CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
I woke up to an empty bed. At first I was confused, thinking that maybe I had sent Daryl away last night and all the cuddling had been a figment of my imagination; a dream conjured from my wanting of Daryl and our happiness. But, after I wiped sleep out of my eyes and came to, I realized that it wasn't a dream. It had really happened.

I waited for a little bit, wondering if he'd come back or if I'd hear his voice outside. Somebody had started the fire, but there weren't two voices. So either Michonne was still asleep, or Daryl was off somewhere. It was also very possible that Daryl had gotten too hot last night and crawled out to find a better arrangement.

I crawled out of the tent, to be greeted by a Michonne eating her daily oatmeal. I have her a quick smile and looked around, no sign of Daryl. Had he gone to get something from the car? Was he taking a piss?

"Where's Daryl?" I asked, stretching out my legs. I walked over to her, my hands in my pajama pants pockets as I stood by the fire. It wasn't cold really, but there was a slight summer morning chill.

"You just missed him," she looked up from her bowl, her face grim. I went rigid. Oh god.

"Where's Daryl?" I repeated, scanning the woods for him like he'd pop out and say 'here I am!'

"He went to the cabin, but listen Kyra-" I cut her off.

"How could you not wake me up!?" I screamed, stunned by her obviously stupid actions. It was basically betrayal.

"You have to let him do this!" Michonne stood up and I wanted to punch her in the face. Of course I wouldn't because Michonne was a bad ass who could lay me out, I was not. "I know how he feels. I wanted to hurt the Governor, and I'll always live with that! You have to let him-"

"No, Michonne! This was my battle!" I screamed. "I needed this! Not him!" I spun on my heels, my bare feet crunching against leaves as I sprinted away from the campsite, to the cabin.

Michonne called after me, but she didn't chase me. With every step, her voice began getting more distant and eventually I could no longer hear it.

God this was so much further than I remember. It felt like time was slowing down to an absolute nothing. My foot stomped on a random rock and I cried out from the pain, knowing it would hurt for a little bit. But, I kept going, ignoring the early signs of my daily head ache and pushing through. I came to the creek, and stopped. I could see the door slam shut from the back of the cabin and my heart pounded faster again.

I tore off again, slipping through the creek and nearly falling. But, eventually I reached the end and then I was back to running. My feet pounded against gravel and dirt and random sharp objects that I swear weren't there before, but I didn't feel anything. If he killed Jack before I could, so help me god I would never forgive him.

I ran up the stairs, trying to not trip. I've tripped up the steep things just walking, let alone running. I reached the door at what felt like hours later.

I jerked the wooden door open and stomped inside to see Miriam screaming, cowering in a corner with Belle underneath her, crying, and Daryl, angry and shouting at Jack, who was pinned to the wall by Daryl.

"Daryl!" I screamed, running over, he threw Jack on the floor, who curled up in a ball, already bleeding from the nose and would probably have a black eye from the looks of it.

"Kyra," he turned to me and it was the first time I'd truly seen him angry. Like he could really kill someone out of just anger, "get out of here. It'll all be over in a minute." What the hell?

He pulled out a gun from his pocket, my gun. I looked over to see Miriam's eyes widen and her fly to put a hand over Belle's eyes.

"Daryl! Please don't do this!" she screamed over and over again.

"Get her out of here," I told her, pointing at Belle and then the door. Daryl was busy loading one bullet in the gun. Miriam stared at me dumbfounded. "Now!" I screamed.

"Do we wait on the porch?" she asked and I was then reminded of how stupid she was.

"No! Get in the truck and just keep driving. Don't come back for at least an hour." I ordered, waiting only until she ran out of the door with Belle before I turned back to Daryl.

I grabbed his arm and attempted to pull him away. His hands were shaking and he had just now put the bullet in.

"Daryl, no!" I yelled, failing at dragging him away. "You promised I could do this! You know that I need to do this!"

Jack crawled over to me, his hands clinging to my foot.

"Please, Kyra, please," he begged. I wanted to vomit.

"Get off her!" Daryl yelled, reading back and kicking Jack in the ribs repeatedly.

"Daryl!" I screamed, trying to push him off Jack. It only made him worse. He bent down and picked Jack up by his shirt, throwing him into the fire place. He landed with a sickening thud. Something was definitely broken. Jack cried out, arching his back in pain. He whimpered as he tried to crawl away from Daryl, who marched over and pulled Jack up by his hair. Jack screamed and Daryl shoved him face first into the brick.

"Stop it!" I dove in front of him, prying him away from Jack as I pushed him further from Daryl with my foot. He was conscious, but barely.

"Daryl," he pressed against me, looking over my head at Jack. He sneered when I pushed him back, "Daryl," I tried again, both of my hands firmly on his chest, "breathe. You said I could do this. Now why the hell you came in here and beat the living hell out of him in front of his family, I will never understand. But, I have to do this, Daryl." I was eerily calm, saying every word with meaning. I was trying to get through his anger, but his eyes were clouded over and he shook with repressed anger.

He pushed past me, knocking me into the small drawer by the couch. I quickly got up in time to see him whip my gun out and point it in Jacks face, who began weeping.

"Daryl, you're a good man," he slurred, his nose was definitely broken. It was bleeding in two different place, out his nostrils and from a cut at the bridge, and I swear I could see gone.

"No, I'm not," Daryl responded curtly, kicking Jack in the gut. Even I shrank back at his words. Daryl was a good man, a great man. Did he not know that? He had saved people, killed himself trying to save children who couldn't defend themselves, he rose from his battered back ground and was someone his brother could never be. How did he think he wasn't a good person?

He picked Jack back up, even though he was still on his knees, his head was up. He looked like a sinner begging for forgiveness at a church and my mind flashed back to the time at the prison when Daryl was giving presents out to kids and I had joked that they looked at him like he was Jesus. Now, with Jack begging for mercy and Daryl pointing a gun at his face, I would never joke about that again.

Daryl glanced at me and with one anger filled movement, he thrusted the gun in my hand and pushed me forward. So, I was supposed to kill him? I didn't think this moment would happen for a good long while. But here I was with the perfect opportunity. I felt like this was a Bonnie and Clyde moment. Daryl beat the living shit out of this man and I was the one who got to finally end it all in one sweet moment.

But as I pulled the hammer back and pushed the gun against his forehead, even through Jack's sobs and cries for mercy, I thought about Belle and Miriam. I thought about my dad. I had figured that people killing people was over. That everybody just needed to help everybody now. But, my dad had been shot and killed. I hated the Governor for it. So, what makes me any better?

'You were raped by this man,' a voice whispered in my head, 'he took your purity, bruised you, hurt you. It's only right that he gets what was coming to him.' But does he?

I frustratingly hit him with the handle of the gun in the side of the head. He fell over, already weak.

"God!" I screamed, shooting the gun through the window and throwing the unloaded weapon in the floor. At the sound of the shot, Jack had screamed and covered his head. But all that hit him were flying shards of glass. My ears were ringing, but I continued. "Do you know what's sick?" I asked, bending down beside Jack. "You raped me. You hurt me. You're the reason I have this stupid bulky bandage on my head," I gestured to my head, still wrapped up. Michonne was going to cut the stitches out in two days. "And I can't even kill you!" I pushed his shoulder and he bounced back like a balloon.

"Why?" He asked weakly. Good.

"Because, I can't waste me being a good person on slum like you. Daryl is too good to do it. I won't let him do it. Because you are going to die. You'll get bit by a Walker or maybe Miriam will come to and kill your ass in your sleep, but you'll die. And when you do God will judge you." I lowered my voice to attempt to sound more threatening. I think it worked. "You will have to stand before him and confess to him. What will he say when you tell him you raped me?" I slowly stood up, leaving him laying in the floor. I should have killed him when I had the chance. When the atmosphere was right. I knew Daryl was disappointed in me. But he didn't know how pissed I was at him.

Daryl picked up the gun and walked out the door. I spit on Jack before I left, swiftly turning and following behind Daryl.

I was boiling, my emotional level about to tip over board. Too much had happened in a ten minute time frame. I wanted to scream and howl and punch stuff. But I walked past Daryl, my bare feet beginning to hurt as my adrenaline wore off.

"Kyra," he said stiffly, reaching for me. I spun around to face him, trying not to yell.

"No. No, Daryl. Don't touch me, don't talk to me, don't look at me." I pointed a shaking finger at him and waited for his response.

"You came all the way from the camp bare footed?" was all he asked, tilting his head and looking at my extremely dirty feet. I threw my hands up in the air in frustration.

"Yes! Because god knows what you would have done if I wouldn't have came when I did!" I yelled, my eyes slanted accusingly and I pursed my lips.

"I got scared. I didn't want to leave and never have the satisfaction of being able to beat the living hell out of him." It was a good point. We were leaving today and if all checked out, we wouldn't be coming back.

I sighed loudly, putting one hand on my hip. I rolled my eyes dramatically and he smiled lightly.

"You should have at least told me," I mumbled, realizing I didn't want to argue. We were spending too much time arguing.

"Come on, sassy pants," he started walking. "Do your feet hurt?"

"Uh, yes. And if you ever call me sassy pants again I may hit you," I joked. It was unbelievable. We about committed a tag team murder in there and now we were joking around.

"I'll give you a ride," he said, stopping and bending slightly. I jumped on his back and wrapped my legs around his waist. Both of his hands went around my legs and we continued our journey, my arms hanging lazily around his shoulders.

"Are we both satisfied?" he asked a moment later after we'd crossed the creek.

"I am. Are you?" I asked, running my index finger over his collar bone, something I found he rather enjoyed.

"For now," he said it nonchalantly, like he could just comeback whenever and finish the job if needed.

"Daryl, after we leave we're not coming back," I warned him, my other hand snaked it's way in his shirt through his missing sleeve and danced across his chest.

"Are you trying make me avoid this topic?" he asked, one hand rubbing my bare leg instead of holding it. I was desperately glad I chose shorts once again over jeans.

"No, just enjoying this," I nibbled his ear, and chuckled, resting my head on top of his.

"Well, you're a tease. I've learned that over the year I've known you."

Had it really only been a year? I felt like we've known each other for years upon years.

"I'll tell you what," I said, kissing the top of his head.

"What?"

"When we get settled in, we'll do more than tease," I whispered as the camp ground came into view.

"Sounds good to me," he grunted, dropping me.

/

Have any of you seen Norman Reedus in his early twenties? Good god that man. Phew. Just think how gorgeous he is now. Now, flash back to twenty years ago. My my!

Review!

I thought about doing a sequel to this story, (it's still got a few chapters left but idk) but I don't know. Maybe I'll just do an epilogue and end it after a few more chapters. What'd you say? I would need some loyal fans because the sequel would purely have nothing to do with the actual show.