Chapter Eight: Just a Minute

Just a Minute

"They're alive," the thinner of the two men said as they stood in the doorway of the pub. Without hesitation, they walked in and sat at a table, making introductions as if being here like this was as normal as happy hour. The thinner man was Dave and the bigger of the two was Tony. Dave rambled on about how they came out of Philly, left DC, and had recently come from Fort Benning, which was a total bust. They had tried the larger cities, but sense that led nowhere, they were sticking to backroads and smaller towns. Made sense, if they were telling the truth. Larger cities made for more undead, just as Willa and I had seen in Miami.

"Nice gun," Rick said to Dave.

"Got it off a cop."

"I'm a cop."

"This one was already dead." He grinned and nodded towards Tony, asking him to pour a round of shot.

Tony poured us all shots of Jameson, cheering to still being alive. I looked to Rick as he took his drink, I did the same.

"You can handle your liquor?" Dave asked me.

"Can't you?" I countered.

He smiled, taking another shot. "Where are you held up?"

"Nowhere really," Rick answered.

"That's your cars out front?"

"Yeah. Why?"

I surveyed the surroundings, looking for signs that they were with others. As Dave commented we looked clean, I noticed so did they. They hadn't been out in the elements very long recently. Dave was acting very nonchalant, something I didn't trust. We outnumber him and his friend and yet he was content to shoot the shit with us. It just didn't add up.

It was then that we were caught in our first lie. Hershel told them we were with a larger group, but out scouting and needed a drink, even though he refused the shot earlier saying that he had given it up. I stepped closer to Hershel, worried either Tony or Dave would retaliate.

Dave called his bluff, but continued to ask about the safety of the area. Rick began to tense, noticing the same thing as I had. We shared a glance, both on the same page. Dave continued to ask about where we sat up, inquiring over and over where we were set up.

I scoffed, turning my head as Tony began to pee in the middle of the bar while Dave asked if we had a farm by singing Old McDonald. These guys were seriously no good and it was starting to look as if we only had one way out of this.

"Charlie, right?" Dave asked as he got to his feet. "You got food and water?"

"We've said enough," Rick said.

"I was asking her," Dave said, his tone changing.

"Like he said, we've said enough," I said.

Dave scoffed. "What? You can't make room for a few more? I'll even bunk with this one," he said as he pointed to me. "Looks like you could use the extra hand," he said, gesturing to my busted lip. "It doesn't sound like it would be a problem."

"I'm sorry, we can't take in anymore people," Hershel said.

"That's something else. I thought we were friends," Dave said. "Come here, darlin. Don't you think we could be friends?"

I stood my ground, crossing my arms.

"Thing is, we don't know anything about you," Rick said, changing the subject.

Dave's happy-go-lucky attitude disappeared as he talked vaguely about how he had to do things he didn't want to do to survive. How he was sure

we all had to do the same. I watched Rick get to his feet once he told Tony to calm down after Tony threatened us over seemingly nothing. Tony was unhinged, and in this world that was more dangerous than ever.

Dave pretended to settle the dispute, promising no one was going to kill anyone. "Let's all just have another drink," he said as he hopped into the bar. "Charlie, my angel, let me show you how to make my favorite drink." He gestured for me to walk around the bar, which I did after catching Rick's gaze. Once I was beside Dave, he put his hand on my hips and leaned in to smell my hair. "You got a man back on this farm?" He paused. "I know he ain't one of them because he wouldn't have let you come behind the bar with me." He reached in his waistband and pulled out a gun. My breathing slowed as he purposefully grazed the weapon against my skin, setting in on the bar

I looked to Rick and he gave me a small nod. Hershel, on the other hand was now on his feet and beads of sweat dripped from his face. He hated the entire situation but seeing me next to this man was enough to send him over the edge. I had come to get him home safely and for all he knew, I was the one who wouldn't make it back. Glenn inched closer to my direction, his eyes wide.

Rick put his hand on his gun as Dave grabbed a bottle from behind the bar.

Dave grinned and pushed me forward so that he could stand behind me, his arms spread wide as he poured a drink. "You know how awful it is out there?" He asked as he nuzzled my neck.

I let out a deep breath, my stomach turning. I couldn't bring myself to make eye contact with Hershel, worried I'd break down if I did. I could feel my hands start to shake as Dave rested his chin on my shoulder, taunting Rick.

"We've been out there," Rick said. "But we have no room on the farm."

Dave went to reach for his gun but I elbowed him in the nose and ducked so that Rick could get a clean shot on him, which he did. As I was kneeling next to Dave's body, I heard more shots. As if by reflex, I checked his pulse as I knelt in a pool of his blood. Upon standing, I saw Rick fire a third shot in Tony's head.

"You alright?" Rick asked me.

I nodded, walking over the bar. The smell of gunpowder filled the air as I made my way to Hershel's side. He was looking over Rick and then at Tony's body.

"That man," he said as he looked behind the bar. "Are you hurt?"

I shook my head. "I'm fine," I said. "We need to go." I looked at Rick, my hands shaking and my heart racing. I could still feel Dave's breath against my neck and it was enough to make me want to puke. I needed to get out of here.

Rick nodded in agreement, but as we walked to the door, we heard voices calling out for Tony and Dave. One by one, the four of us dropped down to hide ourselves from the widows as the three men loitered the front of the bar. Rick, Glenn, and Hershel held their firearms in their hands as I strapped my bow and arrow case to my back and pulled out a knife.

With my back pressed against a wall my eyes moved from Glenn to Hershel. For the first time since the outbreak, Hershel was getting a real sense of what the world had become. His father was a brutal man, so it wasn't the brutality of humanity that Hershel was witnessing for the first time, but rather how there was absolutely no repercussions for one's lack of humanity. I could see small beads of sweat drip down his brow and a part of me wished that he was still unaware of such changes.

Ten minutes had gone by and even though Tony and Dave's friends had stopped shouting for the men, they were still only a few yards away from the bar.

"We can't stay here in longer," Rick whispered. "We'll sneak out the back and make a run out to the car."

Once we were all in agreement, we inched towards the back door when we heard gunfire. Ducking down, the three men rushed towards the front of the door and upon trying to enter, Glenn pushed the door closed, his back against it.

"Hey! Whoever is in there, we don't want no trouble."

I bit my inner cheek, aware of their lie and looked to Rick. He shook his head, but stayed in place and gestured for us to do the same.

"We're looking for our friends. If something happens, you can tell us. This place is crawling with corpses." The voice yelled through the door again.

Rick looked like he was battling his thoughts as his eyes scanned the room. I shook my head at him with pleading eyes when I realized he had come to the conclusion to speak. "They drew on us!" He yelled.

Hershel let out a deep breath, shaking his head. He was obviously hoping that Rick wouldn't have said anything at all, but especially not anything along those lines.

There was a pause from the outside men. "Dave and Tony in there? Are they alive?"

Rick slammed his eyes shut and leaned his head against the wall. "No," he answered.

One man wanted to leave, I could hear the desperation in his pleas, but the other two refused. They wanted vengeance for their friends, their asshole friends.

"Your friends drew on us," Rick repeated, this time louder and more frustrated. He had just killed two men, but he didn't do it out of cold blood. Rick's actions were justified, but I could see that it was still getting to him. The way sweat dripped from his forehead to the way he was holding his pistol, it screamed anxiety. "They gave us no choice! I'm sure we've all lost people and done things we wished we didn't have to." While he was yelling this out to the men behind the door, I knew Rick was saying it for himself, to remind himself that he had no other choice. "You know that. So let's chalk this up for what it was- wrong place, wrong ti-" before Rick could finish his sentence, shots were fired, shattering a couple of windows in the bar. Rick stood quickly and yelled for Hershel, Glenn, and I to get back while he covered us.

I grabbed Hershel's hand and we followed Glenn. I looked over my shoulder to see Rick taking steps backwards as he fired back. I had to squint to focus, between the darkness and my ears ringing, I was having a difficult time navigating. We barely got across the room, with the frequency of the bullets flying past us. There was a slim chance of us running out of the building without getting shot. I found sanctuary behind a turned table while Hershel pressed his back against a column and Glenn ducked behind a small cubby in the wall. When I made eye contact with Rick I could see that he was nothing short of terrified. My breath hitched in my chest and I thought for the first time that we may not make it back to the farm. Before I could dwell on what that would do to Willa or Addy, I let out a shaky breath and was determined to at least go down fighting.

Rick reloaded his pistol and continued the conversation. "This isn't going to end well for anyone. You back off and we can make this work."

Again, silence. Glenn pushed himself to his feet and with a nod from Rick, he made his way to the back of the bar where a door was ajar. Seeing that he was going in alone, I scurried to my feet and followed him out the door, ignoring both Hershel's and Rick's verbal protests. Maggie would be so pissed if I let her boyfriend get shot.

I took a step on the stairs and the creaking noise of the wood made Glenn turn around, his shotgun fully pointed in my direction. "It's me," I felt inclined to say, thought as soon as he saw who it was, he lowered his gun.

"What are you doing?" He whispered.

I shrugged. "I'm making sure you get back to Maggie so that you can finish your talk."

He titled his head slightly to the side, but smiled lightly. "Just be careful."

I nodded.

With Glenn now walking towards the exit, I made my way to the side of the room, keeping my eyes on the door in front of Glenn. The doorknob made a small turn, to which Glenn fired through the glass."

"Glenn!"

"Charlotte!"

"We're fine," Glenn replied once we realized that the area was clear.

I turned to look at Hershel as he walked down the steps. "Rick wants you to try for the car," he said to Glenn.

"Try?"

"You'll try and you'll succeed," Hershel promised.

"Why Glenn? I'm faster," I said.

Hershel shook his head. "Absolutely not, Charlotte."

"Glenn and you both can shoot, I'm not so good at it. Let me go for the car."

Glenn didn't look comfortable with it. "It's not a great plan, Charlie." He looked at Hershel, who was angered in silence, and then back at me. "It makes more sense if I go. You're a doctor, the group needs you."

"This isn't a death march," I said. "No one's dying today. I'm just pointing out the fact that I'm faster and that you can help Hershel cover me." I looked to Hershel and then back to Glenn. "Just remember, Maggie will be hella mad if you let me die."

Glenn groaned, not liking the joke while Hershel's mouth went into a straight line. I pushed open the door and looked to my left and then to my right. With a wooden fence straight ahead, I only had to worry about being shot at in two different directions. I didn't hate those odds. Once my feet hit the ground, I took off into a sprint, my eyes already locking on the car. When a gunshot went off behind me, I ducked behind the nearest structure, which happened to be a dumpster.

I heard either Glenn or Hershel fire back, followed by the sound of a man screaming.

"Charlie!" Glenn yelled.

I had my knees pulled into my chest. "I'm okay," I managed to yell back, even though my hands were shaking so hard, I had dropped my knife in the midst of the garbage I was lying in. Being shot at was probably my least favorite thing.

"Are you shot?" Hershel yelled.

I looked down at my hands, my legs, my arms and felt my abdomen to make sure.

"Charlotte!" I heard him yell.

"No!" I finally shouted back, but when I looked up, I saw Hershel and Rick standing in front of me. They both knelt down behind the dumpster so that no one would be able to see them. "Sorry," I breathed.

Rick put his hand on my shoulder. "It's okay," he assured. I looked over to see that there were two men in a white truck getting ready to go, leaving their dead buddy behind. We waited until they had pulled off before emerging from behind the fence.

Glenn joined us and patted me on the back. "You did good, Charlie."

I hadn't done anything at all, other than almost give my uncle a heart attack, but I smiled politely at Glenn.

"Glenn and I are going to check the perimeter around the car," Rick said. "Hershel cover us. Charlie, keep an eye out behind."

I nodded and stepped back after wiping liquid garbage from my knife. I took a few steps back so that I could watch a handful of walkers gorging on the man that had shot at me. He was long gone, barely anything left, but my stomach still turned at the sight. I turned to look at Hershel when I heard him fire his gun at walkers, followed by both Glenn and Rick firing at the undead that approached.

I went to pull my bow off my back when I felt a body tackle me to the ground. It happened so quickly that I couldn't scream before the air was knocked out of my chest when my back hit the ground. I looked up at the man who was pressing his weight against me as he covered my mouth with one hand. His other forearm was pressed against my neck. I used both my hands to grab and scratch at the arm that he was using to close up my airway. Bucking under my attacker, I began to see black creep in the corner of my eyes. His face was neutral as he pressed harder onto my throat, his deep brown eyes staring right into my own golden brown eyes. I could see my reflection in his pupils and I couldn't help but to think how much I looked like my mother. When I was young, I always got compliments about my eyes- the unique golden brown color that my mother, my sister, my niece, and I all shared. The thought of Willa and Addy made me want to fight harder than I was already somehow.

"Charlotte!" It was Hershel's voice, but he was too far away. He wouldn't risk shooting the man in fear of getting me in the process.

I ignored my instinct to attempt to pull my attacker's arm away from me and reached down to pull my knife out its sheath. The man didn't see it coming as I strategically stabbed him in the jugular. He pulled his hands off of me instantly, trying to put pressure on the wound. It wouldn't do any good, I had severed the vein. He fell backwards, but not before he covered me in blood that was literally spewing out of his neck. I pushed myself up and reached over to pull the knife out, causing even more blood to spout from his wound. He opened his mouth, but was unable to form words, the need for air passing through him.

Hershel was by my side and pulled me to my feet. "Are you alright?"

I couldn't tear my eyes away from the man I had just condemned to death. He was now on his side in the fetal position, his body twitching as his blood pressure dropped. He had lost too much blood at this point, and he would pass out soon.

I hadn't realized Rick and Glenn had doubled back when they heard the commotion. Rick looked at the man a few feet away from Hershel and I and then looked at me. I tried to wipe the blood from my face, but it was useless considering nearly every visible part of me was covered with it.

"You did what you had to do," Rick said with a solitary node. "There's too many walkers now," he said quickly. "We're going to have to find somewhere to hide out."

"For how long?" Hershel asked.

Rick looked apologetic. He knew Hershel was worried about Beth and I'm assuming he was considered that Lori and Carl would be thinking the worst as well. "Morning."

"Guys," Glenn said as he nodded to the sound of a motorcycle coming our way. I knew instantly it was Daryl by the wing black motorcycle vest he wore.

"We're drawing more walkers," Rick said.

"I'll get Daryl," Glenn volunteered. "Meet you back in the bar?"

Rick nodded and led the way for Hershel and I to follow. We stayed in the back part of the pub since most of the windows had been shot out in the

front part of the business. "There's an apartment above," Hershel said, gesturing to a set of stairs. "The owner, Matt Dyver, lived up there."

Rick pulled out his gun and checked the ammo. "I'll go check it out."

"Go with him," I told Hershel. "I'll wait for Glenn and Daryl."

Hershel didn't move, not wanting to leave me, unsure of the state I was in. To be honest, I wasn't completely sure of the state I was in either. I had taken a life before, a patient's by not catching something fast enough. It wasn't like this. What the man had died of, I had inflicted upon him.

"Go," I insisted.

Hershel's mouth formed in a straight line but followed Rick up the stairs. I leaned against the wall next to the door and stared down at my hands. I rubbed my palms together, thinking that someone it would help with making the blood dissipate. It didn't.

The door swung open, causing me to gasp slightly as I looked up. Daryl walked in, his chest wide and shoulders heaving. The moment we made eye contact, I wanted to break down. I finally felt safe enough to let out the emotions that were spiraling inside of me, but I didn't; I kept myself as calm and collected as I could.

"God damn," he said as he looked over me.

"I'll...uh… get something to clean off your face," Glenn said awkwardly as he noticed the tension between Daryl and I.

"It's okay," I said. "It's not my blood."

Daryl's chest stuck out further as he looked around the room, as if we would have left the attacker unattended.

"He's dead," I said. "I… uh… he's just dead." I felt tears start to swim in my eyes as I swallowed hard. My throat burned from the simple task and

I remembered why I had killed him. It was him or me. I moved my right hand to my throat and took in a deep breath gingerly. "I killed him," I said, my voice faint. Talking at any sort of volume was too painful.

Daryl removed the distance between us with two long strides. "Hey," he said. "Ya did what ya had to do." Those were the same words Rick had used. There had to be something to what they were saying.

I nodded, not making eye contact. I knew if I let myself, I would fall to pieces and I couldn't afford to do that. I had taken a man's life and I needed to feel this way, if only to remind myself of the finality of it.

"We're clear up here," Rick said.

Glenn had made his way back to Daryl and I with a bar rag and a well bottle of vodka. He shrugged and handed them to me. "This'll work."

I nodded a thank you to Glenn before turning on my heel and making my way up the stairs. The apartment was a small one bedroom, one bath, and maybe five hundred feet. I found myself in the kitchen, which was galley style, and saturated the rag with vodka over the sink. My hands still shook from the… event and I did my best not to close my eyes for more than necessary, for every blink I took, I saw his eyes staring back at me as

I shoved my knife into his neck.

"Charlotte," Hershel said from the end of the kitchen.

I was too busy pretending to look busy to turn my head into his direction. Scrubbing my hands fiercely with the rag, I gave out a faint, "hm?"

"Are you sure you're not injured?"

I nodded. I knew he was struggling to find words to comfort me, but the fact was that I didn't want to be comforted. I wanted to feel this way, I needed to. I had taken a life and that wasn't something anyone should take lightly.

"I'll take first watch," I heard Daryl say in the living room.

"Get some rest, I'll be right there," I said to Hershel. When he didn't move, I finally looked at him. "I need just a minute."

Hershel retreated to the living room, finding his spot on the couch. I continued to scrub the dried blood from my arms and using the microwave as a mirror, I began to work on my face and neck.

Daryl cleared his throat, leaving a folded t-shirt on the kitchen counter. I nodded a thank you at him before focusing on the removal of blood. I had forgotten how difficult it was to remove, but at the hospital, I was never this contaminated. Tossing the blood and vodka soaked rag in the sink, I quickly changed my shirt and threw the bloody shirt next to the rag. For a moment, I could smell Daryl on the shirt I was wearing- it had a faint smell of cigarette smoke, motorcycle grease, and rain. As soon as the soothing feeling flooded my senses, I closed my eyes and saw the man I killed falling backwards.

I let out a deep breath and wrapped my arms around my side as I joined the group in the living room. Glenn had made a small pallet on the floor next to the recliner Rick was sitting in. I found my way to the window seat, next to the window that Daryl had pulled a chair up to to take watch. I felt everyone's eyes on me as I sat in the window seat and pulled my knees to my chest. Looking out the window, I tried not to let myself fall apart.

Someone turned off the lantern and Rick began to talk. He spoke about how we all did what was needed and that this was the world we lived in now. He continued his speech for another ten or so minutes, but I had stopped listening and focused all my attention on a walker that was trying her best to get over the fence. It was soothing, almost, to watch her try and try but with her limited capabilities, she was unable to climb.

"Cherry," Daryl said as he stood behind me. The full moon illuminated the room enough to where I was able to see him and the others fairly well without the light of the lantern.

I looked over my shoulder at him and he nodded in Rick's direction. Turning around to face everyone, I apologized for spacing out.

"I was just saying we should leave at first light."

"Oh. Yeah, sure," I replied. Hershel's face was stoic, doing his best to not show his concern for me. Instead of keeping my gaze on Hershel, I turned back to look at the walker who was still trying to maneuver herself over the fence.

A half of an hour must have gone by and I heard small snores and deep breathing coming behind me. I hadn't even thought about sleeping, the idea of closing my eyes not at all pleasing at that moment.

"Ya ain't tired?" Daryl asked from his chair. He was leaning forward, his elbows on his knees.

I shook my head. "You can sleep. I'll keep watch."

He leaned back, but kept his attention on me. "Nah."

I wasn't going to attempt to argue with Daryl; telling him to do something he didn't want to do was a waste of time. I watched as he pulled out a torn shirt sleeve from his back pocket and retrieved a bottle of water from his pack. He soaked the rag and handed it to me, telling me that I missed a spot along my neck.

I took the rag, but didn't have the heart to tell him that I purposely avoided the bruised area due to extreme sensitivity. Gingerly, I wiped upwards along the fragile skin, turning away so he wouldn't see the discomfort in my facial expression.

A few minutes of this had gone by when I heard Daryl stand up from his chair. He held his hand out for me to give him the rag, which I did. He re-soaked the scratchy cotton material with water and leaned towards me. He made no effort in giving me the rag, but rather took it to my neck himself and began to, surprisingly, gently rub the dried blood from my neck.

I let out a small gasp as I turned my head to the side so that he had a better angle. "What happened?" He asked, quietly.

I bit my inner cheek, not knowing if I could recant the incident. "He jumped me from behind. I didn't even hear him."

He nodded.

"He was bigger than me… too big for me to push him off." I paused as I looked at Daryl. "I didn't see another option."

"That's 'cause ya ain't had one." His reply was quick and his voice didn't falter. I could tell by the look in his eyes that he believed that. I did too, I knew I didn't have another way out of that attack, I just wanted it to have ended differently.

"Did Hershel look at this?" Daryl asked as he dropped his hands down to his side, his eyes fixated on what I'm assuming was a gnarly bruise along my neck.

I shook my head.

"Cherry…"

I lifted four fingers to the bruised area and gently pressed down. "No sign of hyoid fracture or tracheal cartilage fracture." I moved my tongue and experienced no pain. "Epiglottis appears to be negative." I softly cleared my throat. "My voice sounds the same, so I can rule out dysphagia and odynophagi." I paused. "I did have a change in vision during the attack, but vision is fully restored so that along with lack of facial droop, and ptosis, I can also cross out injury to a carotid artery."

Daryl crossed his arms, but sat down. He scanned my face, as if he was trying to figure something out about me. "They taught ya all that in medical school?"

And then some. I nodded. "I volunteered at a women's shelter before going to medical school though." I gestured to my neck. "We saw a lot of domestic violence cases." I looked back out the window, briefly remembering the handful of women who were our "regulars" and how some were finally able to leave and the others whom I never saw again. I sat up straight, my eyes catching what was left of the man I had killed, wondering as an undead.

Daryl rushed to the widow, scanning the outside. "What is it?"

"That's him. The walker in the green jacket." I looked up at Daryl. "That's the man I killed."

His eyes drifted from from the walker to me. "Cherry…"

"I'll be right back," I whispered.

"The hell ya will. Ya ain't goin' nowhere."

I pushed myself off the window seat and made my way to the kitchen, carefully stepping over Glenn. "I just need to know." My voice was barely an audible whisper as I tried my hardest to be as ninja-like as Daryl.

"Know what?" Daryl asked as he stood toe to toe with me.

I shrugged. "His name, if he had a family, something. To put an arrow through his brain."

"Why? He tried to kill ya. Ya don't owe him shit."

I shook my head, digging through my own thought process to find a legitimate reason. I came up empty handed. "I can't explain it." I paused. "I'll be back, if Hershel wakes up-"

"Nah, ya ain't goin' down there alone." I stood in the kitchen and watched as Daryl stood over Glenn and gently knocked Glenn's hand with his boot. Glenn sat up almost instantly and Daryl bent down and whispered something to him. Glenn nodded and pushed himself up off the floor. With my bow and arrow pack in my arms, I quietly opened the door and waited outside for Glenn. With my back pressed against the wall, I let out a deep breath. Was I making a mistake by trying to learn more about the man's life I had just taken? Was Daryl right? Did it really matter?

To my surprise, Daryl was the one who walked through the doorway. "A'right, gotta' make this fast." He didn't wait for me to reply before he started to make his way down to the pub room. I followed him, asking what he told Glenn.

Daryl looked over his shoulder at me as he stood at the exit. "Told 'em we wanted to come down here."

I rolled my eyes. "He thinks we're… you know…" Daryl narrowed his eyes at me, not understanding where I was getting at. "Never mind," I said quickly as I made a mental note to tell Glenn what was really going on. I didn't need this getting back to Maggie and therefore back to my sister.

Daryl cracked open the door and eased himself out, his crossbow in hand. I shrugged my arrow pack and bow over my back, relying on the knife in my hand for protection. Daryl nodded his head to to left, signaling that the coast was clear. Within minutes of us walking around the area, I spotted him. Daryl stood to the side and watched as I walked up to him alone. The moment he saw me, he snapped and snarled, hands reaching for my flesh. I pushed him back quickly and jabbed my knife through his left eye socket. I heard Daryl's bow take out two other walkers as I focused on this one.

I let out a shaky breath as I knelt down beside the man. Turning him to his side, I scanned my immediate area before continuing. Inside his right back pocket he had a swiss army knife, stray bullets, and a half eaten granola bar. His left pocket, however, had what I thought I was hoping for. It was a crumbled picture of him, and who I'm assuming was his wife and two daughters. The girls were young, barely grade school age and his wife had the biggest smile I had ever seen. I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying my best to keep tears at bay. With the picture still in my hands, I pushed myself off the ground. Looking down at the man that I had now killed twice, I felt overwhelmed.

"Hey," Daryl's voice called from behind me. "Ya got what ya were lookin' fur?"

I turned to face him and nodded, shoving the picture in my back pocket. He eyed me carefully, his mouth in a straight line, but said nothing. I couldn't tell what he was thinking, and to be honest, I wasn't sure where my thoughts were either. I put one foot in front of the other until I was standing in the pub room. Daryl closed the door behind and checked to make sure we weren't followed. He brushed past me, going up the stairs, but I swayed to the side and all but collapsed, my legs suddenly too weak to support my heavy heart. I slid down the wall and leaned my head against the wooden frame, taking in a deep breath.

"Charlie," Daryl said, his voice harsh. "Ya bit?" When I didn't answer because I was focusing too closely on my breathing, he dashed down the steps three at a time until he was in front of me. Looking me over, he grabbed my arms and pulled the sleeves up and ran his hand down my legs, checking for a tear in the denim.

I pulled my hands into my chest and shook my head. "I'm not bit." My eyes locked with his. "I need just a minute." He propped down across from me, in the stairway, but didn't say a word. I bit my cheek and put my head between my legs, taking in slow, deep breath. "I can't do this," I finally said sitting up straight.

"Do what?" He asked.

"Do what?" I repeated. "Any of this." I paused. "I killed a man today." My face cracked, and this time it wasn't from my injury, but rather from the amount of emotion.

"Ya can't let that eat ya up."

I could feel tears blooming and what I spoke, my voice still uneven. "I don't know how to move on from this." I paused. "I don't know if I'll be able to look at my sister and niece again."

"Why?" Daryl leaned forward, his forehead furrowed.

I wiped the tears that were falling freely and turned my face to the side, unable to meet his intense gaze. "I'm ashamed."

"Don't be," he said sternly. "Ya did what ya did to save yur life, yeah, but ya also did it for them." He paused. "How do ya think they'd feel if ya didn't come back? If that lil' girl never saw ya again?"

I turned to look at him, trying to muffle my sobs. The image of Hershel telling Willa I was killed, strangled to death by a random man, made more tears form behind my eyes. She wouldn't be able to bounce back, losing me so closely to Danny. No one could handle something like that. I let out a deep breath and swallowed hard. I don't know if I would ever get over killing that man, and it was okay if I didn't. One should take things such as taking a life seriously. I didn't know how long I would see his face when I closed my eyes or if I'd ever be the same, but it was either him or me. I picked me, not just for myself, but for my family. And that was something I knew I would never apologize for.

"Sorry you had to deal with me like this."

Daryl grinned.

"Why did you come? I mean, we're glad you did, but what's going on at the farm?"

Daryl pushed himself up. "Lori went lookin' for y'all and Shane tracked her down. She came back, hysterical." He shrugged. "Thought I'd come look for ya, see if ya needed me." He held his hand out for me to take.

I put my palm into his and he pulled me to my feet with ease. I looked up at him, finding his blue eyes easily in the dim lighting of the night sky that shone through the widows. "Thanks for coming, tiger."

"Ya made it fine without me," he said as he looked to the side, avoiding eye contact.

I shrugged. "I don't know about that. Those other two walkers could have snuck up on me out there."

His relaxed demeanor lessened and his frame became stiff as his eyes found mine. "Ya woulda gone out there alone?"

I could tell the idea of my doing that left him uneasy. Despite his annoyance of the matter, it was touching. I took two steps towards the door and turned to hold my hand out to Daryl. "I guess we'll never know."

He grunted, not liking my reply, and looked down at my hand. Letting out a deep breath, he put his hand in mine. Our fingers entwined and I felt a little better. I wasn't in this alone. Whatever Daryl and I were, or if we'd become anything more than friends, I was lucky to have Daryl Dixon in my life. He made sense of humanity that I hadn't been subjected to and he understood the ugly parts that I had endured. We stood outside the door, my much smaller hand in his.

The door swung open, a frantic looking Glenn standing in the doorway. He looked us over and shook his eyes. "Jeeze, guys. Haven't you ever heard of a quickie?"

I cleared my throat, trying not to laugh as Daryl turned a light shade of red. He pulled his hand from mine and shoved both of his hands in his front pockets, murmuring something I couldn't make out. "No, maybe I should ask Maggie. I hear you're the expert." He titled his head to his side and opened his mouth slightly. "I'm kidding," I said as I walked past him.

Glenn turned to look at me after Daryl walked in and he closed the door. "Is that what she said?"