The Devils Eyes •Daryl Dixon•

E L E V E N : G R E A T

Six months. That's how long we'd been out on the road. It'd been difficult for the group, Lori was showing and it'd driven her and Rick apart, taking a heavy toll on Carl.

Sophia and I tried to talk to him but he'd only occasionally speak to her, which I was okay with so long as he didn't close himself off.

Sophia and I had gotten closer, and I was beginning to see her as my daughter. I knew I could never replace Carol, but I'd still do my best to be the best mother for her possible.

Daryl and I had somewhat gotten on better relationship ground. We only talked while hunting but this in turn, would result in more arguments.

The leaves crunched under our feet as we were hunting again and approached a way too small house. We raised our bows and Daryl took the lead, kicking the door open. I flanked to the right and he went the opposite way as we checked for muertos.

"Clear!" I shouted and he did the same in reply. I saw him checking through the cupboards and I followed suit, but came across nothing.

I went to the back rooms to hopefully get some luck. I reached a teenager's room and saw posters and trophies around.

I grinned as I scanned the bookshelf, spotting one of the Harry Potter books and even Twilight. Neither were really my taste, but I missed reading anything. A thud came from the closet door and I pulled out my knife, yanking the door open. I stared at the tip of an arrow and rolled my eyes.

"Again?"

"Jus' checking the house," he turned and went back and I followed. We eventually left and managed to leave with a few cans.

"Daryl?" I asked after a moment of silence, adjusting the dead squirrels on my back.

He hummed in response.

"Do you... do you think we'll ever find a place? Like somewhere to live, maybe call a home?"

"I dunno, maybe."

"Yeah, mayb-"

I took a step and felt a rope tighten against my ankle, and I was pulled up a tree. The sudden motion made me slam against the tree, where a jagged branch stuck out, puncturing my stomach. I hissed as my hands flew to the wound as it slowly leaked to my shirt.

"Shit!" Daryl shouted.

"I'm fine, I'm fine, the cuts not deep, but my ankle... shit I think it's sprained," I groaned in pain and did my best to lift myself up but let my body fall limp after failing.

"I'll get ye down, just hang on," he hurried, looking for the source of the rope.

"Just hurry, I don't enjoy being upside down."

"I'm going as fast as I can damnit!" He hissed.

"Just shoot the rope!"

"Ye'll hit yer head."

I hissed and pushed through the pain as I pushed myself up, grabbing the rope. I grabbed for my knife and pressed the blade against the rope.

"Shit! Clementine stop!"

I ignored him and dragged the knives across the rope, cutting through it. I closed my eyes as I fell, waiting for the impact and when I landed, I heard a grunt.

I opened my eyes and saw my face inches from Daryl. My breath hitched and I looked at his lips.

Nope. No fucking way.

I hurriedly pushed myself off him. "Shit, I'm sorry," I say, limping backwards, and placing my hands on the wound as it stung.

"Ye okay?" He asked and grabbed my bow.