I really like this chapter...the most emotional ones are the best

Words: 2,836

When you knock one domino over, the rest fall one by one right after it. After the others, minus Aidan and Noah, return from the run with an injured Tara, things seem to continue downhill.

Charlie thinks she knew, deep down. Or maybe not so deep. Maybe she buried it. She feels ashamed for that. It's obvious to people who know...who've seen it. Pete's hitting Jessie. She doesn't find out for sure until he and Rick fight. It's a big scene. Everyone sees the two men bashing each other's faces in in the middle of the street. Until Michonne knocks Rick out.

Charlie feels as if her mind is lagging behind everything. Ever since she learned that Noah...about what happened, it's like she's moving slower than those around her. Maybe she hadn't known him that well but he was her friend. They were starting to be friends and then...

Something bad always happens. Charlie tells herself this all the time. But somehow, every time that bad thing happens, it always hits hard. People die all the time, before and now. Just now, it happens more. She wonders why it even matters.

The night of the meeting, things are oddly quiet. Charlie says screw it and goes. No one bothers to tell her not to. And of course, that goes to shit. Just like everything else. Pete kills Reg and Rick kills Pete. Charlie kind of liked that old guy. Maybe she should stop liking people. It seems they die every time she does.

Daryl and Aaron return just in time to see the show. Morgan, an old friend of Rick's, in tow. Charlie didn't stick around long. Being around all those people, it's felt like she couldn't breathe.

The stars are bright tonight but Charlie isn't looking to them. She hugs her legs to her chest, her chin resting on her knees, eyes closed. There's a chill in the air, barely warded off by her thin shirt. She doesn't feel like moving, much less going inside to get a jacket.

When Daryl pushes open the door to her room, he looks around but doesn't see her. The wind blows in through the open window, ruffling the curtains. Sighing, he grabs the blanket from the end of the bed before crawling out onto the roof.

Charlie glances at him but doesn't move otherwise. Not even when Daryl places the blanket over her shoulders or when he sits next to her. She wants to talk, but she just can't. The simple action feels impossible. Her entire body feels weighed down by something so heavy. Something she doesn't have the strength to lift.

But the thing is, she doesn't have to talk. There's no need. Daryl sits by her side, as silent as herself. He makes no move to speak nor any indication that he wants her to. He just sits. Silently by her side, throughout the night.

Trees. That's all she can see. For miles around her, there's nothing but trees. Or as far as she can see, at least. The wind ruffles the fallen leaves on the ground around Charlie and she closes her eyes against it, breathing deeply.

A snarling is what pulls her from her moment. Charlie opens her tired eyes slowly and turns to see a single walker approaching her. She sighs in annoyance and removes her knife. She waits until the undead man gets close enough, his arms outstretched, before sinking the blade into his skull.

"Great," Shaking her head, Charlie wipes the bloody blade off before returning it to its sheath. She looks down at the red splattered onto her own clothes and bites her lip.

Groaning in frustration, Charlie delivers a kick to the body lying at her feet. And then one more for good measure.

The peaceful scene ruined, Charlie starts back through the forest. She's going nowhere in particular, she just had to get out from behind those walls. Get away from all those people. She loves her people, she does, but they're overbearing.

Everyone's giving her odd looks and she doesn't like it. She's two seconds away from snapping and that'll only make things worse. So her solution is to leave without anyone knowing. That'll go over well. In her defense, she'd planned on being back before anyone noticed. They're all a bit busy right now, anyway. But since she got out here, she hasn't been able to bring herself to go back.

Along her way to...where ever, Charlie runs into more walkers. She puts each one of them down, the tension in her shoulders easing with every stab or with every shot she takes at them.

Eventually, the soft forest floor under her feet is replaced by concrete. Charlie looks around the small town with narrowed eyes. She looks around once before entering.

Dead bodies litter the streets. Old, broken-down cars line the roads. Charlie, caught in her head, walks beside them without a second glance. She should've known better. Well, she does, that's why it's such a stupid mistake.

A split second later, Charlie finders herself gasping for breath after her back hits the ground harshly. Both arms are above her, fighting off the jaws snapping at her from above. She thinks she hit her head if the tight pain shooting through her skull is anything to go by.

Dark spots swirl in the corner of her vision and she tries to reach for her knife. But her hands. It's like they're not attached to her body. They won't listen to her commands.

Suddenly, the monster on top of her stops moving. Charlie's arms give out, once again without her permission, and the walker falls onto her, lying limply. His weight feels crushing, Charlie blinks her in an attempt to clear her blurry vision and winces. Her head really hurts.

Just as quickly as it was there, the weight on her is gone. The walker is ripped off of her, finally allowing Charlie to take a deep breath. Then she's sitting up. Charlie knows she didn't do that, she's not sure her body would've listened to the command. Hands are on her face and shoulders and oddly, she doesn't feel threatened.

"Charlie?" Oh yeah, it makes sense now. Daryl isn't a threat. "Kid, look at me," Charlie blinks again and tries to follow the order. She turns her head and tries to meet his eyes but she's not sure if she does. "Shit."

When a hand presses against the back of her head, Charlie winces and shifts away from it. "Damn it," With another curse from Daryl, Charlie feels her mind clearing. Head injuries are the worst.

"M'fine," She mumbles but makes no move to stand. She's not so sure she can right now.

"You're bleeding," Daryl argues, hold his bloodied fingers out in front of her to see but Charlie pushes his arm down. "Stop. Let's go," Grasping firmly onto her arms, Daryl helps Charlie stumble to her feet. "The hell were you thinking?" Daryl doesn't push when Charlie doesn't answer. He'll wait until her eyes don't look so glazed over and unfocused to ask again. If she doesn't give him a stroke before then.

He can't believe this. He thought she knew better. Yes, Charlie is a teenager but she's had to grow up faster than most. Daryl's met adults more reckless and less mature than her. So he doesn't think her recent behavior is just her 'being a teenager'. No, there's more to it, he's sure. He just doesn't know what. And she won't just talk to him.

When he couldn't find her, he'd asked around. No one had seen her since that morning. Not even Carl knew where she was. She always checks up on the boy and his sister multiple times. It didn't take a genius to figure out she'd left. Especially since he couldn't find her weapons. She doesn't carry her bow around behind the wall. It stays next to her bed where it wasn't when he'd looked.

She hadn't been trying to cover her tracks through the woods. The trail of dead walkers was hard to miss. When he'd followed them into the town and seen that walker on top of her, he's sure he'd had a heart attack. And she hadn't moved. Hadn't tried to get up after he'd killed it. Then it was like she couldn't hear him. He'd been freaking out until the moment he saw her eyes. He's seen enough concussions to know what one looks like.

With an arm around her shoulders to steady her, Daryl starts the trek back to Alexandria. It's a long walk but he doesn't want to waste time trying to get one of these shit cars to work.

When her feet get tangled, Charlie reaches to steady herself on a nearby tree. When her hand makes contact with the bark, she winces and pulls her arm back to herself. Daryl has to prevent her from falling and once he's sure she's steady, he gently grabs onto her wrist.

"S'fine," Ignore her protests, Daryl studies her swollen wrists and bends it slowly. He stops the moment Charlie inhales sharply.

"Sprained," He tells her before continuing to walk. Nothing to do about it now, not until they get back.

When they arrive at Alexandria, they're greeted with the worried faces of nearly the whole group. Daryl has to stop himself from rolling his eyes. He knows they care but all the attention is the last thing Charlie needs.

Now more steady on her feet, the teenager keeps her head down and pushes away from him, storming past the others. Daryl sighs and marches after her. Maggie tries to say something but he stops her by raising his hand. He'll feel bad for that later.

At least she doesn't try to run off somewhere else, Daryl thinks while following Charlie into the infirmary. He slowly enters, watching the teenager grab an ace bandage from the shelf. Of course, she's not going to ask for help.

Shaking his head, Daryl moves and grabs the bandage from her. Charlie tries to take it back but he moves it out of her reach and points to the bed. She glares but sits anyway. "Let me see," Holding his free hand out, Daryl waits until she offers her arm to starts wrapping it. "Won't be able to use that until this is healed." He says with a nod towards her bow. But when he looks up, it's to see Charlie's closed her eyes.

Sighing, the archer finishes wrapping her wrist before placing it in her lap. He then leans to look over her shoulder and moves her hair. There's a gash on the back of her head where it hit the hard ground, but it's not bad. Head wounds just bleed a lot, her hair is nearly soaked. But it's stopped on its own. Daryl continues silently to work and cleans the wound best he can.

Denise appears soon after, awkwardly offering her help. She checks Charlie's eyes before asking her a few questions. "How's the pain?"

"It's not bad," Charlie mumbles, forgoing a shrug.

"How many fingers am I holding up?" Charlie raises a single eyebrow but answers anyway. "Good, good, uh, you know you're name and stuff, right?"

"I'm starting to wish I didn't," Charlie whispers to herself but nods to Denise.

"What's three hundred and eight times nine?" Denise asks next and Charlie blinks but answers quickly.

"Three-thousand-four-hundred and two. Can I go now?"

"I don't actually know if that's right," Denise admits.

"It is," Charlie insists and jumps to her feet. Her head spins just a little but she doesn't let it show. "I don't have any memory loss, I have my balance back and I can hold a conversation. But that doesn't mean I want to, I'm leaving."

Quickly moving outside, Charlie walks down the street...not towards home, but the house she currently lives in, Daryl hot on her heels. Now that he's sure she's going to be fine, he's pissed.

Walking into her room, Charlie sits on the edge of her bed and pinches the bridge of her nose. She hears her door close but doesn't look up. She doesn't have to to know that Daryl is fuming.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Repeating his earlier question, Daryl moves to stand in front of the teenager.

"I wasn't," Charlie admits quietly. She knows she was in the wrong. Though it's frustrating to say. But she doesn't want to fight, she wants to go to sleep, her head is killing her.

"No, you weren't," Daryl grounds out between clenched teeth. "You could've gotten yourself killed. Almost did!"

"You don't think I know that?" Charlie snaps, finally lifting her head to look up at him. She's nowhere near as tall as him but she stands anyway, making herself just a little bit closer to his height. "I made a mistake, it was stupid. But it's over now, I'm fine!"

"Stop," Daryl insists. "Stop saying that. You're not."

"You don't get it," She's not saying he doesn't understand, cause she's sure he would.

"Then explain," Daryl pushes, jaw still clenched.

"I don't-" Charlie falters and looks to the side when she can no longer look at him. "You left. And I know I said I was okay with it. And I honestly thought I was. But then Noah...and you weren't here. And I feel like I can't breathe. I can't breathe and I don't know what to do." Charlie blinks the tears from her eyes and sniffs. Daryl lifts a hand but she steps away from him.

"I killed people," It sounds so stupid, but is there any other way to phrase it? "Self-defense or not, it doesn't make it better. I can still see their faces. All the time. And if it's not that...it's like I'm back out there again. Alone and they're chasing me. Except this time, I don't get away."

She feels ridiculous. This shouldn't still be bothering her. She's fine! She's here now, with her people, behind these walls. She's safe, she should be okay. But she doesn't feel okay.

"You did what you had to,"

"Yeah, that's what I've been telling myself," Charlie mumbles. "It doesn't help."

Moving around the room, Daryl walks around Charlie to stand in front of her again. "I don't give a shit who you killed or how many. Because you're here. And if that means they can't be, then I don't care."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

"Didn't really think it would,"

"Then why'd you say it?"

"Because you need to know," Daryl insists, bending down to catch her gaze. "You-..."

"I'm going to make you say it," Charlie says after he pauses for a few moments. Normally, she might let him get away with it. Accept the unsaid words for what they are. But not this time.

"You're important to me," Daryl manages to get out. "And I can't lose you. Not again." Wiping her eyes, Charlie nods shakily. "And I shouldn't've left. I won't again." She doesn't care if it's selfish, she's not going to argue that he doesn't have to stay, not for her.

Leaning forward, Charlie rests her head on his chest and releases a tired sigh. If she thought her head hurt before, she was wrong. It's pounding with every beat of her heart now. "Come on," Daryl mumbles, guiding her with a hand on her back.

Going without a fight, Charlie all but falls onto her bed. She only then remembers she's still wearing her shoes, but before she can sit up again to remove them, Daryl does it for her. She's too tired to care and lets him while pulling the covers over her shoulders. "I'll check up later," Daryl mumbles to the half asleep girl. He brushes a strand of her hair out of her face before quietly leaving the room.

Did this seem OOC any? I tried my best. Emotional scenes are not my strong point because I'm emotionally stunted. And it's funny because so are the characters. Also, this chapter takes place after Pete killed Reg and Rick killed Pete. That's...a lot.

Well, Charlie still isn't as good mentally as she acts. But are any of us really? Daryl's a good d̶a̶d̶ big brother so it's all good.. Well it's not but oh well.

What did you guys think!? I'm ready to further this story, I have so many scenes (one in particular that you'll probably hate or love me for. It's a gamble, really) I'm so excited to write and share with you guys!

Reviews always help to encourage and give me the badly needed motivation to continue writing! Never be scared to leave one or that it won't be enough! Thanks for reading!

Until next time, friends!

'-'