The Pure and the Damned • TWD: Daryl Dixon

5. Laisse-moi Le Tuer.

Dakota stared up at the two men, eyes wide and body frozen. Then, her gaze shifted to Ian and morphed into a glare. That ugly, stupid, lying, nasty snitch. Dakota let out a loud, angry growl, snatching an arrow from her quiver and raising it above her head, but before she could jab into Ian's leg, Daryl grabbed her by the wrist. She thrashed as Daryl pried the arrow from her hand.

"Aye! Quit it!" Daryl spat, taking the girl's quiver when she reached for another arrow. "Stop it!"

"Jesus," Ian muttered to himself as he watched the interaction.

That only set off Dakota even worse. She lunged towards Ian only for her upper arms to be grabbed by Daryl, holding her back and keeping her stuck in one place. She continued to thrash and kick like some sort of wild animal, but Daryl wouldn't let her go.

"Damnit, kid," Daryl murmured exhaustedly. Her fighting never ceased; it only became weaker the longer it went on. "You see that bridge over there?" Daryl asked, forcibly turning her to face the drawbridge that kept them out of the large castle. "You think you can climb a rope across to there? Over a pit a' walkers?"

Dakota only grumbled, continuing on trying to get away from him.

"You're stayin' right here. Both of you," Daryl said, glancing at Ian. Dakota continued to fight him on this, though, because if anything, she was persistent. "Jesus Christ," Daryl huffed out, exhausted by the girl's fighting. "Take her," he said to Ian.

Although reluctantly, Ian grabbed Koty by the arms the way Daryl had, only she was fighting Ian even worse than she was fighting against Daryl, because Ian was an ugly, stupid, lying, nasty snitch.

Daryl huffed out a sigh, rubbing his eyes for a moment before picking up the rope and gardening hoe again. He looked back at Ian. "Listen to me this once. Please," Daryl said with a very serious and slightly desperate look on his face.

Ian avoided eye contact but nodded. Daryl could only hope that he really meant it.

While Dakota continued pulling, pushing, and kicking in Ian's hold, Daryl headed for the drawbridge with a gun slung over his shoulder and a makeshift grappling hook in his hand. He threw the gardening hoe across to the bridge and watched it hook onto the top of the bridge. Despite how badly it stung his hands or how much his muscles burned, he climbed the rope and slid down the other side of the bridge, leaving the others stuck on the outside.

As soon as Daryl was out of his sight, Ian let Dakota go and picked up her quiver just seconds before she got to it. She glared up at him, looking as furious as ever, as he held the arrows high above her head, where she couldn't reach them.

With no other options, Koty began kicking at his shins.

"Hey! Hey, hey, hey! Quit it!" Ian shouted at her, using one hand to hold the quiver up and the other to try and shove her back. She remained persistent, though. "Hey! Do you want my help or not?!" he went on. Koty didn't seem to hear him, and if she did, she just ignored him. "Do you wanna kill at asshole or do you wanna keep kickin' me?!"

Finally, Koty froze. She stared up at Ian with wide, furious eyes.

"I didn't tell him, alright? He saw you," Ian told her. It was a lie, sure, but it was better than being kicked in the shins any longer. "Now, do you want to get in there?" he asked again, being sure to enunciate his words.

Dakota nodded very firmly.

"Alright. I'm gonna use that rope to get to the other side, and I'll let the bridge down. Okay?" Ian said, his eyebrows raised.

Inside, Dakota worried that maybe Ian was a liar. Maybe he would get to the other side and leave the bridge up, abandoning her out there, helpless and all by herself. Maybe he would kill La Tarasque before she could get the chance to. Maybe he was truly a liar.