After what felt like an eternity, I gulped some air and fell forward as my muscles gave up. I was grabbed by a pair of strong hands, which held me steadily against Daryl's chest in a surprisingly tight embrace and I hid my face in the crook of his neck. I grabbed his shirt and after a couple of deep breaths, I started muttering frantically against his skin, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm s-"

My mumbling was cut short, as a hand gripped my chin tightly, tilting my head up and warm lips fell on mine before I could consider what was happening. I stared at Daryl's closed eyes for a moment, feeling incredibly hot all over my body, and I shut mine as well, savoring the feeling of his stumble scratching my cheeks and his lips moving slowly over mine. The kiss was more like a brush, but it was more than enough to make me feel dizzy. I purred into his lips involuntarily, feeling hot shivers running down my spine as his warm body pressed gently against mine. I grabbed a handful of Daryl's shirt forcefully, knowing very well it was the only thing holding me upright at that moment. His hands moved from my arms to the small of my back and then to my hips, steadying me as I swayed unintentionally, though the very touch of his hands grazing over my skin got me even more dizzy.

He pushed me closer, and I shuffled towards him obediently, feeling his solid form against my body. He tasted heavenly, like nothing I have ever tried, but he quickly moved to the top of my list of favorite flavors, as I returned his kiss fervently.

His mouth grew more insistent, and he flicked his tongue over my lips in a silent request. I gasped and opened my mouth eagerly, and it seemed to startle Daryl or snap him back to reality, as he let go of me, breathing heavily and scrambling a couple of inches back. He stared at me with his eyes wide open, licking his lips and muttered weakly, "Sorry, I shouldn' have-"

I wanted to kiss him again, leaning towards him as if I was being pulled by a huge magnet, but he was faster, grabbing my arms and holding me in front of him at a safe distance. My first instinct was to struggle against his grip, but a sudden feeling of humiliation hit me, and when he let go of me slowly, his arms hovering up as if he was ready to stop me again, I sat back on my heels, staring at the ground intently. Daryl remained silent for a moment and started again, his voice a bit shaky, "I'm really sorry Victoria, I shouldn' have done that."

"Why?" Was all I could manage through my clenched throat, as I let my eyes bore into one point somewhere on the ground in front of Daryl. My cheeks were incredibly hot, and I felt as if I might start crying any second now, humiliating myself even further. I clenched my hands into fists, digging my fingernails into the soft flesh, as if it could stop the tears.

"Yer upset and I-'', he stopped for a moment, as if looking for words, "I took advantage."

I chuckled humorlessly, still feeling him on my lips. I had to fight the urge to touch them with my fingers and I mumbled, "No, you didn't."

Daryl remained silent. The quiet grumble low in his throat told me he wanted to object, but refrained from it. Instead, he took a deep breath and asked slowly, "Y'okay?"

I nodded, wiping my wet cheeks with the back of my hand in a hasty movement. I was relieved it was only the old tears, back from when we found Dale. I've had about as much humiliation as I could carry for one evening, "Yeah. Sorry about that."

"'S fine." Daryl murmured, seemingly uncomfortable. I bit my cheek from inside and fixed my gaze on the ground again, reminding myself he didn't even want to kiss me, and he said it quite openly. I tried to take a deep breath, but it was something between a sob and a groan, leaving me breathless nonetheless.

"Sorry I came here," I whispered, trying to crouch. Just then I noticed my négligée, and I almost laughed hysterically, trying to cover myself with my hands, but to no avail. Could it get any more humiliating?

Daryl must have noticed the very same thing, as his eyes darkened visibly and wandered around my frame with an intensity I found almost unbearable. He gripped his hands on his thighs, as he took a shaky breath, and I had to dart my gaze from the view, or I couldn't be held accountable for my actions. Hot and bothered, and most importantly, humiliated beyond my imagination, I muttered, "I'm sorry. About everything."

With that, I started crawling backwards, trying to stay as covered as possible in given circumstances. At the same moment, Daryl moved, as if he snapped out of some sort of shock and fixed his gaze back on my face and grumbled, "Where do ya' think yer goin'?"

"Back to the farm," I whispered, expertly avoiding Daryl's eyes, which wasn't really that hard, since I could barely force myself to look up from the ground. I slowed down a bit in my grand escape, as every ounce of my being begged me not to go, and I found it hard to proceed with my movements. I bit my lower lip and before I could think about it, I started hastily, boundless hope all too clear in my voice, "Do you think I could-"

Stay with you even if you're not interested in me? Stay for the night if I promise to keep my hands to myself? What exactly did I want to say?

I stopped short, shyness, the very last bits of pride I had, and a feeling of unreality taking over, as I swallowed and muttered, "Just forget it. I'll go back now."

Before he could react, I crawled the remaining distance to the entrance and left the tent on all fours, suddenly realizing I'm not wearing any shoes as well, my bare feet stomping on the wet, cold grass. Mumbling curses, I managed to take two steps away from the tent, when Daryl appeared in front of me, blocking my way, "Do I think ya' could what?"

"Just forget it, it doesn't matter," I mumbled, trying to move past him, but he grabbed my wrist. I looked down at our hands, and he immediately let go of me as if my skin was leaving bruises on his. I snorted bemusedly and brushed past him, but yet again, Daryl jumped in my way, this time refraining from the touch.

"Tell me," he murmured demandingly, and I half-smiled bitterly, hugging myself as a cold wind blew over us and a shiver ran down my spine. Before I knew it, he shrugged out of his vest and handed it to me, looking away in an almost shy manner.

"Why does it matter?" I asked, ignoring the piece of cloth pointedly. Daryl growled angrily and took a step closer to me, waving the vest lightly, as if he wanted to threaten me to put it on. I took a cautious step back, leaning a bit to create some more of the much-needed space between him and my traitorous body before saying, "Daryl, you just literally told me you're not interested in me. It's safe to say it doesn't matter the slightest bit what I was about to say."

"That's not what I've said,'' he murmured, biting his lower lip, and if I hadn't seen him backing away from me with something close to disgust on his face, I would say he was sheepish now. He waved the vest again helplessly, "Put it on, so we can talk without'cha freezin' to death."

When I didn't make a move to grab it, he growled lowly, almost warningly, "Princess."

I looked at him, tears threatening to fill my eyes again, and I felt my damn lips trembling, which angered me even more. I almost shook my head to stay focused, and I spat without much thought, "Don't call me that."

"Why?" the question fell from his lips and he seemed to be as surprised as me when he heard it. He shifted uncomfortably, pursing his lips, and I sighed, feeling defeated, lonely, angry and sad, all of that at once.

"Because I don't want you to," I almost whispered, desperately trying to stop the tears from rolling. Yet again I found myself in this vulnerable state, all thanks to my endless stupidity. I hugged myself, taking another step back, which brought me closer to the tent, but further from Daryl, and it had to do at that moment.

"Ma apologies. I didn' know I am unworthy of the nickname I gave ya'," he said angrily, and I cringed at the tone of his voice.

"That's not what I meant," I murmured, hugging myself even tighter, as I added grumpily, "You have a tendency to jump to conclusions. It's just- You calling me princess makes me-" I swallowed, staring intently at the ground, as a faint blush creeped up my features, and I was more than grateful for the darkness of the night, "I just can't hear that right now."

A short silence fell on us and I regretted saying what I did almost instantly. Even though my sentence was enigmatic, and it didn't exactly explain what I meant, I could see Daryl's Adam apple moving up and down, as if he understood all too well. He took a moment to collect himself, and he admitted quietly, "Guess I jump to conclusions sometimes." His voice sounded strained, forced even, and I couldn't help but wonder if my words had shaken him that much, as I moved my gaze up, not exactly meeting his eyes, but not looking down either.

He extended the vest towards me once more, visibly trying to stay calm, "Now please put it on an' get back to the tent, so we can talk."

I gulped nervously, but didn't take the cloth from him, my fingers numb from my nervous state. Still, when Daryl moved behind me with a somewhat nervous movement, I allowed him to put the vest on me, his scent surrounding me in an instant, which didn't help me at all. I closed my eyes briefly and moved towards his tent, bending slightly as I went in. I wondered if I'd regret giving in, but I couldn't find it in me to just leave. Call me weak or whatever, but I craved his presence with everything I had.

Daryl followed close behind me, the warmness of his body reminding me of his presence all too well. I sat on his cot, slowly, staring at the tent's opposite side, desperately trying to stay focused, "You wanted to talk. So go on, talk."

The cot squeaked in protest when he sat next to me, way too close for my liking at that moment. Or well, much to my liking, but too close to let me keep my head straight. His legs were twitching nervously, his hands holding the cot's edge forcefully, and when I risked a quick glance at his face, I noticed he was biting his lower lip. I might have even felt sorry for him if I wasn't currently moping over myself being humiliated by him. He took a breath so deep I wondered if his chest wouldn't just pop, and said slowly, "I'm sorry I kissed ya'."

Something clenched my chest tightly, and I wondered if I'd be able to breathe, talk, or just live anytime soon. Fighting the urge to just throw something at him or at least sob a little, I gripped my fingers on the cot as well.

"I'm not." I chuckled gravely before I could muster longer on that short statement; and by the sudden movement of the cot I knew his head snapped as he looked at me in bewilderment. So I turned my own, meeting his gaze with a boldness I found quite unexpected, "What? I'm not."

"Pri-" he started, but quickly corrected himself and a weird mixture of pride that he listened to me and sadness ran through me at that, because I loved that silly nickname, "Victoria, be reasonable."

"And how am I not?" I asked shakily, tugging his vest tighter around myself; a move incredibly smart when it came to shielding myself from cold air and utterly stupid if I wanted to protect myself from Daryl. All of a sudden, with his calming smell, I wondered if he was really sitting next to me, because in my mind he was literally everywhere: he was the vest I had on me, the cot I was sitting on, he seemed to be the air I breathed and damn, the realization I simply adore this feeling made me so fucking scared I shivered involuntarily.

"C'mon," he grumbled, ignoring my shiver, moving his gaze from me to the ground, "Ya' can do so much better."

"Better?" I repeated slowly, surprised, turning my head to fully look at him. He moved as well, his legs still twitching nervously, as he forced himself to look back at me. His eyes were opened wider than usual, and he seemed almost frantic with his nervous movements and tone.

"Than me.'' He explained so quietly that if I wasn't looking at his face, I'd think it was just my imagination. I breathed slowly, tilting my head to the side. Could it be possible he wanted me, after all, but his insecurities kicked in? I desperately struggled to believe that, but some quiet voices in my head stated otherwise.

"Likewise." I wanted to smirk, I really did, but my mouth didn't want to cooperate, so my lips turned into some sort of grimace. Daryl's eyes widened even more in silent surprise, as I continued, "Look at me, I am nothing like you."

"That you're not," he grumbled humorlessly, clearing his throat in an almost sheepish manner and I had to smile at that, truly this time.

"No, I mean really look at me," I insisted hotly, and he brought his gaze back to me, as if he took my request literally, "I am not a fighter like you are, and I am not even halfway as skilled when it comes to survival, and I don't really handle pain well." I stopped for a moment, moving my eyes to his side, which was ripped merely a week ago; the very memory bringing a blush to my face. I continued in a hushed tone, turning my gaze back to his eyes, "You are everything that someone might need to survive a fucking end of the world and then some. You are everything- I am- not."

His blue pupils were searching mine and I found myself drawn to them, as I leaned slightly towards him, stopping myself at the very last moment. Then I shook my head the slightest bit and chuckled breathlessly, "Maybe you were right after all, stopping me. I'm not worth your time or effort, I won't make it anyway."

That might have been a low blow, but I couldn't help myself. Before he could respond, I got up abruptly, feeling hot, humiliating tears welling in my eyes yet again. I acted like a fucking fountain today, which didn't exactly brighten my mood. Not looking back, I covered the distance between me and the exit in two long strides, only to be stopped by two big hands, which turned me around. Daryl's face was full of anger and something close to suspicion, as he stared at me with his eyes wide open, "I do look at ya'."

I moved my hands to the sides, tilting my head, as if I wanted to expose myself, marking my words. He didn't smile, didn't even pretend he found my gesture amusing. Instead, his eyes held an amazing amount of intensity, as he licked his lips and continued, his gaze never leaving my eyes, "I do look, and I don' see what ya' described. I see someone who took care of a baby all on her own with walkers wanderin' 'round. I see someone tryin' to be useful and helpful." He stopped for a moment and even though a part of me wanted to interrupt and voice my disagreement, something in the way his eyes bored into mine made me rethink my actions and I remained silent. After what could have been a century or a split second of looking at each other, he continued, his voice barely audible, "I see someone who can stand me and who sees good in me even if I can't."

I swallowed slowly, a variety of feelings moving through my head: disbelief swirled right next to deep trust; gratitude mixed with embarrassment, and happiness was gently embraced by sorrow. I could see Daryl growing impatient with my silence and I bit my lower lip to stop a smile from showing; I couldn't blame him for being nervous: it was the longest speech I had ever seen him give. He usually restrained himself to short sentences or even grunts, and now he put extra effort into those lines. Still, I found myself struggling for words. I licked my lips slowly, "I-"

"Daryl?", a voice outside the tent made us both go stiff. After a really short moment, one far from being enough for me, the man collected himself and got up, leaving the tent.

Hesitating briefly, I followed suit and exposed myself to Rick's and Shane's surprised glances. The latter quickly moved his gaze to my legs and stared at them shamelessly, and I grew hot with anger at his boldness. Before I was able to voice my feelings, he said, "Are you okay?"

Something wasn't right with this question. I was taken aback by his concern, and also slightly surprised; but then I followed his gaze to my legs. There was a small strain of blood, almost reaching my ankle. It started at my thigh; I must have breached the seams while running. I nodded, and realizing he might expect a voiced answer, I said quietly, "Yeah, fine. Nothing major."

Rick's eyes moved from me to Daryl two freaking times, and it felt to me as if it took him an eternity to speak. He cleared his throat and focusing on the latter at last, he said, "We need to check the perimeter. The walkers never wandered so close to the farm."

Daryl's eyes moved to me uneasily, and I nodded, trying to silently tell him I'd be okay. I also hoped he knew the nod meant I didn't think this conversation was even close to being over. He nodded back and Shane took a step closer to me, frowning, "Come on, I'll walk you back to the farm."

Before I had time to react, or at least process Shane's words, Daryl moved uneasily next to me and grumbled, "I can do it alright."

Shane snorted at that, coming a step closer to the man, "Why, you think I'd do something inappropriate?"

"Ya' seem to do that a lot, 'specially when ya' know ya' shouldn'," Daryl's voice was low and threatening, and I noticed Shane's jaw clenching dangerously. They now stood almost face to face, and I had to admit Daryl looked powerful in my eyes at that moment, giving me a weird feeling down my stomach.

However, as much as I enjoyed this little testosterone contest over me, I decided it'd be wise to step in before things escalated further. Rick must have been thinking the very same thing (well, I'm not sure if he enjoyed the show as much as I did), since he tried to stand between the men and I followed his lead, wrapping my fingers around Daryl's arm and bringing his attention to me with the gesture. He glanced at me over his shoulder, and I could see the anger written in his stormy blue eyes. His gaze quickly returned to Shane and as lame as it seemed in my eyes, it was literally the only idea I had, so I moved my fingers up and down Daryl's arm slowly in an attempt to calm him. His muscles contracted under my touch and I could see goosebumps on his skin where my fingers brushed, but he didn't flinch. Not knowing what else to do, I didn't stop my ministrations, caressing his base arm and forearm with gentle movements. After a moment, he took a cautious step back, leaving Shane standing with a snarl over his face and Rick in front of him. Daryl's eyes never left Shane's huge form, almost as if he half expected the man to jump at him, and I found myself staring at the ex-cop suspiciously.

"Daryl, we'll take the south side, you take T-Dog and go in the opposite direction," Rick instructed, his eyes not leaving Shane as well. I felt my brow going up; did I miss something, should we keep Shane locked? Because both Daryl and Rick gave me that impression. I didn't really like him, most of the time he was nervous, unreasonable at times and cheeky, but other than that — he didn't strike me as a threat. Not a direct one, as in someone who could strangle me in my sleep.

I watched Daryl go into his tent and come back almost instantly, his crossbow on his back. He passed both men, nodding swiftly at Rick and standing right in front of me with an irritated expression.

"C'mon," he muttered commandingly, and started walking. I sent one last look in Shane's and Rick's direction, the latter nodding to me encouragingly, and I jogged behind Daryl. My bare feet made a quiet sound on the grass, as we walked briskly towards the farm, but other than that, our surroundings were mainly quiet. My head was spinning from all the information, starting with the tragic events that took place this evening, through Daryl's soft, insistent lips over mine, right to our heated discussion afterwards. I looked at the man next to me and his upright silhouette and calm features almost brought a smile to my lips despite everything that happened.

"Daryl?" I started quietly, feeling strangely close to approaching a wild animal. I slowed my pace a bit, partially because the adrenaline was wearing off and my leg started to hurt, and partially because I wanted to stay with him a moment longer.

"Yea?" The voice that left his mouth was soft and collected, but I could see that inside, he was just boiling. I couldn't quite decide whether it was better to leave him be and let him unwind on the walkers or to try to talk him through what he felt. As much as I craved to continue our conversation, I knew he had to focus if he was about to wander around the farm in complete darkness, in search of the walkers. I bit my lower lip, measuring my options, and after a moment of hesitation, I made up my mind.

"What was that about?" I asked cautiously. We were now close to the quiet farm and I could see Daryl slowed his pace as well. There was a light in the kitchen and in my imagination, I could see Patricia preparing tea for Hershel and probably Maggie, "to heal their souls," as she liked to say. The closer we were to the house, the slower Daryl seemed to be walking, and I wondered if he was as hesitant to leave me as I was about letting him go into the dark forest.

"I don' trust him," Daryl mumbled, and I nodded slowly, trying to show my understanding.

"Figured as much," I said, matching the man's pace, so now we were strolling slowly, "But why? I mean, okay, I get it, he was sleeping with Lori, but-", I stopped, searching for the right words. Suddenly, I realized we weren't walking at all and Daryl was standing in front of me, his left hand still holding the strap of the crossbow. He looked down at me with a serious expression.

"I think he might've killed Otis." Daryl said quietly, but something in his voice told me he didn't 'think' so. I opened my mouth a couple of times, unable to form any sentences, and I felt dizzy.

"But-" my voice was shaky, and I cleared my throat before continuing, "Are you sure?"

"He came back with the man's gun even though he said that Otis fell back to cover him. It doesn' take a genius to figure it out."

"Does Rick know?" Unconsciously, I took a step closer to Daryl and looked around frantically, as if Shane could jump from behind the chicken coop located nearby and snap my neck. With slight surprise, I registered that not only did Daryl not show any sign of amusement at my movement, but he also placed his right hand on my elbow and held me lightly, the small gesture the best assurance I've ever gotten in my life. I touched his waist, gently, searching his face.

"He ain't stupid, I bet he figured it out himself." Daryl said quietly, still looking down at me with a solemn expression.

"But you didn't tell him?" My voice shook as the words fell from my tongue and I felt Daryl's grip tightening on my elbow, providing me with the needed security.

"Didn't see the point in it," he muttered, "Gotta go, pri- Victoria."

I smiled and suddenly feeling brave, I rested my forehead on his chest, "I like the nickname."

After a moment of hesitation, he placed his chin on the top of my head and I closed my eyes briefly, savoring the feeling. Then, he took a step back, letting go of my elbow in the process, "We'll talk in the mornin'."

I nodded, feeling my breath hitch in my throat, and I hugged myself, craving the warmth he gave me just seconds ago. I desperately wanted to beg him to stay, to promise him anything he might have wanted. But I knew it wasn't my place to do so; furthermore, even knowing him for a couple of weeks, I could tell Daryl wasn't the type of person to back off after seeing potential threats. He was about to go, but my weak "Daryl?" was enough to stop him in his tracks. I took a deep breath and almost whispered, "Please, be careful."

"Always am, princess." He said, and I could almost hear the smile in his voice. "Talk to ya' in the mornin'."

I found myself standing there, staring at his retreating back, praying desperately for his last sentence to be true.

XXX

It was three hours and twenty-two minutes. Three hours and twenty-two minutes after Daryl left, and I kept pacing around my room nervously, counting minutes as if it could help the sun rise faster. Hershel checked my leg when I entered the house after watching Daryl go until I couldn't make his form in the darkness, and we came to mutual agreement that the seams loosened a bit, but it wasn't anything major, so no action was required. I took a quick shower, one I didn't enjoy at all, and I joined Rosie back in my room. It took me approximately twelve minutes to take off my clothes, get under the shower and wash myself, and then dress up again. After a few seconds of hesitation, I gingerly covered myself with Daryl's vest. Around ten minutes after he left, I noticed I still had the vest on, and I had half a mind to run after him to give it back, but I knew that a) he wouldn't be happy, and b) in my current state, if anything happened, I wouldn't be a help, but a reliability. Yeah, well, that plus Daryl would probably just murder me in the woods, so no, it wasn't worth a shot.

A feeling of relief washed over me, as the little one woke up to get some milk. It gave me something to do, and, if I counted correctly, kept me occupied for around twenty-four minutes and forty-three seconds, give or take. It was, however, not enough to bring the goddamn sun up, so after Rosie was cozily tucked in her bed, I found myself standing at the window, either clenching my hands on the windowsill, or hugging myself.

Now, standing at the window, desperately trying to see something in the darkness outside, I found some sort of comfort tucking myself in the vest. At home, the night was pretty warm, so I felt hot, but I couldn't quite bring myself to take it off. Instead, I tried to cover my form even more, savoring in the calming scent of Daryl.

Another minute and twenty-eight seconds had passed, and I twitched nervously, as I saw some movement in the darkness. Forty-eight seconds later I decided it must have been the wind, as no one came in sight. I covered my face with my hands and sighed shakily, letting my eyes rest for a moment. I tried to sleep for almost forty-four minutes so far, but it was pointless. While I was more and more tired, I just couldn't fall asleep no matter how hard I tried, my ears still trying to catch any sound indicating that guys were back, my eyes desperately looking for the first rays of the sun, as they would be the perfect excuse to just get off running to Daryl's tent.

Wrapping my mind over last night's event wasn't possible and that was a conclusion I came to several times during the night. No matter how hard I tried to understand why my legs took me to Daryl's tent, why he kissed me, and why he said what he said — it was all beyond me and my abilities to put any logical explanation behind all that happened.

I removed my hands from my face, casting one last glance through the window. Everything seemed to be peaceful, so with a small sigh, I forced my legs to move towards the bed, even though I knew I wouldn't be able to fall asleep. It creaked beneath me, as I laid down, not bothering to cover myself up. The vest was scratching lightly over my stitches and I found myself curling into a ball, partially to avoid the dull pain in my leg, and partly because I just wanted to hide under the rough material.

My surroundings were quiet, only Rosie's quiet breathing disturbing the almost ringing silence. Everyone else was asleep, or at least pretended to be, and yet again, I found myself staring at the clock, trying to make the hand move faster. It mocked me with every tick and I found myself almost believing that stupid thing was running slower than usual just to annoy me. I sighed with frustration and turned to my side, averting my eyes from the clock. Slowly, the white paint on the wall seemed less and less bright, and I couldn't quite tell whether the moon was losing its light, or it was just my sight growing less adequate, as my eyelids fell, and I welcomed the slumber with a great amount of relief.

XXX

I woke up with a start, hearing Rosie's uneasy voice. When I opened my eyes, I found her staring at me, standing in her basket so unsteadily for a second I was sure she'd just fall to the floor face first. I jumped out of bed like a flash, catching the baby before her tiny face collided with the hard, wooden boards.

"Now, my lady, I think we should find you a safer accommodation," I mumbled, getting up awkwardly, a sudden sting of pain in my thigh bringing me back to reality. My eyes snapped to the window and with relief, I noticed it was already morning. Trying not to overthink what was going on in my head (which, by the way, I'd assume was massive overthinking), I've set Rose on the bed and dressed quickly. The girl seemed to be preoccupied with my actions, as she just sat down on the duvet, unmoving. In the meantime, I've put on a skirt (yeah, not an entirely practical outfit nowadays, but I felt more- covered in it and at the same time, it didn't harm my leg) and straightened the Henley I wore yesterday, deciding it was good enough to wear today as well. Then, I changed Rosie's diaper and noted methodically that we were running low on those.

"There we go," I murmured, trying to keep my tone bright for the baby's sake, and as I gathered her in my arms, I left the room, running down the stairs as if my life depended on how fast I could get down.

Patricia was already in the kitchen, and she tried to smile at me, though her face was almost gray, and suddenly, it hit me that I was the most selfish person in the whole world. Since yesterday, I have been so preoccupied with what Daryl told me and with my fear for him, I haven't spared a single thought to Dale. I opened my mouth a couple of times, not entirely sure what I wanted to say: greet Patricia? Excuse myself? Complement the weather? I was, however, saved this time, as she spoke.

"The breakfast's ready," her quiet voice was even and calm, so steady that I envied her, trying to stop my racing heart, "And the funeral-"

Breath hitched in my throat and something in my eyes stopped Patricia from finishing the sentence. I realized my mouth fell open and I clenched it forcibly, feeling as my teeth met halfway with a sickening noise. Rose complained in my arms, trying to force me to move, but I was frozen to the spot, my heartbeat turning from fast to erratic.

I couldn't, I just couldn't attend another funeral. I felt the damn panic creeping over me, so I did my best to shut off. Patricia sighed, dried her hands, and approached me, taking Rose from my arms, "Now, go on. Eat something."

"I-", my voice was so raspy I grabbed my throat, whether to make sure there was no visible damage or to calm myself down; I couldn't tell. Clearing my throat, I tried again, "I'd prefer to take a walk first. Would you-"

"Yes, I've got her," Patricia smiled, for real this time, as she cuddled the baby, "Don't wander too far."

"I won't." I promised, leaving the kitchen quickly. I took a frantic look around, noticing that people in our camp were getting up. My previous thoughts about checking on Daryl were pushed away by my newest nuisance: the funeral.

I was here for like three whole weeks, and it'd be a third and I knew I just couldn't. I looked around frantically, as Glenn eyed me suspiciously from the camp and shouted, "Everything okay?"

I nodded, unable to find my voice for a minute. I still felt uneasy and as if I could fall, but the fresh air calmed my senses somewhat. I was so unfocused that Glenn managed to approach me without me noticing, so when I heard his voice from a much smaller distance, I twitched nervously. He was standing in front of the stairs, clutching something nervously in his hands, "We'll be gathering to-"

"I know," I cut in, before he managed to finish the sentence. I wasn't sure what to tell him next: the truth? Or maybe lie, that I'd definitely be there and… what?

I sighed, closing my eyes and pinching the bridge of my nose. Whatever was going on in Glenn's head, I had to give it to him; he didn't try to push me. It took me a long time to compose myself, but when I did, I looked up, meeting his sincere gaze and I found myself mumbling, "I don't know if I can do it."

"What do you mean?" He asked slowly, blinking. I looked around, as if a coherent answer was hiding behind a nearby bush or under a rock.

"I mean that-" I slowed, fixing my gaze on Glenn, "I mean that I don't think I can handle another funeral right now."

"But- Rick or Hershel will hold the ceremony," Glenn said in confusion. I sighed.

"I meant I am not sure I can attend it," I explained weakly. He sent me another surprised glance, but nodded his head, as if he understood my statement, even though his whole demeanor showed otherwise. I sighed yet again and asked, "Did the guys find anything last night?"

That was a good question, I must admit. It didn't show my actual concern, and yet, if anything happened to any of the men, Glenn would have told me without getting suspicious. Mentally patting myself on the back, I sheepishly untied a piece of material from my wrist and started gathering my hair into a ponytail just to do something.

Glenn shook his head, "The perimeter seemed to be clear, but today they plan on going further out to check the distant parts of the farm."

"Okay," I said quietly, going down the stairs. I stopped next to Glenn and patted him on the arm, awkwardly, but he accepted it without as much as a blink of an eye, "Are you holding up?"

His lips formed a thin line, and he nodded, staring at the ground intently. I patted him once more and, not knowing what else to say, I muttered, "It'll get better."

As soon as the words left my mouth, I almost slapped myself. Such a social butterfly. Yet again, Glenn was either dumbfounded by my words or simply tried to be understanding (no way in hell he found them helpful), because he sent me a half smile, touched my hand on his arm briefly, and climbed up the stairs, and I allowed my hand to fall limp down my side. I glanced at his retreating back and after a couple of seconds, I turned my gaze back to the group, only to have my heart speed up significantly. Talking to Rick, T-Dog, and Shane there was Daryl and before I knew it, I found myself stalking towards them.

Whatever I wanted to do or say was long forgotten when Daryl noticed me. If I figured he'd be happy, or at least fucking neutral, about seeing me, I should have known better. Sending me one, incredibly quick and empty glance, the man turned to Rick, muttered something I couldn't quite catch, and left off, motioning for Andrea and T-Dog to follow, propping his bow on his back at the same time. I stopped dead in my tracks, completely dumbfounded. Daryl's promise about talking to me in the morning rang loudly in my ears and I felt a pang of humiliation running through me, becoming a painful reminder of the previous evening.

Before I could think of any sort of plan for a quiet retreat, however, Shane caught my eye and moved his gaze over my frozen form. His brows furrowed, and he said something to Rick, patting his arm two times before starting his way towards me. I cursed inwardly: the last thing I needed right now was his mockery.

"Everything okay? You look like you've seen a ghost," he said instead of a greeting. I stared at him angrily, hoping he'd take the hint and just leave me be, but he just stood in front of me patiently. I sighed, crossing my arms.

"Yeah, I'm good. Just-" I moved one of my hands in a circle, "Shaken."

Shane looked at me for a moment longer and nodded, "Okay."

That's it? That's why you came here in the first place, to be so easily dismissed?

"Okay." I repeated numbly, and Shane patted my arm, reminding me of my awkward gesture towards Glenn, and went away as if he found our conversation satisfying.

I bit my lower lip, looking around. No one seemed to pay attention to me, so I stalked away, double-checking if I was in the clear one more time on the way. Why exactly I wanted to keep my whereabouts a secret I couldn't actually tell, but it felt right at that moment. My fear of attending the funeral was now slightly fogged by the gloominess following Daryl's weird behavior, and I couldn't quite decide which one I preferred.

I approached the empty barn and pulled on the door forcefully. They gave up with a quiet, squeaky noise which sent unpleasant shivers down my spine. The smell in the barn reminded me of the horse riding lessons my mom made me take as a teenager, but it also brought a distant, discarded memory of my summer at one of my aunts, though I couldn't quite recall her name. I took a deep breath, trying — and failing — to remember this irrelevant detail. As silly as it was, it made me miss my family more than before — I couldn't even quite recall whether she was my mother's or father's family, and this stupid detail started to annoy me beyond reason.

I've set my left foot on the first step of a wooden ladder, leading to the upper floor of the barn. I've seen Carl sitting there once, and I figured he wouldn't mind if I stole his spot for a moment. Trying to cover myself with the damn skirt, which seemed to be going up my thighs almost constantly, I climbed up steadily and stopped in my tracks: the place was already taken by the boy himself. I was a millisecond from moving back down, but his head snapped back, and he looked at me over his shoulder.

"Uh, hi," I muttered sheepishly, standing next to the ladder and straightening my skirt, "I- didn't know you were here."

"That's okay," he answered quietly, propping his sheriff's hat, "I guess I'm not supposed to be here."

"Why?" Before I knew it, I covered the distance between us in a few steps and sat down next to him before I could change my mind. The skin on my thigh hurt me in protest, but I sat down nonetheless, finding wicked comfort in the pain. The boy shrugged, staring in the distance thoughtfully. I looked at him sideways, noticing how young and small he suddenly seemed. I had a feeling something was bugging him, but I didn't know whether I should be the one talking him through it.

"My mom says I should always say where I go," Carl explained quietly, "And I didn't."

I looked away from him, fixing my gaze on the horizon. I could feel it in his stance that he preferred to talk without meeting my stare, but I didn't mind. I found it somewhat soothing, to be in the kid's presence. It's not like I was a huge fan of kids; some of them were okay, but there were also a bunch of total brats. The boy sitting next to me, however, I always found him quite pleasant. Smart, not overly talkative, but polite and at that moment clearly troubled. My own sour mood was probably helping us, because I was more than eager to focus on his problems instead of mine.

I bit my lower lip, weighing my options, as he remained in the same position, shoulders limp, lips turned into grimace, and a small frown on his face.

"Something wrong?" I asked slowly. I didn't have much experience with kids and I wondered if that was something I should say, but Carl didn't seem to mind; or at least he didn't get angry.

"No." He said, and before I could even form a proper reply, he changed his mind, "Yes."

"Oh," I murmured slowly, suddenly feeling the weight of the conversation. Even the toughest discourse with Daryl didn't hold as much importance: I still remembered I used to take everything seriously as a kid, and he struck me as a similar type of person, so I had to think every word through, "Care to tell?"

Carl was silent for a moment, but then he started slowly, "Have you ever done something you were not allowed to, and it ended in a bad way?"

I bit my lower lip, "Well, when I was like 5 or so, I ate my dad's birthday cake the day before the party. I had a nasty stomach ache and my mom kept whining about the cake for the rest of the day, but I guess we're not talking about things like that."

The boy snorted a bit in amusement, and I risked a quick glance at him. There was a small smile on his lips, and even though his features were still troubled, he seemed to be more at ease. "No," he said slowly, "Nothing like that."

I took a deep breath, thinking quickly. I could ask him to tell me, which might shut him off or might make him tell me his secret. I can also encourage him to share the story with someone he trusted, his mom or dad. It was hard to tell which one would be a better option, since I didn't know the boy very well. As I mused wordlessly, our longest conversation must have been at a dinner on the farm, when we discussed the sweets we loved in the world before.

Licking my lips slowly, I made a decision, praying for it to be right, "You know," my voice was so quiet that Carl's head snapped my way, probably to hear me better, "I think you should follow the old method of dealing with that. Can we play a small quiz?"

"Sure," and even though his mood was still somber, I could feel a small glimpse of excitement bubbling in him. I bit back a smile, trying to focus on the task at hand, finding it really comforting to be able to help someone and finally stop thinking.

"Okay. You can confirm or deny my statements and your answer will determine my next question," I clasped my hands in my lap. Carl nodded his understanding and I started, "Have you told anyone?"

"No," Carl's answer was quick, and the boy broke eye contact, staring in the distance.

"Do you think you should?" The question left my mouth before I could think about it.

"Yeah, probably."

"Do you want to?"

"I don't know."

I took my time after that answer, carefully trying to find a way to convince him he could trust me or someone else in the group. "If you keep your secret, can it affect someone else in a way?" Carl's brows furrowed at my question and I quickly added, "Can something bad happen to someone else or to you if you don't tell your secret to someone you trust?"

This one left Carl hanging restless, as he looked at the fields in front of us, propping his hat constantly. After a while, he managed, "Probably."

I nodded. "I know it's not my place to decide, but perhaps you should consider telling this to someone?"

I watched the boy's lips turn into a grim line in silence. He then moved his gaze to me and nodded, "Okay. I'll think about it."

I cracked a small smile, feeling warmness spreading somewhere deep down. It was weirdly comforting to know I managed to help the boy, even if I had no clue how to talk with him in the first place. "Good."

We stayed silent for a moment longer and finally, Carl stood up, dusting off his pants. He looked at me, a hint of a smile on his lips, "Thanks."

I raised an eyebrow playfully, "For what?"

"You know," the boy shrugged, "The talk."

"Anytime."

When he left, I hugged my knees, staring in the distance; Daryl's weird behavior almost — but only almost — forgotten.

XXX

I was rocking Rosie on my hip, the little girl playing with every strand of my hair she could reach, causing slight pangs of pain in my skull. No matter how nervous I felt about attending the funeral, it was happening, and I didn't know a way out, so I found myself standing in the far corner of the farm, while Rick and Andrea gave their speeches. Much to my surprise, even though Daryl's gaze was moving over me as if I was invisible most of the day, he hovered nearby, probably trying to provide some comfort in his own way.

As much as I craved his attention, the little pride I had left in me made me avoid looking at him expertly. I found it, surreal and childish really: even though we were both attending a fucking funeral, we were silly enough to act like that.

I was so lost in thought I didn't quite catch the moment when the funeral finished, only Rick's soft hand on my arm bringing me to the present. "Let's go."

His sincere gaze moved from me to Rose, and he smiled at the little girl, caressing her cheek gently. I found myself following the gesture with the ghost of a smile. With the corner of my eye I noticed Daryl leaving and I couldn't quite decide whether I felt more humiliated than disappointed by it. Whichever that was, it was burning a deep hole in my stomach, as I returned Rick's smile and assured him I was fine.