Chapter 37: Hannah

The silence was ironically deafening to her. She threw the gun to one side as her frustrations mounted. Why fuckin' me? Why does everyone else get to keep the people they love and mine keep slippin' away? I can't do this anymore. She gritted her teeth against her rage.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! When will this fuckin' END?" She wailed as she stood violently. She was shaking like a leaf and it took her a few tries to light her smoke. She hated her dumbass self right now. I could have gotten everyone killed! I was so fuckin' STUPID not to check for bites. Acourse no one's the same anymore. Nothin' will ever be the fuckin' same. She turned to look at the band of survivors around her. She'd put all their lives at risk for just a small taste of her old life. Just one last chance at some sort of normalcy in her life. And now, he was gone too. Just like everyone else. She tore her eyes from Cooper's body.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't…I didn't think to check for bites. I just assumed he'd…he'd tell me." Her voice was weak and the tears just wouldn't stop coming, despite her valiant efforts. The grief was overwhelming as the reality of the situation set in. Daryl pulled her into his arms and she shut out the world as best she could, she tried to feel his warmth and skin against hers and quell the tears that were fighting to surge down her face.

"That's right, you assumed. You nearly killed us all!" She heard Shane spit lividly. She knew it was the truth. Why shouldn't they be angry? They had every right to be. Hell, she was angry at herself for letting her own guard down. But Cooper, he was the last tie to her old life, to when things were simple and she didn't have to worry about anything except what to make Noah for dinner.

"Shane, that's enough. Let the woman grieve for Christ's sake." Andrea spoke, her words full of distaste at the fact that he was pulling something like this right now. Fuck, Cooper's body wasn't even cold yet.

"Let her grieve? How about you starting thinking about this, people. It don't matter who the fuck he was…he-was-bitten. Ya know what that means? That means he turns into a fucking walker and then we're all fucked." Shane continued his rant and Hannah didn't even care. Let him lecture her, she deserved it. The world was blurry for a second and she had to shut her eyes hard to restore clarity. She wasn't sure whether it was the booze or the shock, but she assumed it was probably a little of both.

"You best shut yer fuckin' mouth there, Dumbo. Ya heard what blondie said, let the lady fuckin' grieve. We ain't fuckin' animals." Merle's voice was defensive and she was surprised the older Dixon had even jumped to her defense. She peeled herself out of Daryl's arms, ready to be done with this whole group for the night. She pushed Merle back slightly as she wiped her eyes, doing her best to regain her composure and avoid a fight. She didn't need that right now. What she needed was a bottle and some time alone.

"No….No, he's right. Shane's right. It was my fault. I should have looked and I didn't. But you fuckin' think about this, Shane. I didn't see you lookin' the fuck either." She pointed out, shoving a hard finger into his chest before taking off for the tent. She searched frantically and found a half empty bottle of whatever and chugged a few shots before sitting wearily on the bed. Her mind was floating everywhere and she couldn't do it, she couldn't handle this world anymore. For the first time since she was 17, Hannah contemplated taking her own life. The last time she'd almost accomplished it. She would have bled out on the floor of her room if Zack hadn't walked in. It seemed like such a simple solution to everything. Hell, maybe she could even sneak some of Merle's pills. She liked the idea of that, slipping away into a clouded sleep. A pang of guilt sailed through her as Daryl's face appeared in her mind. She couldn't leave him, not like that. She loved him too much for that. What the FUCK am I talkin' about here? Suicide? Hell no, I'm better then that. She mentally smacked herself as she chugged some more of the bottle. She was just so tired of watching everyone she cared about become one of them, one of those soulless creatures. She pushed the thoughts of her last dream from her head. She couldn't help but think that maybe it was just a matter of time before it was him she was putting a bullet into. She shook her head. He ain't goin' nowhere, so quit yer worryin'. She scolded herself. But Cooper, that'd been so different. He was here and gone so fast, she wasn't even sure it'd been real, but the blood that was sprayed on her quaking hands told her it was. She did her best to keep her calm as Daryl and Merle entered the tent. She was mad she'd even cried at all in front of everyone. Hannah McClure didn't cry. She sipped furiously again, loathing the way her lip wouldn't stop quivering and her hands couldn't stop shaking. And then, unexpectedly, Daryl's arms were slipping around her and the tears were exploding before she could even think to stop them. She sobbed, knowing that she might as well get it out now. She could feel Merle's eyes on her and she felt like a fuckin' pussy. She was stronger then this. She'd been through so much more then this before. That's enough, Hannah Mae. This is life now and ya can't start cryin' the second someone gets bit. Life isn't fair, it ain't ever been fair, so quit feelin' sorry fer yerself. You'll make it through this. She reprimanded herself. She sat up, wiping the mess from her face.

"No. Ain't no use in cryin' and feelin' sorry for myself. It's done and I can't change that." She knew that she was talking to herself through them now. She needed to hear herself say it out loud. She chugged more of the liquor as Merle dug through that mystery drug bag of his, carefully grinding and cutting a few lines before sniffing them hungrily. She took a few more hearty sips as Daryl found his own bottle.

"Shane's such a fuckin' douche bag!" Daryl mumbled, finally breaking the hushed silence of the tent.

"Yer just realizin' this now, little brother? I'd love to kick that dago's fuckin' ass, sayin shit like that." Merle said, repulsed. Hannah didn't want to think about what had just happened anymore. She wanted to talk about anything other then tonight. Part of her wished Cooper hadn't even showed up in the first place, but then she pictured him dying in his car somewhere along the cluttered highway, alone and terrified. She was curious to see what he even had in his car. She slammed down a few more shots, happy to see that her vision was getting that haze around it. She stumbled from the tent, ignoring the few people that lingered around the low campfire. She ignored their looks of pity, and the feeling of fear they got when they saw her. They looked at her like she was likely to explode and any second, and they weren't wrong. She felt like she was a bomb, ready to detonate, but she pushed those feeling away. There was no time to feel in this indifferent world, feelings were what got you killed. Walkers didn't care if you were sad, or angry, all they cared about is whether or not you were alive. She hated it so much, that her new existence had made her detached like she was. She couldn't care, because caring meant getting hurt all over again. She'd already broken her promise to herself when she'd fallen in love with Daryl, but love didn't wait. Love didn't care the same as walkers didn't. It happened quicker than lighting and she didn't mind. Daryl gave her something to fight for, something to hope for. She had someone who cared if she was gone. His words resonated into her brain.

"You're not alone in this anymore. Neither of us are…" She smiled some, sipping from the low amount of booze left in her bottle. The doors to his green Buick were open and she looked around as she sat in the passenger seat. This car was Cooper. He'd had it probably since before she was born. Everything about it haunted her with images of him. Christ, it even smelled like his aftershave. He had a few cans of food and empty water containers thrown about everywhere. The ashtray was full of butts smoked down past the filter. Camels, typical Coop. She smiled to herself. There was a worn out blanket in the backseat, not that anyone really slept nowadays. She opened the back door, finding his Ruger M77 Hawkeye laying across the back seat. She slid a hand across it, seeing how much ammo he had left. Half a box and that was it. She finished the bottle and threw it among the other various trash in the car as she popped the trunk. He had a small arsenal in there, which made sense since he owned a small gun range not too far from his house in Mississippi. She walked back up to the fire, knowing her words would be slightly slurred by this point.

"Rick, C'mere. I wanna show you this." She waved him to the trunk, watching as his face lit up at the sight.

"Well I'll be damned! Now, yer sure you can part with 'em?" He asked, studying her face. She nodded, forcing herself to smile.

"Course. We'll all need 'em tomorrow anyways. More guns, the better." She shrugged as she dug around the random boxes of ammo, finding some for her gun.

"'s all I need, really." She said simply. His face relaxed a little bit and for once, she could see a tiny ray of hope in his eyes.

"Thank you, for everything." He said genuinely. She nodded, sitting once again in the front seat as she lit a smoke. She puffed pensively, surveying the camp and it's people. They probably thought she was fuckin' insane, and hell, maybe she was. People had never really been her strong suit and that sure as hell wasn't changing anytime soon. The world was fuzzy now and her thoughts were blurry. She laid her head back, closing her eyes and let the darkness of sleep envelop her.