Through Hard Times. (Fantastic Foursome Fanfiction)

Denial

Melanie’s POV

“A-are you okay?” Daryl asked, still holding me as we sat in the bathroom. We mostly regained our composure, but really? Did he really ask that?

“Do you think I’m okay?” I snapped, tears still sliding down my cheeks. He shook his head and a couple tears fell from his eyes.

“I know. I know. I’m sorry. I just—” He was cut off by the sound of the front door opening. Panic replaced every other feeling in my body as my hands started shaking.

“Oh shit. We can’t tell them.” I choked out, my throat soar as I wiped at my tears.

“Can’t tell them what?” He asked, obviously confused.

“Everything! Okay? I need time to think about this, okay? I can’t explain it right now.” My drunken mind couldn’t process much—but I knew I didn’t want to go through this again. Not again. No more pain.

“Do you think she’s here?” I heard Cal’s voice. Oh God. What do we do? What do we do?

“What are we going to tell them? You’re bloody and half naked!” He whispered fiercely.

“I don’t know?!” I replied, my mind going into hyper drive as I looked around, umm, umm. Oh my God. What do we do?! My head started pounding as I tried to think of an explanation, “How about I was walking down the street and I tripped and got cut, you found me and are trying to clean me up?” He thought for a second before shaking his head,

“No, that wouldn’t work! Your dress is completely fine and you don’t get multiple cuts from falling!” He then stopped like he had an idea. He did not like his idea.

“Daryl?” I asked, “What is it?” He reached behind me and grabbed the bloody razor I had used before slipping it in his pocket and taking out a Swiss army knife.

“Don’t hate me.” He whispered as he dipped the blade in the blood that was pooling on the ground.

“Look, there’s her dress!” That was a rather drunk sounding Phil, his words slurring together, “Melanie?”

“Daryl?” I whispered quietly now, hearing their footsteps approach, “What are you doing?” My heart started beating rapidly as he stood up, shushing me.

“Whatever you do, don’t call my name, don’t rat me out. This is for you. I love you.” He whispered, bending down and giving me a soft kiss on the lips before going to the door, his shirt covered in my blood. I tried to say his name, but it came out as a squeak. I took a deep breath,

“I love you, too.” But before I could finish the statement, he threw himself through the doorway, running into Phil in the process, and bolted down the hall.

“Hey! It’s that guy from earlier!” Cal called, seemingly going after him. What is Daryl doing? I started sobbing, not knowing what to do. What is he DOING? I tried to stand and follow him out the door, but Phil appeared in front of me, his face going white once he saw all of the blood.

“M-Melanie?” He asked, coming towards me. I covered my cuts with my hand and looked away, feeling ashamed. “Oh, God. Cal?!” He screamed down the hall, “Cal? Bring the first aid kit under the sink!” But there was no response. “Crap.” He muttered, pulling out his phone as I blubbered like an idiot. He clumsily dialed a number before putting it to his ear, “Hello?” He squinted, trying to concentrate,

Hi, um, I’d like to report and attempted murder—” I almost choked. What? I sobbed harder and sank to the ground.

What is he doing? Daryl didn’t try to murder me?!