Disclaimer: I wish! Ha

Notes: Another short chapter, might be the shortest one yet: but the next section is all Daryl's POV and it get's pretty wacky jumping back and forth mid-chapter with different view points. Hoping to get next bit up by late tonight, but here's this little bit for now at least! Big Thanks to all the readers and reviewers! You guys are great!

Chapter Twenty-Two

(Fin's POV)

This is not good.

Everything hurts.

It's such an understatement I almost burst with laughter.

I can only imagine how much that would hurt though…

I've heard that phrase so many times in my life.

Everything hurts.

Hell I've used it myself more times than I can remember.

I know I used it every summer, abundantly. Remember distinctly uttering it collapsed on the rug or sofa scratched and bruised from head to toe after camping in the mountains with Joe and Eric, always so desperate to prove to them I could be 'one of the boys' even half their size.

And after running that stupid 10k with Elaina our Junior year at USC…without training for it, and drinking the night before. I'd figured, I was in good shape: how hard could it be? Until I was puking my guts up on the side of the road, every muscle I didn't know I had shaking in agony.

I didn't run again 'til after everything went wrong…

This time, I've got it figured out:

Everything

Hurts

I didn't hurt like this the last time.

There was the obvious pain; I expected that, burned for days with it. But not this bone deep ache that steals my breath. Every joint feels stuffed with sandpaper, grinding setting my teeth on edge with pain as I move. My legs shake underneath me, sheer willpower keeping me upright, off the floor.

My entire body wants nothing more than to collapse to the ground, curl into the back of the closet, hide. The strong urge to do just that beats at me. I want to cover my face, bury my head in my hands, or clap them over my ears maybe; I can block out the sound of my own screams echoing off the walls. I still hear them in my mind…A large part of me wants to just collapse, scream and sob until I puke.

I don't do any of those things though. I Can't. It's never been an option.

I won't let myself consider it one now.

I watch Kyle's face. The blood seeping up through his fingers still clamped in desperation around his ruined throat. It won't save him. Nothing will save him now.

I should feel something about that, anything.

I come up empty.

I can feel his eyes on me… can feel all their eyes on me.

I know what he's waiting for:

Tears

Screaming

Some kind of breakdown

I'm as surprised as he is.

It's in here somewhere, not far beneath the surface; but I know if I let it out I might never get the lid closed on it again…certainly not tonight at least. So I just stand here watching Kyle die. Miles to go before I sleep…

Daryl stands there watching me, doesn't speak. Just waits; every muscle tense balanced on his toes ready to spring forward and grab me again at a moment's notice.

I never thought I'd see him alive again; much less find him trying to rescue me. I just watched him beat his knuckles raw against Eli's face screaming like a mad man, nearly lost it when his arm wrapped around me and I could hear his heartbeat against my own ragged breathing…but I can't bring myself to look him in the eye.

I'm not that strong.

A shotgun racks in the hallway just beyond the door. The other two men, Glenn and Tyreese; move away from the door, everyone's attention is on the door except mine.

My eyes are busy memorizing the pattern of blood on the bedspread; wondering how much of it is mine. I'm thinking more than is probably healthy.

People are shouting at each other in the room, orders to drop weapons thrown back and forth in terse voices. But it's all white noise. I did it again. I can feel it under the tension in the air…heavy like ozone, the prickle under my skin.

The hairs on my neck standing on end, just like last time; only back then I didn't know what I was doing…didn't even know it was possible…what am I?

"They're coming."

"What?" He's staring at me again. I don't answer. Walk across the room instead to stare out the window into the darkness outside. It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the moonlight, before I can make them out.

The field beside the house is crawling, rolling…an endless sea of dead.

I understand now.

The only monster left in the room is me.