A/N: I've been playing around with this idea for a couple of days, so I thought it up and post it. Completing this a birthday present to myself (even though it's not til Friday) so yay! The song "How You See the World" by Coldplay which inspired this whole thing. I've pulled tidbits of info from the comic and the show (mainly the show) Hope you guys enjoy. R & R

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Are you missing something?
Looking for something?

Daryl sprinted toward her cell. His mind still reeling from talking to Rick. The end of the world was no time to be having relationship problems.

He snorted softly, relationship problems? Random talks and some body contact didn't make this a relationship. It didn't.

Neither one of them has clarified their feelings. Not aloud or silently. They just let it sit between them. The elephant in the room that nobody wanted to talk about.

He groaned softly, as he hit his shoulder on the prison door in his rush to get inside. How the fuck did he keep getting himself in these situations.

He should've listened to Merle. He warned him that they would never mix.

Should've listened to Andrea, she told him numerous times that she was complicated and closed off. That she had scars that ran as deep as his.

Should've listened to Rick, he told him that they wouldn't be like Glenn and Maggie. That they were polar opposites.

But no, he stupidly listened to Carol.

"If you two like each other, you should see how it goes." She said.

So he was. He was going to try. But things were so fucked up. Everything was just fucked up.

Tired of everything
Searching and struggling

Michonne sat in her cell, cleaning her katana. No that's a lie. She was sitting there repeatedly rubbing the blade with a cloth. It wasn't dirty but lately she felt as though everything she owned was dirty. She placed it back in its sheath and placed her head in her hands.

The discussion she had with Rick had altered some part of her mind. It had turned something in her off. It had broken something. It made her doubt herself. She didn't do that.

She withdrew deeper into herself. Mike's voice had completely left her head. It was replaced by a Georgia drawl. A sarcastic redneck. A quick shot. A hunter. A friend. A mind consuming interest. Daryl.

They've been dancing around each other for weeks now. Avoiding the inevitable. But now, it doesn't matter. And for a minute she's glad that nothing happened between them, because if it had she wouldn't be able to do this.

Are you worried about it?
Do you wanna talk about it?

He sat alone in the tower, leaning against the rail trying to wrap his mind around what Rick had said.

'This will all go away, if we give him Michonne.'

He didn't believe it. He couldn't believe it. He could only stare blankly at Rick when he announced it to the group.

"How do we know he's telling the truth?" Glenn asked, he had heard them talking about that man. He had heard his tactics. He had seen his tactics. He didn't trust it.

It left a bad taste in his mouth when they started contemplating it. He wanted to vomit when he could see it in their eyes that some of them were seriously considering it.

It was Merle who came to her defense. Telling them in explicit detail what he would do to her. Tell them how she would suffer. Making their skin crawl and smirking the entire time. Putting their humanity to the test.

Maggie shuddered, thinking of the things that he had done to her. The things that he could have done to her. And she hurls on the floor.

The subject is closed...for now.

Oh You're gonna get it right some time

She heard them talking and the gears started turning.

He wanted her.
He wanted revenge.
For his sick obsession.
For Penny.

She wanted him too.
To slit his throat.
To watch him suffer.
To feed him in pieces to the walkers that he so desperately clings to.
To free her friend from his deceitful grasp.

But she when she hears Merle, she hears the risk. She realizes the full extent of his sickness. She realizes that she can't do this alone, she going to need a little help.

She turns and heads back to the courtyard plotting out a plan.

There's so much to be scared of
And not much to make sense of

They sit together on watch silently. He watches her as she cleans that blade.

"Yew ready for tomorrow?"

She grunts, "Gotta be."

He nods in understanding. Ever since she appeared at the gate, she's been having to prove that she's loyal. That she's not going to chop them all up in their sleep. She helped out. Saved their people. Earned her keep.

At first he didn't trust her. But over time he saw himself in her. A kindred spirit. The silence around them was always deafening.

"Rick knows that town like tha back of his hand," he said looking at her from the corner of his eye. "Yew'll be in and out within a couple of hours."

She nodded looking over at him. "Maybe I'll bring you back a present," she said smirking, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

He nudged her, "Yew better."

He's rewarded later that evening when she walks in his cell, holding a crossbow out to him. She smiles softly at him, "You owe me some of your cookie stash."

He just grins, taking it from her and giving his new crossbow a once over.

"I knew yew liked me," he said cheekily waving his finger at her. She just chuckled at his antics.
"Thanks."

She nodded, "I still want my cookies." He groaned as she laughed at him.

Are you running in a circle?
You can't be too careful

He gathers them all around. It's time to talk. The clock's ticking. They're prepared. They have plans but the key player is needed.

"Michonne agreed."

Daryl felt his blood run hot. They all turned to look at her, but she just stared at the wall.

"Michonne," Maggie started walking a bit towards her. "Are you sure."

She just nods. She's discussed this with Rick. They had made some half-baked plan that needed Glenn's fine tuning.

Rick starts telling them the plan, but Daryl can't focus. He clenches his hands trying to keep himself from barreling towards Rick and punching him in the face.

His breathing becomes erratic as he thinks of all the things that could go wrong. All the things that will go wrong. All the shit that could happen to her.

They notice his anger and the discussion stops. Michonne felt him starring at her. She felt his anger directed at her. She felts her insides constrict. Her throat tightens. But she doesn't show any of it. Her face remains passive, but on the inside she's falling apart.

She stands up quickly and walks out. She has to get out. She goes to the courtyard and leans against the prison wall and closes her eyes.

He follows her out, anger still clouding his brain. "Michonne," he growls out. "What tha hell?" He stops in front of her. Disregarding her personal space. She opens her eyes and looks at him.

"It's my decision." she stated, starring him down.

"A fuckin stupid decision," he yelled "Yer just gonna give yerself up to some piece of shit."

"I'm making this whole thing go a whole lot quicker."

"By bein a sacrificial lamb?" He grabbed her shoulders shaking her a bit, "I'm not gonna let yew do this!"

She pushes him off. "It's not your decision to make!" She glared at him, but her eyes were pleading with him to understand. To know that she has to do this. To let her go.

His anger starts to resurface. He doesn't understand. He can't understand. There is nothing to understand about this. This whole situation is fucked up. He punches the wall, trying to release some of his frustrations. Punch after punch until a crack rips through the air. His skin disappears in a red velvet blanket. But he doesn't care. He doesn't.

She takes his hand in hers gently and leads him to the infirmary. Neither of the talk. There's nothing left to say.

And you can't relate it
'Cos it's complicated

The deer grazed peacefully in the forest. The animals had been dying left and right. The deer's ears twitched as it listened for little sounds, maybe it had heard something. It looks around for a minute before going back to grazing. An arrow pierces through the deer's head and it falls to the ground with a thud.

They come out from behind the trees, Daryl smirking at his catch. Michonne just rolled her eyes smirking. "Now you're just showing off."

He grinned at her pulling the arrow out. "Won't be sayin dat when yer eatin gud." He lifts the deer on his shoulder and starts heading back toward the prison. This is the biggest game he's been able to catch in a while. Animals were becoming scarce, they were gonna need to go for another run to stock up for the winter.

She walked alongside him, her arms folded over her chest. "So, why did you ask me out here?"

He just shrugged, "miss talkin to yew." He missed her alright. These feeling that had been stirring up in him. He couldn't understand why he felt this way, but he couldn't stop. She just nodded at him. "I missed talking to you to."

They touched on every subject on their way back to the prison. She could hear Mike telling her to stop. Telling her that she was getting too close. But a part of her didn't care. She needed this moment. She needed something real.

Oh You're gonna get it right some time
You're gonna get it right some time

When they found her and Andrea he had to suppress the urge to vomit. The Governor was dead, a fitting death courtesy of Maggie. But Daryl wanted him to be alive so he could kill him again. Andrea was handcuffed to a chair. Her mouth tapped, her clothes ripped and scars all over her body. They quickly ran to her aide, freeing her from the chair she fell in Rick's arm sobbing.

"Where's Michonne?" He barked. If Andrea was this bad...

Andrea just kept sobbing, her hand shakily pointing towards a tarp blocking her off from them. Rick picked her up bridal style and nodded his head toward Daryl. It was time to get their people out of there.

Daryl walked over to the tarp pulling it back and bit back a scream. There she was, her arms chained to the wall and a collar around her neck. Just like Andrea, she has scars all over her body, deep gashes everywhere, her clothing is almost nonexistent and there's a puddle of blood surrounding her.

He's torn. Torn between anger and sadness. He quickly runs to her aide though. Breaking those damn shackles off, ripping that thing from around her neck and catches her when she falls in his arms.

What kind of sick fuck would do this. How long had he been torturing Andrea? How long had he been persecuting women. Michonne had only been in his clutches for almost a day and half. He pulled his jacket off wrapping it around her beaten form and picked her up gently. He might just punch Rick in the face.

They had got the girls back to the prison. New people coming along. Mindless idiots staying in the town. So many lives lost because of people's inability to think for themselves. Because people can't seem to realize when something isn't right. That man was a monster. One look at these women and you'd see that. But that charming smile and deceitful voice hid him away from the world. He'd tricked and killed numerous people.

It's how you see the world
How many times can you see?

Andrea was the first to walk out of the infirmary. Her time with Dale and Michonne had harden her greatly. She wouldn't let this break her. She wouldn't. She would beat this. After a week in the infirmary she went to Rick asking what needed to be done, how she could help. She had cried her tears. She had screamed and bled it all out. Now it was time on focusing on moving forward.

"She's catatonic." Hershel informed him and Rick when they came to check on her progress. Rick just sighed, inwardly blaming himself for this. Daryl just looked confused.

"Cat-a what?" He asked arching his eyebrow. He looked over at her as Hershel explained. She wasn't fucking cat-a- whatever. She was fucking broken. She was broken and there was nothing he could do to help her fix herself.

You can't believe what you learn

Michonne leaned on the doorframe watching them bicker over Merle. Daryl was persistent with keeping his brother with him. She could understand that, she can't see why they couldn't. Even though they might have bad history, in a world that's gone to shit, the smallest amount of family is like a huge beacon of hope.

She watched him storm out and quietly followed him. She silently tracked his movements. He walked into a small secluded alleyway and sat on the floor holding his head in his hands. She knew it wasn't her place to say anything. This group barely welcomed her.

"They'll accept him in time." She says, watching as his head shoots up and he glares at her. "You're important to them and he's important to you. They'll come around."

His glare just hardens, but his eyes show some appreciation for her understanding. She just nods in his direction and walks away. He leans his head back against the wall, her words repeating in his head. A small smile falls on his lips.

It's how you see the world
Don't you worry yourself

Her body is healed but her mind is gone. They had moved her to her cell, but she just lays there staring at the wall. Daryl hangs her katana on the bed post knowing that she doesn't like to be too far without it.

He sits with her sometimes, telling her stupid stories from his life. Carl visits her too, informing her about the daily antics of Judith. When Andrea visits he feels his blood boiling. Apart of him blames her for this. Blames her stupidity. Blames her involvement with the Governor. She never moves, she doesn't eat. And he's afraid for her. He's afraid that she's given up. He's afraid that she's gonna die.

Your not gonna get hurt

The sound of a cell door opening wakes him up. He looks around to find her and her weapon gone. He panics and rushes off to find her. He notices the door to the "tunnels" are open, he pulls out his knife and follows the path. He continues the path keeping his guard up. But then he hears it. The grunts, the moans, the sound of flesh ripping apart. She drenched in blood hacking up the scarce zombies.

"Michonne," he whispered softly lowering his knife slightly. She sliced the head off an approaching zombie before turning to him, her eyes wild contrasting from the stoic expression she wore. He walked up to her slowly holding his palms up showing her that he meant no harm. Once he got close he slowly reached for her arm, she flinched slightly before recognition flooded her eyes. "Daryl," she croaked out. He nodded and pulled her into an embrace. She just clutched him tightly, her body shaking.

"Come on, let's get yew somethan ta eat." She just nodded and let him lead her out.

Oooohhhhh...

She had been back in action for about a week now, but something about her had changed. She was more recluse than when she first came to the group. She stare off a lot and she almost avoided them. No one had heard a word out of her. She was so quiet. The only person that could get a sentence from her was Judith.

Daryl caught her on her way to her cell when he touched her arm he swore she jumped. She looked at him smiling weakly. "Hmmm," she asked trying to play off her apprehension.

"I wanted ta talk to yew," he mumbled looking at her. She nodded and let him lead her. He lead her to the alleyway outside. He chewed on his thumb, trying to figure out how to go about this.
"Yew awlright?" He asked kicking himself for the question as soon as it left his lips. She nodded quickly.

"Fine."

He sighed softly, " Look, I know yew ain't awlright," he took her hand in his, "but I want cha to know, I'm here fer yew." She nodded her head quickly and pulled away. Turning around to head back inside, "Thanks." she mumbled.

He signed as he watched her walk away, feeling himself giving up.

Is there something missing?
There's nobody listening

He turned in late that night, after peeking in on her, he dragged himself to his own cell. He curled up in his bed drifting off to sleep.

He woke up a couple of hours later due to a weight on his chest. He blinked his eyes and looked down at her.

"Michonne,"he whispered. She nodded on his chest, curling up on top of him. He held her tightly, kissing her head telling her its gonna be okay. She broke down in his arms while he held her. Maybe things could get better.

He woke up the next morning to find her gone. He gets up quickly, rushing out to find her only to see her at the table already eating. He joins the rest shooting her a questioning look from time to time. She kept her eyes lowered though, like even the process of eating took all her concentration. Excited chatter rang around the table, but neither of them noticed.

That night he found her already curled up in his bed when he got back from watch. He curled up next to her wrapping his arms around her waist and falls into a peaceful sleep.

He wakes up the next morning and she's still in his arms. She still was resting peacefully with a small smile on her face. He smiles a bit and closes his eyes again. Maybe he'll sleep in today.

Are you scared of what you don't know?
Don't wanna end up on your own?

It's been four months. Things are normal, well as normal as they have been since Z-Day. They go for runs. The keep watch for hordes. They talk about relocating. About finding a new place, something less prison-y. Maybe another farm. Maybe take a small town. Maybe build something new.

He sees her and Rick talking across the courtyard. The discussion seems heated. Hands were thrown in the air in frustration on Rick's end before he just walked away. She stood there for a while longer before walking in the opposite direction. Everybody who seen them frowned. What the hell was going on.

Andrea followed Michonne.
Daryl followed Rick.

"What tha hell was dat?" He barked as he pulled Rick's arm to prevent him from moving.

"She wants to leave."

"What?" He blanched, his mind reeling why the hell did she want to leave. "What the fuck is going on?"

You need conversation
And information

She turned Andrea away. She didn't want to talk about it.

'Why? You've become an important part of the group. We trust you with our lives?'

'Doesn't matter. Things are getting uncomfortable.'

'That doesn't answer my question.'

'Its not supposed to.'

'You know what this whole independence shit is great. But we need you here.'

'Decisions final.'

'Fuck! Just give me one good reason. No more vague bullshit.'

Nothing was said before Rick stormed off.

She shook her head. Things were getting weird. She felt herself slipping. Slipping back in that place where everything hurt. Where his stood in front of her with that Cheshire grin and that primal look in his eye. She woke up every night, a scream lodged in her throat. Because sometimes it wasn't just him. It was them. The monsters she met before the apocalypse even began. She felt the walls closing in around her and if she wanted to hang on to her sanity she needed to get out.

She sat on her bed as Daryl came barreling in the room. "Yer not fuckin leavin." He bellowed walking closer to her. She opened her mouth to say something but then she just shook her head.

"Daryl..." she began

"No. No fuckin way! I'm not letting yew leave."

She stood up in anger. Angry that he was trying to dictate her life. Angry at the Governor. Angry at Andrea. Angry at everything. But mostly angry at herself for second guessing. Angry at herself for taking one look at him and everything in her mind getting blown to shit.

She moves to yell at him. To hit him. Punch him. Slap him. Knee him in the nuts. Anything to stop feeling like this.

Instead she pulls him into a fierce kiss. He quickly returned the kiss matching her fervor and pushes her against the wall. His arms instinctly going around her waist and hers around his neck. He forces his tongue in her mouth wrapping his tongue around hers. Pushing himself closer, she treads her fingers through his hair. He can't be close enough. In an instant they're trying to consume each other. The need for air pulls them apart, their lips are bruised and their both panting softly as their foreheads touch.

"I'm sorry, Daryl."

Ohhhhhhhhh...

He tighten the bounds around her wrist pulling her roughly to her new home. Upon seeing Andrea she immediately headbutted him and wobbled over to her. Andrea looked at her with half lidded eyes. Both women felt a spark of fear flooding their being for their friends welfare. Michonne just looked at her, hoping that her message was coming across clearly.

Andrea just nodded weakly before her eyes widen. Michonne turned quickly behind her only to have a fist in her face. She stumbled back trying to regain her balance but a punch to the stomach made her double over in pain. The Governor yanked her by her dreads pulling her to the restraints he had set up for her.

Andrea bit back a sob as she listen to him drag her friend. Tears cascaded down her cheeks as she heard the ripping of clothing and flesh. She could heard Michonne's heavy breathing and the Governor grunts. She squeezed her eyes closed tightly. Her message running clearly in her head.

'They're coming.'

Gonna get it right sometimes
You just wanna get it right sometimes

He woke up that morning groaning. His head was pounding. He reached over next to him to find the bed empty. He frowned and sat up looking around the room, her katana still hanging on the bed post. He stumbled out of bed heading down to breakfast. He passed her cell, his frown setting in. Not there. He didn't see her amongst the surprised faces. He grabbed his crossbow and jacket heading out to the courtyard. Not a trace of her. He grumbled to himself. Where was that girl.

Daryl stomped back inside the prison giving up his search for her. He goes to the cell Rick and Andrea share. He finds the quietly talking.

"Ey?" He interrupts, "Ya'll seen Michonne?"

Andrea just stared at him wide eyed while Rick furrowed his brows. His frown deepened. What the fuck was this hide and seek. Rick stood up touching his shoulder pulling him to Hershel's cell.

"What da hell," he exclaimed, "Yew seen 'er or not?"

"Seen who?," Hershel says as he hobbles over to them.

"Michonne."

Hershel looked down for a minute before looking at Daryl sighing softly. "Come take a seat, son"

Daryl takes a seat on Hershel's bed. A horrible feeling sinking in the pit of his stomach. Rick just stood at the door staring at Daryl, his arms folded across his chest.

"Do you remember us talking about Michonne's condition?"

" Yeah, yew said she was cat-a- something?"

Hershel shook his head. "No, do you remember the conversation we had after that?"

Daryl furrowed his brows. "What da hell yew talkin' 'bout. He barked, "we ain't talk bout nothin' else."

Hershel just sighed and Rick stepped in.

"Daryl, he told you that given her state she wasn't going to make it."

Daryl shot up. "That's bullshit! I was just talkin ta 'er last night. I was just.." he trailed off. He couldn't believe it. He wouldn't. Last night they had. She was there. He knows she was there.

"Daryl, she didn't make it," Rick whispered, his hands balling into fist. He was still carrying that weight. He should've just gone down to the last man. At least she would've went out swinging, not like this.

Daryl fell back on the bed staring blankly.

"You kinda flipped out. I think her passing so soon after Merle just broke something in you." Hershel explained, "You've been in and out of consciousness for the past four days."

He felt his chest tighten. It was getting harder to breath. That can't be right. It can't be. He couldn't think straight. Nothing made sense anymore. "What happened?" he croaked out?

"After she passed, you stopped eatin. You stopped sleepin. You were a walking time bomb." Hershel explained touching his shoulder. "You and Rick got into an argument about you wanting to leave. But it ended with Rick and Glenn having to subdue you; you knocked your head on the concrete."

Daryl just stared blankly at the wall, "least it wasn't a bullet this time." He stood up and headed out. Rick stepped out to let him pass.

"You gonna be alright?"

Daryl nodded heading back to his cell, dropping the crossbow by the doorway. He lay back down in the bed trying to go back asleep. In his dreams his brother was still alive. She was still alive. Things didn't hurt. Everything about this world just fucking hurts.

He pulled her katana off the bed post and clenched it tightly.

No, reality would never be the same.

It's how you see the world
How many times have you heard?
You can't believe a word

~Fin