I know it's not much, but it's something. This was supposed to have been out a couple of days ago, but I was really sick and ended up having to take a trip to the emergency room. Everything is good now and I no longer feel like dying so that's always a plus! Anyway, I appreciate the comments and pm's asking me to update. I'm still here and I haven't abandoned this. The muse is slow going because we don't really have a ton to go on with these two so I'm doing the best that I can. Thanks for hanging with me! :)

...

"Someone's been through here." Daryl pointed out the prints on the ground below and then further out where the makings of a fire had once been. Stooping down low, Daryl studied the print and then moved to glance down at the spot where the fire had been. "Don't think it's been too long ago this happened."

Beside him Aaron frowned as he followed Daryl's gaze. "How do you know all this just from looking at it?"

Daryl shrugged, "Practice, I guess. I've always been more comfortable in the woods than anywhere else. It's like second nature to me."

"Can you teach me? To track like you do?"

"Nothing to teach." Daryl's reply was short and he stood up to keep walking. He didn't want to have this conversation. He had taught Beth a little about tracking and now she was gone. She had become like the sister he had never had and her death was still fresh on his mind.

"So what you really mean is that you won't teach me."

"Didn't say that."

"You didn't have to. Your tone says it all."

Daryl stopped in mid-step, whirling around and nearly running into Aaron who hadn't expected the sudden turnabout. "What the hell do you know about my tone? Don't pretend like you know me or that you understand."

Instead of Aaron backing away like most people who knew him would have, he merely stared at Daryl, his expression blank, but curious. It was unnerving to say the least. There were several minutes where they simply stared at one another, neither of them daring to look away first. The intensity made Daryl nervous, but thankfully a walker came trampling through the brush and Aaron's gaze was diverted. Daryl watched him turn and walk toward the walker, knife raised high in the air to take it down. Before he could complete the task, Daryl aimed his bow and fired a bolt straight into the offending walker's forehead.

Aaron paused, his back still turned to Daryl, knife still slightly raised and shoulders hunched. The walker crumpled to the ground in a heap of rotten flesh and still Aaron stood in the same position. Daryl started to feel a little bad about it because he knew it had been a dickhead move, but he had done it regardless. He had thought that he was starting to be okay again...even returning to his former self, but apparently he wasn't. He was lashing out at others, even ones that he truly cared about. He sighed and moved closer.

"If you wanna learn that bad, then I'll teach ya."

Aaron finally moved, sheathing his knife and looking off in the distance so that Daryl was treated to his side profile. "No, it's okay. Don't do me any favors." His voice was flat, devoid of all emotion and that bothered Daryl for reasons he didn't understand.

"I don't do favors," Daryl huffed as he moved past and grabbed his bolt from the walker's forehead.

"I'm sorry."

Daryl's jaw twitched. "You're sorry? Why the hell are you sorry? I'm the one who's been acting like an asshole all morning!"

"You're right, but apparently I pressed your buttons and for that I'm sorry."

Daryl wanted to hit something. He could feel all the emotions he had thought were suppressed rising to the surface like molten lava in his throat. It burned and he didn't like it. He didn't like the fact that he was about to lose all control in front of anyone, but especially in front of Aaron. He hated even more that Aaron was so calm about the whole thing, even apologizing when he really had nothing to be sorry for. Did anyone even apologize anymore?

He dug the tip of his nails into the flesh of his palm hard enough to draw blood, cursing at himself. Murmuring under his breath he closed his eyes and fought for control. He was tired of losing people, tired of this life and everything that went with it. Tired of being strong all the damn time when all he really wanted was to lean on someone else for once. Just once. It would be nice to not have to worry about shit like getting eaten or being attacked by others. His head started to swim and he could feel his vision blur even as his breath grew short.

"Fuck," he breathed as he bent forward, bracing himself on his knees with both hands.

"Daryl?"

He could hear Aaron's voice in the background, could feel his hand touch his shoulder and then his arm. He couldn't seem to make himself respond, to make everything stop spinning so out of control. What the fuck was wrong with him? Why couldn't he get his shit together?

He spluttered as water splashed onto his face, making him gasp out loud. Slowly he lowered himself down to the ground and blinked as Aaron's face slowly came into view. He knelt in front of Daryl with a bottle of water, his face a mask of concern.

"What happened?" Daryl asked as he leaned back against a tree trunk.

"I think you just had a panic attack," Aaron responded.

Daryl swiped a hand over his face wearily. He didn't like that at all...that loss of control.

"You're bleeding?"

"What?" Daryl squinted at Aaron. He followed Aaron's gaze and saw that he was indeed bleeding on the palm of his hand where he had apparently dug his fingernails into the skin. It wasn't a lot, nor did it hurt, but it seemed that Aaron didn't see it that way. "It's nothin'," he explained.

"Let me see it. You don't want it to get infected."

Aaron grabbed his hand before he could protest and used water from their bottles to clear some of the dirt away. Daryl could only stare at him, torn between yanking his hand back and shock. Besides Carol, no one had ever bandaged him up before or really bothered to clean his wounds. He wasn't sure how he felt about that, but he didn't pull away either. Instead, he simply watched Aaron's face, studying the other man while he made sure the dirt was washed away.

"The last thing we need is for something simple to turn into something nasty. I've seen it happen and with as much dirt as you have on you, it wouldn't surprise me if it got infected."

Daryl scoffed at his words. "Ain't that dirty," he mumbled.

Aaron simply raised an eyebrow in response, but he didn't respond. He used a portion of the inside of his jacket that wasn't covered in dirt to dry the wound before releasing Daryl's hand. Daryl felt an odd sensation come over him as soon as Aaron's touch left him, but he shook it off. He pushed himself to his feet, intending to keep trekking along, but stumbled just a bit.

"Woah! Easy..." Aaron urged as he grabbed onto Daryl's elbow in an attempt to keep him upright should he fall over.

This time Daryl did yank his arm away. He wasn't an invalid and the last thing he needed or wanted was someone treating him like he was fragile. He could take care of himself just fine, had been doing it for years in fact.

"Don't need you to hold my hand," he griped.

"Fine. I think you need to sit a minute though."

"I'm fine."

"I see."

"I'm fine," Daryl emphasized.

"You said that already."

"Yeah, well you seem to be hard of hearin' so thought I would say it again just in case."

"Are you going to be like this the whole time we're out here?"

"Are you?"

"Considering this is who I am, then most likely yes," Aaron responded.

"Then there's your answer."

Aaron sighed and Daryl led the way through the woods once more, trying to ignore the dull throbbing in his head. He knew he really should heed Aaron's advice and sit a minute, but he was stubborn...always had been. Besides, they had a lot of ground to cover and he didn't feel like wasting time when it wasn't really necessary. Especially for something as simple as a panic attack. Why the hell had he had one of those? He always thought panic attacks were something women had, not men. His brother was probably laughing in his grave right now. A panic attack. He scoffed.

"That wasn't it."

"What?" Aaron asked.

Daryl stopped in his tracks and turned to face the other man, "A panic attack...I didn't have one."

Aaron's eyebrows raised nearly to his hairline. He started to say something, but then he merely wiped a hand across his jaw. "You do know that it's okay if you did, right?"

Daryl averted his eyes, suddenly not to keen on having this conversation. He didn't know why it was so important to him that Aaron believe it wasn't a panic attack, but it just was.

"Mhm," he mumbled.

"You know what? You're probably right. It could just as easily be something else."

Daryl nodded. "We got a lot of ground to cover. We good?"

"Sure," Aaron shrugged.

Daryl turned to begin walking again, but then stopped and turned back. "First things first. If you wanna learn to track, then you gotta keep up."

...