An annoying noise forced you to briefly open you eyes. Someone put you against a wall and a voice boomed in your ears even though it was still far away. You still couldn't concentrate on words. Your fists closed, it was an involuntary spasm. The stranger must have touched one of the wounds. You also thought you heard your name, wanted you to stay conscious. You weren't allowed to lose your senses again, not in this situation. So you slowly tried to open your eyelids again, but everything was blurry, opaque. You saw thin, dirty hands and felt your wounded leg. The person tied a rag firmly over the wound, slowing the blood flow. He helped you, he wasn't an enemy. Long, but tiny fingers. A woman.

"Y/N, let's go!", the woman urged: "Stay awake! Can you hear me?"

She put her hands on your face and picked it up so you could see her. You just saw a brown spot blurry. Her face was covered with mud and blood. You tried to concentrate, however difficult it was. You saw the blue of her eyes, the pronounced cheekbones, and the short hair. Carol... Carol took care of you. She had taken you directly to the slaughterhouse and went with you shortly afterwards to the warehouse which you wanted to reach. Your eyes became clearer and finally you could see the whole scene clearly. She reached with her fingers for the projectile in your shoulder and looked at you determined.

"You have to be strong now.", she said and before you could say anything or even realize this action she tore the bullet out. The pain that overwhelmed you was terrible, but you didn't scream.

"It's not serious, but we need to clean both wounds as soon as possible.", Carol reassured you: "There's a muscle destroyed in your thigh, I think you'll limp for months..."

You thanked her with your eyes and she nodded, and shortly afterwards you reached out your arm.

"It was you, right?", you asked. She smiled at you and confirmed your hypothesis.

"You have a fever and are pale. You lost a lot of blood... I'm not sure if you can reach the forest..."

Her objectivity was like a punch in your face, but she wasn't good at giving false hope. You swallowed and actually felt your total weakness. But you wouldn't give up. So you hobbled to the table and masked the pain of each step. You took your backpack and stuffed it with ammunition, which didn't make Carol suspicious. On her shoulder you saw Daryl's crossbow. This bastard was really lucky, in one way or another, his weapon kept coming back to him. You looked out the window and watched the chaos outside.

"Do you have a plan?", you asked. She loaded a weapon, a semi-automatic rifle.

"We're going to the back, the snipers are all busy on the other side, let's take care of those on the ground, there are many, but we shouldn't have any problems."

You agreed, the clearing was the only way to reach the others. You opened the door, threw yourselves into the area, although the pain grew stronger and crouched behind a wall. The original idea had already taken a different turn. It was impossible to cross the area without cover. And so you scanned the place with your eyes. One of you could easily reach the side exit while the other had gone down an alley and was forced to climb over the fence. This would have to happen quickly and close the doors, attracting the bulk of the walkers so that the second person can cross the area almost undisturbed.

"We have to split up!", you said aloud: "I will try to cover you and as soon as you are behind the fence, I will find another exit."

She studied the area and focused on the possible scene. She knew there were no other solutions.

"But if you take the alley, I can not support you anymore!", she said to you and seemed horrified.

"I know.", you replied: "Do not think about it, the others will be happy to know you're alive!"

These were your words and so you leaned forward and fired. Carol looked at you disapprovingly. You started shooting again, avoiding that she could repeat or formulate a second suggestion. You fired at these bastards, destroyed their brains, and Carol moved under these risen monsters. As soon as she had closed the gate, the crowd of the living dead surged as expected. After a quick look between you, you also went your way and heard shots behind you. You entered the alley, fortunately empty, and went through others. It seemed to you that you had arrived at the building where Gareth and his men had directed you to the wagon. At the end you found yourself in front of another huge open space, which was also decorated with corpses that went their way. You hid behind the wagons and searched the fence for an open spot. You had to go out as soon as possible, your body gave up and you were getting weaker and weaker. To finally escape, you tore open a part of the lower, damaged fence. But you had to move on and so you clung to a tree and ran. You wanted to be as far away as possible. This place was hell, you wouldn't have risked being captured a second time. It didn't matter if you fell to the ground or if you lost your senses, it was more important for you to save yourself. When you turned around, you noticed the same place where you had hidden the bag. But as you continued on your way to finally reach the others, you were pushed back.

"Why the hell 'nd for what fuckin' reason have ya' gone back?", Daryl barked, not giving up the grip as he squeezed your throat to the ground.

You tried to escape his grip and he tore your backpack away.

"Somethin' 'bout that?", he asked angrily: "Answer me!"

"I don't expect you to understand it."

He opened the backpack and dumped the contents on the ground in the mud. The first things that fell were your equipment and other weapons, including ammunition and the notebook. He began to dig between these objects and shook his head. He knew that because of ammunition you couldn't go back, there had to be something else.

"Ya' 're stupid, dammit, I'm tired of seein' ya' put yerself in harm's way!", he shouted.

"Go to hell Daryl!"

He reached for the notebook. "Look at ya'!", he spat angrily: "How can ya' even believe what ya' 're talkin' 'bout?"

He quickly flipped through the pages, scanned them and did not understand what this trivial object might mean.

"What's that bullshit?", he asked, more angry than before: "Ya' came back for a stupid piece of paper! Ya' want to die? Is that what ya' want? 'Cause it doesn't make sense!"

He reached the last pages and noticed the other kind of ink. You opened your mouth and hoped he wouldn't read it.

"Do not pretend that you're interested!", you grumbled.

"I take care of ya'!", he growled and you looked at him in confusion. He showed his concern. You bowed your head, feeling discouraged.

"If ya' want to commit suicide again, tell me! At least then I'll avoid wastin' ammo!"

"I don't need your help at all, or your misgivings, if I make you angry, just avoid me. Screaming at me does not change the situation. And now give me back my stuff, asshole."

He approached nervously and made you withdraw so far that you collided with a tree.

"That ya' 've done it so far has only worked 'cause ya' 've always had someone behin' ya'. Otherwise ya'd be dead for a long time.", he said, slapping the notebook on your chest and hating you with his eyes.

You dropped to your knees, bent over your backpack and threw everything in, including the notebook.

"Shut your fucking mouth!", you shouted: "You know nothing!"

"I don't think ya' even understood the situation!"

You turned around. You were tired of hearing his words. "Accept it or not. I can take care of myself."

He pulled you up and grabbed your arm.

"Really?", he asked ironically: "And yer leg 'nd the shoulder?"

"Do you like treating me that way, or is it self-evident for you?", you replied, smiling at him defiantly.

He then brought his face close to you and entered your personal space. You felt his altered breathing, his anger and crystalline eyes continued to hate you. Then he touched your cheek and whispered something in your ear. You felt unwell. So much so that you blushed.

"Fuck ya'.", he hissed. You moved away from his face and hobbled around among the trees in the direction of the group. Daryl returned, however, to continue blaming you, as you expected.

"Something's wrong...", you shuddered.

"Maybe yer damn brain finally understood the situation!", he objected.

"I've lost too much blood...", you said, looking at the blood that ran out of your wounds again...

~

Then everything was white. A flawless white. There was only this color. An infinite and luminous space. Maybe you were dead. You took a few steps, there was no noise in this place. You checked your body and there was no wound. You tried to remember what had happened, and slowly the memory returned, leading you to Terminus, the escape, and Daryl. You could move your leg well... Either you were dreaming or you were really dead. There weren't many alternatives. If this was life after death, it was rather boring and monochrome. You went on without cause, as if hoping to meet something or someone. In the distance, you noticed a shadow, a figure, and you found yourself in front of a man. A plaid shirt, red and black... You knew who it was and then he turned around and smiled at you.

"Y/N, don't give up."

"What? Where am I?"

His eyes were empty... "Damn, why did you do that?"

You didn't understand it, his answers weren't relevant to your questions.

"I went back because of you, because of the notebook..."

The ground vibrated and changed its appearance and the whole atmosphere. When everything materialized, you realized that you were in the flowery field right where he had kissed you and where he had been murdered. The same one where you both buried Hershel and where you had been abused. The same damn field. You knew that you weren't talking to your former buddy and not to his spirit. Maybe it was a hallucination...

"Why are you thinking of those who are no longer alive?", he asked you. But you didn't answer and waited for an explanation.

"You should think about the people you have now, worrying about who you lost makes no sense! When will you finally understand? When will you understand that you can't risk your life?"

"I'm sorry...", you said with tears in your eyes. You approached him again, but as far as you went, you couldn't reach him. You started to get desperate. Everything was so strange and depressing.

"I'm not the person you need anyway...", he said sadly and you tried to pick up a flower, but your hand went through it, almost like a hologram.

"Please... Don't say that bullshit... What kind of place is that, tell me...", you said but his forehead suddenly began to bleed, the bullet hole appeared and he turned around.

"Don't go away again...", you begged him, but he didn't follow your request, on the contrary, he walked away slowly and was getting smaller in your eyes.

"No!", you screamed and all around it became white as in the beginning, but you didn't give up and ran, fooling yourself that you would reach him this time, that you wouldn't have lost him this time. For some strange reason, your steps took effect.

"No!", you shouted again and grabbed his shoulder. But when he turned around, only a blinding light hit your eyes.

~

It was like coming out of the sea again when there is no more oxygen. The light was slowly darkening until you could understand where you were. Walls, furniture, a roof, a comfortable bed. A house. A safe place. You're alive. A clear glow from the window was typical of the early morning. You tried to get up and sat up to understand more. When you tried, the bed creaked.

"Y/N!", a voice shouted: "God, you're awake!"

Sam's face appeared with a big smile.

"What the hell happened?", you asked, seeing an infusion bag that was now empty.

"Saline.", he explained, noting your questioning face: "To keep you from drying out, you'll probably feel a bit confused... We had to bombard you with painkillers. And every time we tried to sew the wounds you have convulsed and have had a seizure. You were in this condition for two days..."

"Where are we?"

"It's a church.", he replied quickly: "A priest is hosting us, it's not much, but better than nothing. We've already barricaded the exterior, for now it's safe, after this woman has saved us, we have met other people. Sasha's brother, and he had a baby with him."

"Judith? Rick's daughter?", you asked.

He nodded. You smiled and dropped into the blanket. Then your mind suddenly projected the image of Beth.

"Beth! Beth is missing."

"Yes, I'm sorry, she was there, too!", he said, rubbing his neck in embarrassment: "I couldn't remember the name."

You looked at him apathetically and felt a bit strange, weak.

"By the way.", Sam said and looked at the leg: "It would be better if we change the bandage."

He lifted the blanket and you realized that you were underneath only in your underwear.

"What the hell am I doing in my underwear? Where's my pants?", you asked in shock.

"We had to take her off, you were soaked with mud and blood, the wound threatened to get an infection."

"Who are 'WE'?", you shouted at him. He sat down beside the bed, disbelieving from your reaction.

"Yes, we. Daryl helped."

You shook your head and rejected those words. Nevertheless, you reassured him. He then told you how they had come to church as they had met Father Gabriel. Glenn, Maggie, Eugene, Rosita and Abraham had gone to Washington together. Rick wasn't happy anyway.

"I can not imagine you and Daryl getting along.", you said and he shrugged.

"Since it was you, he fought."

"It can't be, there's nothing going on between us and I've told you that before."

He threw away the old bandages.

"From whom? From you or from him?", he chuckled.

"Bullshit! If that leg hadn't been, I'd kick your damn ass anyway."

He turned to you, confused.

"I asked you not to tell the others, instead you immediately told Dixon that I went back to get something."

He looked down and apologized.

"Well, he threatened me, you know how..."

Yes, you knew what he was like. Because of that, you couldn't get angry at Sam. He had tried. That was enough for you. Right now it was important to you that you were all united again. Fate had been favorable. And then you thought about Daryl, about the scene in the forest.

"That fucking asshole...", you thought aloud.

"That asshole was near you all the time, and I'd swear you were whispering things."

You sat down and rubbed your temples. What he said made no sense. Daryl wasn't that type of person.

"Then you started talking about a man.", he said: "Don't get me wrong, but what's the real situation? Do you have a boyfriend and he's jealous?"

You looked at him in horror and Sam immediately shut his mouth. The door opened and you both turned in that direction. Daryl stood at the entrance, as if surprised to see you awake. There was a strange feeling of embarrassment in the air. Sam then said goodbye and reluctantly left you both behind. But the archer didn't approach and stopped at the door.

"I washed yer backpack. It's full of mud. Carol didn't know ya' 're goin' away from the group, 'nd Sam didn't told me the reason."

"What did you tell them?", you asked, looking down at the floor as he looked out the window.

"Ya' 're lookin' for the armory."

You didn't add something anymore, just staring at him with a mixture of hate and gratitude. You no longer knew how to act towards him.

"Listen.", he said shortly after: "I'm sorry."

And those words provoked in you a series of lightning bolts that sent you into the kind of dream that woke you up. If what Sam had said was true, then those words were nothing but what your brain heard while you slept. Because you haven't heard your former buddy. You heard Daryl...