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We Were Born to Die.


I didn’t see everyone properly until it was dark, spending most of the day with Beth, trying to get her to talk, stroking her hair.
And not to mention I had fallen asleep for a few hours, exhausted from the night before. Hershel had checked on his little girl a few times, but she was still a statue, unstaring, only blinking when it hurt too much.

“Thanks for watching her,” Maggie had drawled, a hint of a smile on her lips as I had woken up, back aching from the chair. “Shit, sorry.” She smiled wider, gesturing I go.

“I’ll watch her, you get summin’ to eat okay?” I nodded mutely, letting her have her mumsy moment and heading down the stairs.

People were spread around, Lori, Shane, Dale, Carl in the living room, Andrea looking solemn in the hallway and as I left the house determined to talk to Daryl, to make sure he was okay about Sophia, Carol came up to me.

I hadn’t spoken to her in a while, not since what had happened yesterday, and in truth not enough before then. I hadn’t tried to comfort her, hadn’t tried to help her.

I felt sick.

She looked exhausted, but offered me a small smile, “Can I talk to you quickly Ariella?” I nodded, following her outside, her face looking thinner, paler in the moonlight. She looked like a walking skeleton, like she was half on the way to becoming a Walker. I went to talk, my mouth flapping, no words. We sat down on the steps, my body tense but I put my hand on hers, her moving quickly and gripping it tightly.

“I don’t know what to do.” She muttered, her voice creaking, “I...I lost hope days ago, and to find out she was here, here all along. Waiting..but, she wasn’t mine.” Her voice broke, “She wasn’t my Sophia anymore, she wasn’t mine.” I had no idea what to say, there were no words I could say that would ever fix this, no-one could ever fix it.

I twisted slightly, pulling her closer to me, sobs instantly beginning to rake through her thin body and I could feel myself tear up.

I willed myself not to cry, but I could feel my stomach twisting, turning with guilt, making me feel sick.
She explained through her sobs that she didn’t blame me.

It made no difference.
I blamed me.

The others walked past us eventually, Shane and Lori earlier, looking like they were arguing further down the drive way, the look Lori shot us pained.
I’m sure she could never imagine losing Carl.

Dale lent a heavy hand on her shoulder, causing her to look up. The exhaustion and sobbing had sent her into a light slumber, causing my arm to go numb from her dead weight. I sighed, offering him a smile but gesturing for him to go, allowing Carol a few minutes to fully wake up. She looked dazed but I could see her eyes darken as the reality of it set in, reality was cruel, and back.

“Come on Carol,” I urged gently, standing and helping her up, the walk back towards the tents slow. My eyes between her and the sky, the stars, as always were brighter than I had seen them in a city, no pollution.

And as America, the world, continued to die they would only shine stronger.

“You going to Daryl’s tent?” I blinked at her shrugging,

“I need to talk to him, so for a bit...” I didn’t want to go into the RV and wake Glenn. I didn’t want to go into the RV and have to discuss last night with him.

How he had wanted to leave Randall there to be eaten.

It could wait until tomorrow, too much had happened the last couple of days.

“I spoke to Daryl earlier, before I came to you,” I turned, giving her a questioning look as she stopped, “He’s shutting himself off again, he’s been so much better since we got here.” I nodded, wetting my lips. “I know he feels like he let Sophia down.”

Even without speaking to him since the incident I knew that from our previous chats. I knew that because he was a good man.

“I know,” She sighed, “I know he didn’t mean what he said earlier.” This time I froze.
“What do you mean? What did he say?”

She began to explain, each word sinking a dagger deeper into me, causing my blood to boil, flame.

He didn’t care that we, I had gone after Hershel. He wasn’t a fucking ‘errand boy’ and he didn’t owe anyone anything.

Carol wasn’t his problem.
Sophia wasn’t his problem.

It got worse.
He basically told Carol it was her fault Sophia was gone, her fault she had gotten lost.
She was alone, scared, pathetic.
She was alone due to her own faults.

I turned from her, my mind working overtime, anger bubbling over coherent thoughts.
“Ariella?” She questioned her voice gentle, one hand limply grabbing at my fists.

How fucking dare he.

She let me storm off, watched me make my way to his tent, still apart from the others, even further this time, he had obviously moved it yesterday evening. I reached it quickly, feeling my pulse race as I roughly opened the door, clambering in. He was sitting on the camp-bed fiddling with some more arrows, carving them.

He looked up at me, his eyes narrow, “What?” He grumbled, almost smirking as I tore the knife and arrow from his hands, “What are you?”

And I slapped him hard around the face, the loud clap pleasing me.

“What the hell is that for?” He stood, but I continued to rain hits on his chest, hissing between my words.

“How dare you say that to Carol, how fucking dare you, you mean selfish fucking...” He grabbed my hands, wincing, my nails having caught his neck, beads of blood growing.
“Are you fucking mental girl?!”

“Are you?!” I spat, struggling against him, my face no doubt red. I probably looked deranged and I felt it.
“How could you say stuff like that to her, that was fucking despicable after what she had been through, you sadistic fucking arse!” I tore my hands from him, not giving him time to respond and leaving the tent, only making it a few steps before I was caught in his arms.

“Let go of me right now.” I demanded, my voice low, words slow, breathing heavy. Pushing his hands away until he did regretfully, his chest heaving as much as mine.

Not following me, but allowing me to take a few more wide steps before again stopping. Feeling the tears beginning to flow.

“Is that what you really think of her?” He didn’t answer and I spun again. “And, if it is...what the hell do you think of me about this all. The other night...you do think this is all my fault?”

He opened and closed his mouth mutely, “I just... how could you be so cruel Daryl, do you think that of everyone, that they deserve this, we’re all alone...do we all deserve that, did we all bring it upon our selves?!” I was talking through my teeth, my chest heaving, breathing aching, the tears making their way down my face.

“I’m...I’m...” I took a shaky regretful breath, “I can’t believe you would say that and...I am actually disgusted.” His face turned a darker shade of red, and I could see the hurt flash over it, sticking in his eyes. He stepped towards me and I took a step back.

Was I over reacting?
Or was there a truth in his words, mine that I was terrified of?
Was there no hope?

“Don’t touch me.” I turned from him, unwilling to see his expression and starting to the house, through the almost silent tents. I knew however far we were, however quiet I had tried to be that someone would have heard.

That someone was Carol, she was standing by the entrance to her and Andrea’s tent, lifting a hand to rest on my shoulder which I shook off, my walk turning to a run as I heard heavy footsteps, Daryl’s, following me.

I didn’t stop running at the house, needing to be somewhere cool, somewhere I could cry, let it out, hate him and hate myself. I barrelled into the kitchen, and into Maggie.

I opened my mouth to explain, finding her arms around me before I could, the sobs starting properly, everything released as tears into her shoulder. “Ariella, what in the hell is...” There was a knock on the door and she pushed me down into a chair, my sobbing now a sniffle, my thoughts now more twisted than ever.

“You ain’t coming in.” I heard her speaking, the front door slamming, her feet light as they returned to me, crouching beside me and in that moment cementing our friendship.

“Ya’ll come here sweetie.”


A couple of days passed and I hadn’t spoken to Daryl. He had tried to talk to me a couple of times, to explain it, but I wouldn’t let him.
Both because I was still mad at him and mad at myself.

Mad at him for what he said.
Mad at myself for how I reacted, how I pushed too far.

But what he said, had dared to say, to shout in her face was disgusting, and a part of me didn’t care how hurt he was.

I had kept busy mainly by helping Randall, bringing his food, checking how much movement in his leg with Hershel. Cooking with Patricia, cleaning. Keeping away from Daryl.

Randall seemed like a nice guy, he seemed open, honest. But his fate with the group still hung in the balance, and I knew it was more than likely he would have to leave, he would be dumped somewhere to fend for himself.
Just as long as he didn’t know where the farm was...Rick's catchphrase.

Beth was awake finally as well, but I was still worried about her, she was quiet, teary. Hershel wanted her to grieve, she needed too, it was the only healthy way to deal with this. And she wasn’t healthy, sinking fast into a depression. Not willing to eat properly or talk, not even to Maggie or her father.
Even the whole day Maggie and I spent sat with her, chatting, looking at pictures, both mine and theirs she had barely uttered a word.

The days were passing slowly, full of the chores, pointless talking. I had seemingly not qualified for any talks about future plans and aims, that was for Rick, Shane, occasionally Daryl although he had become a recluse again, spending a few days hunting out in the woodlands alone.

And I worried the whole time he was gone.

I sighed, leaning back slightly, my shorts undone, the roof of the RV hot as I thought.

Maggie was someone I had spent a lot of time with these last few days, she had told me what was up with Glenn, he had blamed his freezing up in town as her fault, he had realised he was scared of dying, of losing her.

It was actually really sweet when you thought about it, and they had made up, closer than ever which I was glad about. A happy Glenn made me feel a lot better.

My arm was healing fast as well, Hershel had checked the stitches and said another few days and they should be okay to remove, there would be scarring but nothing worse.
And there was no point worrying about a few scars nowardays.

He had also been asking me to get Daryl to come to him so he could check him out again, making sure he was healing well; I had asked him why he couldn’t just ask Daryl personally.

He had no reason; he was just trying to get us to talk. People had noticed that we weren’t speaking. Not that we had much beforehand, just had sex and argued.
There had been no hint of romance like there was with other couples, no cute moments.

No-one, well apart from Daryl, Carol, Maggie and Glenn...the latter of whom I already knew I could keep no secrets from, understood why I was so off with Daryl and anytime Carol spent near me was full of her trying to persuade me to talk to him.

According to her they had had a long chat after Maggie had sent him away from the house and he had apologised. Apparently that was enough for Carol.
I didn’t know what to think.

My opinion of him had changed so quickly, I couldn’t believe anyone would say that to Carol no matter how angry they were.

And I couldn’t believe either of our reactions.

“It was out of line.” I had stated once again earlier today, Maggie nodding, even though she was trying to get me to talk to him now.
Her and Glenn had formed some kind of double act and both had been trying to get me to acknowledge him for the last two days.

“I will talk to him when I want to! Seriously guys you guys are like a two headed monster.” I grinned, changing the tone, and hopefully the topic, “You guys are giving me major Turk and Carla feels.”

“Did you just use a scrubs analogy?” Glenn questioned, one eye-brow raised, he grinned and shook his head, “Man, I miss that show.”

“But season nine sucked.” I chipped in, happy that my plan had worked

“Never watched it,” Maggie said, gaining gasps from both myself and Glenn.
She laughed at the shock on our faces, “You city folk,” she mocked “Spending ya lives watching shit on the television.”
“Scrubs was not shit.”

While it was good to talk about others things,shows, actors, musicians, it always left the same question in my mind.
Did they make it?

I sighed again, shifting against the blanket, I was far too warm, Andrea sat under the umbrella in the shade, sharp eyes on the woodland. Maggie had insisted I take a break, I had been doing as much as possible the last few days.

I had to admit I was exhausted.

All of it to keep my mind off and avoid Daryl. Only the latter worked and I was currently baking on the RV roof, making casual chit chat with Andrea.

We were being much more civil with each other lately, although we both knew our loyalties lay with different men, hers with Shane and mine with Rick.
There was a storm brewing there, everyone knew it.

The only question was when was it going to happen?

The sun continued to beat on my face, and I made a mental note to try and secure another bath, the baby wipes, deodorant and dry-shampoo of the last few days didn’t make up for the heat, the amount of sweating.

I felt like I was cooking.

I sat up, pushing the sunglasses Maggie had leant me up my face, smiling as I saw her and Glenn walking across the closest field hand in hand. I was so jealous of how simple and easy their relationship had become. They argued of course but...they just fit so well together.
They made sense.

Daryl and I didn’t. We didn’t fit, I couldn’t deny the strong feelings but...it was something that would never have happened in any other situation.

I sighed once again, dragging myself to standing and grabbing the top borrowed, not that she had noticed, from Beth and tucking it in the waistband of my shorts. Calling a goodbye to Andrea as I made my way down the side of the RV and towards the small patch of trees by the barn, where Daryl’s tent was now, and where I knew he would be.

He caught sight of me as I approached and stood up, wearing his cleaner tank top, his body covered in a light layer of glimmering sweat, making me quickly wipe my face on the top as I came closer. Able to observe him, he looked tired, stressed.
The guilt hit me quickly and I felt terrible.

I should have given him a chance to explain, to explain myself.
He deserved that.

He opened his mouth to speak but I shook my head, stopping him and stepping forward, leaning up and pressing my lips quickly to his, pulling away and holding his eyes.

“We need to talk.”


Grrr >< have to update lol Got to know what happens next!

Gilyflower Gilyflower

Oh my God, those feels

ParisPaxadox ParisPaxadox
Looking forward to the next chapter :)
TSWilts TSWilts
I love it :-) :-) :-)
Ceeekes Ceeekes
Thankyouuu...and there are many far more naughty Norman Reedus stories out there ;) haha. And yeah, J.K is my queen (excluding the one true queen Dame Maggie Smith) Glad you're enjoying the story!