[25] run, rabbit, run

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25. Run, Rabbit, Run

"when they catch you, they will kill you

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"when they catch you, they will kill you."

THE AIR MIGHT'VE BEEN GETTING THINNER, or more likely, Dani was overreacting again. Her hyperventilating felt more than necessary then, however. She had a craving for justice, one that wasn't disappearing until it had been fulfilled.

Pacing outside of the white suburban house, Dani counted her inhales and exhales on a loop, the burning anger she felt returning and bubbling on her inside like a looming volcanic eruption.

Eli was no help, he'd tried to push for her place with Daryl on the trip she knew he was planning but he'd refused and somehow the bastard had switched sides. He didn't think it was right for her to go now. What the fuck did he know?

When the door flew open and Daryl rushed out just like she had predicted, Dani shot forward, shouting for him to just bring her along this once. She needed this. It was her fault, after all.

"Dani, you gotta quit it. You ain't coming, alright?" He snapped, climbing onto his bike and taking off to the gate. Daryl Dixon was unbelievably naive if he thought that was going to stop her.

Of course, the woman ran. She ran as fast as her legs would allow before watching him escape the gate much quicker than she could've stopped. She huffed as she slowed beside Glenn's truck window.

"Let me come with you."

"We have Rosita guiding us, you've gotta stay here, Dani." Glenn told her, sympathy in his tone.

"I love you. A lot. But if I can't go helping him kill that–"

Glenn placed a gentle hand on hers. He smiled a small sad smile, one that was full of pity and misery, before telling her honestly, "We aren't going to help, Dani. We're trying to stop him."

"But–"

"I know you want this for Tara. But killing anyone else isn't going to change the fact that Denise is still dead. Now, you wait here. Look out for my wife. Please."

Biting down on her lip so hard she was sure she might draw blood, Dani nodded, allowing the three to take off without her and filling her with a sickening feeling of impending doom that she just couldn't shake.

"Dani." Lucia sighed, frowning at the woman and her bouncing knee. "You can't always be the hero."

"I'm not trying to be a hero, I just want–" She shot at her, no care in her tone for the woman simply trying to look out for her. Huffing as she raked her fingers through her hair, Danica pressed her eyes closed, doing her damnedest to stay calm. Part of her was unbothered by the irritating itch crying out for bloodshed. She assumed that she'd accepted the monstrous part of her months ago. But the other half of her; the florist whose only problem was ever the delivery guy who never remembered her entire order; the woman who loved crocheting her own sweaters and ending her evenings with a sweet treat from the bakery down the road, was ashamed of that itch. Horrified by it even. She didn't want that for herself. What kind of life was that?

𝐔𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 || The Walking DeadWhere stories live. Discover now