Glenn runs back into the room with a dart board under his arm and a handful of darts. "They were in the rec room. Let's play." He starts hanging up the board and Daryl strides over, obviously up for it.

"Let's make this more interesting. You lose, you take a shot," he says, pouring whiskey into a shot glass. "Now, who thinks they can beat me?"

I stand up from the table and cross the room, "Oh, you're on." Fuck. What am I doing? I have no confidence I can beat Daryl at darts. Especially not after I've been drinking. I eye Daryl as he takes another swig of Jack. Okay, maybe I can do this. He must be at least a little tipsy at this point, right?

"You got a lotta confidence there, Red," he taunts. He picks up a dart and flings it at the board. It sticks about an inch away from the bulls eye, landing in the 16 point section. "You sure you want to do this?" I definitely shouldn't do this but his smirk and arrogant attitude are driving me insane.

Instead of answering him I just ask, "So how are we going to do this?"

He looks at me amused before answering, "We take turns throwing a dart, and we each get three darts. Add up our points and whoever has the least takes a shot."

"C'mon, Ashlyn! You can beat him!" Glenn cheers me on from the sideline.

T-Dog just laughs and says, "Good luck with that."

I set down my whiskey and stride over to where Daryl's standing. He hands me a dart and takes a step back. Thank God I'm left handed. My right shoulder's still a little sore and I don't want to make it any worse. I stand right where he stood when he threw the dart, so he's right behind me. I take a deep breath and exhale, throwing the dart.

"Shit."

Daryl bursts into laughter. I just barely made it on the board. I still manage to make 13 points though. I really don't mind taking the shot, I'm drinking anyway. I just don't want to lose, not to Daryl.

I step away, and after he finishes laughing, Daryl throws another dart, this time hitting the triple ring.

Daryl whistles, "That's another 27 points right there. Get ready to drink, girl!"

"Not tonight, Dixon," I say, acting way more confident than I am. I pick up my second dart, step back in front of the board, and throw it. The dart sticks a lot closer to the center this time, but unfortunately it lands in the 8 point section. I throw my head back in annoyance and step away again.

"You should stick to usin' your crowbar. You're a lot better with that thing than you are with darts," Daryl laughs. He throws his last dart, this time only getting 11 points. Not that it matters, his total is still much higher than mine. "54 points, booyah!" Daryl yells, taking a victory swig of whiskey.

I can't help but laugh. He's drinking so much, a shot wouldn't even matter to him. He raises an eyebrow at me, but I just walk over to throw my last dart.

"Ashlyn Turner, getting ready for the throw," Glenn commentates from a table. "She's 33 points down, but she's still got a chance to catch up. Just look at that concentration on her face."

Trying not to laugh at Glenn, I do my best to focus on the board, but it just ends up hurting my head. Ugh, I hate being a light weight. I sigh and throw the dart as hard as I can.

"Holy shit!" Glenn yells. I blink at the board, barely believing what I'm seeing. My dart's stuck in the single bull, the green ring around the bullseye. "You were so close!"

"Damn, Red!" Daryl walks over to the board, "that was a hell of a shot!"

"Too bad that's only 25 points. Daryl still wins," T-Dog says.

"That's right," Daryl gloats, bringing me the shot. "Drink up!"

"Oh, darn," I fake pout for a second. "Well if I have to." I take the shot, downing it in one gulp. It burns my throat on the way down but I can feel it warming up my body, bringing heat to my cheeks.

I catch Daryl staring at me, but as soon as I look at him, he turns away. "Anyone else think they can beat me?" Daryl hollers, "Or are y'all too chicken?"

Glenn stands up and points at Daryl, "Prepare to be defeated, Daryl." He turns to me, "Don't worry Ashlyn, I'll avenge you." He stumbles over to throw a dart. Staring at the dart board with complete focus, he flings the dart, only to hit the wall.

Everyone—except Glenn—bursts out laughing.

"Nice shot, little man," Daryl mocks, "try aiming for the board next time." With just a quick glance at the board, he throws a dart, hitting just outside the single bull.

The rest of the game goes like that. Daryl hitting around the center and Glenn missing the board two out of three tries. Glenn takes his shot in defeat and we convince T-Dog to play a round. He almost beats Daryl, too, but in the end, the redneck wins again.

The night goes on, everyone laughing and drinking, not thinking about the world outside the CDC. We all accept Daryl as darts champion of Atlanta, but we keep playing anyway. I beat Glenn at a round, "betraying his friendship"—according to him at least. Daryl and I keep throwing darts at the board, joking with each other, not paying attention to points. After a while, Glenn passes out on a table, much to our amusement. I can't remember a time I've had this much fun, not caring what people think, not worrying about work I have to get done. I used to go to dinner parties with Mike all the time, but it was different. Appearances mattered too much for me to ever relax and everything just felt fake to me. This is different. There's no pressure to play the role of the perfect girlfriend, no boring stories I have to pretend to be interested in.

Eventually, T-Dog excuses himself for the night, leaving just me, Daryl, and an unconscious Glenn in the cafeteria. With the room suddenly quiet and my eyelids getting heavy, I'm about to call it a night too when I remember the reason I came here in the first place. I was having so much fun, thinking about this now is like suddenly being dosed with cold water. I walk over to the bar and grab Daryl's bandana. I sigh, wondering if it's really necessary that I do this. I feel like we're on good terms now. I even realize I've completely forgiven him for almost killing Jim.

No, this is important. I don't want any bad feelings between us and I want him to know I'm grateful for everything he's done for me. Besides, I thought it'd be easier with a few drinks in me, so it's better to get it done now.

DARYL

T-Dog's gone and that light weight pussy's passed out on a table, so it's just me and Red now. I keep throwin' darts at the board but I'm listening to her. Her footsteps echo in the room and I can tell she's goin' to the counter with all the booze. Damn, she's not getting' another drink, is she? She hasn't had that much but I can tell it's affecting her. Her cheeks went all red, just like her hair, and she's walkin' unsteady, like she's on a boat. I remember how she looked when she came in, all washed up nice in that little dress. I close my eyes and rub my temples. Fuck that dress, man. What's she thinking? A room full of lonely guys drinkin' booze and she's gonna come in here looking like that? It didn't look racy or nothin, not on purpose at least. It hugs her body just right though—

I shake my head and throw another dart, just making it on the board. I keep starin' ahead, trying to focus on the target but it keeps movin'. I try blinking at it but everytime I close my eyes I see her pullin' her top off in her truck. I throw another dart but just hit the wall, chippin' the paint.

"Jesus Fucking Christ," I mumble. I know she's over at the drinks but I don't hear her pouring nothin'. Instead I hear her sigh and then walk over towards me.

"Hey," she says in a soft voice, "Daryl?"

Still throwing darts, I don't turn around, just grunt at her, "What?"

"Here… I washed the blood out."

I glance over my shoulder to see what she's talking about and I see her holding out my bandana that I gave to her earlier. I lower the dart and turn to face her. "Oh, uh, yeah." I grab it out of her hand and stuff it in my back pocket.

"I wanted to thank you, properly, for all the times you helped me." I'm about to tell her off again, that she needs to stop thinking I'm paying attention to her more than the others, but she keeps goin', "I don't think you're giving me special treatment or anything, I think you're just the kind of guy that looks out for people. So, thanks."

What's she talking about now? Shit. I rub the back of my head, uncomfortable for some reason. She's just standin' there staring at me so I turn back around. "Fuck, you don't have to get all weird about it," I mutter before nailing another dart at the board. "Shootin' dead people in the head doesn't make me no saint."

"I also wanted to apologize." She's talkin' so quiet, I can barely hear her. I do though, and spin around, thinking I must've heard her wrong. Apologize? This girl must be completely fuckin' wasted if she's apologizing to me.

"What're you talkin' about?" I ask, still in shock.

"For yelling at you…" She's apologizing for that? Fuck, I tried killing Jim and she's apologizing for getting mad about it? She must think I don't remember what she's talking about cause she keeps going, "When we were at the camp, I was mad about what happened with Jim… that time you caught me changing and I blew up at you…" I remember it again, her shirt going up over her head and her body…

I feel the heat in my cheeks again and realize I'm still just staring at her, all of her. I turn back around, trying to focus on the board, and throw another dart. It hits the wall and falls down.

"I tried putting an axe in your brother-in-law's head," I grumble.

"I don't blame you for that," she sighs, "sometimes I think that would've been better." Again, she surprises me. I face her again, but now she's further away, sitting on a table, deep in thought. After a moment she continues, "He could've easily turned and bit someone else. He also wouldn't of suffered for so long. He looked like he was in so much pain the entire time. I was thinking selfishly, wanting more time with him." She looks up at me, with a broken smile, "Sorry, that was a depressing thing to say."

This girl must be fuckin' stupid if she believes that shit. I go back to darts and say what's on my mind, "That night at the camp, when the walkers attacked and you passed out. Jim was talkin' about you. Sayin' you warned them about all this shit and were comin' up to Atlanta to help him and your sister. That doesn't sound selfish to me. Hell, Merle wouldn't of tried so hard to find me. If we hadn't already been in the same spot at the same time, I probably never would've seen him after the world went to shit." I think about it for a moment, wondering if that's true. "He probably would've been off, gettin' stoned and fuckin' around with girls, not out lookin' for me."

She's quiet for a long time after that. I can feel her eyes on my back. I bet she's trying to come up with something nice to say. That's what people always do, but I don't need it. She's never even met Merle, no point trying to defend him.

I hear her moving around and then she says, "Stop being so nice to me. I don't need it." Shit, it's like she read my mind. I look back at her. Now she's laying out on the table, her legs dangling over the side and her hands over her face. She looks exhausted. "Thanks though."

Suddenly, Glenn starts snoring loudly and Red sits up to look at him. He snores again and this time she throws her head back, her laugh ringing throughout the room. Her hair was so neat and pulled back when she came out here, but it's like every time she laughed, throwing her head back, more hair escaped. When she stops laughing this time though, she grabs her head and moans. "Was that whiskey pure alcohol? Fucking hell."

She looks over at me, through her bangs, and slides off the table. "I think it's time I go to bed. But first," she glances at Glenn, "maybe we should help him?"

I put down the darts and walk over to Glenn. "He's got spirit, I'll give him that. If only he had the stomach for it." I throw one of his arms over my shoulder and pull him up, putting all of his weight on me.

"I'll get the other arm," Red says, grabbing for his other wrist.

"Nuh-uh," I grunt. "You're not puttin' any weight on that fucked up shoulder of yours."

She stares at me in shock. "You knew?"

"Do I look like a dumbass? Just help me get the doors. Where's he sleeping anyway?"

Red leads me down the hall as I drag China Man along. We drop him off in his room and Red throws a blanket over him. I go find a bathroom and grab a small trash bin, in case he wakes up and pukes. When I get back into the room though, Red's sitting on the bed, her head against the wall, passed out.

"Am I the only one that can handle their booze around here?" I ask the room of unconscious people. Apparently I am.

Red's got her head tilted to the side, her hair fallin' in her face. One hand's in her lap and the other's in Glenn's hair, like she passed out while she was runnin' her fingers through it. Her cheeks are still red and her lips are parted, just like when she passed out last time, back at camp. It's harder than usual to look away, probably on account of all the whiskey I've had. She just looks so vulnerable. Didn't her parents teach her anything about watching out for herself? For fuck's sake. If it was Merle here, instead of me, he would – fuck, I don't want to think about that. I can practically here Merle now. "C'mon baby brotha, you ain't gonna tap that? What, don't like girls? Be a fuckin' man!"

"Ugh, shut up," I mumble, closing my eyes and rubbing my head. I'm too drunk for this shit. But what do I do? I can't just leave her here. "Red. Red, wake up," I whisper. "Red." She doesn't move, except for the steady rise and fall of her chest. Guess it can't be helped. I slip my arm under her legs, trying not to think about how soft they are, and wrap my other arm around her torso. She's every bit as light as I remember her being.

I carry her out of Glenn's room and into the hall. Wait. Where's her damn room? I stumble around for a bit, peaking into doors that aren't closed. I make it to the room at the very end and tap the door open with my foot. I let out a sigh of relief when I see her bag in it and walk in. Red moves around a bit, curling her body into my chest, putting her head into the crook of my arm. I set her down gently onto the couch, keeping her off her bad shoulder. I notice a picture on the table and pick it up. It's wrinkled like it was folded at some point, but I can still tell what it is. There's five people on a boat, I recognize two of them as Red and Jim. I figure the blonde woman is her sister and the two little boys must be her nephews. This is the family she lost, huh?

Red rolls over, her hair falling out of her bun and her dress strap slipping off her shoulder. I turn to leave, thinking I shouldn't be in here any longer.

"Mmmh," I hear from behind me. "Daryl?" Her voice is soft but confused. I turn around and see her, propping herself up on her elbow and rubbing her eyes. "Where are you going?" Her eyelids flutter as she tries to open them, but I can tell she's still half asleep.

"Just go back to sleep," I say, walking out the door.

This was a pretty short chapter but I was really nervous writing it since none of it happened in the show. Next chapter will fall back into the show's plotline but there will be a lot of Ashlyn's past revealed too. I'm thinking of at some point doing a bonus chapter that tells the story of Melanie's life, showing what her and ashlyn's childhood was like, how Mel met Jim, and how she died. Let me know if that's something you'd want to read!

Hunter Quigley and Icec: thanks for the encouragement to deviate from the plot, hope I didn't disappoint!

Tash: hope you enjoyed the daryl pov stuff, he definitely noticed her in that dress lol

Thanks to everyone else that followed and reviewed, VampWolf92, HermioneandMarcus, Jag, Lilly72, and hayleyjune13