Another chapter for another day. Happy Valentine's Day to all of you. I'm lonely, ugly, and single, but it's okay. I have my FanFiction to keep me company. Anyway, what are your plans?

enjoy!

Daryl POV

"Thanks for the memories, even though they weren't so good."- Thanks for the Memories, Fall Out Boy

I pulled my sweaty t-shirt over my head, sighing as it came off of me, like some weight had been released. It was cold outside. I think it's February, but that's just a guess. Some of the others were counting, but I didn't really see the point in it. It wasn't like I had much to look forward to.

I looked at myself in the mirror. I was getting thin from the lack food and all the running around. I had been eating a lot less than some of the others. I didn't need it as much as they did. I was raised in a world where I had to get my own food. I had gone days without food before, so I could handle it. I definitely didn't have to eat as much as Lori, and Nicole needed food more than she was letting on. She was so used to putting on a brave face for everyone else that she wasn't willing to admit it to herself.

My skin still burned from her touch. It was weird, I never felt this way. Ever. I'm not some emotional guy. I don't open up to people, but for some reason, she just did that to me.

The scar on my chest was even more prominent now, with my weight loss, sitting there on my chest like a brand, marking me as a victim. It was jagged, running all the way from my collar bone to the end of my rib cage. I had had that scar since I was fourteen, courtesy of my drunk ass father, his buddies, and a shattered bottle of cheap whiskey. As soon as it had happened, my father had brought me to the hospital, got me stitched up, and took me home. Told me that if I ever told anyone it would get worse. I never told anyone. Not my mother, not Merle, out of fear of what my father would do. To this day, I still kept it secret. I wasn't afraid of my father anymore, but at this point, I was more ashamed than anything else. I was supposed to be some strong man, but I still didn't have the guts to tell anyone.

I grabbed the rusted handle on the sink and turned it, letting the cold water flow in a small, steady stream. I reached my hands under, letting the water rinse the dirt and blood off of my hands. I scrubbed slowly, working it all away. I cupped my hands, gathered a small pool and splashed my face. The water was nice and refreshing, hitting me like a wall. I rubbed my face, trying to get it as clean as possible.

I did this for a few minutes, just letting the water relax my tired body and mind. I was washing away everything that had just happened, getting it out of my already cluttered brain.

"Oh shit!" Glenn's voice screamed from downstairs, followed by a loud rustling noise. "Everybody! We gotta move. We got walkers coming in from the north and south!"

I groaned out loud, completely fed up with these flesh eating bastards. Could I just have a few uninterrupted days? Apparently not. I grabbed my ratty shirt and pulled it back on, before I ripped the door open.

The house was crazy, but it was organized chaos. We had been through this routine so many times that it was a habit at this point. Settle down, find some food, get clean, get attacked, leave. It was as simple as that. Maggie, Beth, and Hershel flew past me and down the stairs in a blur, their bags and weapons in hand. Maggie had some extra necessities, Hershel had the medical supplies, and Beth carried a mix of everything. Everyone had a job in an evacuation, and mine was to make sure everyone got out. After what had happened at the farm, Rick had been very adamant about leaving no man or woman behind, and I had to say that I agreed with him.

I began opening doors, slamming them as hard as I could. I would peer in and look around, making sure it was empty before moving on. I threw open the third door, only to be face to face with Nicole, who had a bag on her back and two guns slung over her shoulder, with another two holstered at her belt. She was also wearing no shirt, just a sports bra. Obviously she had been getting cleaned up.

"Daryl!" She said surprised, stepping back a little. "I'm the last one I think. Carl already passed me and the others were downstairs."

"Uh yeah. Okay good."I awkwardly nodded. I was having a hard time focusing, because, since I was so much taller, I was looking straight at her chest. I wasn't trying to, but it was one of those moments where you just can't control what you are doing.

"Um, you're not a very good door there Dixon." She laughed, drawing my attention back to her face. "Mind letting me through?"

"Oh, yeah." I said numbly, stepping aside. She rushed past me, her hair flying up and brushing my chin. I got my bearings and took a quick look around, just for confirmation's sake. I quickly swept through the last two rooms, finally rushing back to grab my own bag when I knew that everyone was out. I grabbed the my bow hastily and sprinted down the stairs.

"All good Daryl?" Rick asked as I practically tripped over the last step.

"Yeah. I should be it." I answered. The man nodded.

"Alright. We're heading west." He shouted, turning and running to the door. I followed quickly, readying my bow. When the door opened, the afternoon sun was blinding, hanging in front of us like a picture, a very bright picture. Everyone else was loading into the cars. We were down to two cars now, with each one packed full of supplies and people. I was still following on my bike. Something about being cooped up in car with a bunch of other people did not sit well with me.

There were walkers converging from almost all sides, slowly but surely making their way towards us. None of them were close enough to be a threat, but that didn't mean that I wasn't ready for another fight. Rick was the last one to get in the car, his door closing with a defining thud. The engines roared to life as he pulled out of their as quickly as the car would go. T-Dog followed in the other car, and I followed close behind, leaving behind the house, letting the walkers converge upon the frame.

The wind whistled past my ears as I rode behind them. I wasn't sure where we were going, but I trusted Rick enough to follow his lead, and I knew that the walkers couldn't get to me at this speed. Moments like this were the only times I could relax nowadays.

I sat on my bike, wincing in pain. My bullet wound still wasn't completely healed and if I overworked myself it hurt like a bitch, not that I would ever tell anyone that. I could barely see straight right now, with all the images swirling in my head, images of hope and destruction, of light and dark, of pain and peace, of air and fire, images of a person willing to die for those she loved.

Rick slowly put her limp body in the backseat of his SUV, with a little help from Carl. He quickly closed the door and got in himself, starting the car. The walkers were being drawn towards the flames, exactly what Nicole had intended to happen, so our path was almost clear. With the roar of an engine, we peeled out of there.

I can't say that I was sad to leave the farm. Sure, it was safe, but so much shit had gone down there that I was ready to leave. The whole barn fiasco, Sophia's death, getting shot. None of those were particularly fond memories on my behalf.

She had been so hurt. Her face had been so pale, contorted into expressions so raw and real that he had never before seen grace her delicate face. She had so willingly sacrificed herself. How?

That day had been permanently burned in the back of my mind. That ride, which was only about 30 miles, had seemed so long, and so lonely. It had left me with just my thoughts for too long.

As we turned left onto another country road, my mind was once again pulled back into a memory. Albeit, this one was a little older.

"Whiskey." I grumbled as I sat on the barstool, my eyes heavy. The bartender whipped out a bottle and poured me some quickly, sliding it my way. I took the glass with a half-hearted sigh and sipped. The whiskey burned when it passed with cracked, sunburned lips. "Ugh."

"Rough day?"a voice called out behind me. I turned to see a woman, early twenties. Her hair was bleached blonde, badly bleached blonde, and her face was caked with enough makeup to make her skin look like wax. She gave me a sultry little smile and gingerly sat on the stool next to me, crossing her legs to flaunt them.

"Guess you could say that." I chuckled, turning back to my drink. This chick was your typical redneck wanna-be beauty queen. Girls like this hung around in this dive bar every night. Usually, I just ignored them.

"Anything you wanna tell me sugar?" She asked, pursing her lips a little, lifting up whatever little sugary drink she had and taking a tiny sip.

"I don't feel like sharin." Was all I said, taking another sip.

"Oh. You're one of those men." She giggled, or at least I thought it was supposed to be a giggle. To me, it was like nails on a chalkboard.

"What?"

"One of those who are afraid of telling their story." She slurred. "To avoid sharing the real pain."

I rolled my eyes. "Hah. My pain is about as real as those breasts of yours."

I gasped, covering her mouth. "How dare you!" She shouted, standing up, slamming her cup down. "Go rot in hell!" She screamed before she stormed away, slamming the door behind her. I could feel everyone staring at me, but I just chugged the rest of whiskey.

"Another!"

I cringed at that memory. Man, I used to be a dick. I was a redneck, a drunk. That was an everyday occurrence for me, or at least it used to be. Sometimes the girls cried, sometimes they screamed, others just got drink and wound up in bed with me, but it never meant anything.

If I said shit like that to Nicole…..well…..let's just say… I would never be able to have children after that.

I almost hit the back of the truck as it came to a complete stop in front of me, snapping me out of my memories.

"Shit!" I hissed, stopping the bike. I heard someone close a car door, and a few seconds later Rick ran up to the truck. T rolled down the window.

"What is it?" T asked, leaning out so I could now see him. "Pile up?"

"No." Rick shook his head, sticking his arm out, leaning against the truck. "You guys need to get out. We found something."

"Found something?" I asked, stepping off the bike. In a few short strides, I was right by them.

"Yeah. You'll want to see this." Rick nodded, giving me a small smile, paired with some crazy eyes.

I shared a look with T, but we could tell that Rick was going to stand here until we got out. Begrudgingly, T opened the door, knocking me out of the way. Slowly, the others filed out of the truck, and we all followed Rick.

"What is it?"I asked, looking at T. He just shrugged and kept walking.

We came up to the edge of the road, where the others were standing.

"I think I have an idea." Rick smiled, gesturing with his hands.

My breath hitched. I could see where this plan was going. I can't believe we hadn't had this idea before.

A prison.

Are you ready?