CHAPTER TWENTY,
why?

THE SIGHT OF Daryl's body dropping after that gunshot made Samantha's heart plummet.

Her bitterness against any religion was being replaced by a frantic desperation that cried from inside of her. She prayed to any God that was listening to her, hurrying towards his limp body and asking for a single miracle in her twenty years of life - please don't be dead, please don't let him be dead.

Her fingers were coated in blood, and pulling them away from the side of his head, relief flooded throughout her being and brought a smile to her lips.

"He was only grazed." She rejoiced, her voice causing his mossy blue eyes to flutter open and stare directly into her greens.

He was pulled from her grasp as Shane and Rick helped him to his feet, the hunter falling in and out of consciousness.

"I was only kiddin'." His southern voice was barely audible, but she had heard it and it caused a small laugh to escape her lips - but any other future laughter ceased at the sound of rushed footsteps, the sight of Andrea and Dale hurrying towards them making a cold realization strike through the young woman, but the coldness melted as a burning rage coursed throughout her whole body.

Andrea shot Daryl - he could've died because of her.

Samantha stormed past her brother and Rick, her blood pumping through her veins and muffling out the confused calls of the men behind her - she could only focus on the setting anger, and the stupid blond. She was crying, but the Samantha was going to give her another reason to cry.

"Oh my god! Oh my god!" Andrea sobbed profusely. "Is he dead?"

Samantha stomped towards her, and before she knew it - a familiar pain blazed up her arm but the satisfaction of watching Andrea fall to the ground was enough to ignore it. "No thanks to you, you dumb bitch!" She bellowed. "Why won't you fucking listen?!"

"Sammy!" Both Rick and Shane chorused, the thunderous woman launching her fist to throw another punch but T-Dog was faster, snaking an arm around her waist and lifting her from the ground and away from Andrea. "Calm down!" T-Dog yelled over her shouts as she struggled against his tight hold.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" Samantha continued, trying to claw out of T-Dog's grip. "We had this! You could've attracted walkers from miles-"

"Samantha, enough!" Rick boomed. "Kill her later. Right now Daryl needs care."

The young woman glared at the bleeding blonde before obliging the leader's order. T-Dog hesitantly let go of Samantha. "You good?" He questioned yet she barely nodded. The heat was still in her veins, the flame in her still alive, and she wanted nothing but to go off on Andrea - but Daryl was more important.

"He's wearing ears!" Glenn gasped, gesturing towards the necklace of walker ears that ringed around the hunter's neck. Rick was quick to jerk it off.

He dropped the ears to the fields. "Let's keep that to ourselves." Rick muttered.

"Guys," T-Dog's voice reached their ears and they turned, a familiar doll being held up in his hands. "Wasn't this Sophia's?"

The sight of the ragged doll made Samantha's stomach twist, knowing damn well that it belonged to Sophia - and Daryl had found it. They were getting closer and closer to the little girl by the day.

The survivors continued to the farmhouse, and seeing Hershel's sharp eyes Samantha averted her gaze, remembering their conversation from earlier and it filled her with guilt.

"You're using guns?" He demanded.

"It was because of someone's stupidity." Samantha stated, sending a glare to Andrea.

"I thought he was a walker!" She defended, wiping the blood from under her nose.

Samantha scoffed. "Maybe next time I'll think you're a walker too." She fired back.

Her big brother grabbed her forearm. "Samantha, shut up." Shane snapped, and his baby sister rolled her eyes.

The group brought Daryl inside and after a few moments he was finally awake, questions immediately hitting him as soon as his eyes opened.

"I found it washed up on the creek bed right there," Daryl grunted as Hershel checked his wounds. "She must have dropped it crossin' there somewhere."

Rick glanced at the Walsh siblings. "Cuts the grid almost in half." He stated.

"Yeah, you're welcome." Daryl sassed gruffly.

Samantha leaned against the dresser, her arms crossed and her eyes ranking the hunter up and down, her eyes unknowingly burning into his skin. "How's he looking?" She questioned.

"You tell me, you won't stop lookin' at me." Daryl muttered.

Samantha scoffed. "It's because you look like shit." She quipped effortlessly.

"I had no idea we'd be going through the antibiotics so quickly," Hershel's statement made Samantha feel a flutter of guilt, and telling by Rick's expression - she wasn't the only one. "Any idea what happened to my horse?"

"Yeah, the one who almost killed me? If it's smart, it left the country."

"Her name is Nelly." Samantha corrected quietly. She had learned of Nelly's backstory, and honestly it was a tragic one. Hershel had found her half dead as a baby and nursed her back to help, which explains why she's spooked so easily.

"As in Nervous Nelly," Hershel added, wiping his hands with a rag. "I could have told you she'd throw you if you'd bothered to ask. It's a wonder you people have survived this long."

"Believe me, with some of the stupid shit we do," Samantha thought back to Andrea mistaking Daryl as a walker and she pushed back the lingering anger. "I'm surprised too."

The room emptied all but Samantha. Daryl could feel her eyes taking in every detail of the dirt and wounds that layered his skin, her eyes soft - too soft for his personal liking. He shifted uncomfortably in his spot and hid it behind a glare. "Wha'?" He forced out.

"You look like shit."

Daryl rolled his eyes. "You already said that."

She brought her bottom lip in between her teeth. "Because it's true," Samantha paused, remembering the ears. "What happened out there?"

The concern that laced her voice only made Daryl angry. "It ain't none of your concern," He retorted. "I don't need your cradlin', woman."

"Jesus, do you really think of yourself so lowly?" She hissed, storming to him with her pretty features twisting angrily. "I seriously thought you were dead, gone - I made Andrea bleed for you," She turned her back, her shoulders tense as she walked to the bedroom door. "So swallow up your pride and stop acting like such a cold hearted bitch."

The closing of her door and the echoing of her words made Daryl Dixon completely silent.

━━━━━

That night dinner was completely awkward. Not only was everyone all crowded together, but the silence had become too unbearable for Samantha. Glenn was sitting with Hershel's children, and he decided it was a good idea to break the quiet air.

"Does anybody know how to play guitar?" He questioned, a small grin tugging at his lips. "Dale found a cool one. Somebody's got to know how to play."

Shane glanced at his baby sister then back at the Korean. "Sam thought she was the next Eddie Halen."

She felt her cheeks heat up. "Shane." Samantha pleaded, the embarrassment of her middle school years physically hurting her.

"Didn't you want to make a band?" Rick chimed, eyebrows raised in amusement at the deepening blush on the young woman's skin.

"So you know how to play?" Glenn asked excitedly.

Samantha smiled, and nodded her head - yet another voice spoke up, her grief strain making all amusement and smiles to drop instantly. "Otis did, too." Patricia informed with a crack to her voice.

Oh, god.

From her peripheral vision, the brunette saw Shane shift uncomfortably in his seat. She frowned and grabbed his arm, assuring him silently that he was far from being alone - and her brother sent her a thankful nod, her expression making a small bubble of guilt and fear twist his insides. He was so afraid of her finding out the truth, of her looking at him differently.

"Yes, and he was very good too." Hershel added, but this barely helped as the tears streamed down the widower's cheeks. Samantha took this as her cue to leave.

Upon going outside into the twilight, she saw a silhouette sitting on the porch and gazing up to the sky. The sight of Nathan made her smile, and she took a seat next to him. The stars were bright tonight, and they were staring at the two best friends. "Where were you?"

He was silent for a moment. "Exploring."

Samantha giggled. "What are you, Dora?" Then she rubbed her shoulder against his. "Can I be your boots?"

Nathan rolled his eyes, not denying the ghost of a smile on his lips. "I went to that cabin Jimmy was talking about," He explained, his eyes never leaving the inky sky. "It was untouched. I thought I would've found Sophia, but instead I found something else..."

Samantha frowned and looked at him - but his face was hard, blocking her out from reading what was truly going on. "Like?" She pressed.

"I found a family there," He paused for a second, his tongue swiping on his bottom lip. "I had to bury them."

Samantha placed a hand over her mouth. "Oh my, god. I'm so sorry."

He shrugged, as if it didn't matter to him. "Can't save everybody."

That was a very uncharacteristic thing to say. "We can try." Samantha said.

And then Nathan finally looked at her, his grey eyes appearing steel under the moonlight. "Remember what Jenner said, back at the CDC?" When his best friend shook his head, he sighed. "He said that we were the virus, and I didn't understand that at first - but now I do. It's completely hopeless."

"Where there's life, there's hope." Samantha reasoned.

"Where there's life, there's destruction," He contradicted, making Samantha's word stagger. Jenner had said the same thing - a completely desensitized scientist, and Nathan was quoting him. "I've seen bloodshed, I've seen war, Ive seen so much hate in this world - yet you still think we don't deserve this?" Heat made her way into her blood stream and she turned away from him, angry that she couldn't change his mind.

"I saw you reading that Dante book," Nathan continued. "I read it awhile back - and I feel like we're in that situation right now. We're descending-"

She turned back to him, her glare sharp. "I don't need your crazy religious theories right now," She said through gritted teeth, her eyes snapping to the scars on his arms. They reminded her of Dale's words, but before she could inspect them further Nathan hid them away. "What happened right there?"

"Nothing."

"Liar," Samantha stated, green clashing with piercing grey. "What happened with Otis? Please, tell me."

"Shane already explained."

Samantha didn't notice the way his voice lowered, the anger fuming through him so much that his ears were practically steaming.

"I wanna hear it from you-" She pressed, but her voice was cut off by his voice snapping.

"Can you please just shut the fuck up?"

Her mouth hung open, finally acknowledging all the red flags on his features. His face visibly darkened, and the way Nathan was looking at her - it caught her off guard, an uneasiness rising from the pits of her stomach.

"Stop asking questions, none of it is your goddamned business," His jaw had been clenched so hard she was surprised it hadn't snapped yet. Nathan stood up, his erratic movements unnerving the woman. "Goodnight, Samantha."

His absence made Samantha's head fall into her hands, cursing and rebuking at herself for being so stupid and inconsiderate. Death was something not to be pushed - and what happened to Otis, she definitely should thought before speaking. She was too impulsive, too selfish. She deserved his outburst.

But then Dale's accusations disguised as concerns were back in her head again, and he kept repeating himself over and over again - making Samantha question what really happen that night too.

━━━━━

She came in after Carol left, and for some reason - Daryl Dixon had expected this.

The younger Walsh sibling sat at the chair close to the window, the moon reflecting off of her eyes. This was the first time she has ever been so quiet around him, and Daryl couldn't decide if he liked her quietness or not.

"I made Andrea bleed for you."

Carol had confirmed that what Samantha had said, was indeed true. She had became angry for him.

Why?

Daryl felt pathetic for questioning her actions. She was a reckless girl after all, but she had been reckless for him.

Why?

Samantha Walsh was like a plague he couldn't hide from, every time he thought he found a cure she was up his ass again.

Why?

She kept trying to prove herself to him, prove something about him when no one else did.

Why?

Daryl doesn't like the way Samantha looks at him, he doesn't like the way she thinks of him so highly. He doesn't need friends - he doesn't need anybody to worry about.

"You're nothing but a freak to them,"

Daryl clenched his jaw, his mind going back to those woods, to those words that Merle had said. They jabbed and stabbed at him.

"Why are you 'ere." Daryl demanded.

Samantha finally looked at him, her eyes so different from those of her brother's. "Because I wanted to be." She answered.

"Why?" He blurted out, his cold glare like ice against her soft features.

"You seem like a good person." Samantha responded, the corners of her mouth twitching upwards. This hit Daryl, because the way she said it - she actually believed it.

"Im doing mighty fine without your opinions." The redneck scoffed.

Her laugh met his ears and he looked at her, but she was already doing the same thing. The way she was studying him made him feel subconscious - it was as if she was looking right through him, as if she knew who he was.

But she didn't, she doesn't know who he is, she didn't know the many times his father broke bruises onto him, the repulsive looks of people that didn't grow from the same roots as him - she'll never know.

Samantha abruptly stood up and moved to the side of the bed. "Scoot."

He stared at her in confusion. " 'cuse me?"

"Scoot." She repeated more firmly.

With slight hesitation, he scooted to the far end of the bed, watching silently as she sat against the bed frame and propped one leg over the other. Then suddenly, she pulled out what appeared to be a blunt, lighting it up.

There was a blissful grin crowning her face. "I forgot I had this," She sighed, giving it a long drag and letting a cough escape her lips. "Want some?" She was being so causal about it, as if they were old friends.

Hershel didn't give him anything to relieve him from the pain of his wounds. "Sure." He muttered, taking it from her fingers and ignoring the brief contact they made, breathing in the fumes and coughing out a puff of smoke. A familiar sense started to hit him almost instantly, and as time went on he felt his anxieties become relaxed.

"Merle gave that to me," The way Samantha said his name confused her, because no one had ever said Merle's name with such compassion before. But what even confused the redneck even more was that Merle have his goods to her - he was never the one to share, not even with Daryl, so why her? "I didn't sleep with him, if that's what you're thinking," Samantha had noticed the look on the Daryl's face. "Believe it or not, I considered him a friend,"

Merle didn't have any friends Daryl wanted to correct her. He only had enemies, and that was as close as to being a friend he was going to get.

Samantha took a hit. "We used to get high all the time," She added, and he could feel her stare on his face, it creating red to paint on his cheeks. "He talked about you, a lot."

"Me?" Daryl was in disbelief.

"He might've been a hard ass, but he loved you."

"Redneck trash. That's all you are. They're laughing at you behind your back. You know that don't you."

"Funny, he had a hard time showin' it." He muttered, his tone laced of bitterness. Daryl thought she didn't hear him, but by the way her eyebrows furrowed, she did.

Samantha gazed at him, as if he were nothing but a puzzle and she was trying to piece him together. It was foreign to him.

"What happened out there?" She questioned softly, that same, genuine concern flashing on her features and causing more anger to bloom and seethed.

"I don't know you," Daryl spat. "Nor is it any of your goddamned business."

He had hurt her for a moment, his words slicing through her expression and exposing the cut he created. But she patched up those cuts with another inhalation of the plant in her hands. "You don't have to tell me," She finally spoke. "But whatever you saw, it's nothing but ghosts,"

She could see a hint of the truth in his eyes - she wasn't as stupid as he thought.

"I'm as real as yer chupacabra."

"One day, those ghosts aren't going to haunt you and keep you paralyzed from the truth," Samantha promised.

"One of these days, they're gonna scrape you off their heels like you was dog shit."

Daryl scoffed, stubbornly not putting hope into those words - but she merely smiled at him, before suddenly her face was in his vision, and it seemed to be getting closer.

He felt himself swallow down built up saliva, inside on what to do. But instead she leaned in and pecked him on the forehead, her lips soft against his forehead.

The gentleness made him flinch.

Her lips outstretched into a smirk as stood up from the bed.

"I've never been in bed with an older man before." Sam mused.

He rolled his eyes, yet couldn't help but restrain the urge of his lips curling upwards.

"Oh!" She gasped, digging into her jacket. "I almost forgot." The younger Walsh pulled out an object and threw it towards him.

Daryl's eyebrows rose once he realized what it was.

"I don't read." He stated, looking at the book in disinterest.

"Might as well start," Samantha shrugged, rubbing her head. "You aren't going to be moving around for a bit."

Daryl looked at the title; The One and Future King.

"Camelot," Samantha informed. "You said you didn't know what that was, so I dug through my things and found that. It's old, but it's still a treasure."

Daryl has dropped out of high school in his senior year. Him and Samantha were different, two types of people who never intertwined with one another, but for some reason she was attracted to him like a moth with a flame.

Daryl opened it up. "There ain't any pictures."

She chuckled. "Imagination is way better than pictures, Daryl."

I'm done with my imagination, especially after today.

She sent him one last smile and left the room, and to Daryl's surprise, he suddenly felt alone without her annoying presence in the room.

(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟnote

ITS SO HARD WRITING DARYLS CHARACTER BECAUSE I WANT IT TO BE ACCURATE

words ; 3264
edited ; ✔️