It's been too long. Oh well, at least I got it done.

Enjoy!


Pain.

Loathing.

Shame.

Hatred.

Emptiness.

Those emptions weighed heavily on Blake's heart as she leaned against the tree, allowing he loose hair to fall in front of her face and shield her from Carl's eyes. She couldn't look at him. She felt like he was judging her, even though she was sure he wasn't. She was too ashamed of what she'd had to do-what she'd asked that filthy son of a bitch to do-in order to save Carl from these feelings. She thought she would have gone through anything a hundred times to keep Carl from feeling the pain, but now… she wasn't so sure.

TWDTWDTWDTWDTWD

Pain.

Guilt.

Uselessness.

Sadness.

Rage.

Carl experienced each of these feelings as he stared at Blake. More than anything, he wanted her to look at him. He wanted to see her beautiful face, convey that everything would be okay with even the quickest of glances. But she stayed still, her blonde locks falling just so he couldn't see her chocolate eyes.

"Anyone else have 'business' to attend to before we move on?" Joe asked with a smirk on his face. The sun had risen and the camp was being packed up.

"Why not?" Another man who had been relatively quiet said, untying Blake's feet and hauling her to her feet. She shied away, staring at her boots, but didn't resist as the man led her away from the clearing. The lack of fight in Blake caused Carl's heart to break for the hundredth time as he watched her passively go with the man. Carl knew that Blake was being cooperative in an attempt to save him from the pain she was experiencing, but he couldn't stand that. She shouldn't have to go through this for him. He hated himself because of it.

A moment later, Joe was at Carl's feet, untying them. Carl stared at him, eyes wide as his stomach began to twist in fear. Once the knot was undone, Joe grabbed Carl's arm and yanked him to his feet. "Come on, boy." Joe's tongue ran over his teeth in a menacing manner, making Carl shiver as he anticipated what was about to happen to him.

Carl could feel every inch of the rag in his mouth as his throat ran dry, and was grateful when Joe turned to him, peeled the tape off of his mouth and pulled the rag out, allowing the teen to breathe slightly easier. "Let her hear you scream." Joe drawled in a disgustingly amused voice as he led Carl out of the clearing and into the woods, in the opposite direction Blake had been taken.

Carl limped along side Joe, trying to figure a way out of his current situation. If he killed Joe, he could get around the clearing where the others were set up and rescue Blake. The only problem was, he didn't exactly have a weapon, or the use of his hands.

Once the two had walked for what Joe thought was a reasonable amount of time, he threw an unsuspecting Carl to the ground. The boy grunted in pain, refusing to yell like Joe expected.

'How the hell am I going to get out of this?' Carl thought as a foot collided with his ribcage, rolling him onto his back. Again, he refused to make any noise.

Carl tried to sit up, but Joe was on top of him, pinning the teen to the ground before he had a chance to move. The man leaned down, hands on either side of Carl's head and whispered, "What the hell are you gonna do now sport?"

Before he even knew what he was doing, Carl forced himself off the ground, sinking his teeth into the soft flesh of Joe's neck. The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth as he tore a chunk from Joe's throat and the man made a gurgling sound as he fell forward, pinning Carl underneath him. The teen spat out as much of the pervert's blood as he could with more crimson still raining down on him.

"Carl!" he heard.

"Dad!" Carl had never been more relieved in his life. Joe's body was pulled off of him and his bonds were quickly cut, allowing the boy to wipe some of the blood off of his face.

Rick pulled his son into a tight embrace, not caring that he was covered in blood. Wait, he was covered in blood. "Are you okay?" Rick exclaimed, looking his son over.

"I'm fine." Suddenly, Carl remembered that he hadn't been the only prisoner. "Blake."

"Where is she?" Daryl asked quickly, knowing what could have happened.

"That way." Carl pointed. "On the other side of the clearing."

Daryl was gone before Carl had finished speaking, jogging through the trees, avoiding the voices that floated through the air.

When he came upon the scene, Daryl nearly dropped his crossbow. There was blood everywhere, and the body of the man was unrecognizable due to the multiple stab wounds. Daryl stared for a moment before movement caught his eye. He did drop his crossbow-just in time too-as Blake came running at him with what looked to be a miniature dagger.

Daryl caught the girl's wrists to keep her from stabbing him. "Blake." He said, looking into her eyes. Her oh so deranged eyes. "Blake!" She tried to twist out of his grip, clearly in an attempt to kill him. "Blake it's me! It's Daryl."

Blake continued to stare at the man before her for a moment, but realisation crossed her face and the deranged look melted from her eyes, leaving them empty and cold. Blake yanked her arms out of Daryl's tight hold, shoving the blade back into her boot and facing the man with a blank face

"Where are the others." She asked, no emotion in her voice.

"Taking care of the rest." He answered quietly. Suddenly, gunfire rang out and voices echoed through the trees. Daryl turned in the direction of the clearing, scooping up his crossbow and standing ready. Blake grabbed a pistol from the dead man's belt and matched Daryl's stance, ready to take down anyone who may have fled the scene.

Uneven footsteps sounded after the gunfire ceased, and both Daryl and Blake knew it was Carl coming through the trees.

"Blake?" When Carl appeared, Blake was shocked. He was covered in blood; his hair was matted, his face covered, his blue sweater had turned purple in the shoulders, his teeth were even stained crimson.

Carl was equally shocked with Blake's appearance. Her sweater and jeans had been dyed deeper shades of black, her hands were completely red, and the left side of her face had trails of red running down it.

"It's not mine." Blake assured in a flat tone when she was Carl's eyes on the blood on her face. The sticky liquid had splattered into her hairline, making it look as if she herself was bleeding, but she wasn't. "Let's go." With those two words, Blake disappeared through the trees, heading towards the camp. She wanted her gun back.


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