So I managed to finish this one! It'll probably be a day or two before I can update again. Hopefully not much longer than that though! But I think you all might enjoy this chapter :).
Nat: Ahh! I almost envy you for that! I started watching the show early this year myself and it really sucks once you watch every episode and then have no more left! Glad you like the story though! And yes, at some point we are coming upon that moment, but I've been wanting to get out of season 2 and into that time frame between season 2 and 3 that's skipped on the show. I don't know where you're at in the show, but I feel like that's when Daryl isn't as rough around the edges.
Redangel2463: I managed to get the next chapter finished tonight, hope you enjoy!
Leaves littered the forest floor, which only made moving stealthy very difficult. Every footfall elicited a crunch, causing me to pause and hold my breath, hoping Shane hadn't spotted me yet. The second figure with him had turned out to be Randall, and I wasn't entirely too sure yet what Shane was up to, but with the gun in his waistband I had a pretty good idea.
Shane was pushing a blindfolded Randall along every few steps. The young boy couldn't see where he was going and he kept trying to speak, but the duct tape over his mouth only emitted muffled sounds. With one rough push, Shane had caused Randall to trip and stumble, toppling onto his side on the ground. I stopped and tried to hide behind the trunk of a tree as Shane knelt down beside him. I couldn't see what was going on, afraid if I peeked my head around the tree in the dying sunlight Shane would see me. And I had no idea how he'd react if he did.
"I get it, I'm probably the last face you want to see, huh?" Shane whispered to Randall.
I was guessing he'd taken the blindfold off of him now. I could hear Randall's muffled sounds grow louder and Shane only shushed him repeatedly, trying to quiet him down. I heard the deep timber of Shane's voice again, but this time he must have been speaking even softer, because I couldn't make out the actual words. There was a loud gasp and then Shane was speaking again, his voice a bit louder.
"You're group, you know where they're at?" Shane asked.
"No, I don't," came Randall's scared voice.
Shane must have taken the blindfold and the tape off of his mouth now. But why?
"I am the only shot of you gettin' out of these woods alive, you hear me?" Shane said in a suddenly ferocious tone. "So you start talkin' boy. Where are they at?"
Was Shane trying to leave our group to join the one Randall had been with? I know Shane had gone off the deep end a little bit with everything going on lately, but I found it hard to believe that he wanted to join a group that was that bad.
"We had a camp set up off the highway," Randall's terrified voice finally said. "About five miles from here. Who knows if they're still there."
A pause, probably in which something was said too quietly for me to hear by Shane. And then Randall asked, "Why?"
"Because man, I'm just done with this group," Shane explained. "They're doomed and I want no part in it. That's all."
I frowned at his words. I wasn't sure whether I believed that or not, but if it was true, I couldn't just let Shane and this boy lead that group back here. But would Shane really do that? To Lori and Carl at least? And that unborn child that might be his?
I risked a peek around the trunk of the tree I was hiding up against. Shane was staring straight faced at Randall. He practically towered over him. No wonder he sounded terrified when he spoke.
No, there had to be another reason for Shane to be asking about the group. He didn't look desperate enough for me to believe his words. He had been lying to find out where the group was, that was the only thing that seemed to make sense.
"So…" Randall said slowly, "You're not going to kill me?"
Shane grabbed him roughly by the arm and pulled him to his feet. I jumped behind the tree again, holding my breath hoping he hadn't seen me.
"If I was you'd already be dead," Shane told him.
Not if you were trying to get him to trust you with information about his group. You'd kill him after.
I heard loud footfalls trudging through dead, dry leaves. I waited a few moments, letting them get ahead of me before I came out from behind the tree. Shane was still leading Randall forward with pushes to the shoulder.
"You don't got to be so rough," Randall finally told him. "We're on the same side now!"
I took a few steps and then paused at Randall's next words.
"You're gonna like it with us. It's a tough bunch of guys, but, you'll fit in good!"
He sounded happy about going back, and about the fact that they're 'a tough bunch of guys.' I knew in that moment that whatever it was that this group did that had Daryl so upset—Randall was a part of it. No matter how innocent he claimed he was.
My stomach churned. Maybe the right choice had been to kill him.
I noticed Shane starting to look around as if he suspected someone was following him. I darted behind a tree trunk, squeezing my eyes shut and praying he hadn't spotted me.
"Less talking more walking," Shane said, his voice sounding distracted.
Randall said something I didn't catch; they must have gotten a little farther ahead as I waited behind the tree. Suddenly I heard Randall let out a shout. My breath caught in my throat as I waited for him or Shane to say something. Only silence filled the air.
I fought the urge to look and see what was going on. Had Shane seen me and told Randall to keep quiet? Or had something much worse happened when Randall had shouted out in surprise?
Footsteps as if someone was sprinting filled the air. There was a loud thud immediately after and the sound of Shane grunting in pain. Another thump as if someone had dropped to the leaf-strewn ground.
It was a few seconds before Shane's voice rang out through the silence.
"I know you're there. You can come out already."
I froze, my body rigid against the tree. How long did he know I'd been here? This whole time? And…why was Randall suddenly so quiet?
"I know you're behind that tree," Shane's voice called out again.
Slowly, I emerged from my hiding spot. About sixty feet ahead was Shane lying on the ground beside a tree. His nose was gushing blood and looked broken. Farther beside him was Randall, his body still and his head twisted in an unnatural angle.
He killed Randall. He'd snapped his neck with his bare hands. And then he must have run into a tree to make an injury as if he'd been attacked.
Shane got up from off the ground and came striding towards me. My hand flew to the knife at my side.
"You killed him," I said.
Shane raised his hands slowly. "Hey now, he came at me. It was just self-defense."
I shook my head rapidly. "No, you did that to yourself."
A strange smile spread across Shane's face and I was suddenly afraid of him. "Come on now, why would I do that to myself?"
He took a few steps towards me and I pulled the knife out, brandishing it towards him. Truth was, I wasn't sure I had it in me to attack him if he attacked me. I hoped he couldn't tell how bad my hand was shaking.
"Put the knife away," Shane ordered me. "I only killed Randall in self-defense. He came at me."
"That's a lie," I said. "Did you kill Otis too? I know Dale thought you did. You left him behind to die."
Shane took a few more steps towards me, that strange smile still on his lips.
"I don't think anyone is going to believe you," he said. "You know why?"
I didn't answer, just took a few steps back. He was maybe ten feet from me now. Way too close for comfort. My heart was rapidly beating in my chest. Rick had said earlier he didn't think Shane would hurt me. Right now I knew he was going to.
"Because," he continued when I hadn't said anything. He closed the few feet of space between us, until my back was pushed up against a tree and I had nowhere to go. "You never remember anything. You're always hitting your head."
I didn't have time to react. In seconds something hard slammed across my temple. A sharp pain shot through my skull. It hurt so bad I fell to my knees and slumped onto the ground. I blinked a few times, but everything was white. I couldn't see where Shane had went. I didn't know what was going on.
My eyes rolled back and I fell into darkness.
A low groan escaped my lips. My eyes slowly fluttered open. Dark. It was dark out now. How long had I been out?
I tried to sit up, but my head hurt the worst it had in weeks. Shane had hit me, I remembered that now. He'd killed Randall and—
"Two sets of tracks over here. Shane must've followed him a lot longer than he said."
I tried to roll my head in the direction the voice had come from. The movement hurt and was dizzying. I felt nauseous as I tried to place the voice.
"Wait…there's a third set of prints."
Daryl?
"Maybe it's Isabell's? Carol said she ran off after Shane and no one's seen her since," a second voice said.
Glenn, that's definitely Glenn.
I could hear the leaves rustling as the two men trudged through them. I tried again to sit up, but my head felt like it was swimming. Shane must've hit me harder than I'd realized.
A light caught my eye not too far away. It looked like a flashlight.
"There's blood on this tree," Daryl's voice said.
I opened my mouth to call out to the pair, but the moment I did, the nausea took over. I rolled onto my side and threw up.
"What was that?" Glenn's panicked voice rang out through the darkness.
I saw the light swing in my direction.
"There's someone over there!" Glenn exclaimed.
Hurried footsteps were racing in my direction and then the light was on me and I was squinting at the brightness of it.
"Holy shit, what happened?" Glenn said as he came to my side. He saw the puke and barely avoided stepping in it before he was at my side.
"Isabell?" Daryl's voice was full of concern as he took in my appearance.
"Did Randall do this to you?" Glenn asked me.
"Shane," I said.
Glenn's jaw dropped in disbelief.
"Oh man, that's not good. He's out with Rick right now," Glenn said as he turned to Daryl.
"I don't think Rick bought his story," Daryl's gruff voice said. "We need to get her back to the farmhouse. She's bleeding bad."
Daryl threw his crossbow over his shoulder and passed the flashlight to Glenn. He knelt down at my side, trying to sling my arm around his neck so he could pick me up.
My eyes widened at something making its way up behind the pair. "Behind you!"
Glenn spun in shock, dropping the flashlight on the ground. It illuminated a very undead Randall.
Daryl was quick to react, pulling the crossbow off of his shoulder and aiming it just as Randall neared Glenn. He shot the arrow and it went straight through Randall's head. He dropped to the ground with a thump among some leaves. Daryl stood and made his way to the body, pulling the arrow from his head and putting it back into the crossbow.
"Don't see any bite marks," Daryl said as he examined the body. "Looks like he died of a broken neck."
"Then how'd he become one of those things?" Glenn asked, horrified as he stared at the body.
Daryl turned to me. "You followed them out here, right?"
"Yes," I answered.
"You didn't run into any walkers?"
"No, none. Unless one came along while I was unconscious," I said, and then a terrible thought crossed my mind.
I tried to sit up, ignoring the pain at the quick movement as I began checking myself for any bite marks.
Daryl came back towards me, placing a hand gently on my shoulder to stop me.
"Don't think a walker'd just take one bite and leave," he said to me.
"Yeah," I said a little breathlessly. "Yeah I guess that's true."
"We need to get you back to the farm," Daryl told me.
He slid my arms around his neck and gently placed a hand on my back before slipping the other underneath my legs. He lifted me up into his arms easily, but I groaned at the sudden movement. Daryl glanced down at me, his brows knitted together in concern as he eyed the side of my head.
"Is it that bad?" I asked him.
His eyes met mine and his lips were set in a straight line. His expression was hard to read.
"Hershel will fix you up at the farm. You might need stitches, can't tell. There's too much blood for me to see," he answered me in a deep voice.
Glenn led the way back to the farm, the flashlight beam guiding us. We were moving silently through the forest, and even though the ground wasn't flat, Daryl's steps somehow seemed smooth. I closed my eyes, letting the soft rocking motion of his steps relax me. My head slowly fell limply into the crook of his neck, just under his chin. The smell of his leather vest filled my nose, along with the scent of something else that just seemed uniquely Daryl.
"Hey," his gravelly voice said. I could feel his voice rumbling through his chest as he spoke. "Don't fall asleep. Stay awake."
"But my head hurts," I mumbled into his chest. "And I'm tired."
"You probably have a concussion," Daryl told me. "Just keep your eyes open. We're almost there."
I opened my eyes and turned my head to look. Sure enough the white farmhouse was just off into the distance. We had apparently gotten out of the forest already. I dropped my head back into the crook of his neck, closing my eyes and breathing in his scent.
"I'm going to run ahead and get Hershel, are you good without the flashlight?" Glenn asked.
"Yeah, I'm good," Daryl called out to him.
I thought I heard the sounds of Glenn's hurried footsteps as he sprinted off ahead.
"You smell good," I mumbled into Daryl's chest again.
Daryl let out a snort. "You must be concussed."
"I'm fine," I said quietly.
"We're almost back now," Daryl told me. "Just stay awake."
"I am awake."
"Barely," Daryl said.
I lifted my head up from off his chest and looked up at him. We were just in front of the porch now, and the light from the house was pouring over his face. He stopped walking and glanced down at me, his brows knitted together again in confusion.
"What?" he asked, his voice husky.
I raised my hand up slowly, hesitantly, towards his face. I paused when it was just inches from him and his expression changed to something akin to a wince for a fraction of a second. The expression came and went so quickly I wasn't sure if I'd even seen it. Biting my lip, I placed my hand gently onto the side of his face. I could feel the rough stubble underneath my hand. My fingers ran along his cheekbone deliberately, tracing down the line until they neared his mouth. I stopped, suddenly aware of what my hand was doing. Slowly I slid it down his cheek and made its way back around his neck. My eyes moved from the side of his face and up to meet his. The look I'd seen on his face two other times before was there again, suddenly intense. I could feel goosebumps rising on my arms as his warm breath fell across my face.
"I—"
The screen door swung open with a bang, causing Daryl's head to snap up. The words I was about to say died in my throat.
"Bring her inside," Hershel called out. "Let me take a look at her."
Daryl carried me up the porch steps without a word and brought me into the house. Everyone was gathered in the living room and I saw the large couch pulled out from the wall and set into the center of the room under the ceiling light. Daryl laid me down gingerly onto the couch, his hands slowly sliding out from under me. I wanted to pull him back to me, but Hershel was suddenly in front of me, his hand turning my head gently to the side so he could examine the injury.
"She's going to need a couple stitches once I clean this," Hershel said to someone.
"I'm fine," I said.
"There's a large gash in the side of your head, you're not fine," Sarah said, suddenly appearing beside Hershel. She looked worried as she examined my face.
A cloth was pressed to my head and it stung, shooting pain across my head as if I'd been hit again.
"This won't be good," Hershel said grimly.
"What? Why?" Daryl's concerned voice asked as he suddenly towered behind Hershel.
"If the alcohol hurts her this much, stitching her while she's awake will be worse," Hershel explained.
I saw the look of horror on Sarah's face before I understood the situation. My eyes shot wide open.
"No! No no no no!"
"Someone's going to have to hold her down," Hershel said, his eyes not meeting mine. "Or I might hurt her if she's moving around."
Daryl's rough hands were suddenly pressing down on my shoulders. I shot him a pleading look but he glanced away instead.
Something pierced my skin, right through the temple. I shrieked as sweat broke out across my whole body.
"You'll have to hold her tighter than that," Hershel's calm voice said.
Daryl pushed down harder on my arms and I felt another weight suddenly holding my legs down.
The needle pierced through my skin again, and my eyes slammed shut as tears poured down my cheeks. I couldn't hold down the screams with each time the needle struck through flesh.
I was faintly aware of something beside my face. Hair tickled my cheek and I was suddenly aware that Daryl had leaned down beside my ear and was trying to calm me down with soothing words.
"Just focus on me," I heard him say, only loud enough for me to have heard. "Don't think about anything else."
Every time the needle pierced my skin, I focused on Daryl instead. The sound of his voice in my ear. The warmth of his breath on my neck. The weight of his hands on my body.