Author's Notes: Thank you for the time spent on A Heavy Cross. I will be returning to it, just needed a little break and this popped into my head. Please note that whilst a lot of my fictions contain language and graphic sexual content, this is particularly dark, featuring violence and dubious consent. It's not pretty.

TWDTWDTWD

It was not even two weeks after they left the Greene farm when he decided he'd had enough. He trusted Rick, he really did, but he couldn't take much more of the lot of them. The women cried all the time, all of them. They could be sitting around the campfire, talking about something completely irrelevant when all of a sudden Lori or Beth would take a shuddering breath and then the waterworks would start. Maggie was better, just the odd little fit here and there and she was usually quiet and quick.

Carol was the worst. She always seemed on the verge of tears. Her eyes were always glassy and every breath seemed ragged and shallow. But she was silent about it and that was the worst thing. It just hung in the air around her, never moving, never changing. He hardly spoke to her, but she lingered in the peripherals of his vision all the time, constantly haunting his thoughts.

He didn't want her on the bike with him, but truth was, she was the best option he had. They only had two cars, four of them in each, and with their slowly increasing supplies, there wasn't really room for her. He'd considered asking someone else, but the only other person he could probably tolerate for hours on end was T-Dog and the man was way too big to sit behind him on the Triumph.

She didn't even have to do anything as she sat behind him, shivering from the wind that whipped through the air as they made their way to God knows where. She never complained when she took a turn too fast, forcing her to clutch him so tight he could feel her fingers digging into his hips even through his clothes or when he jerked the bike to a stop and leapt off so suddenly she would stumble as she swung her leg over.

She hardly spoke to anyone. Lori, occassionally. But mainly about dinner and washing clothes, nothing of substance. He hadn't heard her voice properly since that night around the dying fire, when she called him Rick's henchman. He figured that this was some sort of depression, that Carol was on the verge of "opting out". He tried not to think about that bit too much. He couldn't stop her if she did. He wouldn't stop her. It wasn't his business.

But she was too much. They were all too much. They were travelling around aimlessly and it was driving him crazy. He worked better alone. He figured he didn't owe them anything. He'd done plenty.

Leaving unnoticed would hard. He'd been waiting for two days for the right time. He didn't want to tell them he was going, because it was bound to cause a scene. But he wanted them to know he left of his own accord, so they didn't think he was taken and tried to come looking for him. Not that they would find him, just as he was excellent at tracking, he was good at covering his tracks too. But as much he didn't want them around him anymore, he didn't want to see them hurt either.

He'd thought about telling her. Then he realised if he did tell her, it was almost as if he were asking her to come with him. He had thought about that. Maybe he could cope with just her. But then she would have expectations of him. He knew that what she had felt for him wasn't entirely platonic, not matter what he tried to tell himself, he wasn't an idiot. There was something about her, he didn't know what and he thought maybe he felt a little like she did too. Did. Not now. She clearly took his last words to her as a rejection. Now she probably thought he was a total ass.

Those words weren't a rejection. Not like she thought, anyway. She was saying things because she was scared and upset. They weren't right. It didn't matter what Rick did or didn't do, in the end. Not knowing that they were all infected didn't change anything at all. Sure, Rick was acting out of sorts, the man just killed his best friend. He'd been way too rational since he'd rolled up at the quarry way back in the summer and now the pressure was finally getting to him. If Rick wanted to be in charge, then making the hard decisions would be his to make and he had to man up to it.

"You can't just leave." She'd snuck up on him in the late afternoon sun, he was down by the river, just a hundred foot or so from their camp, washing up after his hunt. She was getting good at getting by unnoticed. Too good. He thought that when he was gone, perhaps the others would forget about her.

"I dunno what you're on about." He told her, turning his back to her to rinse his soapy arms in the rushing water. Not true of course, but he figured she was plucking at thin air. How could she know? He hadn't said anything.

"They need you, Daryl. Rick, he really needs your support right now. This group is falling apart and if you don't have Rick's back, we're all going to suffer." He turned back to her after a moment, she was standing just a few feet behind him, arms wrapped around her waist, clutching herself like she expected her body to fall apart at any moment.

"And there I was thinkin' you didn't want me to support him, y'know, on account of his lack o' honour and all." He spat the words out sarcastically and she recoiled as he stood up, brushing past her for his clean shirt.

"That -That wasn't how I meant to say it. I was trying -" She stuttered back at him but he didn't want to hear it. He was sick of this, sick of them all.

"Ya were just meddlin' with my head, as fuckin' usual!" He ripped the wet shirt over his head, throwing it in her direction. It landed on the toes of her shoes with a splat and she jumped away from it.

She turned her head away at the sight of his naked chest and he snorted at her.

"If it's me that's bothering you so much...I'll go. They need you. Don't leave because you can't stand being around me."

He laughed at her then, as he pulled on his clean shirt, buttoning it up quickly. "Ya sure do think a lot of ya self, that you think ya can bother me like that. You ain't my problem, you ain't my business."

She didn't flinch at that, but as her head turned back in his direction he could see fresh tears welling up.

"And anyway, what ya gonna do by yourself? Walker shows up, gonna cook it dinner an' hope it leaves ya alone?" He snorted at his own joke, unfunny as it was, because the idea of her out there by herself was absolutely ridiculous. He didn't think she'd ever taken out a Walker before. It would be suicidal. And then he realised, it was a suicidal idea.

She turned away then, walking back to camp as fast she could without tripping over the rocks that lay scattered everywhere. He picked up his knife in it's sheath and caught up with her quickly, grabbing her by the arm forcefully and she gasped at the tightness with which he held her as he spun her around, his face inches from hers.

"That what ya want, ain't it? An easy way out? Can put the blame on me when you're dead then, can'tcha?" She tried to pull away from him, silent once more, avoiding his eyes as she tried to get free of his vice-like grip. "You're a fuckin' coward." He growled at her, releasing her so violently that she stumbled backward, tripping on a stone and falling against a tree, catching herself just before she hit the forest floor.

He stormed off before she picked herself up, cursing to himself as he rampaged through their circle of tents and into his own.

He managed to avoid her the rest of the day. She sat at the river, doing their laundry and he kept busy across the camp, fixing new arrows for his bow. He'd overheard Lori talking to Rick in a whisper, concerned that something had happened to her. He was pretty sure Lori knew exactly what was wrong and deliberately spoke in earshot of him to get him to do something. What exactly, he didn't know. Fuck Lori Grimes. Another fucking busybody.

He chose to take the second watch that night. Nobody liked second watch because it was smack-bang in the middle of the night and meant that whoever did it got hardly any sleep. Still, tonight, he wouldn't care.

There was nothing to do on watch, just circle the area where their tents were set up occassionally and sit by the dying fire. He tried to avoid doing that though, it was far too easy to fall asleep in the deck chair, warmed by the dancing flames.

He was a little ways from the tents a couple of hours in, having spotted the tracks of a fox, checking to see where they'd lead off, when he heard the buzz of a zip being opened. He didn't think too much of it, it was usually one of the guys going to take a leak. A few seconds later he heard the rustling of leaves crunching underfoot and he pulled up from his crouch, coming nose to nose with Carol.

He took a step backwards and in the light of the fire he could just make out her shadowy face. It was an expression that he wasn't familiar with on her features, they were pulled into what he could only recognise as anger.

She raised her arm and for a split second he thought she was going to hit him but instead she pointed her finger and jabbed it into his chest. "You don't know anything." She whispered furiously, finger pressing so hard he was sure she would leave a mark. "You don't know what I'm thinking about. And you don't know what it's like to have nothing left."

"Oh, so you're the only poor fucker who lost anyone, huh?" He grabbed her wrist and pushed her hand away from him, taking a step around her.

"No, but you have no clue what it is like to lose a child. To spend her entire life trying to protect her from her father, who is supposed to love her and care about her and then when he's finally gone, to lose her to this! This fucking hell!" She surprised herself with the curse, he could tell. He didn't think he'd ever heard her swear before.

"Then maybe ya shoulda done a better fuckin' job in the first place." He snarled back at her, turning away from her to circle the camp again. It was a low blow, he knew, not a new one though. He just wanted to get away from her and if he had to use his words like a lethal weapon to get away he would.

He thought he had managed to shake her off and she would go back to bed, he didn't hear her behind him for several minutes. Then suddenly she came behind him, shoving him furiously, catching him off guard so he stumbled.

Before he could turn around to give her a mouthful she fled, running into the forest far faster than she should've been able to in the pitch dark. He briefly considered leaving her to it, but he figured the rest of them would have something if he didn't do anything to say. If she wanted to kill herself, so be it, but he wasn't going to take the blame for her.

It didn't take long to catch up with her, once he turned on the flashlight, her trail was obvious and eventually he could hear her panting a little up ahead and he flashed the light at her. She was bent over double, breathing heavily, sobbing. She pulled herself up when she saw him approach her, turning away and pressing her forehead against the nearest tree.

"She was the only thing I was good at." She cried at him. "I am nothing. And you, you made me think -"

"Think what? I didn't say shit to you. Just fuckin' assumin' all the damn time! You don't know me." Daryl struggled to keep his voice low, in case they caught the attention of anything lurking.

"You made me think you cared!" She hurled the words at him like knives. "I knew what I was, Daryl. I knew my place and then you go giving me flowers and stories and promises and get me believing that somebody other than Sophia thought I mattered!" She pushed herself from the tree and stalked up to him with great strides.

"Yeah, I promised she'd be alright an' she weren't. I fuckin' failed you both. You think I don't think about that all the damn time?" He could feel her breath on his face, he was so close to her now. She stiffened as he spat out the words, but she didn't move from her position.

Her mouth opened and shut like a goldfish and she was clearly dumbfounded with his last words. They stood there staring each other out for a moment and her breathing slowly regained regularity. He didn't know what he was thinking when he grabbed her suddenly, viciously almost, finger tips digging into the soft skin of her neck, closing the space between them and pressing his lips to hers.

She gave no response as he pushed her mouth open with his, forcing her tongue into her mouth and he pressed his fingers into her neck a little harder and that gave her the jolt she needed. For a brief moment she parted her lips to let him in, hand going to his shoulder to steady herself. Then as if she, realised who this was, she beat her fist against his shoulder, trying to force him from her.

Daryl didn't know what he was doing, but he didn't let up. Didn't she just say that she wanted this? That she wanted something? He dropped the flashlight in his other hand to bring it to her ass, pressing her to him and she gave up the fight then, her hand flattening from a fist to press against his neck. She kissed him back with fervour, moaning into his mouth as he pushed her against himself, hand massaging a rough rhythm into her ass.

It was enough to get him hard and her hand went to his crotch and he pulled his mouth away from her just to curse at her, pushing her back against the nearest tree so sharply that she banged her head, letting out a hiss of pain, biting down on his lip with enough force for the metallic tang of blood to hit his tongue.

She was scrabbling at his waistband, fumbling to get her hands inside his pants and she only pulled her hands away long enough for him to pull her shirt up over her head, throwing it to the floor. His hands went straight to her chest, roughly kneeding the flesh, thumbs pulling at her hardened nipples, whether from him or from the cold he neither knew nor cared.

She eventually managed to pull the buckle of his belt, yanking his pants down his thighs, allowing his erection to spring free and her hand immediately went to it, small, delicate fingers gripping his length firmly, moving up and down. It was all he could do to not come on the spot, it had been so long.

She wanted this, he knew. So she could fucking have it. He released her tits to tug on her jeans, they were far too big for her and slid to her ankles with a gentle pull and he pushed the crotch of her panties aside to slid his fingers into her slick folds. She was wet, undeniably so and she clenched around the invasion of his hand, so tight he had trouble manipulating the fingers inside her. His thoughts strayed how his dick would be able to fit inside her and it was a thought that would send him to the edge if he didn't act on it immediately.

He pulled her wet panties down, putting his hands to her hips and the bones jutted into his palms. She was so skinny he thought he could snap her. He shifted her hips upwards and she guided his dick into her and she moaned as he sank himself into her fully, without ceremony and with giving a shit about whether it would hurt. It couldn't have hurt that much however, considering she began bucking into him immediately and he held her down against the tree so that he could control the pace.

It didn't take long for him to reach the end of the line, thrusting into her tight, warm centre was a pleasure unlike any other and as he came to the last moment, he looked her in the eye for the first time since he pressed his lips against hers. Her eyes were wide and glassy, her skin streaked with tear tracks but her mouth quirked and he thought for one brief second that she was going to smile at him. The expression quickly turned into a grimace and suddenly she froze against him, ceasing her writhing and her hands turned to fists, hitting at his chest.

"Stop. Stop, Daryl." She mumbled against his mouth and he pulled away from her. "This is all wrong." Before he could even say a word, she pulled her jeans up hurriedly, clutching them closed with one hand as she ran off towards the distant light of the camp fire, not bothering to stop to pick up her discarded shirt.

He cursed as he watched her disappear among the trees, pulling his own pants up and retrieving the flashlight. His hand found her shirt next to it and he tucked it into his back pocket, taking his time to head back to the camp. She was already in her tent when he got there and he ignored her restrained sobs. He half expected himself to be ambushed by the others when he returned, her screaming that he had raped her or some shit. Truth was, he had no fucking clue what happened. She was fucking crazy. Maybe he was going crazy too.

He attempted to avoid her in the morning as they packed their things up for their next destination. She kept her head down and he thought she might insist on riding in one of the cars that day, but his heart sunk when he saw her already sitting on the bike, eyes downcast and hands folded into her lap. He tried to ignore her as he kicked up the engine and led the convoy out of there but it was pretty hard with her limbs winding themselves around his back and he didn't know if he was imagining it or not, but they seemed to be squeezing him even tighter with every mile they rode. He was definitely not imagining the hands that were inching their way under his shirt, fingertips resting on his bare skin and eventually he couldn't take it more. He took his hand from the handlebar and reached behind him to snatch her wrist from him and she sighed against his ear, settling it back onto his leather vest.

She was the one that pulled away from him. For all her talk about him letting her down, she was the one that was playing the games. He always thought her to be meek and blissfully submissive when it came to others, always bending to what they wanted rather than her own desires. He was wrong. She was devious and out to fuck with his head. One minute he couldn't stand to be near her and the next he hated to be parted from her. It had been like this for weeks and he was at the end of his tether.

She ignored him after that. As best as she could anyway. She still washed his clothes, made his dinner and rode the bike. But she went back to how she was before that night, detached and silent. The tears had disappeared though. Her eyes were vacant and cold. He could sense himself going the same way. His temper was short with everyone and he spent more and more time away from the camp, claiming to be hunting or scouting just to get away from them all. Get away from her. He could hear their hushed whispers, wondering what was wrong and he just wanted to fly back and smack them each in the face. He heard them whispering about Carol too. Lori hardly ever left her side, constantly fretting over the woman.

He was taking his last watch, the last one of the night and he fully intended on skipping out just before they all woke up and get the hell out there. His things were packed, except his tent and he would leave it behind, just so he didn't risk waking them too soon and there was a fight. He was itching for one really, dying to give someone a punch, to unleash his rage on something. It would be a stupid idea though and he vowed instead to find a bunch of Walkers to throw himself at, let them feel his blade instead.

He was sat at the fire when he heard the rustling of the tent and he knew without looking up that it was her. She was barefoot, clad only in an oversized shirt, one that looked suspiciously like his and she came towards him purposefully, a stride that was almost seductive. She stopped in front of him and he sat a little higher in the deck chair.

"Fuck off, Carol. I ain't got the patience to handle ya mind fuckin' tonight." He growled out the words in a whisper, the other tents were only a few feet away.

She sighed softly and took another step forward, her knees bumping his. "I'm sorry. For before. It wasn't that I didn't want to...it was just...unexpected. I do want to." She didn't look at him as she spoke, eyes fixed to some unknown spot behind him. Her hands went to the arms of the chair, steadying herself as she lifted her legs one at a time, straddling him on the chair. He pushed himself back involuntarily and he found himself unable to find the words to tell he to get off as her face lowered to his, lips pressing the softest flutter of a kiss to his lips. He finally found the strength to lift his arms up to her shoulders, trying to jerk her back, but she held firm, hands pressing to his cheeks holding him there as she finally brought her eyes to his, mouth pressing to his with more force, tongue probing to get his mouth to open to her.

He eventually submitted to her, although he wasn't entirely sure why. Well, he knew why, physically. She was grinding her pelvis into his lap and it took just seconds for him to get hard underneath her. It was a stupid idea to do this, he knew it. Once was fucking idiotic, twice was just plain insane. But he couldn't seem to stop himself from sliding his warm hands up her cool thighs, under the shirt that was definitely his to rest on her ass. She wasn't wearing anything under his shirt and it crossed his mind that she had planned this seduction, if it could be called that. The thought left him pretty quickly as she unzipped his pants and he lifted his hips up with her on top of him for her to pull them down a little, freeing his dick.

She settled herself over him quickly, sinking down on him in one movement and he had to press his face into her chest to stop the groan from escaping his lips. She was totally in control on this night. She bounced on him with purpose, determined to extract every last breath from him. His hands clutched whatever parts of her he could reach and even though she was definitely the one in charge, she seemed to give him whatever he wanted before he even knew he wanted it himself.

He could feel his orgasm brewing and he dragged her closer, so her chest pressed against his, slamming his mouth against her neck to lick and suck the salty, sweat-slicked skin, teeth pressing into her, knowing he would leave marks there. He let out a choked groan as he shot his load into her womb and she clenched herself around him, panting as she slowed her bucking against him.

Her mouth was pressed against his ear as he pressed another kiss to her neck and he found himself thinking that he would try to stay longer with the group, if her madness was coming to an end. But then her tongue flicked out across his earlobe, nipping at the skin lightly and she whispered the words that left him cold.

"I promise I'll give you whatever you want, just don't go." He froze against her neck for a moment, digesting her words. She didn't do this because she wanted him. She did this because this what she thought he wanted. He should've known she was capable of this kind of manipulation. She was married to Ed Peletier after all. She couldn't have survived that long with him without learning a few tricks on how to please him. She was treating sex like it was his drug, trying to turn him into an addict so he would stay for more. He wondered briefly if one of the others had put her up to it, because they all could sense his desire to break free.

She flinched, knowing she had said the wrong thing, although she pulled herself together quickly, trailing kisses along his jaw to his mouth. He pulled her away roughly by the chin, jerking her head back with such force that she gasped with pain.

"You fuckin' sly bitch." He spat out at her viciously and he let her go suddenly, as if she burnt him and she tumbled backwards onto the ground, kicking up dust as her lower half hit the dirt, exposed. He pulled up his pants as she scrambled up from the ground, slinging his crossbow over his chest. Fuck this, he was out of here.

The noise had disturbed some of the others and he ignored the shuffling in the tents as he stuck in his head in his own, yanking his one bag of belongings out. She was behind him now, tugging on his sleeve, tears falling once again for the first time since that the last time they had sex.

"No, Daryl, wait!" He shrugged her off, but she was persistant, both arms latching on to him. "It's not like that! Please!" She was pleading desperately as he made his way to his bike and she threw herself over the saddle as he climbed on, wedging herself between him and the handlebars.

"It's not because of them. Not just because of them. I don't know what else to do for you. Don't leave me." She murmured, hands fisting the front of his jacket. The others were awake now, weapons drawn as they approached, unsure of what was going on.

"I ain't your fuckin' toy. You ain't got no damn right to mess with my head! I can't stand the sight of you." He snarled at her and he raised his hand to push her off and he felt her flinch. She thought he was going to hit her. He made a noise of disgust and grabbed her by the shirt, gentler than he had been up until now and she relaxed her grip, sliding off the bike. Giving up.

He cranked the engine just as Rick came within touching distance and roared out of there before they could stop him. He didn't see her as she crumbled to her knees in the dirt.

He only got two miles or so down the road before he stopped. The rage had left him as quickly as it had come and now he allowed himself to think back on what had happened.

He was sure she would end it now he had gone. She said herself, she had nothing. She thought of him as something. He said she wasn't his responsibility, but he didn't know if that was true anymore. He did make her promises and tell her stories and bring her flowers. That meant something. It meant something to him when he did it, even if he pretended it didn't and it most definitely meant something to her.

Her last words to him came flooding to the forefront of his mind. Don't leave me. Not don't leave us. She was crazy. So was he. And every other goddamn idiot at that camp. They'd all done crazy things in this crazy world.

His body cranked the engine and got the bike moving before he even decided where he was going and before he knew it, he was back at the camp. Most of them were out and about, relief washing over their faces as he kicked the stand of the bike up and threw his bag to the floor.

Rick approached him first and he could already hear the thousand questions that the man wanted answering, but first he had something to finish.

"Where is she?" He asked, trying to keep his face neutral.

"Down by the river." Rick answered and he reached out and took Daryl by the arm. "There can't be any more of that, Daryl. She can't take it."

Daryl nodded once before shaking him off and ignoring the stares of the others as he made is way down the bank. Beth was with her and saw him first, eyes widening. He clicked his finger at her and gestured for her to head back to camp and she did so without question.

Carol looked up at sudden departure of the young girl and she did a double take once she clocked him.

He sat beside her and her eyes widened further, mouth open as if she were to speak.

"No more messin' about. No more talk about endin' it." He told her. His conditions for staying with the group. For staying with her. She nodded quickly, eager to show willing, eyes flooding with tears. "And no more cryin'. There's way too much fuckin' cryin' around here and it's drivin' me batshit crazy."

She let out a choked laugh at that, rubbing her eyes quickly with the back of her hand. She opened her mouth again and he already knew an apology was on the tip of her tongue.

"And don't say your sorry. I don't want to hear it. You ain't gonna hear it from me. Not for this."

She nodded once more and he stood up, satisfied that the matter was settled. He extended his hand to her, she took it and he pulled her upright. He watched her as they walked back to the camp silently. Her shoulders seemed to lift, as if her troubles had melted away somewhat. She was crazy. So was he. But that was alright.