Title: Eaten Alive
Summary: He'd never belonged anywhere before but he'd found a place where he felt accepted. A place where people wanted him around and valued him. That's why it hurt so much when they threw it back in his face.
Notes: I had this idea and had to write it immediately.

Italics = Flashback.

He didn't have much. Not really.

He'd never been one to keep a lot of things. His childhood never gave him much and he quickly learnt that anything he had that he loved would be broken.

So he stopped getting attached to objects.

And eventually, he stopped getting attached to people.

It was easier to go through life never really connecting with people.

His old man was the one who taught him not to care. And Merle gave him enough of his unique brand of tough love to let him know that he cared, but he was never going to be able to be there for him.

And he never really made friends. He wasn't good at it.

Was awkward and too introverted to really make it work. Was too embarrassed to try hard.

But then everything changed and most people died.

And he and Merle tried. But Merle still couldn't stick around, even then.

And he was left alone with people he didn't know.

Even now, he still didn't know them. And they didn't know him.

He shoved the last clean shirt in his bag as a shadow was cast across his cell.

He could tell it was Rick without even looking.

"Daryl," he started. But Daryl wasn't going to listen.

And Rick knew. Knew that things had gone too far to just talk him round any more. He wouldn't listen.

He couldn't.

Because he'd believe him. Believe all the lies again and it'd hurt even more when he found out it was all untrue.

And beyond his cell, Daryl heard the fighting start again.

"I'm not going to let him leave." That was Carol.

"He's running away! That's a guilty conscience if ever I saw one." And that was Glenn.

And Rick was stood there. Hoping to stop him.

Wanting too, but not knowing how.

Because he didn't have the control any more. Couldn't make the call to stop Daryl going.

And too many people had said bad things. Hurtful things.

And this was his solution.

To take himself away.

It probably wouldn't be enough. Not for them.

They didn't trust him.

Thought he wanted to betray them.

And he didn't know how to do more. Didn't know how to show them.

He thought he'd done everything he could do to prove to them he was loyal.

It wasn't enough though.

He could never do enough.

He knew that now.

He looked down at his bag.

Everything stuffed into it.

One bag. That was all he'd take with him.

That, and his regrets.

When he'd clambered up to the top of the truck, walkers surrounding him, he didn't feel totally helpless.

In trouble, sure, but there was a part of him that never allowed him to give up.

Rick and the others were nearby and between them all, he was sure that there was still hope.

He couldn't see where he'd lost sight of the car the others were in after he'd had to make a dash for higher ground. But it wasn't far away.

So he didn't really know what to make of it when he heard the car drive off, tyres screeching.

he figured they'd try and draw some walkers away from him, so he started to use the gun stuffed in the waistband of his pants to get rid of some of the walkers.

And then he watched the car drive away.

And he stared after it for a moment, like he could make it come back for him.

But he couldn't hear it any more over the sound of the walkers.

They'd left him.

They'd actually left him.

He did his best to shrug it off.

Fought back against the onslaught of walkers.

He figured the best he'd be able to do was to kill as many as he could and then try and and get clear from the others, jump for it and run for it.

Maybe the others hadn't gone too far, trying to think of another plan to get back.

He looked at the wall where the car had disappeared behind. Imagined them not being that far from it.

The sound of gunfire from elsewhere bought him back to the present. He kept firing, his faith renewed with the assurance his people were coming back for him.

Daryl slung the bag over his shoulder.

His crossbow and quiver were somewhere else. They'd taken them from him earlier.

He wouldn't leave without them.

Things didn't sound any better below.

More people arguing now.

Glenn seemed to get a chorus of agreement at everything he said and Daryl wished he didn't have to go down there and through them all to get out.

He stared at the empty bed. Knew he wouldn't get the luxury of sleeping on one again.

He sniffed. Shuffled the bag on his shoulder before he turned towards the door.

His head low so he didn't have to look at Rick.

"Run," someone shouted and Daryl wasted no time in jumping off the truck and running over the bodies that littered the ground.

There were enough walkers by the truck for him to know he couldn't afford to slip up.

He had to be quick or his chance would go.

"Here," someone called and Daryl saw a different car being reversed towards him, stopping enough for him to jump in.

He didn't really think about who it was calling him.

But as the car started to speed away, Daryl looked to the driver and saw the guy he recognised from Woodbury.

"The hell?" Daryl muttered.

"You wanna be eaten?" Martinez responded. He got the car to the road, turned left and Daryl peered behind him, because that was the way Rick and the others had gone.

He looked for the car, but there was no sign of it.

They'd actually gone?

They hadn't been planning a rescue or anything.

They'd saved themselves and left him behind.

Martinez knew what he was looking for. "They didn't hang around," he informed Daryl, who shot him a harsh glance. "Your people suck."

"Fuck you," Daryl barked in defence of them.

"Whatever, man. They left you for dead."

Daryl tried to judge if it were worth jumping out the car, but Martinez was driving fast enough that he knew he'd fuck himself up badly. If he'd been wearing his jacket, maybe, it's protect him. But a vest wasn't going to cut it.

And they didn't stop.

Not until they arrived at a clearing where The Governor stood waiting.

Rick blocked his path.

"Please, Daryl."

Daryl flinched at the word, took a slight step away like Rick might try and touch him.

His whole posture was tense.

He wanted to get out.

He had the knife that they had forgotten about stashed in his cell and it was the only weapon he still had.

He gripped the handle tightly, scared what he might do if Rick wouldn't let him through.

He knew that he wouldn't look at Rick.

He made a promise to himself that it'd be easier if he didn't.

If he kept his gaze averted and Rick didn't say anything else.

Sighed and stepped aside.

And the arguing had quietened down, but he could hear people talking still, so he looked down and saw that nearly everyone seemed to be gathered still.

One of them noticed him and looked up and he ducked back. Heard them start to talk about him with renewed vigor.

And he stood there.

Feet of clay.

Too afraid to move.

At least until Rick's hand brushed against his arm and Daryl started towards the perch.

"What's this?" The Governor had his hand around Daryl's upper arm, pulling him out the car as he questioned Martinez. "I don't want prisoners." He removed Daryl's weapons, dropped them to the ground.

Martinez shrugged. "Saved his ass after his group left him for dead."

Daryl kept his mouth shut even though he wanted to defend himself from Martinez's words.

"Really?" The Governor said, turning to Daryl with a grin. "I'm sure you're grateful for that, right?"

Daryl didn't answer.

"Well, we have no use for him. We can let him go. Go tell the others we'll be leaving in 10 minutes."

Martinez nodded and headed off to as he was asked. It seemed like they were alone, but Daryl caught a glimpse of someone standing just to one side, gun trained on Daryl just in case.

"You can go. Just... on thing before you do. I want you to beg."

Daryl's reaction caused Phillips to laugh. "I do." He confessed, his hand coming down heavy onto Daryl's shoulder and he pushed him down, made him go to his knees. "Beg me. Beg me to spare your life."

"Fuck you," Daryl muttered, finally able to get the words out.

The Governor smirked. "Merle... he wouldn't beg. He was dying and he wouldn't beg. So I killed him. I let him come back and wait for you to find him. You liked that right." He could see the sting his words caused in Daryl's eyes. "So, I could do that for you too, if you'd like that. I could put a bullet right through your heart and let you wander around the earth. No one would kill you. Why waste the time on you. You'd walk around killing innocent people. Like your friends at the prison until eventually in years to come you just fell to pieces. All it takes to stop that Daryl, is a little humility. If your life is worth anything to you, if those people are, you'll do it for them."

Daryl breathed hard as The Governor took out his own gun, pointed it at Daryl's head.

"Beg, Daryl. Beg for your life. Beg for the life of Rick's baby." He was deadly serious now. No smile graced his lips in that cruel mocking way. He pulled the hammer back. "Beg."

Daryl panted in fear, the tears stung his eyes but he wouldn't let them fall. "Please?"

"Again."

"Please?" Daryl repeated, the word coming easier this time as the tears ran down his face. His head hung low as he spoke.

"Look at me when you say it."

And Daryl raised his head. Met the cold stare of The Governor.

And he saw him.

Saw him exposed and weak.

Saw his lack of worth.

"Please?" Daryl said

Daryl could barely hear the people over his own breathing.

He didn't want to go down there.

Didn't want to walk through those people.

He was always afraid of people.

Lots of people.

He never did good around them.

And all the were doing was looking at him, staring. Judging.

No, that was wrong. He'd been judged.

"Lock him up," someone shouted out over the din and he flinched at it, eyes hardened as he saw the older woman who'd clearly shouted that at him.

She shrunk back as his eyes bore into her and he remembered he was still clutching the knife tightly.

He was a wild animal and if they tried to corner him, he'd strike.

"We need to settle down," Daryl heard Hershel say.

No one listened to him.

He moved through the people wary.

Wished they'd all just go.

He was leaving. They got what they wanted.

Beth reached out for him, her hand clutching his arm that held the knife. "You can't go." She pleaded, eyes glassy with tears.

He used his other hand to remove her grip.

Said nothing.

He just moved on.

"You made it!" Carol greeted him with relief and he bristled as she threw her arms around him.

Unattached her and met her with a slight scowl. "What?" she asked, unsure of him.

"Nothin'. Jus don't need no fanfare. Course I made it back."

She wasn't the only one aware of his return and some of the others started to head towards him.

Just what he wanted to avoid.

He started to walk away from her, but she followed along beside him.

"We looked for you. Me and Rick."

"Yeah." Daryl muttered.

"Of course. We couldn't find any sign of you..."

"Daryl," Rick said, relief evident on his face. "What happened?"

"What after ya'll left me?"

Rick shot a slight look at Glenn, not said nothing. "We were coming back for you. We were always coming back."

"What? To pick up the leftovers? Thanks."

"How did you get out?"

"One of The Governor's men."

"He saved you?"

Daryl nodded.

"Why would he do that?" Maggie asked.

"Dunno."

"And... what, he just took you somewhere safe and let you go?"

"Pretty much."

"You're not hurt?" Carol asked.

Daryl shook his head.

"We should head inside," Rick said. "You should eat."

Daryl nodded and the group headed in. Wasn't until they were most of the way inside that Daryl heard Glenn mutter "If the Governor didn't already feed him."

Daryl's temper got the best of him. He wasn't in the mood for snide remarks. "What?"

"I'm sorry but am I the only one who thinks it's weird that The Governor just let him go? He killed his brother, Andrea."

"Milton," Michonne added.

"Right. And Daryl's just allowed to leave?"

"You want me dead?" Daryl argued.

"I wanna know why he didn't kill you," Glenn pushed.

"Why don't you ask him. I don't know what that psycho thinks."

"Really?"

Daryl let out a exasperated sigh and turned away from Glenn. "Hey, where are you going?" Glenn demanded.

"I was gonna wash the the blood and crap off o' me. That okay with you, Glenn?"

"Glenn?" Maggie whispered, holding his hand.

"This is the right thing." He assured her.

She nodded, passing the crossbow to Glenn. He held it out for Daryl to take. He looked at it blankly.

Pushed it away from him.

"Want my old one," he said quietly.

He heard some people mutter things.

Hurtful things.

He blanked them all.

He didn't need to hear it.

They walked to the cage where they stored the weapons.

Glenn handed Daryl the old crossbow. Put the new one back.

The others, the original group had followed them through.

Daryl threw the crossbow over his shoulder. It bounced against the backpack a little.

"You can't let this happen," Carl said, meeting eyes with his Father who was stood there as helplessly as the others, knowing nothing he said what change a thing.

Daryl heard the sound of Rick's footsteps as he walked away.

And others followed.

They didn't care enough to watch him go.

As long as he was gone.

That was all that mattered.

When Daryl had cleaned himself up, he figured most of the days troubles were behind him.

When he got back, he went to his cell to find Glenn in there.

"What the hell?" Daryl demanded.

But Glenn said nothing. Left Daryl's cell and headed down the stairs, Daryl following behind.

But it was like he walked into a trap. As everyone seemed to be together just beyond the cell block.

He saw Glenn move quickly to the weapons cage and close it.

And Daryl's eyes landed on his crossbow just inside.

He looked to someone to explain what was happening, his eyes falling to Rick.

Realising he had to say something, Rick looked deeply uncomfortable. "What happened with The Governor?"

Daryl was taken back with the bluntness. They didn't trust him? "He killed my brother and ya'll what, think I'm working with him?"

"No one is saying that..." Hershel started.

"No, they are. I am. Dozens of people from Woodbury are. If you can't explain yourself." Glenn said.

"I don't have to explain myself to you." Daryl replied.

"This is ridiculous. It's Daryl!" Carol said. "After everything he's done for us, we're going to accuse him of going against us?"

"What are we supposed to think?"

"You're supposed to trust him," Michonne said.

"He can't be trusted. He's Merle's brother. And Merle tortured me. Was going to kill me and Maggie..."

"But he didn't..." Rick started, but Glenn wasn't stopping.

"And he left us already. There's nothing tying him to us. He has no family here, no loyalty. Why shouldn't he try and save his own ass."

"Glenn, this is just..." Carol tried.

"No, he's right." Someone else added. "He was one of the people that attacked us at Woodbury."

"Saving Glenn and Maggie," Carol piped up.

"Glenn, stop. You're turning these people into a mob," Rick said, closing in on Glenn

"If he had nothing to hide, he'd just tell us what happened." Glenn said.

Rick knew he was losing control. he turned to Daryl, desperate. "Daryl, I'm begging you. Just tell us what happened. Please."

But he couldn't.

All he could do was turn and walk away from them, his own words haunting him with every step.

He was numb.

He felt like nothing could make him feel anything again.

He stood by Merle's bike, securing his crossbow onto it.

Then he could go.

He didn't know where. But it didn't really matter much.

He couldn't stay here.

And he had no one who he cared for any more, or who cared for him if he was honest.

But the honesty hurt.

He heard the door behind him open, but he didn't look behind him.

Didn't care who it was. What they wanted.

He couldn't dare to even think someone was going to try. He couldn't face those people again.

"Daryl?"

Rick's voice.

He ignored him, tried to start the bike but she wouldn't turn over.

He felt Rick's presence beside him, he must have worried that Daryl would just ride off, despite the fact the gate was still locked.

His hand was on him and Daryl ignored him still. Failed again to start the damn bike.

Rick pulled the bag from Daryl's back and he wanted to stop him, wanted to grab it back, but he didn't know who else was out there watching him. Was afraid to see.

And when Daryl didn't move from the bike, Rick came back and took his crossbow and quiver and then was pulling gently at him, until Daryl moved.

He was stood there, Rick in front of him and trying not to look at the man.

"You're not going anywhere alone." Rick whispered to him.

And Daryl dared to look at Rick then. To see if he meant it.

And he saw nothing but sincerity in his eyes.

"Rick?" Glenn's voice called out. He sounded confused and Rick directed Daryl to a car and opened the passenger door. "Wait here." he told him.

And Daryl did. Hearing everything.

Time to move on, Rick said.

The risk with him being there was greater.

That Glenn had becomes a leader to the others and he should be proud of that.

And then there were goodbyes. He started to listen to them. Heard his name mentioned a few times but they left him alone.

And above it all, he managed to hear Carol telling them 'I don't want him to be alone.'

And the drivers door opened and she sat in beside him.

Threw a bag in behind her seat and smiled at him.

"Where's Rick?" Daryl asked.

"He's taking another car. Couldn't all get in one."

"All?"

"Carl, Judith. Michonne.

Daryl shook his head. "Ya'll should stay here," he protested.

"No one's making us leave. We choose to go. We chose you."

Daryl didn't say anything. Just sat there knowing he'd die for these people if he had too.

And he didn't say anything when Carol reached out and held onto his trembling hand.

When they'd finished all that needed to be said, Rick came to Carol's window and she wound it down.

"Right. Let's head North."

"North?" Carol repeated and Rick shrugged. It was vague but it was something and she nodded. "Rick," she said, stopping him before he walked away. "Thank you."

Rick nodded. "It's what we do."

~Fini~

A/N: I know this may seem out of character for Glenn. He has his reasons for what he does but it wasn't really the story I was telling. This is Daryl's story. So Glenn is kind of an arsehole in it, but believe me that Glenn feels his reasons for what he's doing is justified.