I watched silently from the window seat of the bedroom as the fiery orange sun rose from behind a faraway, tree laden hill and coated everything it touched in a gentle golden light. I turned my head towards the perfectly made up bed behind me, my head still swimming in my consuming guilt. Leaning my head back against the cold wall behind me, I blinked the last of an entire night's worth of tears from my weary eyes and dug my knuckles into my sunken eyes. After it had happened last night I stayed with him for as long as I could, but Rick and Dale insisted that I let them take him outside to be buried later in the morning. They removed him from the house and I ran up here and locked the door, longing for the company of nobody but myself until I felt better about what I'd done. Several people called in to me, but I didn't reply. Part of me wanted them to believe that I was dead, and that there was no point talking to me...but I'd had enough of death for one lifetime.

Swinging my legs heavily from the seat, I took a deep breath and sighed. It was too quiet in the room on my own, and it felt bare and cold despite my broken presence within it. The steady tick of the clock on the wall accentuated how long I'd been in there alone with myself, listening to the screaming cries of the memories I now had to carry with me forever. I ran my hands through my matted, blood flecked hair and made the second hardest decision I'd ever made.

The funeral (if you could even call throwing somebody in the ground and listening to people who don't know them talk about them a funeral) was awful. There's nothing else I can say about the funeral.

I wandered out into the back yard to just give the place one final look. All the walkers had cleared away, clearly no longer entertained by the fretting survivors inside and I was able to stroll around for a few minutes with my hands buried deep within my pockets. I walked a few metres from the house before stopping, something caught my eye lying on the ground that I felt couldn't go ignored. I crouched down and picked up the glinting, red knife with shining knuckleduster that I'd given Daryl months before. I turned it over a few times in my freshly cleaned hand, before stowing it in my pocket and standing up again. I wandered back into the house, and I took one final glance at the spot where I'd found it, the spot where the bravest, most reckless person I'd ever known had fallen and carried on walking down the now uncaring corridors.

I'd picked up the rest of my stuff when I'd gone back through the house, not that there were many things to collect. The old photo album from my first house, the katana and the revolver. There wasn't anything left for me, so I made my way quietly and without fuss to the front door, and slipped away while nobody was looking.

I ran my hand almost gingerly across the black leather seat of the SS motorbike out front and gripped the high handlebar with one hand. I threw all of my stuff in the wrinkled saddlebag and swung my leg over the top so that I was sat in the front seat. I clutched both handles for a few seconds, trying to get a feel of the bike I was about to leave on when Rick stepped out of the house, SUV keys in hand, presumably to look for something in there. When he saw me sitting on the bike and ready to go he frowned deeply at me and jogged over.

"Where d'you think you're going?" He asked, stunned. I stared at him with hard eyes for a few seconds, trying to work out what his reaction would be, or whether I should tell him the truth or not. This man had opened his arms up to me a year earlier...he deserved to know the truth.

"I'm leaving...and there's nothing anybody can do or say that's gonna change my mind." I told him, my voice bitter with loss and sadness. He sighed and looked imploringly at me.

"We all feel bad about what happened, but nobody else is runnin' away in secret. Come back inside and we can talk about it." He told me, putting his hands on his hips, waiting for me to follow him in. I stared coldly at him instead.

"I'm not going back inside, Rick, and I'm not talking to anybody about it either. He's dead, I'm leaving, conversation over." I snapped, kicking the bike into action. It roared, as if cheering the rider on in a rumbling, aggressive tone. It continued to rumble loudly, as I wanted to show Rick how little I wanted to talk. He looked defeatedly at me.

"So you're leaving then." He stated sadly over the roar of the bike. I nodded at him.

"I'm sorry Rick, and I really appreciate everything you did for me, even if I was an ass at times. Just...tell them I'm gone. Don't tell them I ran away, or that I died. Just that I'm gone...and that I'm sorry." I finalised, with a weak smile I pointed to my face and started the bike rolling away from him.

"Don't forget me, yeah?" I laughed and screeched off onto the nearby highway, opposite direction to the house and the camp and within seconds I was gone. Out of their lives forever.

That's where I am now. I'm sat on the hot leather seat of the silver and black SS bike that once belonged to Merle and Daryl Dixon, getting some serious distance from the survivors with furious speed. Evening's beginning to fall now, but as long as I keep moving I'll be okay. I've been running away like this for a few years now; finding places to stay and living there, moving on and finding someplace else whenever I need to. My mind wanders back to him every now and then, and I wonder with a cheery sadness what would have happened if things had gone just a bit differently on that cold November night, whether I'd still be part of that weathered band of people or whether I'd be where I am now, tearing down this anonymous stretch of American highway, running from something nameless that I know I'll never really escape from.

All I can say now for certain is that Daryl Dixon was the one person that made better the dark void inside me and he was the one person that looked out for me without fail in times of great need. To me, this means that despite our massive differences and flaws, I'll always consider him as one of my own.

Gah! I don't know how I feel about ending this...sad, really, I massively enjoyed writing it, and I hope you enjoyed reading it! This story's come to a natural end, but I've started writing another, only this time with a different OC and different sorts of relationships begin to emerge...there may even be a few familiar faces...

Thank you again, I sincerely hope you rejoin me for a spot of fluff in the new fanfic. -Hannah