Chapter 33

DPOV

The night hadn' gone tha way it was supposed to. Bella never showed up for the dinner that night 'n the guilt was gettin' ta me. Tha girls kept ask'n were she was 'n all I could do was shrug my shoulders while startin' at my plate 'till I finally jus' got up 'n went ta my cell. I'd never been good with females cryin' 'n I'm pretty sure that's what she ran off ta do after…; I didn' know what ta do.. She didn' really want me though, jus' caught up in tha moment after the hunt. That's it. Girl knows the bottom of tha barrel when she sees it. A girl like that would'a never look'd my way, would'a never even been in tha kinda places Merle dragg'd me along to… Not that I was really ever interested 'fore, most women that tried anythin' with me were so drunk they could'n stand or a junkie think'n I'd buy 'em their next fix; tried anythin' being key phrase, I didn't want nothin' ta do with those women, not like Merle did; not that I didn' think women were pretty 'n what not, but they was driftin' from one guy ta the next every night we was there, 'n I jus' didn' wanna be that guy.

Sleep did'n come for a long time, 'n when it did, it wasn't restful. Dreams of what happen'd earlier came, 'n my mind filled in a lot from there. I'd never had a problem like this; dream'n 'bout someone, 'n wakin' up hopin' to see her there. I'd found out really quick after Merle came back from the Army, that I did'n like ta be touched by most people. He'd come back with a bunch of money 'n thought it was time ta show me what life was like, or so he said. We'd gone to a bar, though I was only 16, Merle knew tha right kinda people 'n they let me in, even served me drinks. Merle jus' kept buy'n em 'n I jus' kept drink'n 'em, think'n it was nice ta be 'round someone 'sides my pa for a change.

Weren't till after everythin' was done with, did I figure out what he was really up to. Merle'd been all over town when he got back, talkin' ta everyone, ask'n what I'd been up ta, 'n who I was friends with. The list wasn't long, prolly two people I'd really speak with on a weekly bases, mostly avoidin' people 'round town; weren't hard ta do, they avoided me too. That night in tha bar, there'd been a girl. Merle jus' kept talkin', like he always does, ask'n me if I liked her 'n all that. I should'a pick'd up on it then, but I jus' kept drink'n tha beers he kept puttin' in front of me. The girl had come over ta our table n was talk'n bout somethin', but I could'n pay attention ta that… the last beer I had was makin' me feel tingly and shit…'Fore I knew it, we was at someone's house and 'n this girl had 'er mouth on my dick. Everything was really fuzzy 'n my arms weren't work'n like they should…

Then she was up 'n on me goin' ta town, bouncing on my dick. I was 16, 'n a guy, it should'a felt good, but I didn't even know the broad. Weren't till she tried ta take my shirt off did tha feelin' n my arms come back. I shov'd her, a lot harder then I wanted, but I was still fuck'n wasted 'n comin' off what ever'd been slipped in my last beer. She hit tha floor, then got up 'n shoved me back, screamin' "Merle didn't pay me enough for this shit, you fucking freak; can't even get it all the way up for a hot piece of ass" while stumblin' 'round try'n ta put on her clothes. "If Merle asked, we finished this; otherwise I'll tell everyone what a fucking limp dick loser you are. Got it?" She demand'd. I must'a answered her 'n someway, cuz she grabbed her shit 'n left. Lookin' down at my dick, I ripped the condom off as fast as my fuck'd up limbs would let me.

I struggled ta pull up my pants n button myself up, tryin' ta figure out what the fuck jus' happen'd. A lil whiles later, Merle came bangin' on the door 'n barged in laugh'n; ask'n me what I thought 'bout my first piece of ass. Only thing I could ask was "What the fuck did ya give me?" while tryin' ta sit up. "Aw, jus' something ta ease your little virgin nerves baby brother. Can't have word gettin' out my lil brother is a minute man now can I? Ladies might think that includes me too. So how was it?" he asked, like none of the fucked up shit 'fore that mattered. "Why'd ya do it?" I asked, tryin' ta stay awake. "Had ta prove you weren't no fluffer. People startin' ta talk in this town, bout you. Can't have people think'n my little brother is a fuckin' fruit loop. We're Dixon's." was the last thing I heard for everything went black.

As ta why wakin' up, wantin' someone touchin' me was pretty fuckin' strange. Not jus' someone though, jus' her. Her hands were so soft, 'n her hair felt like silk in my hand. She tasted so fuckin' good, n the sounds she made…If I'd ever had any concern 'bout my dick workin' like it was suppos'd ta, I didn' anymore; just the feel of her hands on me and her taste did it for me, but that moan made me want ta thrust up inta her. Which is why I end'd it there… I was dirtin' her up with my filthy hands on her soft pale skin; hands that didn't deserve to touch her. She was so pretty, n' her smile, no one ever smiled like that when I ever came 'round. She need'd ta find somebody good, like her, 'n that wasn' me.

Shakin' off those thoughts, I got up ta go hunt. I was runnin' late to the meetin' spot, 'n as unsure as I was 'bout actually goin' there, that's where my feet led me. But she wasn't there, 'n no new sign of her bein' here since yesterday; though we'd been workin' on her leavin' less of a trail, that boot cast thing always left a certain imprint in tha soft ground. I didn' know what ta really do, so I set out on my own, my mind now wonder'n if she'd made it back ok… she did miss tha dinner too though. Maybe she jus' didn't wanna see me. Now I was really feelin' like shit; I still wanted her ta be 'round even though I couldn't want her like that, not that I did'n want to… I'd ruin her though, something so pretty and nice; Dixon's always did.

I didn' get shit on my hunt, nor did the woods calm me down like usual. Comin' up ta the prison, I jus' wanted ta go ta my cell and try ta sort the shit out in my head when Glenn rushed ta open the gate. "Thank fuck, man… look you and me need to talk" he said, lookin' quite relieved I was here for some reason; it's not like I had anything to show for my day out. Walkin' over to the side of the guard tower after him, I waited for 'im to get on with it. "Look man… geez. What did you say to Bella? Cuz Rick's trying to convince the council to exile her, not like that will happen, but still.." I cut off his ramblin' "What the fuck are you talkin' 'bout? Bella was here? What do you mean exile?" I ask 'im, wantin' answers like fuckin' yesterday, 'n relieved that Bella was fine.

"Look… I uh" he stopped for a minute, lookin' nervous all of a sudden, "I saw you and her yesterday. It was my turn to be in the tower and I saw you… I saw her run off too," he said the last part quietly, not lookin' at me. "Man, what did you do to her?" he asked, lookin' back ta me. "I didn' do shit! You said ya saw us, ya know I didn' do shit ta her!" I defended myself, thinkin' he was accusin' me of somethin' else, like physically hurtin' her. He was quick ta hold up his hands jus' 'fore I went ta walk off, "No! No man, not like that… Geez. Chill the fuck out. No one around here even thinks you're like that… all I meant was what did you say to her? Why'd she run off? Cuz today… damn. She showed up here about two hours or so ago drunk off her ass, like barely up right, wasted. Brought us a good lunch though, how she managed to shoot anything I don't know with her barely being able to balance without the walking stick she had. She pulled a gun on Rick.." I stopped 'im there, "What?!" that girl had the patience of a saint most days, so something set her off.

"Well, he was asking her about being drunk and how old she was, then went to grab her to probably put her in the drunk tank. She drew her gun so fast... Told him she may be drunk but her aim was spot on, that she had shit to do and she was leaving no matter what. She went out that way…" I was already walkin' back out the gate by the time he finished, headin' in the direction he pointed out. Not too far from tha prison, I came 'cross somethin' that made my stomach turn; on the ground was a smashed bottle of Jack 'n in a tree was 'bout 5 inches of her hair, still tied up. Girl shouldn'a been out here drinkin' 'n shit…. It was life or death out here. It didn' look like a struggle happen'd here, just got 'er hair stuck 'n broke the bottle. I untangled the hair 'n looked at it 'n my hand… It was dumb of me ta feel bad 'bout the loss, but I really liked her hair, 'n wondered what it look'd like now that she'd taken a knife ta it.

Shruggin' it off, I put it in my pocket 'n continued ta track 'er. She wasn't wearin' the boot cast thing no more, instead had a pair of new boots 'ccordin' ta the crisp imprint they left. Weren't hard ta follow her, with the trail of dead walkers 'n her wake. It looked like she was killin' 'em with tha stick Glenn said she had 'cause she wasn't using her bow. Slowly, I follow'd 'er trail ta a mechanic shop, n after a quick look inside, I was left with more questions than answers. Tha blood on tha floor didn't appear ta be hers since one of her foot prints was in it, but then again, she had some weird healin' ability. My heart had 'bout stopp'd at that the jagged foot prints leavin' the pool of blood, my mind thinkin' walker; but there was more prints that was jus' fine… I didn' know what ta think of it, so I went back outside ta look round, findin' prints follow'd by tire tracks, 'n what look like walkers, in that order. I follow'd those all the way back ta the bunker, findin' more dead walkers 'long tha way. The bunker was closed up 'n lock'd, so I set off back ta the prison; tryin' ta sort through all the shit goin' on in my head. Know'n she was fine or at least fine 'nough ta lock the bunker up, made me feel slightly relieved; but the clump of hair in my pocket felt like a brick…

MPOV (Michonne)

Waking up in this place, a bunker is what Bella called it, had been strange and frightening. Especially since I had just managed to escape 'the governor' with an almost fatal wound, if it wasn't for Bella finding me, it would have been fatal. For having a drunk surgeon, everything had been healing nicely. That first day here, after taking her advice to lie back down, she didn't wake for a really long time, but I guess your first hangover will do that to you. I had watched her walk to the bathroom and then proceeded to listen to her bitch to herself about being an idiot, and oddly enough complaining about her hair. She soon came back, clutching a cup of water with her hair piled in a bun on top of her head, offering me a can of soup; then set off to explain everything that had happened and where we were.

It was slow going, but we got to know each other more over the next few weeks as she kept an eye on my wound. The governor had stabbed me, just as I killed his dead daughter; escaping only because he was so distressed about the whole thing. Bella would tell me about the prison and her friends there, and show me things about her family back home. I would catch her watching videos on a laptop, crying when she thought I was asleep. She never really slept more than a few hours a night; going hunting in the morning for both the prison and the both of us, then she obsessed over what looked like maps.

I had started to clean things up, doing the laundry and cooking whatever she brought in, keeping the fire lit, trying to pull my weight since she was taking care of me. She'd told me I was welcome to stay here, or I would be welcomed at the prison too. She gave me another 3 weeks to be healed enough to be able to wield my sword and another 8 to 10 weeks before lifting heavy objects. I'd told her about the governor, catching the hint of recognition in her eyes; before she told me I shouldn't worry about him because he would be dead before spring was over, and then proceeded to look over her maps. I didn't really know what to do from there; the governor was the only thing that really gave me a purpose at the moment. I decided to keep an eye on Bella for a while, because it sure seemed she didn't take care of herself lately.

She had been quite muscular when I first met her, but now she was withering down, even with all the training I would catch her doing in the middle of the night with the variety of weapons she had the weight seemed to fall off. I had to almost force feed her; I would put a bowl in front of her and she would wave me her thanks then work around the bowl, writing and sketching her own maps and taking notes, so I would have to once again put the bowl in front of her and tell her to eat. When she finally looked up, knowing I wasn't playing around, she would take a few bites, and then go right back to what she was doing. She had dark bags under her eyes from no sleep, and the only time she seemed to get any sleep, it didn't seem restful. She would toss and turn, crying out different names, most common of which was Daryl. I was concerned, but she waved me off, saying she was just stressed about something she needed to do soon.

The day I was up and about, she took me to the prison, showing me it from a distance. She would've introduced me, but I waved her off, still thinking I needed to accomplish my own mission. We parted ways, me with a key to the bunker and an invitation to come back anytime; and knowledge that she would be leaving in the spring to head to Washington. I was worried about leaving her to her self destructive habits, but I needed to find the governor and get rid of him. She wouldn't tell me what her missions were, waving me off with advice to stay away from the train tracks, while she proceeded to pull out some of the biggest guns I had ever seen. Before I left, she gave me a hug, and reminded me about not lifting anything too heavy while shoving extra food in my pack. She was the first person I would consider a friend in all of this, usually preferring to be alone, but I found myself missing her the further I walked on.

BPOV

Michonne was good company, to what was now an empty bunker. She had left on a mission that gave her life purpose, and I couldn't blame her for that, considering that's what kept me going most days now. I had been back to the prison a few times to see my friends there and to check on Sofia. Sofia was awfully understanding of why I wasn't around more and I wondered if Alice played a factor in that. I had to seek Carol out on one of my visits to fix my hair after my drunken haircut. I had taken to wearing it in a messy bun lately because pieces would stick out all over the place when I braided it. It wasn't really all that short, just choppy and uneven, down to almost my bra strap. She gasped as she asked what my hair ever did to me to chop it off like that, so I proceeded to give her the short and impersonal version of the events that happened that day. Also informing her that I had tried to convince my friend Michonne to give me dread locks like her but she had refused, saying it would be criminal to bind up hair that looked like mine. Carol laughed as she cut my hair, listening to the stories I offered; giving me a long layered cut that looked like something a 5 star stylist would give. Alice would've been proud.

I know she saw through most of my half-truths and skipped information, but she never said a word about it; along with not lecturing me about my body either, but instead, shoving a bag full of powdered doughnuts in my hands as she worked. She was cool like that, knowing not to press for information, probably knowing from experience that I wouldn't talk about it anyway. I just couldn't seem to keep the weight on… I tried to remember to eat and all that, but I just had a lot to do. It wasn't like with what happened with Edward, I still liked to eat and food tasted fine but I couldn't forget my purpose.

Lori was about to pop, and I had given Rick a dressing down one day about how family was one of the most important things now days and that he needed to unlodge the stick he had shoved up his ass; he needed to let go of what happened with Shane and Lori in the past, and try to be in the now before it was too late. That was the first time I had seen him take my advice seriously since the first time I met him. Hershel would tut at me when I would hug him, saying I was about down to that 100lbs I loathed so much and to take better care of myself before he moved in with me to do it himself. I had laughed him off, but he was serious as could be. Amy and Beth were well into advanced self-defense now, getting some of the D-block people to help them practice. Tyreese was a good opponent to go up against, being so big and strong, he was intimidating; but they didn't let it faze them.

Glenn had been really careful around me, which was disheartening; maybe I had put him in a bad spot the day I showed up drunk or what not, but he never said. He was still friendly with me and everything, but thought his words out way too much when he would talk to me, like one wrong thing would set me off. I finally confronted him, and after much persuasion, he finally told me what he saw the day Daryl and I took down the deer. My face had flamed in embarrassment, while my defenses went up; almost waiting for the teasing to begin, like what Lauren Mallory used to do when Edward left me. Not that Glenn was a bad person and I had no reason to really expect that from him, but to know he saw me get rejected still made it all that much more real. I stiffened when he wrapped his arms around me in a hug and proceeded to tell me that's what was wrong with him, that he was so nervous about knowing something that I didn't think anyone else knew that it was eating him from the inside out. I hugged him back, shrugging off his words of concern about how little I had become.

When we parted, he tried to tell me something about Daryl but with a shake of my head he stopped talking. Daryl… I had done well with avoiding him so far, but every time I thought I might be ready to see him again, he was nowhere to be found. Until one day, the day before I was to set out on my plan to take on Terminus, I saw him approaching the gate from afar, coming in with his kills for the day. I was getting ready to leave already and hoped to open the lines of friendship once again, or at least cordial communication. So walking myself out, when I passed him I said "Hi, Daryl" quietly still looking down at the ground, but I knew he heard me as his head whipped around fast. His stuff hit the ground with a clunk and he came jogging up to me "Hey, girl. Wait." I paused my movements right as I was about to open the gate but kept my eyes on my own feet as I felt him approach. "Look, I … Bella..Can ya' 'least look at me?" I wanted to resist, knowing the pain I would feel looking in those artic eyes, but when he pleaded so, I just couldn't.

I had to hold in my own gasp as I took him in, he looked rough. And not the rugged manly rough either; more like he had got about as little sleep as I did. He looked much older than he was and I started to feel bad; I should have paid more attention to him even though I was hurting. He was unable to hold back a wince as he took me in, but instead of being offended, I knew exactly how he was feeling since I looked at myself every morning. I looked like shit. "I.. I'm sorry… but ya took what I said, or didn' say that day in the woods wrong, girl. It's me. I ain't good 'nough for ya…" he said, mostly looking at the ground, but the last part he said looking right in my eyes; Like he truly believed what he said to be true about not being good enough for me… My heart broke for him a little more, as I tried to think of how to fix this.

"Shouldn't I be the one to decide that?" I asked him, watching him shuffle his feet, getting ready to flee. Shaking his head vigorously he responded, "Nah… Bella, you don't know me… I ain't worth your time of day. These hands are far from bein' clean, the life I usta live…; a girl like ya wouldn'a looked my way twice." He said strongly. "Look, Daryl, I don't agree with everything you said," I paused as he started to shake his head to interrupt me but continued on" but I know you are not going to listen to me about that right now… But the truth is, is that you don't know me either if you believe what you said is true… I have something I need to do tomorrow, but I need you to take this" I said softly, handing him an extra key to the bunker, "Just in case things go differently than planned, everything you all need know is there in the bunker." I waved him off as his mouth opened with questions he wanted to ask before snapping it shut. "And Daryl… Merles going to be fine. He'll end up the same place we do, and I think you'll be relieved to know he will be a changed man…" I told him, watching him tense up at the mention of his brother and then scoff in disbelief. I just wanted to try to ease his worries some, and though he never mentioned it, he missed his brother whether he wanted to or not.

We both walked off at the same time, him heading for the prison, and I for the gate, each other's words weighing heavily on our minds. I was relieved to know that it wasn't me that had him pulling back, but sad that he himself was holding back due to some idea that had probably been planted in his head from the time he was old enough to understand words; that he wasn't good enough, a nothing, a nobody, just a Dixon as he had said before, like the name was a curse that would haunt him forever. If I lived past tomorrow, hopefully I could set about changing his mind, I thought with new found hope. I headed to the car I had found and had loaded all the supplies I would need for Terminus and drove to the safe house near the tracks; getting a head start before Daryl could think about tracking me, after all he couldn't follow tracks on asphalt.

I didn't want any of them getting involved or coming near this evil place. Alice's warning about Rick rang loudly in my ears, if he was to get involved, we would all be fucked. I thought about Michonne as I set up things for the next day, prepping my weapons, taping together sticks of dynamite, and laying out the bullet proof vest Alice had made for me. I hoped she was doing ok and didn't do anything stupid when I came to the governor. As I fell asleep, I thought about Daryl and all the ways I hoped to open his eyes.

-!-

Terminus had been intense, and I took a shot to the shoulder at the edge of the vest for my efforts. I blew that place to smithereens, picking off survivors one shot at a time. Even waiting around for a scouting group to return and used my rocket launcher to blow them out of the water too. The mass of dead ones that rushed into the area was phenomenal; some were on fire from walking through it as more just poured in from the trees, attracted to the noise from the multiple explosions. I had to fight my way out like never before, while trying to stay focused even though I was getting dizzy with blood loss. I had only had a moment to dig out the bullet, which thankfully was fully intact, and pour some Clot-n-Stop on the wound. By the time I made it back to the safe house, all I wanted to do was crash out, but I was still too close. So I forced myself to drive back, and walk the mile back to the bunker, where low and behold, an aggravated looking Daryl stood.

Stopping a few feet away from him, I leaned on the yellow steel cart I used to get the stash of weapons to the car and back, and waited. And waited some more, but he never said a word, so I opened the door and struggled to pull the wagon in, when he finally stepped in to help. "What the hell ya been doin'? Christ…" he said, looking through the stuff in the cart, "Ya blow up a whole fuckin' town or what?!" I shrugged nonchalantly and said "Kinda." The disapproving look that crossed his face for a second stung, but I guess it did sound pretty bad. "They were cannibals Daryl, like hang you up like a piece of meat and make steaks out of your ass cannibals. Leading people in with a false sense of hope that 'All who arrived, survived' when in reality they would put you in a rail car where you could barely move, to fatten you up on powdered milk and tenderize you before they butchered you like a cow going to slaughter." I said tiredly, but none the less serious. Shock crossed his features before anger followed shortly after "'N ya didn' think ta take any one ta help ya?! Gotta do it all 'urself? Ya tryin' to die?!"

Too tired to really argue with him, I opened the second door, where he hesitated outside, but eventually came in after closing the first door. "If Rick got word of any of it, we would've all been fucked, so yea I had to do it myself." I told him simply as I plopped down in a chair, unstrapping the bullet proof vest that had taken more than one hit, and tossed it to the side. Daryl starred at it by his feet, too many emotions passing over his face to register any one in particular, while I set about cleaning my wound and the very hard task of stitching myself up in a mirror. After about the third time of stabbing myself in the wrong spot Daryl came over and took it from me, "Won't look pretty, but I can close it up" was all he said, I nodded to him and stared at the side of his face while he worked. He would glance at me now and again, till he stood and announced he was done.

After a brief moment of him checking out my living space, he grabbed his stuff and hesitated once more, "You good?" he asked. I nodded, knowing that telling him he could stay was pointless when he looked so uncomfortable. He nodded and bolted out the door, but before he closed it, he asked "Ya gonna meet me tomorrow?" while paused in the door way looking out into the woods. Surprised he asked, I smiled when I answered him, "Yea, but I won't be any good to hunt for a few days or so, with a bullet wound and all. Oh and Daryl, thank you." He nodded his reply, still looking away from me, before closing the door and locking it with the key he still had.

A little hop skip and a jump around the timeline. Let me know what you think!