A/N: A rewrite of Daryl and Carol's relationship - taking off in season 1 – following through to season 4ish / inspired by Afraid of Everyone by The National

Chapter 1

The scenery surrounding the brothers may have changed, but the stories leaving Merle Dixon's mouth were the same stories that Daryl had been listening to for years. To Daryl, the stories were like old songs. He'd heard them so many times, that he could now sing along to them in his head.

He took each agonizing step, knowing he had nothing better to do but grunt and nod his head, deciding that it was easier to just agree with every stupid and pointless thing his big brother had to say.

Merle was high, as usual. And as usual Daryl had to drag him to the cover of the woods, in hopes of hiding his brother's addiction from the rest of the group.

He quietly feared that they would see the Dixon brothers for the flight risk that he knew they were. Surely then they would be asked to leave.

Right now he was just happy that these people didn't know exactly how much of risk the Dixon brothers were to them.

It had taken him weeks to convince Merle not to rob the group while they slept and run off with everything they needed to endure this new and harsh reality.

He'd argued that they wouldn't make it alone and there was simply nowhere else to go. Though his reasoning was logical, is was not accepted warmly by his older brother. If anything, it seemed to cause a resentment that Daryl was forced to endure.

Now all he could think was that these long tedious hours alone in the wilderness was Merle's way of making him pay for forcing them to stay.

Daryl had spent all day alone with him in his brothers intoxicated state, wandering around through the woods and listening to the mind-numbing tales, while accepting every insult that Merle thought to throw at him.

Merle walked ahead of him, complaining about some junkie they both used to know. A man who was more than likely dead long before the outbreak.

He had robbed Merle years ago, when Merle had been stupid enough to get black-out drunk around him.

Every so often when Merle was high and talking crap, he would bring it up. Daryl had heard the same story more times than he could count. He always wondered what Merle had expected from him, especially when the man had openly admitted to stealing from his own mother.

Daryl had met the man a few times, but couldn't imagine turning his back on him. Let alone allowing himself to become so intoxicated that he would leave a window open for the addict to take advantage of him.

As far as Daryl was concerned, Merle had no one else to blame but himself. But he was determined to keep Merle in a good mood and avoid any arguments. So rather then voice his opinions, he nodded, mumbling every so often about what an ungrateful asshole the man was.

Merle didn't even seem to notice that the same thing he was mad at the Junkie for, was the same thing he'd been planning to pull on the group. People who were stupid enough to fall asleep around him. But he didn't point that out to Merle either.

There was a trail that the group used to make their way from the water to the campsite, but the brothers never used it. Not seeing the point when it just added to the time it took to get them back to their tent.

Instead they walked through the cover of the trees, heading in the direction of the camp.

That was when he saw her.

He pretended to listen to Merle as he watched Carol stagger up the path alone. She got closer to them and he watched her, puzzled as to what hell she was doing. Wondering what she was thinking being out there alone, especially when she wasn't even paying enough attention to notice her surroundings.

Merle wasn't particularly loud, but he wasn't exactly hard to hear either. He wandered along slowly, watching her. He realized as she got closer that her eyes were red and she was lightly rubbing her right wrist with her left hand.

He found himself feeling rude for starring and decided to return to his brother's side. He had only taken a few steps when he heard a thud and a surprised gasp, but then there was nothing but silence.

He turned scanning the area for her, but she was just gone. Just like that. No screaming. Nothing. As if she had vanished into thin air. Panic and concern quickly built in his gut and his feet started moving quickly, slamming into the ground as he headed towards the path.

As his feet hit the smooth trail he looked around hysterically. He was ready to call out to her when he heard a noise from the ground. That was where he found her, face down in the dirt.

He let out a heavy sigh of his relief and shook his head as he took in the sight and relaxed.

He watched as Carols head tuned to see his black tattered boots approaching her. He watched as she somehow recognized them, seeing the relief wash over her face. Without much thought he reached down and tightened his hands around her waist and lifted her back to her feet, mostly out of frustration, more then simply wanting to help her up.

He instantly wanted to ask the women what the hell she was thinking, being out here alone. He wanted to tell her she was being stupid and she was going to get herself killed. But as he watched her wipe the dirt from her pants, he instantly found himself feeling like a prick for thinking those things.

She obviously had enough people yelling at her with out him adding to it. And who was he to give her a hard time? He'd been ignoring her for weeks. He'd even seen her eyes glassy like this before, knowing she was hurt. But he still hadn't spoken to her, he hadn't even seen fit to ask her if she was ok. So now didn't really seem like the right time to take an interest in her safety.

Carol whispered a quiet thank you while wiping the dirt from her pants. When she did finally look up to meet his gaze she took in the soft expression he had, leaving her to stunned to say anything else.

He looked her up and down, examining her as he opened his mouth to respond. He wanted to tell her not to worry about it. He wanted to offer to walk her back to camp. But before he could utter a single word, he was abruptly cut off.

"Daryl?"

He watched as Carols eyes darted over to Merle, who stood a few feet away from the trail.

Carol looked right at Merle but didn't receive any recognition. His eyes were fixed on the back of Daryl's head and he knew it. He could feel them burning into him.

Carol watched as Merle's face twisted into an expression that she couldn't decipher, annoyed maybe? Possibly frustrated, or even disappointed, though none of them made any sense.

She looked back over in time to see Daryl's eyes drop from hers, as his soft expression dissolved. His face quickly molded back into the hardened one she was accustomed to seeing every afternoon, when he sat next to her and helped her with dinner.

He turned away from her, leaving the trail without a word or a second glance.

She watched as he walked straight by Merle, keeping his head down as he passed by him quickly, as if nothing had happened.

Merle fell into step behind Daryl, his gaze was still firmly locked on him. There was a strong look of confusion and distaste, though Merle quickly wiped his face clear and followed his brother's lead, dropping his head down and disappearing out of her sight.

She stood there a few seconds longer, trying to understand the soft expression on Daryl's face and wondering what he would have said if they weren't interrupted, until she suddenly remembered why she was out there to begin with.

The anxiety she'd felt, before falling face first in the dirt, quickly returned when she felt the throbbing in her arm. She hurried up the path to where she had left Ed's coat to dry. She had hung it with everyone else's laundry after cleaning it at the quarry, now she began quietly cursing herself for leaving up there to begin with.

She had found Ed going through his bag like a mad man looking for it, until she reluctantly told him where it was. He'd growled insults through his teeth, trying to be as quiet as he could, until he couldn't contain his anger anymore. In the same moment that he lost control of his temper, he'd reached out to her and squeezed her arm tightly in his hand. He had squeezed it so hard that she was sure he was going to rip it from the socket.

When she left to retrieve his jacket she had been so upset that she wasn't paying attention to her surroundings. The tears had filled her eyes and she wiped them harshly, that was when the stupid accident had taken place. She hadn't noticed the Dixon brothers in the woods along side her and she didn't notice the the branch that she tripped over.

Merle quickly dropped onto a foldout chair, ready to relax. But Daryl couldn't bring himself to join his brother. He had dropped his bag, crossbow and sting of squirrels alongside Merle's but now he was stuck staring at the pile.

He couldn't help but scan the areas as he'd piled his things on to the ground by the burnt-out fire. He noticed that the whole group was at the camp site, meaning Carol was at the waterhole alone. And most likely unarmed.

He knew that if he went back now, it would only make it worse when Merle finally brought up what happened on the trail. But he also couldn't stop thinking about how miserable she looked, how she was obviously too upset to notice a single thing that was going on.

Daryl and Merle's tent was away from the rest of the groups, the only one that was even close to them was the Peletier families tent. Merle's big mouth, drug habits and the simple fact that he just didn't play well with others, was Daryl's reason for distancing himself from everyone else. After the first week Daryl realized the reason Ed had set up so far away, was because he didn't play nice with anyone, including his own family.

Merle was unpacking a few things from his bag, looking for his pack of smokes, when Daryl finally shook his head to himself and jumped to his feet.

Merle's head snapped up, watching him walk back of into the woods with his crossbow in hand.

"Where ya goin?" Merle barked out.

"Takin' a piss" he snapped back as he walked off, assuring he moved to fast for any more questions to be asked.

He could feel Merle's eyes on him as he headed back into the woods, but decided that his brother giving him shit was a hell of a lot easier than hearing Carol's screams when a Walker made a meal out of her.

He often overheard Lori talking to Shane and Jacqui, saying something had to be done about Ed.

Shane argued that there was a chance their involvement could make everything much worse. If they approached Ed and made demands, there was a chance that Ed could just pack the three of them up and leave. Daryl didn't know if it was true or not. What he did know, was that he'd heard Ed complaining about how their personal stash was almost gone. Daryl had even found a way to bring it up in a conversation with Shane. He was a cop, he had to be able to fill in the gaps.

He knew Ed hated the way they ordered him around. Not that Ed did much of anything other then walking around the campsite like he was some kind of god.

Sometimes Ed went on the occasional supply run or was asked to help around the camp. He was never asked to do very much, but when anything was requested of him it was more then obvious that he thought he was above the mundane chores.

Daryl knew men like Ed, he had been raised by one. And he knew enough to know that Ed wouldn't lower himself to do what was asked of him, unless he knew that he needed the group to survive.

So why then?

What the hell was Shane waiting for?

The thought was constant and frustrating.

It seemed sometimes like they still living in the old world, a world where men like Ed had rights?

When the world went to shit, in a lot of ways it felt like they had left everything behind them. There were no more creature comforts or safe havens. Everything that they once relied on, simply ceased to exist.

But for some reason they were clinging to the idea that the what happened between a man and his wife was no ones business, even if it meant that the wife may not survive much longer.

Carol often didn't seem like she was even considered a member of the group. No matter how much she contributed, it still seemed like she was nothing but an extension of Ed. Nothing but his property. That was how Ed seen her and it seemed like very few people disagreed with that theory.

He picked up his pace and ignoring the hundreds of questions he had for Shane, Carol… and well- just all of them.

He reached the end of the long trail just as Carol was returning to it. He thought about calling out to her or just wandering along beside her. But he was worried what trouble that might cause.

He stayed in the woods, walking back to the camp, alongside her, but without her knowing.

He kept his guard up. Gripping his crossbow tightly. Watching all the things that she wasn't paying mind to. Occasionally rolling his eyes at her when she picked at the loose threads on her husband's jacket.

He stuck with her as she returned to the safety of the camp, then watched her greet Lori before he turned back to the woods, walking slowly until he reached his tent.

He stumbled back to the campsite casually, watching as his brother went from looking at him, to eyeing carol's return. Merle then darted his eyes back at him. He raised his brow and smirked.

Just as Daryl thought before he left, nothing would go unnoticed by Merle.

"Boy, ya' barkin' up the wrong god-damn-tree."

Carol made sure not to take notice of the Dixon brothers as she passed. She knew Ed was close by watching her out of the corner of his eye, while he spoke to Jim. She didn't want to upset him anymore than she had by stepping off the fine line he'd set for her.

Though she kept her head fixed in the direction of the tent, she'd noticed Daryl, watching her as she walked by. She had seen him doing it a great deal. He always stole glances at her, especially when he was skinning whatever he had caught during his hunting trips.
She knew he only watched her because she was the one who was going to cook the meal, so he kept an eye on her, waiting to see if she was ready to start their daily ritual.

She quickly picked up the clothes Ed had scattered through the tent during his earlier tantrum and left his coat folded neatly on his bag. She gave herself a few seconds to take a deep breath after she completed the task, bracing herself before she had to go out and face everyone again.

She plastered a content smile on her face, in order to draw less attention to herself. If she pretended she was fine then no one would think to talk to her and if no one talked to her then she wouldn't be interrogated later when Ed demanded to know what she had been asked and what she had told them.

She walked out of her tent and passed Daryl, he didn't look in her direction, he just waited for her to pass him, before standing to his feet to follow her slowly a few steps behind.

Carol watched Lori as she leaned over Sophia, pointing to a page in a book, explaining something to Sophia. Lori didn't often help with the cooking, but if she did, it wasn't until all the messy work was out of the way. She complained the smell and sight of blood was too much for her. She said watching Daryl rip the animals to pieces was to much for her.

The first time Daryl cut open a deer in front of Lori, she'd covered her mouth and ran off. Carol stood close by Daryl barely flinching at the gory sight.

Ed had been hunting since they met and the sight didn't faze her any more. Though she had never seen Ed return from those hunting trips with the bounty that Daryl always seemed to come back with.

That day when Daryl had roughly cut into the deer, Lori had let out a loud groan as she ran away, while Carol remained at Daryl's side. She told Lori she could come along later when it was done, assuring her that she could manage on her own. Lori had turned to face her again, ready to reply, when Daryl's hand suddenly ripped out a hand full of guts from the animal, causing Lori to suddenly wave her hand at Carol as she fled.

She'd watched Lori stumbled of towards the kids, both worried and amused with Lori's reaction. It wasn't until she heard the low muffle of Daryl Dixon laughing that all thoughts of Lori evaporated. He'd had his back to her and his head hanging down while he worked, there was no way to catch even a glimpse of his face and she had always regretted not seeing him when the chuckle emerged.

The cold expression seemed to be set in stone from there on after, just as it had been before.

Every day the same bleak frown was in place and it left her wishing that she had been able to see him smile that day.

Daryl noticed that every afternoon without fail, Ed would have already positioned himself so that he could keep an eye on Carol.

He hated being in direct view of the man, but on the rare occasion that Ed was off doing chores it was almost worse. Carol would always take advantage of the situation and try to start a conversation or make a joke. Daryl forced himself to ignore her, never letting out more than a grunt in response, always making sure he looked as uninterested as possible.

He was convinced that Ed would return when they were talking or when he wasn't looking. He knew Ed was easily angered and that there was a possibility that he would hurt Carol if she did something he didn't like.

If Ed did hurt Carol because of something he did, then he would have to live with knowing that it could have been avoided, if he'd just avoided her.

He sat by her feet, as usual, skinning the animals and passing her the pieces of meat as he cut them free.

He tried to keep his head down and ignore her, but when he glanced in Ed's direction he noticed that he and Jim had their back to them, strolling slowly through the camp, seemingly deep in conversation.

He took the opportunity to look up at her for the first time since they started getting dinner ready. She looked completely different to the women he saw in the dirt, less than half an hour ago. She was calm and fixated on her task, though he was sure it was all a facade.

He followed her gaze to Ed and then looked back to her. He watched her shake her head to herself and look back to the table.

He dropped his head when he realized that her arm was most likely still sore. She tried to stay composed, but he had sat next to her every day and she had always moved much faster than she was. He had done this with her long enough to know that she was struggling to push the blade through the tough raw meat.

Usually she was waiting on him, dicing each piece perfectly, so quick that he never even bothered trying to keep up with her.

But today the meat was piled up besides the chopping bored.

He thought about leaving, but Lori didn't look like she was in any rush to get over here and help. It was just a stew of veggies and meat, so he doubted she was intending to help Carol at all.

He stood to his feet and wiped his hands on his pants. He had to go he decided. She was fine, she was alive, and she was just chopping some damn meat.

He looked around, ready to leave in silence as usual, when he noticed that Ed was out of sight and no one seemed to be even looking in their direction.

He looked over at how Carol's body was tense as she forced the knife through the meat, slowly and roughly.

He had helped her cook before, he thought to himself, over and over again like a chant.

He sighed heavily, but it erupted much more like a growl. He couldn't help but be annoyed with himself as he made his way to her side.

She noticed him approaching her and she had seen him staring at her while she chopped the meat. She was going to slow, she thought. She was slowing up dinner and he was no doubt hungry after spending his whole day hunting.

She was sure he was annoyed until she saw his face. The soft concerned expression that he gave her on the trail had returned and it had left her just as stunned as it had then.

He moved closer to her than he ever had before. His side pressed to hers.

It all happened in a few seconds.

His rough hand closed lightly over hers. She froze watching his hand slide the knife from hers as his body lightly pushed her aside, so he could take her place.

He nodded in direction of the assorted cans at the other end of the table. She stood stunned for a second, but noticed him looking around them too see who was watching.

She took the few steps to the end of the table and began opening the cans of vegetable and bags of rice. She seemed unable to stop herself from looking at him, catching him doing the same, before his eyes darted back down to the meat that he was slicing quickly.

She realized he must have known she was hurt, the only other times he had helped at the table was when there was too much to be done. Both Lori and Jacqui were sick the last time she remembered him standing next to her, but they were both so busy they barley acknowledged each other presence.

The Dixon brothers were the only ones even remotely close to their tent and she couldn't help but get embarrassed thinking about what they may have overheard. Chances were he had heard enough to know much more then anyone else in their small group.

He sat the knife down and slid the cutting board towards her with the meat on it ready to be cooked. She looked up at him trying to force a smile. No matter what he had heard or seen, he was trying to be nice. The edge of his lip curved in response, trying his best to be polite. But beyond the faint grin she could see that the rest of his face held nothing but concern. He took two steps back, holding eye contact with her for just a few seconds longer, before he turned around left.

At first she thought his concern came out of nowhere. She finished getting ready and thought about how his eyes would often snap up when ever they were alone, constantly scanning the camp. She thought it was because he was uncomfortable or he was just keeping an eye out for walkers, but now she wondered if he was just waiting on Ed's arrival, just like she was. She sighed shaking her head to herself as she stirred the rice, realizing that Daryl had most likely been avoiding her for her own sake.

Throughout the following week he quietly took a clean chopping board from the table, and worked on helping her as much as he could without drawing any attention to them.

He sat down at her feet as usual, but only ever passed her the smaller pieces of meat.

Carol had watched him placing the bigger pieces on the spare board but never questioned him.

He knew she could feel his eyes on her face as she cut the small pieces, examining her reaction to making use of her sore wrist. Each day he would put the chopping board of meat on his lap, and quickly chop the larger and thicker pieces himself and he decided he would continue on with helping her until he was sure that she was able to do the work alone. He would help Carol and avoid feeling like an asshole. Just for a few days.

No one seemed to notice the small change in the routine. No one noticed that every now and then she would quietly make a joke, or smart-ass comment to him. It was obvious to him that she was taking every chance she could get to make him laugh, but he didn't really know why.

He wanted to ignore her as usual, not wanting to encourage her by letting her know he thought she was funny. He knew Carol had watched his eyes drift off, always glancing in Ed's direction, instantly nervous that he had seen her talking to him. But after a few days he realized it was something she had already checked. Because when he looked up he only ever seen the back of Ed's head.

So eventually he relaxed. She had been around Ed long enough to know what she was doing, he thought. So, he gave in. He started looking at her when she spoke to him, or quietly laughing at her jokes, so softly that no one else could hear.

The truth was that he was tired of ignoring her and feeling like an ass. He liked her. And the more she talked to him, the more he liked her. But it only made it harder not to talk back, harder not to try and make her laugh too.

He found himself watching her more than he was before. Something he didn't think was possible. There was so much wasted energy in ignoring her, rejecting any interaction, of knowing he was just another mean prick in her life, when he wanted to be anything but. All of it was just exhausting.

He finished slicing the meat and watched Ed, who was pulling the drums of water off the back of the truck with Shane and T-dog, almost out of their view.

It had been over a week since Ed had hurt her arm and maybe if he had have kept ignoring her he wouldn't have he noticed her latest injury.

His blood had boiled when he noticed the marks on her neck. She had attempted to rub it in hopes to sooth it, without drawing attention to herself. But he had seen the angry bruise. He wanted to beat the crap out of Ed, end all the shit right there and then. But he didn't.

He didn't do anything. And that fact gnawed at him as he sat beside the table where she worked.

He was just like everyone else. Ignoring it. Acting like the ring on her finger meant Ed had rights over her life.

He hated himself for it. He dreaded the idea that Carol thought of him like the rest of the group, that she was nothing more than someone's property. That she thought that he was brushing the whole thing off. Just ignoring everything until something happened her. And he knew it would.

Fuck it, he thought.

He got to his feet, the tray of meat in his hands. She turned her head slightly as he slid the board along the table in front of her, getting much closer than needed. He watched her as he moved closer to her side, his arm barely touching hers, but it was enough to make his breathing grow heavier, cause his heart pound and his fingers fidget at his sides.

He waited for her to pull away from him, because he couldn't bring himself too. He watched as a hint of a smile appeared, watched as she lightly moved into him so that his arm was completely pressed into her. Her eyes were still fixed on the knife as it moved and he knew he didn't have time to find the right words before Ed was watching her again. He knew he just had to come out with it.

"You alright Carol?" her eyes snapped up to his, taking in his exposed and troubled expression. His brittle husky voice shattered the silence they had been in and it made her heart stop for a moment as she tried to compose herself.

"I'm fine" she said so confidently he almost believed her.

He raised his eyebrow at the programmed response and quickly glanced at her wrist and drifted to her neck, his eyes filled with concern as they met hers again.

"I will be fine" she said correcting herself.

"It's nothing. Really", she added with a forceful edge.

Carol had spoken so assuredly that she obviously didn't understand why he flinched at the sound of the words leaving her mouth.

She watched as Daryl nodded his head lightly to himself, as if he had just realised something or decided on an option.

They both stood still in silence for a moment longer, before Carol forced a soft smiled at him, dropping her head back down to the meat, wondering if he was focused on his arm touching hers as she was.

He knew he had to leave, he'd been standing there for way too long, but she felt so soft and warm next to him that he couldn't just walk away. The need to be different than everyone else, for her to know he was different, was foreign, overwhelming and inescapable.

"Carol", he barely whispered keeping his voice controlled, though it had a dark edge to it that even he hadn't expected. She hummed in response but kept her head down and continued chopping the last of the meat up. His tone was quite obviously making her nervous, but she stayed composed as always and waited for him to continue.

He didn't think about it, he just let hand rise from his side to touch hers, his silent request for her to stop worrying about the meat. It was just a second but the contact halted her instantly.

"If you ever need me to do anything for ya, just let me know " he whispered as the comforting pressure of his body left hers.

He stepped back, examining her reaction. She looked puzzled as she processed the offer, her head suddenly snapped up, watching as he slowly backed away.

"Anything at all" he added raising his brow, and eyeing her knowingly while she continued to gape at him. His calm words had a held a sinister vibe, that he couldn't contain and she couldn't ignore.

She knew he wasn't offering to help with dinner or get her some firewood. She knew without a doubt that he had just offered to do something about her husband. Whatever that may be.

Weeks had passed by and for the most part everything had been going smoothly. That was until the group returned from a run without Merle. She could almost feel the change in the air. She had watched Daryl carefully when he'd left to go after his brother, and his gaze had found her. There was a slight nod exchanged between them, before he left, but that had been it.

And now they were back.

She watched as Daryl slammed the door to the truck, so harshly the sound made her flinch. They had all returned home safely. But no Merle.

She couldn't take her sights of his bloodshot eyes and pale complexion as he stormed through the camp. His head hung, but his shoulders were tensed. She knew he was trying to hold himself together as he past everyone, she knew he could see people openly greeting the returning members, while guarding him as though he was dangerous. Though Daryl had never done a single thing to earn their fear of him. He'd had, what the group described as a violent outburst, when he had found out what had happened to Merle. But she wouldn't have expected anything less. People don't usually react well when they find out their brother was handcuffed to a rooftop and left to die.

She had seen it as less of a violent outburst and more of an emotional breakdown.

She had been out there, she had seen what the world had become. They all had been out there. Though she had hoped for Merle to return safely, if only for Daryl's sake, she knew the chances were very low.

Everyone's watched him disappear into the tent, as if he were a volcano about to erupt. Her heart sank as he turned for a second to see them all just looking at him. Doing nothing but examining him as though he was some kind of monster.

She wanted to run over to him and ask him if he was ok. She wanted to offer some kind of comfort and ask if there was anything she could do for him. She had even forgotten where she was long enough to take a step in his direction, before remembering her husband was standing next to her.

She didn't wonder for a second longer why he had stopped on the path to help her that day. She knew for certain now. She was his friend and he was hers. He just knew it before she did.

Other than Lori, Ed and Sophia, he was the only person she spent her time with. But it had only just occurred to her, as he walked off alone, that other than Merle, she was the only one he spent any time with. Without Merle, Daryl would think he was alone.

She needed to fix that.

Now what? What the fuck do I do now? the thought repeated over and over in his head, as he stared at the fabric on Merle's empty sleeping bag, that lay flat and cold beside him.

He replaced the safety of his big brother's presence with his weapons, laying them out on the shiny green material so he could get to them all at a second's notice. He laid unmoving, staring at them until it got so dark he couldn't see anything.

He thought he might vomit when he found Merle's severed hand, but it was not nearly as bad as what followed. They had walked all through the city with no sign of Merle, they'd found Glen and returned to find the truck was gone. Merle had obviously taken it, that's when the familiar pain began to emerge.

He didn't like it, but he found himself conflicted on the way home. A part of him wanted to get back to the camp and find a war zone that his brother had created, at least it would mean that he hadn't just left him again. But there was nothing.

Where the hell is the jackass?

Even the thought was familiar and he realised it as soon as the words ran though his mind.

He'd been here before.

The fact that he was alone was proved even further when he saw the way the group looked at him. Watching him like he was a Walker, like they were afraid of him.

What the hell did they think I was gonna do?

The thought made him realise they didn't know him, none of them did, the only person who did had fucked of. Again.

He laid on his side, his arms wound around his stomach as they always did when he attempted to relax. As usual he couldn't bring himself to stop his arms from flexing and tensing up.

It was the lack of the weight in his hands that always sent his body into a panic. The heavy crossbow meant he was on guard and protected, that he was safe. He noticed time and time again how powerless and exposed he felt every time the weapon left his firm grip, especially when he had to put it down to go to asleep.

It had been this way long before Merle disappeared and long before the outbreak.

Tonight was no different, not when it came to the bows position. He always had it pressing into his body, never out of reach. But it didn't help relax him. He always woke with his strained arms, that were wound tightly around him like a protective shield.

But at least he slept, even if it was only for a few hours at a time.

If he had Merle next to him he could eventually bring himself to close his eyes, even if it was just from exhaustion.

At least before his arms were tangled around his body because he felt vulnerable. Now he clutched his arms as tight as he could, because he felt physically sick.

He laid there alone.

Trying to steady his breathing, trying not to be afraid. But it didn't matter what he did, the revolting swarm of knots that had formed, tightened with each hour that passed. Agonizingly hardening in his gut until they were solid again, set back into their old uncomfortable position. They returned to his middle and spread through his chest with a vengeance, as if they had never left.

Bringing with them the unbearable and familiar feeling of abandonment, a feeling he had spent most of his life with. That feeling twisted into the knots like old roots that had just been waiting to resurface. Making the knots stronger. Making him weaker. Making sure he knew, he was alone.