19.

Four days passed since he told Merle about Frank and he hasn't seen him since. He suspected his brother left the prison to avoid him, needing time on his own to deal with it. That was more than fine for him too, since he had no desire to face Merle either.

Nobody else in the prison knew what went on between the two of them, save for Niko, who didn't speak to anyone anyway. He didn't see much of her either. He wondered if she was avoiding him as well. That he had to reveal the long buried part of his past, was one of the few regrets he had. It made him feel exposed in an unpleasant way and all he could do was to hope that these awkward feelings would pass soon.

His injury was healing although Hershel had to re-do the stitches after he escaped from the bed. His body still recovering, he promised he'd stay in bed for another week. But on the fourth day, as soon as Beth left the room, he slipped out again.

He looked for a remote part of the prison and sat down behind one of the blocks in the shadow. He chose a place, he thought nobody would notice him, but it didn't take long before Niko joined him. How the hell she found me so quickly, he wondered, reluctant to admit it was her company he hoped for.

"Disobeying the doc again?"

"I'm fine."

"Can I touch it?"

The cigarette he was about to put in his mouth remained in his hand. "Touch what?"

She made an awkward smile. "The stitches."

"Ehmm…" he mumbled, but her hand already reached towards his belly and slipped under his shirt. Her fingers were cold, nevertheless her touch caused him a warm sensation.

"Well, you'll definitely have a scar."

He chuckled and removed her hand from beneath his shirt. "Do I look like I care?"

"Just as fine….it will serve you as a reminder."

"A reminder of what?"

"Of me."

He stared at her. He wished she removed her glasses.

"At least somebody will remember me," she added.

There was an attractive sadness in her voice. He remembered the cigarette he just put in his mouth and lit it. He offered one to her, but she didn't react. "Umm…you want one?" He shook the box in front of her face.

"No, thanks. Not today." She pulled up her legs, wrapped her arms around them and leaned her chin on her knees.

"Sure some other folks will remember you. You ain't the kind to be forgotten easily," he said, trying to lighten up the atmosphere that turned heavy.

She replied with a big grin. "Oh, that's the nicest thing anyone said to me in a while."

He didn't mean it strictly as a compliment but not wanting to spoil the moment, he refrained from elaborating on that. "Well…sure as hell you must have impressed that blondie. I mean, why else would she be after you?"

"How do you know she was after me?"

"C'mon, don't bullshit me."

"Fine, she was after me."

He looked at her. First time he got her to admit something. "Why?"

She shook her head. "Don't know."

"You thought somebody sent her after you. Who?"

No answer.

"And that cowboy character, Sasha and Tyreese saw… he was also after you. With blondie now, that's already a pattern. Wanna tell me about it?"

She turned her head towards him, still embracing her legs. "There's nothing to tell, I'm not even sure what you're implying it's true."

And they were back to square one. He stubbed out the cigarette and stood up abruptly. "Fuck you!"

"Excuse me?"

"You're lying. You're still lying to me. So, fuck you, Niko."

He was about to walk away, but she rushed after him and tried to stop him, pulling him back by the shoulder.

"Daryl! Wait dammit!"

He roughly brushed her off and continued, but she persisted and stumbled over a sidewalk. He caught her just in time. She tried to wiggle out of his hold, but he kept a firm grip on her shoulders.

"I ain't playing this game anymore, you tell me the truth or get out of here!"

His harsh words made an impact and her body became soft in his arms. "I can't…I don't know how…" she muttered. He realized his grip was rather strong, so he released her. She collapsed on her knees and sat on the pavement like a pile of misery. Conflicting emotions surged inside him.

"C'mon," he said after some consideration, poked her on the head and offered his hand. She grabbed it and hoisted herself up. For a prolonged moment, she stood very close to him and he didn't move at all, then she took him by the hand and led him towards the block.

"Can we enter some place?"

"Mh-mmm." He took the lead and pushed open the first door they came across. The corridor was dark and looked empty. He listened carefully for any walkers.

"There aren't any," she said.

"You see… how the hell would you know this? I don't know it and I ain't blind." Just as he finished his sentence, she pulled him towards the wall and pressed her body against his. Her face was an inch away and he felt her breath on his lips. As his hand went toward her glasses, she flinched, but she allowed him to remove them. It was dark enough. He passed his hand over her white, smooth skin, tracing the scar across her check. He got used to her eyes, he started to like them. She took his hand and led it inside her shirt. He embraced her body, his hand caressing her damaged back.

"You have more scars than I do."

"Do they bother you?" she asked insecurely.

"No, not at all. Would wanna know about them, though."

"Now it's not the time," she replied and kissed him on the mouth.

For a while they kissed and embraced each other as tightly as they could. Then he lay her down on the ground and both started to undress with haste. His stiches were burning, but at that moment he couldn't care less if it hurt him twice as much.

"You won't kick my balls again, will you?"

She giggled. "Depends."

He held her by her chin, pinning her face towards him. "Oh, yeah? Depends on what?"

Then he kissed her. She responded to his rhythm, or he to hers, he couldn't tell. It was different this time. The first time in the cellar it was pure lust, now he cared.

He was putting on his pants, glancing sideways at her. She already dressed up. Her face looked softened by a gentle smile, which persisted on her lips. He was smiling too. They sat close to each other, with only their shoulders touching, and enjoyed the silence. Two times he almost put his arm around her, and both times he changed his mind. Then she leaned her head on his shoulder and put her hand across his belly, a minimal, unobtrusive gesture, which felt to him as pleasing as the warmth of a camping fire in the cold, dark woods.

"Shit, you're bleeding!" she said suddenly, her head leaving his shoulder.

He looked down and saw a stain of blood on the t-shirt, just above the area of the stiches. It began to ache too.

"It's nothing."

"You sure? Shouldn't you go to the doc and check it out?

"No, no doc needed…it's just a bit of blood. Been worse off…many times."

He was glad when she put her head back on his shoulder.

"So you want to hear about the scars?"

"Mh-mmm."

"I got them long time ago, before the zeds, in the world with traditions very different from the ones you know. You see, my teacher…I already told you he was not an easy man….he believed that a person's spirit can be properly shaped only the hard way. It was him that gave me the first scar, the scar on my face, so that, being a woman, I won't be overly concerned with superficialities, such as good looks. Heh, as if being blind was not good enough."

She paused and he got a feeling she wanted him to say something, or at least acknowledge her little joke in order not to sound pitiful. Yet he couldn't smile nor make a silly remark at her words. "How old were you?" was all he could come up with.

"Twelve. I know it sounds awful, but it really was just a superficial wound, in physical as well as in emotional sense. It was the other scar, the one on my back, that almost killed me, and I mean that in every sense of the word."

Her breathing was not relaxed anymore. She lifted her head from his shoulder, and lowered her chin downwards, casting her eyes at the floor.

"Look…if you don't want to talk about it…it's fine. What concerns me more is what's happening now… that killer blondie was after you for a reason and she was looking specifically for you."

"No, no…you don't know that for sure." She spoke as if she needed to convince herself and not him.

"Listen to me… I found a paper in her pocket, with a written description of you. And if not to kill you then-"

"What are you saying?" she asked, turning her stare at him.

He raised his hand to stroke her hair, wanting to dispel the dread in those vague eyes, the dread his words obviously caused, but at the end he only gave her shoulder a light nudge. "Hey…don't matter anymore. You killed her, so she's out of the way. But I need to know what's this all about in case others show up. I want to be prepared better next time."

She nodded and turned away from him. "There's something I didn't tell you. Not because I wanted to lie, but because I really wasn't sure. But if what you say it's true, I can only think of one person that would go to such lengths to get me. You see, I haven't been fully honest with you about my family-"

It was at that moment that all the hell broke loose. There were shots fired, people shouting and the growling sounds increased all of a sudden. They both sprung to their feet and, him leading her by the hand, ran towards the commotion.

Thanks to all those that follow this story. As always, I'd be thrilled to read you comments! Thank you! :)