DISCLAIMER: I do not own any part of The Walking Dead. This is for entertainment purposes only.

A/N: Wow, it's hard to believe this is chapter 21 already. Crazy! This chapter might be a bit crazy too, just as a forewarning. "And here… we… go!"

Coming Clean.

"My sister is dead because of you—she's dead!" Skyler stood in front of Daryl, her face contorted with rage. Her fists were clenched down at her sides as her glare was locked onto him, unforgiving.

Daryl felt like he was paralyzed. He couldn't force himself to speak, he couldn't force himself to even move. Yet here they stood in the middle of a small clearing surrounded by nothing but the woods. There was no one else around and Skyler had him dead center.

When Daryl refocused his stare on her, he noticed she was reaching behind her back. He watched her as she pulled a pistol from her waistband and ever so carefully loaded the gun. With a steady hand, she rested her finger against the trigger and had it aimed right for his chest.

"This is all your fault," she growled. "Elena's death. And Merle. You left your own brother behind for dead."

Daryl slowly raised his arms up to show that he wasn't a threat, that he would never hurt her. But what difference did it make now? She didn't look like she was about to back down anytime soon. She was right, after all. He should have never left Elena alone—he should have been there to protect her. And he should have never left Merle. Hell, he should have gone into Atlanta instead of Merle and none of this would have happened. He should have gone back for Elena even though he knew she was bit. He should have had the decency to at least have gone back to put her to rest. But he couldn't even imagine putting a bullet in her head. There was no way.

Skyler pulled the trigger and Daryl flinched, ducking down and just barely avoiding the bullet as it flew passed. But a figure from behind him caught his eye as he slowly turned to look back.

"Elena—Merle—" Daryl stared back at them. They were standing right there in front of him, completely unharmed—just like he remembered them. He felt a sort of pressure in his chest making it harder for him to breathe. He swore he wouldn't allow himself to break down. But this didn't seem real.

They're dead because of you.

Daryl shook his head and closed his eyes, dropping to his knees.

"You did this to them, Daryl. Get a good hard look." Skyler's voice brought Daryl's attention back to Merle and Elena as he reopened his eyes. But he immediately wished he hadn't.

"No… No…" Daryl fell back and began to push himself away from them. They were both walkers. Elena's shoulder had been torn open and drenched with blood. Her eyes were a pale cloudy blue that seemed to pierce right through him. And Merle. Merle's right hand was missing, cut clean off as blood still oozed from the amputation. His eyes were now the same as Elena's, cold and lifeless.

Daryl forced himself back to his feet and tore his stare away from them, biting down hard on his lip. He looked back at Skyler and that's when he realized she had lowered the pistol. Not only that, but walkers were beginning to flood all around them. They were coming in from every angle, suffocating and leaving Daryl nowhere to back up to for safety. He quickly reached for the strap to his crossbow only to realize he didn't have it. It wasn't on his back or hanging from his shoulder, it was just completely gone. Then he reached blindly for his knife and came up empty handed.

"Skyler!—" Daryl bolted for her just as a walker grabbed her by the arm and tore through her skin. She didn't move a muscle. She just stood there and let the walkers tear through her.

Daryl backed away from her feeling extremely nauseated. He couldn't do anything. He couldn't save her. He let Elena and Merle die. This was all his fault.

He came to an abrupt stop once he realized he had backed straight into another figure. But the clawing hands and putrid breath was enough to tell him that it was a walker. He panicked as he tried to fight his way out of the walker's grasp, only to feel more dead hands grabbing him and pulling him back. He felt teeth sink into his right bicep just as he forced himself free. He managed to shove the walker to the ground and before he knew it, he had it pinned down by its arm with his right arm raised above his head. When did he get his knife back?...

Daryl blinked a few times as he could feel the sweat lining his face now. His vision came back into focus and it took him a moment before he recognized that the apparent walker that was once trapped under his grip was now Skyler. She looked terrified as she stared up at him, her gaze switching back and forth between him and the knife he had hovering in the air.

Holy fuck—it was a dream.

Daryl released his hold on Skyler's arm and dropped the knife on the ground by his side, moving to get off of her. She must have been trying to wake him up. She must have seen that he was having a nightmare and all she wanted to do was try and help. Yet here he was, about to drive a knife through her fucking head with her pinned down.

"Christ—" Daryl let out a shaky breath and quickly exited the tent for fresh air. He felt sick to his stomach. What if he would have kept going? He was mere inches from her head—mere moments from killing her. All because of a fucking dream.

"Daryl—what the hell was that? Daryl, answer me!"

Daryl forced himself to stop and turn to face Skyler. But all he could see was his knife in her hands, instantly creating that pressure back in his chest as his breathing picked up. He took a few steps back and put his arms up as if to surrender, "I—I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean to. I'm sorry…"

Skyler was watching his reaction with a confused look on her face. She slowly bent down to place the knife on the ground and came back up empty handed. Daryl slowly put his arms back down at his sides afterward. "…What's wrong?" Her voice was gentler than it was previously.

Daryl shook his head, "Nothing. Nothing…"

"You're shaking. Something's wrong. Please just talk to me. I'm not mad," Skyler pleaded.

Daryl forced a scoff, "I almost killed you and you're gonna tell me you're not mad?"

"I'm not mad, Daryl. You scared me, but I'm not mad." Skyler was staring at him, still seeming to watch his every move. "Please, just talk to me. What's going on?"

Daryl remained silent as he broke the stare, feeling that much more uncomfortable with Skyler's eyes looming at him. Why in the world did he have to have that dream? Or better yet, why couldn't he have just woke up on his own so that this wouldn't have happened? Now Skyler wasn't going to leave him alone. He felt horrible enough as it was.

"Does it have something to do with… with the scars?" Skyler's voice seemed to lower to almost a whisper but her words snapped his attention right back to her.

"What?" Daryl stared back at her now. Not only did he just about kill her but now she was aware of his scars? Boy did this day just keep getting better and better.

"I… walked in on you changing your shirt a few days ago…" Skyler confessed. She lowered her head appearing to feel guilty but whatever she was feeling, it was nothing in comparison.

Daryl really didn't want to lash out at her again so he did the only other thing he could. He turned his back to her and started to walk away. Now all he could think was that he was glad Leah wasn't there to see all of this. Lucky for him, Leah slept in the RV to keep Carl company while the kid didn't want to leave his dad's side.

"I'm sorry—just talk to me! Maybe I can help?" Skyler was following after him, he could hear her footsteps as her voice became nearer.

Daryl stopped abruptly and turned on his heels, letting the anger take over. "No. No, you can't help. Just… Just fucking drop it." He was glad his voice held up as he was able to still sound bitter, masking everything else. That was all he had left.

Leah sat at the table in the RV swinging her legs carelessly. She had woken up not too long ago and realized that she was alone. She figured Carl was either with his mom or they were both with Rick in the back of the RV. The curtain was drawn though and she couldn't hear any voices right off hand.

They traveled a bit of a distance along the road until the Hyundai ran out of gas. So they had to pull over and call it a night, setting up camp. Leah wanted to stay with Carl and make sure he was doing okay. He had no idea that his dad got shot just like when Leah witnessed Daryl returning injured. She knew how scared she felt when it happened to Daryl so she could only imagine Carl felt just as bad now.

Leah perked up as she heard a shuffling of feet and noticed it was Carl. "Hey, how is everything?"

Carl shrugged, "He's doing okay. I guess."

"And how are you doing?" Leah watched him as he slunk down into the bench seat across from her. She could tell he was depressed.

"I just can't believe Shane would have done that. Shane would never hurt my dad," Carl blurted. He rested his elbows on the table and plopped his head down on his hands, sighing.

"I'm sorry…" Leah mumbled. She figured now wasn't the time to rub it in his face and let him know how much she despised Shane. She felt bad because Carl truly did like him. And underneath it all, Leah figured she would have liked Shane too—if he hadn't attacked Daryl.

"It's okay. Nothing you can do about it," Carl muttered, glancing over towards the window.

"I still feel bad," she admitted. "I'm gonna go outside and get some fresh air. You should come too." Leah got to her feet and waited for Carl to follow but he stayed put.

"You go ahead. I'm just gonna stay with my mom and dad."

Carl's words stung a bit and Leah wasn't entirely sure why. Maybe because she didn't have her mom and dad. She never really did have her dad. Or maybe it was because she was really hoping Carl would come with her. Either way, she didn't want the gloominess to become contagious so she figured that she'd seek out Sophia if nothing else.

Everyone seemed to be a mess after everything that happened. Beth and Amy seemed to be the most upset after losing Andrea, Jimmy, and Patricia. By what she could tell, Hershel seemed okay but she hadn't seen him much since he was usually by Rick's side to make sure he was okay. Maggie stayed close to Glenn as he provided her with all the comfort that he could. Amy stayed close to Lucas.

There was small talk about going back to try and find Andrea again but it was shot down, declared unsafe. The plan was to wait it out a little while longer and see if Andrea made an appearance. If she didn't, then they'd have to move on. Leah was still a little mad over the fact that she was the one who shot Daryl, never having exchanged any words with her since to give her peace of mind. But she didn't think it was necessarily right to leave her behind if there was a chance she could still be alive out there. She felt a kind of sadness for Amy for losing her sister.

Leah sat with Carol and Sophia for most of the day after staying with Carl. Daryl seemed to keep himself busy and she didn't want to implode on him. With Rick being injured, she could see Glenn and Daryl were kind of stepping up to take his place. They were planning a couple runs to seek out some gas to siphon for the vehicles and some supplies. There was talk about trying to find the next place to hole up too.

Leah could hear Daryl say something about going out and combing through the woods to look for Andrea, saying that he'd be up for the task. Andrew volunteered to go with him but Daryl shot him down. With Glenn and T-Dog leaving, they needed everyone else to stay put and protect the camp if walkers were to come through.

Her heart sank as she saw him turn to walk away from the camp. He usually told her his plans and said he'd be back, that he'd be okay and he wouldn't be gone that long. Maybe she was just being a bit of a baby about it. She was old enough now to realize Daryl didn't always need to come to her about his plans. She even saw Skyler try to stop him, calling him by his name, and he gave her the cold shoulder. Leah wasn't sure what to really think.

Once Daryl returned back to the makeshift camp, no sightings of Andrea, he decided to go check on Rick. As he climbed the few stairs up into the RV, he realized he was still hell-bent on avoiding Skyler. He still felt guilty and ashamed. How could he explain everything going through his mind to her? She'd think he was a nutcase. Or she would try to kill him if he told her everything.

Daryl lightly rapped his knuckle on the wall before the curtain and was greeted by Hershel's voice to enter. He pulled back the curtain and took a couple steps forward as he took in Lori, Carl, and Hershel's presence surrounding Rick, who was still laid up on the bed. "Just wanted to see how you were doin'."

Rick forced a small smile, "I was actually hoping you'd pop in here. I need a word with you. Uh, if you don't mind…"

Daryl shook his head and the others took that as a hint to give them some space. Lori got back on her feet as she patted her husband's arm and wiped her face. She gave Daryl a weak smile in passing as she led Carl out with her hand on his shoulder. Hershel followed after them.

Daryl shuffled over to about where Hershel was perched by the window by Rick's side. "Ya know, Glenn and I found Randall. He turned without being bit. Shane snapped his neck."

Rick let out a sigh. "That's partly what I wanted to talk to you about." He shifted a bit, trying to sit up some more as he winced in pain. "Something Jenner told me at the CDC." He paused as he looked down and Daryl wished he would just spit it out already. "…We're all infected."

Daryl blinked, confused. "What?" His mind reeled, "You're telling me that we're all gonna be one of those things when we die?" He remembered Merle saying something along the lines that if you got bit, you turned. But already having the so-called infection coursing through each and every one of them?

"That's my understanding," Rick nodded.

"And you didn't think to let anyone know until now?" Daryl narrowed his eyes.

"Now hear me out—" Rick raised his hands in the air to try and settle him back down. "There just wasn't the right time. I couldn't go off and tell everyone what Jenner said without fully knowing whether it was true or not. I couldn't risk it if it was all just a lie. But what you're telling me about Randall—it confirms it, doesn't it?"

Daryl gave it some thought and nodded, "Okay, yeah. Sure. Makes sense…" He chewed on the side of his mouth and couldn't help but wonder if there was anything else Rick was holding back about the CDC. But silence filled the air for just that moment leaving Daryl to ponder and Rick to stare at the wall ahead of him, seeming to be lost in thought himself.

"I know Shane better than anyone—and I realize how ridiculous that sounds coming from the man who got shot by him—but I know he's still out there. He can hold his own and… I'm worried he's going to come back. He's not all there in the head, ya know? Things were never like this before…" Rick slowly shook his head in disbelief.

"I could definitely tell he wasn't all there, if you're lookin' for a second opinion," Daryl crossed his arms.

Rick rubbed his face, sighing with exhaustion. His voice was quiet as he spoke, "Lori's pregnant. And all I can think about is that it's Shane's."

Daryl was a little shocked to hear of Lori being pregnant, but Rick's words were what shocked him the most. For one, Rick seemed to be confiding in him, like he had taken sane Shane's place. He wasn't sure what to really think about all of it. He felt sorry for Rick but it was all beginning to make sense. Shane lost it because he lost everything. The man needed power and he lost it—he lost his leadership with Rick's arrival, he lost Lori and Carl, people were looking to Rick for answers instead of him, and Rick was looking to Daryl more than him towards the end—what Shane referred to as 'Rick's wingman'. That was enough to make a man like Shane crumble.

"Don't get so worked up about it. Shane ain't gonna show his face again, and even if he somehow does, ain't nothin' gonna happen. You have Lori and Carl. And… I mean, are you even sure that… uh?" Daryl scratched the back of his neck.

"There's no guarantee that the baby is Shane's, no…" Rick shook his head.

"Then I wouldn't worry about it," Daryl reassured him. "It's your family regardless." Once Rick seemed like he had said all he was going to say, Daryl leaned forward and back onto his feet. Just as his hand landed on the curtain, Rick stopped him.

"Hey, Daryl?"

Daryl turned back to look at him, "Yeah?"

"Thank you."

Daryl nodded and headed for the door. Once he stepped outside, he found Carl sitting on the pavement next to the front tire. The kid jumped to his feet at the sight of Daryl. And without a warning, Carl hugged him.

"My dad told me everything you did. How you saved him. And you found me, Leah, and Sophia," Carl let go of him and smiled. "I just wanted to say thanks."

Daryl ruffled his hair in response as he wasn't sure what to say. Carl did seem like a pretty decent kid after all. He watched as he entered back into the RV and climbed the steps, shutting the door behind him. Lori was talking with Hershel a little ways away but they had started back towards the RV at the sight of Daryl as well.

"If anything changes, let me know," Hershel veered off towards the others.

Lori locked eyes with Daryl as a small laugh that sounded much like a sob escaped her. She bit her lip as she shook her head and wrapped her arms around him now. Even though she was as frail as could be, her tiny arms squeezed him tight as her head rested against his chest for a short moment. Daryl didn't know what to do, feeling awkward. Was everyone just this touchy-feely or was it just the Grimes?

Lori took her arms back and quickly gave him a peck on the cheek, forcing a smile. "I can't thank you enough for everything you've done. For saving Rick's life, and Carl's—"

"Wasn't a big deal," Daryl shrugged.

"It was to me. And to both of them. We're all grateful and I just wanted you to know that. So, thank you." Lori bowed her head as she brushed passed him and entered the RV.

Maybe it was just the Grimes.

Like I said, a bit crazy. But! I added in a little Rickyl moment. Sorry, but they're my favorite little OTP. Or BROTP. Bromance. You get it.