A/N: Warning, sexual violence

For the next few hours they unloaded supplies from the bunker and brought them upstairs. Daryl looked at what they had brought up so far and shook his head. They were going to have to work something else out, there was too much in the bunker to get in the truck. Daryl wanted to find a way to get it all back in one trip, otherwise they risked losing the remaining goods to other scouts if they made more than one trip.

"I'm thinkin' we take a ride into town, see if we can find us a box truck or big van or somethin' so that we can haul all of this at once."

Mac had just come up the stairs from the bunker with an armload. "Ye got it boss" she said, dumping the containers.

They decided to take a break and run into town to scout for a larger vehicle. It only took them a few minutes, but Mac couldn't help but steal glances out of the side of her eyes. Daryl was driving, one hand on the wheel, chewing on the thumb of his other. He seemed lost in thought, but to her surprise, he didn't seem agitated or uneasy about what had happened in the bunker. She was worried about the possible tension in their relationship that seemed to always pop up when good friends went beyond friendship. Daryl suddenly stopped the truck, leaned over and planted a firm kiss on her lips, then smiled at her. Then put the truck back into gear and took off again.

"Okay then" she chuckled to herself, thinking he had read her mind.

They drove around looking for a large truck, one that was preferably gassed up and still had its keys. They saw one in the distance and headed towards it. It was one of those large moving trucks, the kind you could rent for the day for a local move.

"Perfect!" Mac cried. They pulled up and Mac popped into the cab while Daryl made sure the area was clear. He took out a couple of walkers nearby, letting loose a bolt into each one. Mac popped back out, "Keys are in the ignition, but the tanks empty."

Daryl looked around, "maybe we can siphon from one of these other cars and fill it up. I hate to leave it, it should hold just about everything".
They scouted around the town and found a hardware store. They took care of the walker inside and found some tubing and a bucket, but they needed a funnel in order to get the gas into the truck.

"Daryl, I'm going to check around in the back" Mac said.

"Got it."

Daryl kept searching the shelves when suddenly there was the sound of things crashing on the floor and a grunted "Fuck!" It sounded like Mac had knocked something over.

"You okay back there?"

"Mac?"

Instantly on guard Daryl made sure the crossbow was loaded and raised it up and began to work his way towards the back of the store. There was what looked like a large storeroom with the door slightly ajar. The hair on the back of Daryl's neck was raised and all of his internal alarms were going off.

He pushed the door open with his bow and stepped in quickly to clear the room. Before he had a chance he was hit upside the head with something hard, dropping him down to the floor. Before he could regain his footing and get his bow back up someone kicked it out of his hands and two pairs of hands jerked him back up roughly, wrenching his arms behind him.

"Mother fucker what the fuck you doin!" He growled. He was yanked around and on the other side of the room was Mac, being held the same way by a sleezy looking man with a large knife to her throat. She was bleeding from her forehead and by the look in her eyes was spitting mad. Her dirk and sword had been taken and were now being held by the man who stood off to the side, looking at Daryl.

"Who the fuck are you, you son of a bitch!" Daryl spat.

"Tut, tut, such language" said the mystery man. Tall, light brown hair, bit of a sophisticated look in his eye. He stood with his arms clasped behind his back, Mac's blades dangling from his fingers.

"Perhaps you could tell me who you are, and what group you're with", he said. He oozed psychotic charm from every pore. Daryl instantly had the sense this man was dangerous, very dangerous.

"I ain't tellin' you shit" Daryl growled.

Mr. Charming laid the blades down on the table and walked closer to Daryl.

"Well as the old cliché goes, we can do this the easy way, or the hard way. Who are you, and where is your group".

"And as I said before ya dumb fucker, I ain't telling you shit". Daryl was pissed as hell.

Mr. Charming tilted his head slightly and suddenly one of the men backhanded Mac, splitting her lip open.

"You goddamn mother fucking shit!" Daryl yelled, trying to fight his way away from his captors. He and Mac both had two men holding them, and three others standing close by.

Mr. Charming tilted his again, and again Mac was backhanded, this time the force throwing her head back so hard it came forward on the rebound and into the knife's edge, drawing more blood.

Daryl roared at him, "allright! Alright you fucking asshole! I'll tell you! Just stop hitting her!"

Mac tried to make noise at him and shake her head, telling him not to but was threatened with another hit.

"We're on our own, ok? We don't have no group. They're all dead". Daryl hung his head.

Mr. Charming looked at him, "now see, I find that hard to believe. I saw you two trying to get that big box truck running. What do two people need with such a big truck?"

"I ain't give a rats fuck what you believe dickhead" Daryl spat. He was so pissed he was ready to rip everyone limb from limb and feed them to the walkers piece by piece.

The man next to Daryl rammed the butt of his rifle into Daryl's gut, then smacked him across the face with it.

"You watch your mouth when you're talking to the Governor you white trash piece of shit" the man said.

Daryl looked at the man who hit him, the back to this Governor, then answered by spitting a mouthful of blood at the man's feet.

"I told ya, we're on our own. We was planning on sleeping in the truck" Daryl said dangerously.

The Governor sighed, then turned on his heel and looked at Mac, then his men.

"Perhaps, perhaps not. I would not, however, be a good leader if I took chances. Can't risk the chance of you having a larger group coming to take what's ours now, can we?"

"Martinez," he said to the man who had struck Mac, "find out what they know. Use whatever means necessary". And with that the Governor strolled out of the room leaving the rest of them behind.

Daryl looked at Mac, who was definitely in pain. He tried to give her strength with his eyes, but he knew they were in dire straits.

Martinez looked from Daryl to Mac and back. "Well I'm guessin' these two are lovebirds. Maybe we're asking the wrong person our questions".

With that he landed a fierce punch to Daryl's face that rattled his teeth. Blood began to pour from his nose. Martinez looked at Mac.
"Where's your group?"

"Like he said, we have no group. We're the last of them" she rasped out.

Martinez hit Daryl again.

"Lying bitch! Who. Are. You. With?!" he spat at her and then slapped her.

"Go fuck yer self you bloody fucker!" she snarled.

Martinez looked at one of the men. A lanky, dirty guy who seriously gave Mac the creeps. "Harmon, why don't you have some fun then"
Martinez told the leering man.

Harmon's eyes lit up. Daryl's heart stopped beating and dropped into the pit of his stomach as he guessed what Harmon was about to do.

"You fucking son of a bitch don't you fucking dare!" he yelled. Martinez punched him again, then took his bandana out of his pocket and used it to gag Daryl. "Enjoy the show" he said, then left. "Let me know when you're done" he tossed over his shoulder. Daryl was forced down to his knees, his arms still wrenched behind him.

Mac's eyes had gone wide and somewhat glazed. Her fear was so intense she thought she was going to pass out. She wished she would so she wouldn't have to endure this. Not in front of Daryl, god please not in front of Daryl. Harmon was in front of her and before she knew it he took her own knife and used it to cut her shirt down the middle, and then sliced her bra.

"Ooh boys, she's got fine tits eh?" he said. Mac closed her eyes, trying not to give this pig the satisfaction of seeing her ultimate terror in her eyes, and tried not to whimper when he roughly grabbed her and fondled her.

"What you say we all take a turn" he laughed out. Mac could hear Daryl yelling through his gag and could hear him frantically trying to fight free. She couldn't bring herself to look at him. She tried to find a happy place in her mind to escape what was happening, but just couldn't reach it. All she could hear was Daryl sobbing, smell the fetid breath of the pig touching her, and feel the shame and terror. Suddenly Harmon grabbed her away from the men holding her and threw up again the table, bending her over it. And then he was on her.

Daryl was coming out of his mind. He couldn't seem to loosen the grip the two guys had on him. All he could see was Mac, his Mac, being abused and he was seeing red. He had never felt so frantic, so helpless and so sick to his stomach in his lifetime. Not even when his Daddy beat the shit out of him and let his friends in on it. Suddenly the desk move when the force of them hitting the desk pushed into his captors and knocked one of them in the leg. He pulled his leg up in pain and Daryl realized he had his opening.

Daryl yanked to his side and in doing that caused his other captor to go off balance and then into the one who had his leg up. They all toppled and Daryl used this to jump up and out of their grip. He whipped around and punched for all he was worth into the captor closest to him. He pulled the knife out of the belt on the other and slit his throat. The two guys who had been holding Mac before Harmon took her jumped into the fray. One tried to grab Daryl from behind but Daryl leaned back into him then used the desk to kick up and over. It was far from graceful, but it did what he intended. He came down on top of the guy just as the other came down on top of him. Daryl got the knife up just in time for the man to impale himself. He slid the knife back out and rolled and stabbed the other man.

He stood up and set his sights on Harmon.

Harmon had his arm around Mac's throat, squeezing, while a knife was at her side.

Daryl leveled a dangerous gaze on him and went still. He was like a coiled rattler, waiting to lash out with a deadly strike.

"Let her go, now" he said, his gaze predatory and murderous. He started to circle Harmon slowly.

"Like hell hick, maybe I'll just take her with me" sneered Harmon. "Stay back asshole!" he yelled, jabbing the knife into Mac's side when he saw Daryl inch closer.

Daryl stopped moving, but was still on the balls of his feet, his knife ready. He caught Mac's gaze, giving her a silent signal. She didn't respond so he hoped like hell she caught it.

"Let her go and I just may let you walk out of here". Daryl was looking for any opening, even the smallest hole, that could give him a chance to attack Harmon. Harmon was trying to work his way over to the door when someone yelled from the outside.

"Harmon if you're done fuckin' her get your ass out here so we can head out!"

Daryl got his chance. At the yell from outside Harmon had turned his head to yell back and in the same instant Mac pulled her head down and to the side. In the split second it took her to do that Daryl had flipped the knife so he had it by the blade and had it thrown straight into Harmon's eye. Harmon slid down, hit so fast he never even got a chance to yell. Mac stepped away from him, watching him hit the floor, then reached down and pulled the knife from his eye, knelt on top of him and began slashing at Harmon. By the time she was done, he had been decapitated and there was certainly no fear of reanimation. She was covered in blood, both her own and Harmon's.

Daryl was silent. He felt like his heart had been ripped out. He looked at Mac, he didn't know what to do. Mac sat there a little too silently. Daryl pulled his shirt off and gently moved to her, sliding his shirt over her, worked her pants back on,covering her and trying to restore even the smallest bit of dignity for her. God damn, he didn't know what to do, hold her and try to comfort her? Stay away and not touch her? Shit she was too quiet. He took her hands gently, not saying anything.

"Mac, can you walk? We need to get out of here before the others come back". Mac didn't look at Daryl, just nodded silently. He stood up, still holding her hand. He needed that connection. He was scared, really scared. He felt so fucking helpless right now on how to help her.
He recovered his crossbow, Mac's blades and the other weapons the enemy had and crept out of the back room. They crawled up to a window where Daryl noticed the Governor and the rest of his men standing near a tan truck and a black Hummer. Looking around Daryl saw he could slide out a side window that was broken and hopefully hightail it out of here.

He managed to get them out of the hardware store un-noticed and two streets away before the Governor decided to go back to the hardware store to see what the hold up was with his men and the prisoners. Daryl had to make a decision. Getting back to the truck would just draw attention to them, and he doubted he could outrun the hummer and other truck. It wouldn't take long to use up the fuel they had left. Staying on foot meant trying to hide somewhere safe long enough for the Governor to give up searching and leave. Neither option was even remotely good in his mind.

The only thing he could think of was to hike back to the house with the bunker and hope they weren't discovered. He looked at Mac, trying to judge her state of mind. She seemed alert, if silent.

"Do you think you're up to making it back to that house on foot? I don't want to risk the noise of the truck." Mac looked at Daryl and nodded. Daryl held her gaze a moment and it seemed as if something moved through her eyes. She stood up straight, ran her hands through her hair and said, "Lets go". Daryl squeezed her hand then turned back to the window.

It was tough going, trying to move silently through the streets into the rural area, both of them badly beaten. They had managed to avoid the Governor's men, but on two occasions came incredibly close to being caught again. When night fell they finally had the advantage of the darkness. It took a few hours but they finally found their way back to the house with the bunker. After making sure it was still clear of unfriendlies, Daryl led Mac back down to the bunker. He did his best to cover the trap door that had led down, hoping that if the Governor's men did find the house, that perhaps they wouldn't see the trapdoor.

Once inside he sat Mac down on the little bed and wrapped the blanket around her.

"Rest for a minute, I'm going to go through the medical supplies in here and try to patch you up, ok?" Daryl held her hands, squeezing them gently, trying to reassure her. Mac looked at him and said "sure thing." She was emotionally distant, and Daryl was terrified of doing the wrong thing. What the fuck should he do? Did someone who suffered an atrocity like this want to be held? Reassured that everything was ok? Should he keep his distance due to being part of the offending gender? If he hugged the hell out of her like he wanted to do, would he drive her even further away into her nightmare? His emotions were in such turmoil, he felt he would explode. Pure, unadulterated rage at what these fuckers had done to her was at the forefront, overwhelming despair right behind it. He wanted nothing more than to find the rest of this group and slaughter every single one of them. He didn't know whether to scream out in his rage or break down into sobs for what they had put her through. Instead, he took a deep calming breath and pulled out some first aid and set to work trying to help the woman he was beginning to realize he loved.

A/N: So this chapter was really tough to write, but as you'll see in the next one, there is a connection to Mac's past. I re-wrote this a couple of times. I'd love to hear reviews if you have time!

Coming up next: Mac becomes emotionally undone. Can Daryl hold on to his lass?