Hey y'all! And Happy Ishtar. I would like to present to you chapter eight of Running Away Never Works. To paraphrase, the fluff stops here. Things get a lot more serious between Daryl and Kyra from here on out. Again, the title song is Empty, by Ray Lamontagne, along with "Paper Airplane" by AIison Krauss. Thanks to all who reviewed and favorited. I think someone even put me on their Favorite Authors list. Boy that made me happy. :P And to those of y'all who put me on Author Alert: Thank you so much. I feel like that's the biggest compliment you can get in this site. Y'all know who y'all are. ;)

So before we gets started, let me address a couple reviews:

GypsyWitchBaby: Sorry to disappoint. But that's not how this story unfolded for me. *sheepish face*

Leyshla Gisel: Here's why I didn't do that. There's a fine line between literary sex and porn. A lot of authors will jump from the first romantic overture to the morning after, because sex is one of the hardest things to write descriptively. If I was to write the sex, it would have had to have some sort of symbolic meaning. But since it didn't I skipped over it. You dig? :P

Nelle07: He is isn't he? I like to think that's why he's such a favorite on the show.

Drummerchick06: Thank you. I try.

England101: Why thank you! Daryl needs a strong and independent woman. :P

RainbowShelby: Thanks! More is on the way! :D

When he woke, his instincts told him he wasn't alone.

"Wouldn' think aboud it too much, li'l brother, 'f I were you. You know good 'n damn well why she left ya."

Dammit, he knew that voice. He swiveled his head around to see Merle sitting cross-legged next to him.

"Fuck you, Merle." He slurred, chuckling to himself. The rational side of his brain screamed at him that Merle was gone and didn't give a shit about him.

"Naw, man, you think about it. She done up an' left you. I tol' you all she wanted was some cock."

"Fuck you, man, she coulda gone to Shane for that."

"I'm tellin' ya, baby brother, all she gon' do is hurt ya. You gotta separate yerself from th' likes a her."
"Shut the fuck up, you don't know 'er like I do."

"Ah think I do, baby brother. She ain't nothin' but trouble, leaving you like a empty Bud can or a used rubber on the side a th' road."

"What're ya sayin'?"

"Dumbass, I'm sayin' leave 'er. Why the hell else would I a tried to beat some sense into yer thick skull? Jesus boy, ain't you ever gonna learn that ain't nobody gonna care about you 'cept me?"

"You got a point, brother…" Daryl's eyelids grew steadily heavier and he couldn't stop himself from falling asleep again.

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Daryl still had no idea how long he was asleep for. Judging by the sunlight that was adding to his already vicious hangover, it was maybe about noon. He reckoned he'd slept through the rest of yesterday and into today. Or maybe longer. Either way, he didn't know. Instead of hunting he stayed to himself, only just now completely at a loss over the death of Sophia. Sure he he'd fucked Kyra, but the little girl he'd promised to find was dead.

During Sophia's funeral, he noticed Kyra standing some distance away from him, staring at the ground with her hands in her back pockets. She looked like she was feeling guilty over something she'd done. He disregarded it at first, but then Merle's words from last night returned to him. He shook them off and glanced back over at Kyra. Sure enough, she was still looking just as guilty as she had a moment ago. Again, Merle's words rang in his memory like gnats buzzing about his ears.

(All she gon' do is hurt'cha. She ain't nothin' but trouble. Ain't you ever gonna learn that ain't nobody gonna care about you 'cept me?)

Daryl tried to push his brother out of his head. Really, he did. He let his mind wander back to that night, to the crush of their bodies against each other, hoping it would distract him from his brother's nagging. But then that only brought him back to where he was. After trying and trying for hours unsuccessfully, Daryl gave in. Once again, Merle was right and he was wrong.

Rage bubbled up, simmering and seething just far enough below the surface to be out of sight.

Later that day she found him again at his campsite, re-fletching some of the older bolts.

"Carol wanted me to talk to you." She said matter-of-factly, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. "She's afraid you're gonna pull away from the group."

"Why you say that?" He wouldn't look at her. Let the whore talk her way into her own trap first. Then he'd get her good.

Her voice got quieter. "I don't… I don't want… We've already lost too many people in too short a time, Daryl. I don't want to lose you too."

He carefully set down the arrows and glared at her. "You don't, huh? Why not, 'cause you won't have anyone to fuck anymore? I hear from Andrea Shane's a pretty good lay, if you don't mind pigs. Why don't you try him since you're done with me?" The look he fixed on her could have frozen Hell in an instant.

Her face blanched then burned bright red. "What the fuck are you talking about?" She retorted, shocked and hurt and confused.

Daryl stood and rounded on her. "I know you think I'm just another stupid, horny redneck, but I'm smarter than you think. Did you really think I was going to be dumb enough to not realize that all you wanted from me was sex?" (I loved you, bitch, and you fucking ruined it)

Kyra could have slapped him. What the fuck was he getting at? How dare he…

"Where did all of this come from, Daryl?" She demanded, carefully reigning in her temper. "What happened to thinking we were in love with each other? Or were you lying to me instead of the other way around?"

He put his face dangerously close to hers and gritted his teeth. "Woman, don't you play innocent with me. Whatever kind of relationship you think we had, it's over. We rushed into it, alright? It's done. Get out of my sight."

She took a deep breath and cleared her face of any emotion, gazing coolly at him with a blank expression. But he could see the rage and denial and hurt and maybe even hatred burning in her eyes like wildfire, along with the effort it took her to hold it back. She was clenching her fists, for one thing. Her knuckles were bone white.

"That's the way it's gonna be then?" She choked out at last. Her voice was close to breaking; her heart was well past it. "Fine; I had fun last night. Shame it won't be anything more than a one night stand."

With that she turned on her heel and stormed back to the house.

"Good riddance, bitch." He muttered, returning to his arrows.

So that was it. They were done. Daryl should have been relieved.

But he wasn't.

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Kyra slipped back into the house, ghosting on silent feet up to her room. Maggie was off somewhere, Hershel was out doing something around the farm. Beth was supposed to be helping Carol and Lori with the laundry, Patricia was canning something. So if she was quiet she'd get left alone.

As soon as she reached the little bedroom she shared with Maggie, she closed the door quietly so as not to alarm Patricia, and sank back against the door. Sobs racked her body, despair and agony the likes of which she had never felt before. How the hell could he do this to her? Was he really as insensitive and pigheaded as he seemed at first glance? What had she done wrong? She felt like something had torn her heart out of her chest and fed it through a meat grinder while it still beat. The pain was almost physical, she hurt so bad. How could she let him do this to her? She was stronger than that. Why had she chosen to open herself up to him in the first place? It might have been because she had put out for him. No, that couldn't be it. But still, the even the insinuation of it made her feel like a slut.

She sat there and cried for a good hour and a half until someone came looking for her. She lifted a hand up and locked the door, sniffling and wallowing in her own misery.

"Kyra? Are you in there honey?" Carol. Christ Almighty and the twelve disciples, why did it have to be Carol? Fuck.

"Yeah." The younger woman croaked. "I'm in here."

"You don't sound too good. Can I come in, please?"

Dammit. This was a catch-22 if she'd ever seen one. Either way she would be admitting something was wrong. Might as well suck it up and deal with it. That was what her daddy would have told her to do about it, at least.

"Yeah. Hang on." She unlocked the door and moved over to the window, her back towards the door so that her tear-stained face wasn't visible right off.

Carol entered quietly and shut the door behind her. "Did you talk to Daryl?"

At the mention of the redneck's name, Kyra's throat tightened and she choked back a fresh onslaught of tears. She was only able to nod.

Carol saw the tears and gasped quietly. The older woman moved around and put a hand on Kyra's arm. "What happened, Kyra? I know Daryl's a little harsh but you have to try not to take it personally, it's just how he is."

The irony was humorless but amusing nonetheless. And don't I know it. Kyra thought. But of course she couldn't tell Carol that.

"He loves you, you know. Daryl." Carol continued, like she was trying to comfort Kyra in some way.

It struck Kyra as odd. Carol was the one who had just lost her daughter. Shouldn't she be the one comforting the older woman instead of the other way around? Instead Kyra just turned away, almost as is she was hiding bruises that weren't there. Her hand flew to the hollow of her throat; she could almost feel his arms around her again.

"No he doesn't." She whispered brokenly.

And then she lost it again. She wailed and blubbered, curled up into a ball on the floor. Carol knelt beside her and rubbed her back, not asking what had happened, even though she was certainly surprised at this turn of events.

When the younger woman's sobs had resided some, Carol gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "I know he does, Kyra. I've seen it in the way he watches you. He adores you, and I don't think he could get by without you."

Kyra simply stared out the window. To Carol, she looked like a lost child caught in the rain. Utterly miserable and hopeless at the same time. She knew that look. It was the same one she'd worn on so many long nights before when Ed would beat her within an inch of her life.

The words echoed in Kyra's head.

(He loves you, you know. Daryl.)

(Whatever kind of relationship you think we had, it's over. It's done. Get out of my sight)

(I know he does)

Chills ran down Carol's spine as she watched the younger woman's face harden and her voice go cold and flat.

"No, Carol. He doesn't. I know that now." Kyra sat up and wiped her eyes, her face dark and stormy. She stared out the window, unconsciously clenching and unclenching her fist.

See if she would ever have anything to do with Daryl Dixon again.

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Dun dun dunnnn! Another cliffhanger! Stay tuned for more, peeps! Don't forget to review!