I didn't like you very much, and for your information; I still don't. Back then, it wasn't intense hate or anything, which is, for some reason, considered to be more normal when wishing someone dead. Back then, I didn't understand why you were so distant and douchebaggy to me all the frickin' time. But I liked Beth. I really liked Beth. And although I would have loved for you to die then, I also knew that Beth would be alone. And I didn't really think she would survive, not even if she stayed with me."

She paused to sigh. "Turns out neither of us was able to keep her save."

I'm not sure where she's going with this.

"Well, then" Vicky grumbles, "now that we've got the emotional part out of the way, we can move on to the real reason you're not able to pull the trigger." She turns her eyes towards me. "You ready?"

I don't respond. Vicky shrugs her shoulders, steps towards a log and sits down. "Feel free to sit."

I stay quiet. Vicky rolls her eyes again, and almost looks like a normal teenager.

It hits me that I might be one of the few people still alive to have known the normal teenager version of Vicky. Her niece, Katy, has been long gone and we have no idea where she went. Merle and I killed her father, and if I remember it correctly, her uncle lay in the room next door.

I can still faintly see two blue eyes in the dark of the attic of the house. That desperate look. Now that I think about it, the first time we saw Vicky in the prison, she looked kind of similar to back then. We were kind of weirded out by her hospitality, which is a normal response, considering what happened a few months later.

It just looks like she needs someone.

"You got a cigarette?"

I frown. She doesn't look like a smoker-kind-of-person. I don't care whether people smoke or not, that's all their own business. And the fact that she's a minor doesn't bother me either. It just doesn't seem right.

"You must have some on you" Vicky continues. "Just one. I wanna try."

Then it hits me. I snort. "You wanna try because you're gonnna die?"

"That rhymes with pie" she responds. "You should be a poet, like William Wordsworth. I like him. But do you have a cigarette?"

Cigarettes are hard to find these days. And they're also in my chest pocket, which is difficult to open with one hand. Which means I have to put down my crossbow if I want to get them.

Wait.

Why am I even considering?

"Sorry" I say. "They're rare."

Vicky sighs in disappointment. "Man, I was really curious. I've kind of wanted to try one for a while. I wanna try many other things. Can you describe a cigarette to me? Or what it's like to be super drunk? What is the stupidest thing you did while drunk? What's your favourite drink? You kinda look like a beer-kind-of-guy that drinks wine when with his girlfriend. Oh, I know a girlfriend of yours. Annabel, right? She's lovely. Can't really understand how the hell she ever ended up with a dude like you, but oh well, everyone has their taste, no? You know what I've always wanted to try? Roasted cockroaches. No idea if that's a thing, but if it were that would save a lot of trouble. You know how Simba in The Lion King only lives off of bugs because that's all Timon and Pumba eat? I always wondered how Simba was able to grow so strong. Maybe it's a secret formula; if you only eat bugs for a few years you turn into a lion with red manes. Well, I kind of am half way there, but I haven't been eating bugs. Morgan has been taking good care of me. Not that you would care. But I hope you will all take good care of Morgan, because he's very sweet, and kind of fragile. You'll see what I mean, just watch. And if you're an asshole towards him, I'm sure Morgan will be able to teach you a lesson or two. He has taught me a lot, and I hoped he would teach me some more, but oh shit here comes that boy with his crossbow. Kind of sucks, now that I think about it. Oh well. Just tell everyone it's been a good run, and that I would've loved to stay longer, but that I went to bed early, while I secretly snatched my laptop with me under the blankets and watched anime all night. That sounds like heaven to me, although I don't think you know what anime is. I mean, look at you. You're basically a bear morphed with a tree. You're nature, not technology. I don't know what I am, though. Probably something weird like a frog, or something. I like green. Did you know that the opposite colour of green is red? That's right, my hair colour. Crazy, am I right? Everything is connected somehow. I mean, us being here now has been caused by multiple events following each other, which is called the butterfly effect. Did you know that? I learned about it in high school. Not from a teacher, though. There was this random dude who was all into these conspiracy theories. It didn't matter what word you'd say, he'd always have something about it. He once tried to convince me that penguins are actually aliens. That's awesome, right? I sometimes wonder what happened to that guy. If he made it out somehow, if he's still alive. I guess I'll find out once you've shot me. Wait, how does that work? When you die, do you just randomly come across the spirits of the people you loved but died before you? Or do you have to go looking for them yourself? Because that sounds like a pretty difficult job and I'm not really feeling that. I'm kinda lazy. So maybe not shoot me, please. No, scratch that. Just do it already, my mouth is starting to get dry from all this talking. But, no, wait, I still have so many things to do and to say and I wanna dance and I have a dream that one day…."

At this point, her tears make it unable for her to continue speaking. Timing has never been my strong suit, but I know I should do it now. She's done for.

"Wait" she says when she has her breath back. "How's Maggie? How tall is Carl now? Does Rick have a real beard now? And does Daniel still piss his pants? Wait, wait wait wait….Vinnie! Where is he? And Glenn! Glenn, where are you? Oh my god, my girl Michonne! Where she at?! Damn, Tyrese though! And Sasha, and, and…you! How are you doing? How's everything? Got any good-"

I hit her in her right eyeball. Her body shakes for a while, and for two seconds she still stands on her feet. Then her knees give out.

I catch her before she hits the ground. Her red hair and pale skin make the blood look even more red. I sit down, lay my crossbow beside me.

The reason I am crying is not because I regret making this decision. She said it herself; she was tired. We were all tired of this whole mess.

And she was also right by saying that I needed her somehow.

I needed a mirror which could tell me what I would become if I would ever leave Rick's side. And now it's over.

Because I've been searching for the rest of the group, of this family, for months and months. And I found them. And I'm not gonna let anything happen to them.

Vicky cared deeply for all these people, and I think that if she was able to think straight, she would ask me to do anything to keep them save. It didn't matter if she were alive or not; she wouldn't be able to.

"I buried her somewhere in the woods" I later tell Rick. "No idea if she wanted that. Don't really care."