We ran for a long time until we found a little neighborhood, we were far enough away that we could finally settle down. We picked a house and made sure it was clear. I checked upstairs while Daryl checked downstairs. My half of the house was clear and I didn't hear Daryl say anything so his was probably good too.

I looked around while I was up there. I found a plain black shirt and changed out of the one that had the tear in it. The new one was oddly shaped and was a little too long in the front and back, but I didn't care. It was clean.

I finally looked in the mirror at myself. My face was pretty much covered in blood and I had a split lip from the guy hitting me with his gun. I sighed and started wiping the blood off my face. I also ran my hands through my hair, it was still too short for a ponytail.

I was about to go downstairs but then I stopped in front of another room and had a thought to get Daryl a new shirt. His did completely rip after all. I grimaced as I remembered seeing those scars on his back. I had so many questions. Where did he get them? Who did that to him? And with what? I looked around in the closet for a man shirt. I remembered just then when I thought of Daryl that he spanked me. My face went red. I can't believe he did that! The thing that's got me the most is that…part of me actually liked it…

Daryl was in the dining room when I walked into the room, I wasn't sure what he was doing. I went through the kitchen and came up behind him. "Here." I said quietly and sat the shirt on the table.

I walked over into the living room and started to light some candles. It had gotten pretty dark. I heard the sound of material ripping and looked over at Daryl, he was ripping the sleeves off. That's what he does with all his shirts. He won't when the weather changes, which should be happening soon.

I sat down on the couch with a candle in front of me on the coffee table, I was just looking at the little flicker of the flame…

"What'd ya light so many damn candles for?" Daryl said to me.

I looked at him then back at the candle. "I like candles." I finally replied. He walked into the room and sat down in a chair. We were both quiet for a long time. I absentmindedly looked up and around and realized Daryl was looking at me. I just looked back down.

"Hey." He said making me look at him. "Did…did that guy…do somethin' to you?"

I stared at him for a minute then looked back down at my candle. "He didn't rape me, if that's what you're asking." I said with raised eyebrows. "But he did touch me. Everywhere."

"I'm sorry that—

"I handled it." I cut him off quickly and looked at him. "He's taken care of and gone so it doesn't matter anymore." I think I saw Daryl nod but I'm not sure, he continued to stare at me. I looked away from him. I kind of regretted the way I said that, I don't want him to think I'm mad at him. Despite all the horrible things we said to each other, I wasn't mad. I still want us to be friends, but I don't think he wants to. "This one smells nice." I said referring to the candle, I think I just said it to be saying something. He didn't say anything to that. I sighed and sat back.

I started thinking about everything and finally the emotions were catching up to me. I didn't stop myself, I let me get upset. I did. I couldn't take it anymore and started saying my thoughts out loud. "You know," I started, "I wasn't worried when we left the prison because I thought we all would have found each other by now." I didn't look up at Daryl, I just stared at my little flame. "Maybe…maybe we don't see them ever again. And I know." I finally looked at him. "I know things don't get better. They only get worse…but…" I stopped because I could feel the tears coming. My lip began to quiver and a took a deep breath. "I didn't expect this." I started crying a little and laid down. I didn't cry very hard and not for very long, maybe like two minutes. I took a few deep breaths and stopped crying, wiping away the remaining tears. I still laid there with my hands over my eyes until I was completely calmed down.

Once I did, I swung my legs on the side of the couch and just sat there. I took a few more breaths. "You can sleep for a while if you want." I said to Daryl. "I can keep watch." I stood up, blew my candle out then walked into the other room.

I could see through the curtain on the one window, it gave me a pretty good view to outside. Taking a glance in the other room, I saw that Daryl listened to me and went to sleep on the couch. He deserves a rest.

I looked back at the window. I wonder if he really doesn't care about me? I know he did before, when we were at the prison and that but what if that was just because of everyone else being there? And because of the circumstances. I tried to think real hard. Has he ever done anything for me to show me that he cares for me personally? I couldn't think of anything. Then, I started to feel upset again. I bet he wouldn't be like this with me if I were Michonne or Carol or Maggie. My eyes welled up with tears and I took a few deep breaths.

I had to take a quick walk to the back door and check around out back there because I was about to cry and I didn't want to wake up Daryl. I finally just gave in and let myself cry.

It hurt. Bad. This pain that I had inside. It wasn't just now either, it was back at the prison too. Carl said he heard me crying. I remember wondering if anyone else heard me? If they did, they didn't care. I put my hands on both sides of my face and kind of wiped my tears with my pinky fingers. I stayed back there until I stopped crying. Then, I went back to the front window and kind of leaned my head against it.

I didn't feel anything.

At all.

This is depression.

The next day, I wasn't feeling as bad as I was last night. I'm sure the depression is still there and will pop up at some point again, but I was pretty content right now. It probably had something to do with me crying last night. Maybe I needed to get that out. No one was there to comfort me, but I did it myself. That's when I realized that…I don't need anyone else. The only person in the world that can make me feel better is me. No one makes me laugh harder than me. No one makes me cry harder than me. So that means, no one can comfort me better than me. I'm my own worst enemy but I'm also my own best friend. I was going to do fine on my own. And it gave me some confidence to know that.

Daryl and I pretty much stayed away from each other that whole day. It had gotten late and I was sitting at the dining room table writing some stuff when Daryl walked in. "Hey." He said to me.

"Hey." I said.

"You should get some sleep now. You didn't last night."

"I'm fine." I shrugged. I really was. I didn't feel tired at all. It will probably hit me later, though. Daryl sat down in the seat in front of me.

"How's yer lip?"

"Fine." I said without looking up. "It probably needed stitches but it'll just have to heal on its own."

We were quiet for a little after that. I was trying to write a story. I haven't done that in a really long time. I can still be a writer even though the world ended. Everyone still wants to hear stories. Well…maybe not everyone.

I heard Daryl clear his throat. "Hey, Abby…" He said.

"Yes?" I asked without looking up.

"Hey." He said more forcefully. I guess maybe he wants me to look at him. I finished the sentence I was on then looked up at him with a weird look. "I just wanted to tell ya that…you ain't self-centered…or weak or helpless…or slow and I'm sorry I said that. And I was wrong. You don't have to rely on anyone else. You handle yerself."

I stared at him. What is this? He's seriously apologizing to me? I was not expecting that at all. I thought he was still mad at me and didn't want to be friends? That for real came out of nowhere. I was caught off guard and felt stupid because I didn't know what to say really. "Um…" I looked down and tapped my notebook with my pen trying to think of what to say. "We both…said some really shitty things to each other. Mostly because we were mad…probably?" I raised an eyebrow and looked up at him.

He nodded. "Well…I wanted to tell ya that. And I'm sorry I…hit ya."

I was surprised yet relieved. I nodded. "Thanks. And…me too…for what I said." I didn't even want to bring up any of what I said yesterday. It was horrible, especially when I called him a dog. I inwardly cringed. "Uh…no one ever…did that to me…before." I said referring to the spanking. My parents didn't believe in that kind of discipline.

There was a brief pause. "I…saw those scars on your back." I said seriously. I closed my notebook and pushed it aside. "Your dad do that to you?"

Daryl put his head down and rubbed his hands together. He looked kind of uncomfortable. "Yeah." He said quietly. Was he embarrassed? He shouldn't be.

"Well…if no one has said it to you before, I am really sorry." I said seriously and looked directly at him. He looked back up at me. "I'm really sorry." I looked into his eyes this time. "That's a thing that shouldn't happen to anyone, and I know it does but…and I'm not trying to sound corny but you can't change what happened to you…in the past…but you can have a say in your future." He was just staring at me. I couldn't read his expression, but I think he was actually listening to me. "You're angry. I know why. But all that anger you have inside…it's not doing you any good…and you have to let it go. Or it's just going to be worse for you." I stopped. He was still looking at me. I could tell he was uncomfortable, but he needs to hear all of this. He looked like an adolescent boy with his hands in his pockets not wanting to look at you in the eye. "And I know you feel guilty about what happened back there but you don't have to. It wasn't your fault."

He was also looking upset after I said that. I had to keep it going. I made myself feel better by crying so maybe he will too. "Don't." He shook his head. "I stopped lookin'." He said, he sounded a little angry again and stood up. "That's on me. I coulda done somethin'." He was getting choked up and looked like he was about to cry. He turned away from me.

"Daryl," I gave him a serious look even though he couldn't see, "it wasn't your fault." I got up from where I was sitting and hugged him from behind. I'm surprised he let me and didn't try to shove me off. Finally, I heard him crying. I just hugged him tightly while he cried. He made this whimpering sound that made me feel really bad, so I started rubbing his back with one hand and kept the other around him.

I hope this changes things a little.

It just got dark out and I was looking out the window into the backyard. It's amazing how dark it gets now, you know, with no street lamps and stuff.

"Hey," Daryl said, "you said ya wanted to look at the stars the other night so, let's go look at 'em."

I gave him a surprised look and looked back out the window then back at him. I remembered how that one line caused that whole argument. "No, uh, we don't have to." I shook my head. He gave me a weird look. "I mean…uh, we should probably stay inside."

"It'll be okay." He said quietly. "I want to. I like lookin' at the stars, too."

I gave him a quick smile. "Okay." I shrugged. We walked out onto the back porch and sat down. "I hope we see a shooting star." I said after some time. "This one time…wait, never mind." I stopped myself.

"Ya cain't start to say somethin', and just stop." Daryl repeated my words from earlier.

"Well…okay." I started again. "So, this one time, at my friend's house, we were in her yard. I was waiting to get picked up, and I looked up at the stars. You could see them really good that night. So, I said to my friend that I never saw a shooting star before, and literally right after I said that…I saw a shooting star."

"Ha." Daryl said. "Ya must be good luck."

"No." I let out a little laugh. "My friends always told me that whenever I say something, it happens. So, they would tell me not to say anything."

He just snorted. There was a brief pause.

"I never thanked you for bringing back those meds." I said. "You saved me."

"It's what we do." He said playing with his knife. I smiled, and looked back up at the stars.

"Why don't ya tell another story?" Daryl suggested.

"Why do I always have to tell the stories?" I complained. "You tell one."

"I don't got any."

"Bullshit." I laughed. "You can't tell me that you don't even have one story to tell."

"Not good ones."

"They don't have to be good." I admitted. "Just memorable. In fact, it's a lot easier to remember the bad times over the good."

"You're tellin' me?" Daryl said. "I ONLY remember bad times."

I looked at him seriously. "Come on." I urged him. "There has to be something nice you remember? Just tell me anything."

He stabbed the pole with his knife, and cleared his throat. "Alright," he started, "when I was little…I always wanted a kite." He snorted. "So, Merle got one for me. Probably stole it." He kind of laughed. "Well, I couldn't ever get it to fly. I tried every single day, and I couldn't ever get that…damn thang to fly. Merle always said he would help me, but…he never did. He was always off somewhere. So, I got sick 'a waitin' around one day, and I told myself that this time I'm gettin' it to work. So, I waited for a nice strong wind to blow, and then I let it go and it went up. It started flyin'. I got real happy, and started runnin' with it. Eventually though…damn thang got stuck in a tree."

There was brief silence, and then…I busted out laughing. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry." I said.

"You laughin' at me?" He asked.

"No! I swear!" I said still laughing. "It was just the way you ended it. Like I was expecting you to say something else, but you didn't."

He started to laugh, too. "I told ya I didn't have any good stories."

"No, it was good." I said truthfully. "I liked it."

"Yeah, it was about the only nice thang Merle ever did fer me."

Things got serious again. "You miss him don't you?" I asked. He didn't reply, just looked down. "Well, I don't mean this in a bad way, but see, you didn't need him then and you don't need him now." He nodded. "You got the kite to fly with out his help, and now, you just have to get it out of the tree, and back up into the sky." I laughed. "See what I did there?"

He gave me a look. "Mhmm."

"Seriously, though." I sat back, and sighed. "I miss Carl. I miss my dad, we were always super close. And I miss my mom." I became a little sad when I thought about her. "You know, my mom and I," I paused, "we used to argue all the time, especially after I started high school. I think it was just because we were too different." I paused. I realized I never told anyone this and stopped because should I really say it? I wonder if Daryl would judge me? "You know, my mom and I had a thing between us. Like we weren't that…close." I made a weird face. "I don't know why, but we just weren't." I swallowed hard. "I mean…I love my mom and I know she loved me, but…I always just thought she was like embarrassed of me or something?" I stopped and took a deep breath. "This is going to sound really bad but…I don't even know if I can say it." I wiped a stray tear.

"Just say it." Daryl said. "It's okay. Might make ya feel better about it."

"I doubt it." I said with raised eyebrows. "You won't think so either once you hear it." I took a deep breath. "Okay, so…I wasn't as…sad…as I should have been when she died. I was more like disturbed. I felt guilty because I was the one that…did that to her. But I also felt honored in an odd way because she wanted her baby to live and I was able to…deliver her, I guess." I shrugged and looked down.

Daryl was quiet for a minute. "I could tell." He finally said. "I knew ya wasn't right after, when we went to that place to get the baby supplies."

I nodded and swallowed the lump in my throat. "I just didn't feel…feel like me." I looked back up at him. He nodded. I leaned my head back against the pole. "Another thing is that, my little brother shouldn't have been the one to put her down. He was just a little kid. I shouldn't have let him do that." I felt that guilt all over again and looked down like I was in pain.

"It's okay." Daryl said. "He's a tough kid."

"He is a tough kid." I looked at him with wide-eyes and smiled. Then I realized what he said. "You just said, he is and not he was. I crossed my arms over my chest and gave him a sly look. "Does that mean you do still think they're alive?"

He gave me almost an annoyed look and didn't answer right away. "…maybe."

"I knew it." I smiled. We both got quiet for minute. "Do you think I'm tough?" I asked Daryl.

"Yeah." He nodded. "You're tough." The way he said it made me question, though. I was about to say something but he spoke first. "And you're really smart."

I perked up. "Really? You think I'm smart?"

"Yeah. That was some psychologist shit in there."

I smirked. "Well, actually…I didn't think of all that myself. I used to watch a lot of Dr. Phil before the turn." I laughed. Daryl just stared at me for a moment then he kind of laughed out of nowhere and shook his head, which made me laugh. We were quiet again for a minute.

"Sometimes, I wish I was a boy." I randomly admitted.

Daryl let out an almost laugh. "Why?"

"I don't know." I shrugged. "It's hard to explain. Guys just think about things differently. I grew up tomboy so I was always around guys, and things were so much less complicated. I mean…we did some really dumb things, but it was…freeing." Daryl didn't say anything. "Let's take you for instance," I started, "back at the prison, you could be like, 'hey, I'm goin' on a run,' and everyone's like, 'alright, be careful,' and that's that. But if I did that, ha, my dad would never let me."

"He just worries about ya." Daryl stated.

"Yeah, I know, but he worries about everyone, and still let's them go." I looked down, and back up at him. "I wanna be more like you."

"…I'm just used to this, things bein' ugly, growin' up in a place like this." Daryl said.

"Well…at least you got away from all of that."

"I didn't." He said.

"But you did."

"Maybe you'll have to keep on remindin' me sometimes." Daryl said.

"No." I sighed. "That you have to do on your own, just like the kite." I made a gesture with my hand like it was flying.

He just stared at me, then sighed. "And…they weren't worried about me cuz…it don't matter what happens to me. Who cares?" He said nonchalantly.

"I care." I gave him an annoyed look. "And so did everyone else. You're not worthless, Daryl. Everyone liked you."

He stared at me. "Why you so nice to me?" He put his head back.

"Cuz I like you." I half smiled. "You're different." I remembered saying that to him a while back. "I wanted to be friends with you since…we first met."

He gave me a kind of sideways smile back. "We should go inside." He suggested.

"Mmm…no…we should burn it down. I always wanted to burn a house down." I laughed. "We should. We should burn it down." I was half joking.

He just looked a me for a moment, then got up and walked towards the door. Aw, man. Now he thinks I'm stupid. I looked down. "We're gonna need to find a lot of booze." He said, and went inside.

I smiled real big, and ran inside.

We splashed and poured the alcohol we found all over the house. Then, we went and stood in the yard.

"Ya want to?" Daryl asked handing me the matches.

"Fuck yeah!" I lit the stack of dollar bills, Daryl must have taken from the cash register from the store, he threw it onto the porch.

We watched the house light up. Bye bye. I thought. Now I can cross that off my bucket list.

We continued to watch the house burn until the walkers showed up, then we took off down the street.

I had a feeling that things were going to get better. Yeah, I missed my dad and everyone, but I have Daryl now and we can start anew.