Hello, my lovelies! Deepest apologies on this update being well over 2 weeks late...had a lot going on lately and finally was able to finish this chappie last night! I bet you'll find several mistakes here and there, so again, I apologize lol. Thanks so much for all the love, kind comments, follows, and favorites on this fanfic so far! I couldn't ask for anything more :)

Lemme know what you think of this! Big things ahead for our dashing duo (Lol i sound like something straight out of The Princess Bride-which I finally watched and LOVED, btw)

Please let me know if I'm keeping in character with these two or not. Seriously, it would NOT hurt my feelings if you didn't think so! I want to stay as true to the way the creators of TWD made them!

Till next chappie!

XOXO,

OceansAria :)

I stayed adjacent to the tree line all the way up the highway to where I'd last heard the car horns. Day rolled towards its end, night slithering into the woods around my ankles. Soon, I'd have to stop for the night if I didn't find the drivers.

After all of the crap we've been through! Does he just expect me to follow him around like a puppy all the damn time? I'd been boiling all afternoon over my quarrel with Daryl, and knew that I'd still be pretty pissed with him even when I went to sleep that night.

Voices. Male and female, high and deep. They startled me out of my inner rant. I stopped just shy of crossing over the ditch to the road, deciding to hold back and think up a plan. Obviously, telling them I was alone wouldn't be smart—they could try to take advantage of me, then I'd have to well, take care of them. Telling them I had a camp wouldn't be good either, because the minute they laid eyes on absolutely nothing but wastelands they'd go from sunshine to shit, if they were ever sunshine in the first place.

So I'll just tell them the truth with a little dash of white lie. Glancing down at my still-damp clothes, I tugged at my clean ponytail to fray it. So much for a bath. I bent and plunged my fingers into the mud at my boots, smearing the stick all over my arms and face, making sure I looked the part of a desperate girl who'd been stuck in the woods too long. I pinched my cheeks though they were already the color of cherries. To top it all off, I had to make myself cry. Think of something sad. Which shouldn't be too hard.

Daddy's smiling face was the first thing I saw whenever I closed my eyes, then there was a gleaming katana blade, his smile gone, and rivulets of blood cascading down his neck—

"Okay, okay," I gasped aloud, leaning back against the tree. I hadn't realized I was hyperventilating until the sound battering my ears triggered as my own. Tears flowed and hiccups bubbled in my chest.

I was ready.

Bursting through the trees, I startled the flock of people sufficiently for several to immediately raise and aim their weapons at my head. They stood in a rough circle, blockaded on all sides by different models of cars, all painted a matte black. A dirt truck was parked a ways off with a load of walker bodies piled in the back. Just like I thought! They're like some kind of clean up crew. They're drawing the walkers in and taking them out.

"No, please!" I threw up my hands in surrender. "I'm not gonna hurt you! I—I just need your h-help! My friend—h-he's hurt!"

A short, wiry man stepped forth. His shotgun hung lazily over his chest, resting by the machete hanging at his hip, as if he didn't find me nearly as threatening as the rest of his group did. "Why should we believe you, little miss?"

Anger scratched at my tone. "W-Why would I lie about somethin' like this?! Please! We lost our group and our camp! We have nowhere to go! His leg is broken and I don't know how to set it—"

"Hey, hey. Sweetheart," The man got close enough to touch me and I could actually feel the hairs on my arm recoil. Something about his slicked hair and wide-eyed trust me please gaze made me want to forget the plan and run right back to Daryl. The way this man said 'sweetheart' wasn't anything like the way my friend said it. "You're alright, sugar. We ain't gonna hurt you neither. Just tell us where your friend is and we'll help the best we can."

"R-Really?" I couldn't believe it had been so easy and showing my relief wasn't the best idea. "I-I mean—yes, please! Thank you so, so much!"

The man gave me a small smile. He squeezed my wrist and turned towards his group to call out several names. "C'mon, y'all. You two, go back to ground zero. Let Marx know I'll be late for dinner."

Dinner. My stomach yelped eagerly. All I'd eaten lately were stringy rabbits and squirrels. Dinner sounded like biscuits and green beans and mashed potatoes. Focus, dammit, focus! I forced another smile, much like the one I'd given not long before.

"Lead the way, sweetheart," the man ordered. He didn't let go of me even as he set his free hand on the trigger of his gun. "If you're tellin' the truth, we'll do what we can for you. If you're lyin', you'll do what you can for us."

Red alarm lights flashed, tickling at the back of my throat like bile. I gave another eagerly meek nod, held back a branch, and declared, "Follow me."

James—the short leader—stuck to my side like a slug as I led him and his comrades in the exact opposite direction I'd come from. I knew the woods pretty well; if I took the alternate route and circled back around to Daryl and I's campsite, then hopefully I could steer them clear of Daryl himself, who normally would be hunting for supper at this time in the evening. I then could pull another stunt and maybe, just maybe, they'd buy that my friend had somehow gotten away from me on a broken leg and they'd take me in. I could get them to trust me, give me supplies, help me 'find' Daryl—

"Hey. Sugar, you sure you know where the hell you're goin?"

I shrugged one shoulder. "Um, not really. I've never been good at keeping up with this kinda stuff. My friend's a tracker."

"Heh." James smirked. "Guess you're lost without him then?"

"Oh, yeah. He's kept me safe, fed me, sheltered me." I didn't have to add any emotion behind my words—my gratitude for the good deeds Daryl had committed for me shone through. "I gotta at least try to help him with this."

James reached out and squeezed my shoulder like we were old friends. "Real heart of gold you got there."

"Thanks." I grimaced to the side when James wasn't looking. His people chatted among themselves to our rear, their weapons lowered and eyes carefully aware of the woods surrounding us all. "We should be gettin' close," I said, reaching towards my side to where I'd hidden my knife in the band of my underwear.

"I smell smoke," James confirmed my statement. Despite his grotesque advances towards me—such as holding my hand far too long when helping me over a fallen tree and smiling like a cheetah who'd closed in on a gazelle when I pulled away—his hazel eyes were somewhat superficially pretty in the dimming forest. "Somebody's definitely nearby."

My knee knocked the fishing line strung with cans from bush to bush first. I motioned to James to watch his step. They silently followed my lead into the deserted campsite. Daryl's pack was gone, the fire had been put out, but the torn tarp we used as a tent remained. Knew it. He couldn't have gone too far, though. The furthest we'd gone was the river.

"Nice set-up you got here," the single woman of the group commented. "And, uh, where is your friend?"

"Yeah." Another said. "If his leg is as bad as you said it was, he should be resting."

I feigned anxiety. "U-Um, he was right there when I left." I waved my hand at the tarp. "There's no way he could've gotten on his feet and walked away."

James said, "Not without help."

My understanding of his implications burned at my ears. He thinks I lied. He thinks it's not just the two of us. There was no time to come up with another white lie to pile on top of the others—James pounced on me like the predator I'd theorized he was, pressing me back into one of the thin trees lining Daryl and I's camp. My breath was knocked clear from my lungs; not a single member of James' group did a thing to stop him as he pushed his face so close to mine that the peach fuzz on his chin whispered over my cheek as he spoke in my ear. His pinkies hooked in my belt loops, his remaining fingers slipping under my shirt to rub over my skin. I swallowed thick and fast, recalling the only other time a guy had touched me like this was when Zack and I had actually gotten to second base at the prison, not long before he was killed—but back then, I'd wanted something to happen.

"Listen to me, you little slutwad. I knew you were lyin' from the second your sweet ass came out of those woods cryin' those adorable crocodile tears. I ain't no fool, and neither is anybody in my group. So whether your friend, or friends, are really around or not, you're comin' with us. They'll just have to fend for themselves out here."

Stay still. Stay absolutely still.

James' rubbed his nose against my cheekbone. "And like I said before, you gonna do what you can for us. Earn your keep." He released my belt loops and took my wrists captive. "Now, you gonna come willingly or am I gonna have to tie you to me?"

Nod. Don't speak. Nod.

"Great." He didn't free me but he didn't tie me to him. His gaze leered over my frame. He announced loudly, "When we get back, I call dibs for the first few days, fellas."

Bastard. You disgusting, nauseating, pig-faced bastard.

"Awww," the men moaned in unison, cackling as we turned to start towards the highway. "You better share her after your time is up, Jamie," the woman cackled. "I need an extra hand in the kitchen. We ain't got nobody washin' dishes."

James hand swished down my back and took a rest at my opposite hip. He pulled me closer, and I reluctantly obliged. "I dunno about that, Eleanor. She might be too good to let outta sight."

A bolt whizzed from behind a tree up ahead and landed with a solid whump! in James' kneecap. Blood gushed as he crumpled to the ground, his shotgun going off, bullets flying wildly into the air. "Shit!" he bellowed. He glanced back at his group and frantically motioned them to move towards the direction of the bolt's flight. "Go! Damn you, go!"

I drew my knife, my shaking fingers struggling to clamp around the handle. I gotta get to him. Rushing the tree, I too almost recieved an arrow to the eye when Daryl popped out, bow blazing and eyes trained on his sights.

"Daryl!" He grabbed me and flung me behind him, advancing forward to stand off against the three of James' people still erect. They also had their weapons at the ready, though their hands were quivering like my own. "Daryl, I had this! What are you doin'?! They were gonna help us!"

Daryl barked, "Shut up!"

"Did you follow me all the way here?"

James cut off Daryl's reply; his shotgun hung heavily from his shoulders as he pushed himself upright, scarlet smeared on his hands. He raised one soiled hand in compromise. "So," he grunted. "Your tracker boyfriend here doesn't have a gimp leg after all. Can't believe you sicced him on us like a mutt, sugar."

"I didn't, I swear!" pleading, I inched forward around Daryl. "I didn't know he was here!"

James snorted. "Wow. I can't believe you're still lyin' to my face!" He held out a hand to stop Eleanor from advancing. Her expression was purple with murderous intent.

One of James' men sneered. "I told you, James. Something about her won't all there."

"Hush, Juarez. You ain't part of this." James' once pretty hazel eyes chilled into slits, his top lip curling into sneer like Juarez's. "You think you got the advantage, huh, Terminator? Wrong. We're a couple dozen strong back at our camp. And, unless sweet Beth here isn't lyin' after all, it's only uno and dos." He pointed lazily, as if the rupturing pain in his knee was transparent, at Daryl and then me. "And our captain, Marx, ain't as much a teddy bear as me."

"Teddy bear, huh?" Daryl growled. "That won't what it looked like t'me when you had your paws all over her."

"You shut your yap, mutt," James chuckled sinisterly. "Now, I can see you're real protective of your girlfriend, man. I understand that—what with all the crazy hell goin' on around us day in, day out—but you know you're not gonna be able to always keep her safe out here on the road. You know it."

Daryl shoved the tip of the readied arrow until it scratched James' nose. Eleanor and Juarez moved forward with the others, calling out, "Hey! Hey, watch yourself, bud!"

I grabbed a fistful of Daryl's vest, clenching it until the leather screeched to keep him from filling James' face with arrows. Don't do anything stupid. Don't. Do. Anything. Stupid. Jaurez, a jowly, thick man with a thick black beard and a head full of curl matching black hair, walked closer to James and to us even though his leader had told him not to. His finger was eager on the trigger of his AK-47.

Despite my grip on him, Daryl shifted forward to meet Juarez at the invisible line in the dirt. "Get. Back." Daryl threatened.

"Aw, guys," James said. "C'mon. I was gonna offer you two to come back with us anyway. Beth could've at least tried to make it up to everybody for Legolas here screwing my knee straight to hell. You, Mr. Terminator, would be lucky to make it through a week at camp without having your brains blown out by Marx—with that attitude of yours."

I glanced at James, estranged, crumpled, and soaked in blood on the ground. Daryl didn't refrain from keeping Juarez sited but I could feel him glaring rigidly at James from the corner of his eye.

Daryl began, "You say one more thing and I'll—"

Eleanor shot wide, grazing my shoulder instead of Daryl's as she'd aimed for. The shot ringing through the woods sent all the others into frantic motion—Daryl pulled his trigger next and the bolt went clean through Juarez's shoulder, then Daryl swung his fist into the man's gut several times over. Juarez bellowed in anguish and jammed his elbow up into Daryl's face, catching his eye; the remainder of James' party went scampering in every which direction, Eleanor dragging Juarez behind her before Daryl could finish him, both of the anonymous members yelling obscenities.

"We can't leave James! We can't leave James!" Juarez cried out repeatedly.

"We have to!" Eleanor screeched. "C'mon!"

Daryl held off from following them. We both knew it was useless. Everything was over and done in under a minute but it felt ten times longer. Relief swelled in my stomach when I could no longer see their four backs.

My legs locked, my tongue drying to sandpaper in my mouth. I felt my shoulder bump the nearest trunk, fire seething over my burst skin. Not even the pain gauged me from paralyzation—but the cocking of a pistol did.

"Daryl, please don't."

"Why not?" The butt of his pistol pressed deeper into James' temple. "He almost—" Daryl's eyes, one already flowering purple and blue, wouldn't quite meet mine but stopped somewhere around my chin. My stomach seized at what he was trying to say. He almost took advantage of you.

"I know." I couldn't will my feet to move. What Daryl could do to that man—no matter if the man was a pervert and didn't deserve mercy or grace of any type—disturbed me. I raised my hands out to Daryl. "I know. But we can't—"

Car horns sounded off like music in the distance. Distracted, I listened for one of two possibilites: moans and shuffling, or gunfire and pounding feet.

"Daryl—" Moving towards him, I grabbed blindly. "We need to go." He was solid, nothing but statue when I touched him. "Daryl. Please! We need to get out of here! You don't need to kill him!"

My frantic pleading went on until the muscles loosened in his arm beneath my fingers and he stepped back, turning the gun's safety on. A sigh rattled my ribs in relief; nothing had come for us yet. "C'mon," I coaxed again. He shook me off. James wriggled like a snake on the ground at our feet, blood pouring from his kneecap. Bits of bone and tendon shone through. "Daryl."

His ears picked up on the quivers in my voice.

"What? You 'fraid of me now?"

I kept my expression still and my chin raised.

"I haven't ever been afraid of you."

It took him a moment, but he nodded, slipping his pistol into the back of his jeans and dropping his vest over it. I handed him his crossbow from where he'd set it down.

We didn't realize James had rose on his good knee or that he'd pulled his machete. I didn't realize he'd grabbed Daryl by the calf until Daryl oomph!ed. It happened so fast yet so slow—one second, we were whole, we were walking away—the next, the man's machete sliced into Daryl's dominant shoulder, drawing a cut deep as a ravine.

I rushed to catch him as he collapsed.

"Daryl!"

And so Beth rushes to save her redneck Prince Charming again... :P

Ignore me I'm just an obsessed fangirl.