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Even when the bodies are still, I can't stop the thousands of images swimming past my eyes, blasting past my mind at the speed of light. My only grasp on reality is the viselike grip of Carl's hand with mine, pulling me back down to Earth when I feel as though I might be drifting away. Michonne's shaky, yet firm hands hold me closer to her than I've ever been before. She smells of a combination of dust and lemon-scented soap. It somehow brings me comfort.

The only thing that pulls me away from Michonne with her unwavering comfort and warmth is the sight of Daryl. I don't have to think about what I'm doing, because before I'm able to fully process any of my thoughts, I jump to my feet and run to him as quickly as I can. My arms yearn for one of his tight, and oddly affectionate, hugs. For many days now, I had thought I'd never be able to see him again, yet, here I am, standing in front of him in all of his lively presence.

My leg sings in pain as I move in Daryl's direction, but I quiet it as I wrap my arms around his torso, squeezing him as tightly as I can. He does the same to me, bending over slightly so he's closer to my height, even though his efforts don't do much.

Pure disbelief still has a tight hold on me as I allow Daryl to continue embracing me. I cannot believe he's here right now. As I begin to think about it, I realize that I don't want him to stop hugging me because it will force me to be thrown back into the aggressive world of gore I had done so much work to just get myself out of. In the end, however, it doesn't matter because I know I have to.

As I pull away, he gives me a look filled with a deep mixture of sadness and weariness before he softly mutters, "Did he hurt ya?" I shake my head solemnly, pressing my lips together. Besides the bumps and bruises I've easily collected from being practically yanked from the car in the first place, I hadn't sustained anything further. Even so, I can already feel the onset of pain from something much worse - emotions. With that, I could just about cry thinking of the things he could've done - the things he intended to do if he were only given more time.

I start crying because I know the things Kyle did to Carl.

Daryl takes a step forward, putting his arms around me again and gently pulls my head towards his chest, blocking everything else out before I have a chance to fall to the ground. I would've if he hadn't caught me and eased me to the pavement because my knees had completely given out and left no stability for me. The sobs painfully rack my body. Everything I had been bottling up for the past week comes spewing out - feelings of the people I've lost, the ones who have returned, the life I will never be able to live again and the hurtful experiences I was forced to endure.

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