What the hell'd I do to deserve this?

The question's crossed my mind a dozen times in the last half hour. All we done was cover all of a quarter mile. I'm sweatin' like a fuckin' hog out here. My body's all beat to shit but I keep movin' forward. Months of comfort don't reverse what a lifetime of desperation's done. I reverted back to the man sleepin' with one eye open. I got my bow in fronta me, my buck knife strapped to one leg an' my handgun to the other. A person never completely changes after a lifetime of hardness, you always keep that grit an' roll with the punches this shitty world throws. I just so happen to be the son of a bitch that dodges the blows an' swings back. If you wanna survive out here, you gotta close away all feelin's. Feelin' don't save your life, actin' does. I ain't ever gonna just lay down an' let death take me. The bastard wants me, I'ma put up the biggest fight he ever did see.

"Daylight's wastin'." My voice's gruff. Hoarse. Dry. S'most I've said in two days, an' it reminds me of just how thirsty I am. Rationin' water's the safest bet, awful's it is. But even if I had a whole well of water, I don't much feel like shootin' the shit with my current company. Alive is all I wanna be. Alive an' hidden from walkers. An' seein' as how I'm now a fuckin' babysitter, that means the effort's doubled. Fuckin' exhaustin'.

I know I was never a great person, by most standards. Ain't nobody can tell me different. I was trouble, a degenerate. The walkin' dead seemed plenty enough punishment for my sins. What I been through over the last year or so, I figured my debt was paid; interest included. But life ain't fair, is it? A reality I shoulda known better'n anyone. The last few days woulda been enough to sort out what I owed the world in full, past aside. How's it the shit just keeps pilin' on?

"I'm sorry, Daryl. I'm really tryin' to keep up." She's sorry. I almost laugh. I could shit in one hand an' fill the other with her stupid apologies. Which one'd fill first? Outta all the people I coulda gotten away with... Maybe it's an awful thought, but I often wondered how Beth made it this far. She's soft. I tense up. That thought- that word- chills me.

The memory of my bastard father's one I've struggled to bury deep down. Try as I might, I know it ain't ever leavin' me. Soft. I can't wrap my head 'round how I even kept that fuckin' word in my mind, let alone on the tip of my tongue. I can hear his drunken voice again like thunder in a small room. Right 'fore he struck me like lightenin'.

"Ya know what yer problem is, son? Yer too damned soft! A Dixon's s'posed to be hard, unbreakable." He paces in fronta me, reakin' of hooch. The room's dark; that old lamp on the table's nearly burned out.

"An' here ya are, cryin' like a soft, little bitch 'cause yer mommy's gone. Ya don't see Merle blubberin', do ya? I ain't losin' no sleep o'er some stupid bitch who burnt the house down! Took her dumb ass with it, just as she deserved! Ya reap whatcha sow! I only hope she suffered. Hope she's still burnin' right in Hell where she belongs. Her dyin' ain't the problem! We're stuck in a fuckin' shack 'cause of her!" He's right in fronta me now, bloodshot eyes an' clenched fists. I already know where this is headed. Ain't the first an' sure as shit ain't gonna be the last.

"An' ya still wanna cry? Makes me fuckin' sick. I couldn't be more ashamed if ya walked up to me in a dress an' told me ya changed yer name to Daisy. Pisses me off." I can hear him workin' at that buckle, but I keep my head down. I know better than to look him in the eyes. It's like facin' a feral dog. Eye contact only challenges the balance of dominance.

"If it's the last thing I do, boy, I'ma toughen ya up." His voice's behind me now; he thinks the fear's killin' me. The seconds seem like ages. My head's still down, eyes shut tight. I ain't afraid of him no more. I'm just waitin' for it to be over.

Then came the leather belt. Lickin' at the skin of my back like fire, numbin' me to the core like ice. I don't cry or scream. He'd get his rocks off if I did. I was past the point of pain, past feelin' anything. I had already started puttin' my walls up. It was the beginnin' of the end of Daryl Dixon. I'd become hollow, a shell. I was nine years old.

"Daryl, d'you hear me?" I turn to Beth. I ain't even know she was talkin' to me. Too busy tryin' to shake off my nerves. Realization hits just how tight my grip's on my crossbow. Fuck that bastard for still hauntin' me after all this time. Even the memory chips away at my walls. For a moment, I almost feel weak. Bastard.

"Well, all's I said was this might be a good spot to camp for the night. Trees are thick here, so we should be well covered. Dontcha think?" I grunt in response an' drop my bag, start to pull the tent out. Better to let her rest. Stumblin' 'round all tired an' shit'll get us both killed. If I had to be honest, I didn't have anything against Beth. In the time I've known her, she seemed like a decent kid. Hell, she's been through just 'bout all the same shit I have. Least since the dead no longer stayed dead.

Maybe it's just the added burden. Alone, I survive. Did it before, comes natural to me now. Guess I resent that havin' her with me puts us both at risk. I'm too fast for her to keep up. She can easily fall behind an' then I lose her. If I hold back to keep my eye on her, I forfeit my own guard. Can't fuckin' win.

As I glance over at the girl, I think of her father. That's when the guilt hits, an' just 'fore I shove it back down I remember why I gotta try an' keep us both alive. If there's anything I've learned in this new world, it's keep your allies close. I scoff at my own pussy thought. Shit ton of good that thinkin' did for the group when our enemy remained closer.

Completely unseen, the perfect fuckin' predator. The Governor.

We were stupid to think it was over, stupid to think we stood a chance if it weren't.