What the fuck was I doing?

Right then, sitting beside that stupid fucking kid. The one I tried to kill - because he was a liability. He wasn't one of us. I didn't ever want him to be one of us. I wanted to kill him.

Instead, I had to settle with knocking him out.

Thankfully, Glenn took the space between me and the boy, whom we had learned his name was Randall.

But after everything, after all, the lying and deceiving. The keeping the truth from everyone because if they knew... oh boy, if they knew - they would hate me.

So why did I go and drink - the one thing that can make you blabber the hidden passages you've stored away in your mind. Filed away and stamped with a big "fuck off" sign on them.

So I had one question for myself.

What the fuck was I doing?

As the sun rose higher in the air, bit by bit, it became harder to keep my eyes opened. It felt like someone had beaten me up because my brain was constantly buzzing, and burning.

It hurt so bad, I just wanted to curl up under the ground and never come out. I wanted to run away and never listen to anything ever again because doing that hurt.

I had my head ducked down between my knees, hands over my ears because I could hear everything. I could hear the gravel being kicked by the wheels from underneath the car. Randall's panicked breathing. Everytime Rick's wedding ring knocked the wheel was like torture.

But torture I felt like I deserved.

Soon enough, the car started to drive down the familiar road to the farm. I opened my eyes and looked out the window.

The thought of coming back here was never on my mind. I didn't want to come back.

But I had to.

I felt a nudge on my side and turned only a little, spotting Glenn in the corner of my eye.

"You okay?" he mouthed, cautious of Rick in front of me.

Rick had ordered everyone to be quiet after he had apparently scolded my words last night. But I didn't remember most of it.

In response to Glenn, all I could do was roll my eyes. "No," I sighed.

I didn't have a wink of sleep last night, to my eyelids felt like they have one hundred ton weights attached to them. But I couldn't sleep - I wasn't going to let myself fall unconscious next to Randall. No way.

I wasn't exactly ecstatic about going back, and the worst thing was that everyone else in the car were. Rick was speeding down the trail towards the farm. We had passed the gate and were only a mere minute away from those porch steps. With those people.

It seemed pretty cold-hearted of me to want to abandon everyone, and it was something I wanted but couldn't do.

I brought my head up from my palms to peek over the sill of the window, watching the trees start to surround the car and the dust starting to descend. This meant we were home.

Home.

How fucking funny is that?

Once the car stopped, I swallowed thickly. I looked to the left across Glenn, seeing everyone start to congregate around the car.

I felt Glenn nudge me and realised he probably wanted to get out and reunite with Maggie. So I shakingly opened the door, hopping out and having to steady my legs. After Glenn walked out, I shut it, wincing as the sharp noise felt like it was cracking my skull.

At the corner of my eye, I saw Maggie bound towards Glenn and past her father. To which Glenn gave her a short hug and brushed her off. She then turned to me.

"Marley?" She furrowed her brows at me in an obvious mixture of curiosity and confusion.

"The one and only," I huffed. "Why?"

"We thought you were missing," she explained, as I slowly walked past her as Glenn had done, becoming more in view to everyone else. "We didn't know you'd gone with-"

"Marley?" Shane then said. He took half a step towards me. "That's where you were?"

Everyone's eyes were on me and I hated it. Shane, Lori, Carol, T-Dog, Carl... Daryl.

I puffed out my chest, then let out a large breath. "I went and got drunk with Hershel, yes," I confirmed. "But thanks for the concern." I didn't mean that. I didn't care.

"Patricia, prepare the shed for surgery," I heard Hershel say, thankfully taking a few eyes off me.

My legs were shaking uncontrollably, and despite the regular Georgian heat, I was actually shaking all over. I didn't know whether that was a symptom of sobering up or I didn't like all the eyes on me.

I wasn't paying attention to what anyone was saying. The concerned remarks were just background noise. Until T-Dog spoke up.

"Hey, who the hell is that?" he pointed to the boy in the backseat of the car. Randall had his neck relaxed, sighing probably from tiredness.

Glenn squinted, looking around to everyone. "That's Randall," he announced, allowing accusing eyes to place themselves on Rick.

As Randall was being sorted out, I decided to abandon any and all discussion about him and start walking to my camp.

And he was behind me.

I could tell because I doubt anyone else would. No one else would follow me. And the way his footsteps fell, slightly heavier on his left since he leaned that way when he was carrying his crossbow. I was too accustomed to it not to recognize it.

"You probably want to know what happened," I stated, stopping short and looking over my shoulder.

He stepped around me to being in front of me, towering over me. His eyes were soft, and my eyes aching and hard. It shouldn't be that way.

We were just in each other's presence for a moment before he spoke up. "Why'd you leave?" he asked, voice not matching up with his expression. It was almost angry.

I squinted at him, shaking my head; "I don't have to answer dumb questions," I said, brushing past him.

"It ain' dumb, Marley," he yelled after me, voice boiling.

"Yeah, well, when it comes from your mouth that's a pretty sound conclusion to pull," I muttered under my breath.

Before long, I felt a familiar hand grasp my wrist tightly, causing me to stop in my tracks and turn to him. I grabbed his own wrist and squeezed it as tight as I could.

"Listen here, you stupid bitch," he snarled. I didn't know whether his goal was to scare me or not, but it wouldn't have worked. "I don't know what you got in tha' head of yours lately, but you can't just live life however you want."

"Oh, what are you, my mother?" I spat, yanking my arm away from him. "I can do whatever the fuck I want, Daryl, no one in this fucking camp is in charge of me."

"This a game to you?"

"If it's exactly that, then I'm winning, sweetheart," I smiled, poking his chest with my index finger. "For once, in my life, I don't have some man dictating who I am, and I am not letting go of that so get off my back, catch some fucking squirrels and for once in these past few weeks, stop worrying about me - it's not getting you anywhere."

"What happened?" he growled, clearly not getting my message and grabbing my wrist again.

I huffed, brushing away some fallen hair. "In short, champagne for the pain, so they say." And, again, I tore my wrist from him. "I catch you giving me orders, or anyone telling me what to do, I will gladly cut off that hand." I pointed to the one that held me.

I picked up his wrist and dug my nails into it, clutching it tightly. He seemed unimpressed. "You'll end up losing the same appendage as your brother, sweetie."

He ripped his arm away from me, eyes going small as he kept a stare on me. "Y'all get off me," he spoke, sounding tired and grumpy. "You gonna get yourself in deep shit, Marley, if you don't stop acting like a bitch."

"You're gonna end up alone if you don't stop acting like yourself," I spat back. "Throw all the words at me, I don't care. You're just gonna get a wake-up call to all the names that correlate with you, in the process."

"Get out o' my way," he tore past me, hitting my shoulder so hard that I fell to the ground. Dust caught in my throat and I coughed, but couldn't help the giggle that left my lips.

"You. Asshole," I laughed, wiping the dirt from my eyes and watching as his steps faltered, walking towards our camp. "I guess we're both pieces of shit, huh?" I called after him, but he left me on the floor and really didn't care.

+

"We couldn't just leave him behind," Rick's voice echoed. The way the voices bounced off the walls within the house made it seem cold. Like the house actually had bones that could shatter, and that were filled with blood. "He would've bled out if he lived that long."

I crossed my arms over my chest, resting my back against the wall. I eyed the sheriff, really wanting to see if I bruised him where I punched him.

This time, Glenn speaks up. "It's gotten bad in town," he says somberly, looking ever so obviously at Maggie. It wasn't hard to tell that something happened. Something that made him realise... something.

"What do we do with him?" Andrea asked the big question, one I felt I knew how was going to be answered. A pathetic fucking answer. One I did not want to partake in because it was exactly that... a pathetic fucking answer.

Rick went to answer before Hershel made himself known. "I repaired his calf muscle as best I can, but he'll probably have nerve damage. Won't be on his feet for at least a week."

Rick stood from his kneeling position on his chair. "When he is, we give him a canteen, take him out to the main road, send him on his way."

I turned my face into my shoulder, hiding my smile that I couldn't help.

As they continued to discuss what would happen to the pile of filth currently occupying oxygen in that barn, the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end as I heard the door to the house open and shut.

I looked over my shoulder, to see him. He was there again.

"You following me?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Don't flatter yourself," he mumbled, keeping quiet as possibly since the other voices in the room were getting louder as they argued more over Randall and what was going to happen to him.

I slid against the wall, stepping closer to Daryl. He shifted uncomfortably as his eyes almost got lost in his moody brow. He sighed heavily as our shoulders made contact.

I found it incredibly amusing.

I kept looking at his face and felt a twinge in my chest that I couldn't explain - like I was being told off. That I shouldn't be treating Daryl this way.

But Daryl wouldn't understand. I would explain and he would ignore. I know Daryl - he doesn't think I'm a bad person and that I can do certain things and convince him I was and could be effort I didn't have.

I knew I shouldn't be treating him this way.

But I just knew he wouldn't understand.

Not just him, but everyone else. They wouldn't listen. They couldn't.

And a tiny part of me didn't want them to.

I almost jumped out of my skin when Shane's voice ripped me from my thoughts and I looked to him.

"Look at this, folks-- we back in fantasyland," he chanted, walking under the lintel leading to the living room and out the dining room.

Hershel trailed after him and it was honestly like watching a soap opera. "You know, we haven't even dealt with what you did at my barn yet," he said pointedly, throwing the towel he had in his hands to the table in frustration. "Let me make this perfectly clear, once and for all-- this is my farm. Now I wanted you gone. Rick talked me out of it, but that doesn't mean I have to like it. So do us both a favor-- keep your mouth shut."

Hershel's attempt at talking shit to Shane honestly failed in my head. Because there was one thing that Shane was good at it and that was not keeping his mouth shut. When he had an opinion, his brain couldn't comprehend that other people had different ones.

Shane saw everyone's eyes on him, cocking his head from side to side. He looked like he was ready to explode, but he didn't, instead making a beeline for the exit.

Rick approached the old man but addressed everyone. "We're not gonna do anything about it today. Let's just cool off."

There was a long pause before everyone started to get up and leave. They were all silent, their stomachs must have been turning as they thought about our new arrival.

Cleared my throat, letting my arms relax at my side.

"You got something you want to say?" Rick's voice almost boomed. People's steps stopped, even including Daryl who had his hand placed on the door out.

"Provoking me will only highlight your b.s, Rick," I sighed, folding my arms over one another again.

"Is that it?" he growled, taking steps towards me but I cut him short.

"Don't come near me, Woody," I bit back, my feet staying glued to the floor. I sucked my teeth, my eyes burning into his. "Take a huge step back into your 'fantasyland'."

"Marley-" Glenn started.

"Don't! Don't fucking 'Marley' me!" my throat was raw and my words came out more scratchy than intended.

"Just like I said Shane, keep your mouth shut," Hershel decided to add. The only thing I could focus on was the blood on his white shirt, my eyes trailing there unwillingly.

Lori decided to speak up as well. "You need to calm down."

I eyed her, speaking to her through my teeth. "You can hardly parent your own son, you'll hardly be successful with me."

"What?" Someone said.

"You're becoming my problem, Marley," Rick accused.

My mouth opened and my eyes widened, but nothing came out for a moment as I looked to everyone's shocked faces. Then my eyes met Rick's again.

"You really want me to say it?" I smirked. "You want me to tell them that I tried to shoot the poor kid?"

I could hear at least one person suck in a breath, and I was honestly expecting a more audible sound, but it was obvious that people were now scared.

I stepped away from the wall, and Daryl tried to catch my arm but I flicked him away. I took steady steps towards the officer line I was walking the line in a field sobriety test. I visibly saw Rick's jaw clench and his chest rise and fall stone-like.

When I got close to his face, I brought my hands behind my back and tilted on my heels. "Well, there you go officer - a room full of people don't like me anymore, exactly the way you like it."

"Marl-" a bony hand grabbed my upper arm and I brought my elbow up, hearing the person grunt when I hit them. At this, Rick immediately grabbed me around my upper body, wrapping his arms around me like a hug but it was the total opposite. I couldn't move my arms, and he picked me up.

I grunted as he turned around. "What are you doing!" I yelled at the top of my lungs. When I saw that it was Lori who I had hit, I understood why Rick would suddenly become this physical with me.

My legs kicked his own, and I heard everyone yelling mine and Rick's name as he made his way to the front door, kicking it open with his foot. When he got to the edge of the porch, just before walking down the steps, he started talking. "Don't you dare do that again, you hear me?" he hissed, his face twitching.

With my hands bound to my side, my eyebrows drew together before I brought my head back, and bringing it forward even faster. He didn't see my forehead collide with the bridge of his nose, his arms immediately dropping me and my body making its way down the steps, my ribs colliding awkwardly with the last one and knocking the wind out of me.

I coughed into the dirt for the second time that day.

I didn't let myself rest as I clambered to my feet, seeing my work as Rick had his hand catching the blood that was currently spurting from his nose. Lori held her arms around him, looking from her husband to me sporadically.

Everyone had congregated on the porch, looking at me like I was a wild animal in a zoo.

"Marley?" a small voice rose amongst the chaos. It was behind me and I looked there to see the twelve-year-old, clad in his sheriff's hat. I choked on some saliva for a moment, my eyes prickling and I didn't know why.

His eyes went from me to his father.

"What happened?" he asked, gaining the ears of all the adults around him.

Lori stretched her hand out to her son, who ran towards her being encompassed in her arms as he still kept his eyes going between me and the dark red that now stained his father's hands and face.

Despite being socked in the nose, and having to speak through a thick liquid, Rick still. "Give me your gun." He stood straighter, wiggling his fingers at me like he had done in the bar.

"No."

"You don't have a choice."

"Try me, bitch."

"I'll ask you one more time."

"Do you want me to have to break your nose... one more time?"

Rick took half a step forwards, ignoring his wife who pleaded us both to stop this duel. Before he could even touch the ground, Daryl brought a hand to his chest, suddenly emerging from the crowd.

He looked between us. "That ain' helpin'," he said to Rick, before replacing his path with his own. He bounced down the steps, and I could tell he was uncomfortable under people's stares.

He got closer to me, holding out his hand. I backed away from him.

"Marley," he pleaded, but it came out in desperation and annoyance. An odd combination coming from him since he had never been much of an extinguisher in situations like these. "You're acting like a damn spoilt child."

"It's my gun."

"It'll still be your gun, Marls," he nodded, his face lowering to mine. "Look, I don't know what act you're pulling here, but it's gonna get ya' exiled if ya' keep at it... sweetheart."

I reeled back my head, sucking in a breath. My chest felt stiff under his stare. He obviously grew impatient as I soon felt him undoing the buckles that lay across my chest, holding the way too big holster together.

"What I say about your hand?" I tried to hold it together, scrunching my eyebrows together in frustration. I felt like a child who was getting their candy taken away from them.

"Yeah, you may scare these assholes, but you don't even get me angry enough to kick yer ass," he muttered, too concentrated on undoing the holster.

"That doesn't make sense."

He only made a low noise as the guns fell from me and he was now holding them on the end of his finger as Andrea strode down to collect them.

And all I could do was stand there and look at him, as I was confused as to why my mind was breaking its own rules for him.

He looked to Andrea, who seemed to have least judgy eyes on the lot of them. "I got her."

Andrea nodded and turned around, waving to everyone. "All right, show's over people."

Surprisingly, everyone dispersed, either going back into the house or filtering around me and Daryl.

My teeth ground together, my eyes blinked fervently, and he just fucking stood there, staring back.

My hands clenched into tight fists beside me, my nails digging into my palms.

He eyed my hands, reaching down and uncurling my left one. "Don't do that," he said softly. "Don't make me sweep your mess up more times than I need, Marls." Under his breath, his voice sounded softer than he intended and I could it tell that it pained him to show how much he cared.

He brushed past me, almost knocking me to the ground.

+

*prepares to be hated*

marley, stale sin-amon roll, been in this world too long.

a shorter chapter for you guys since I just wanted to round off this episode.

I feel like no one likes Marley anymore or even this book and that always troubles me to write. I feel like every chapter is me diving into the deep end getting ready to be hated for what I'm putting Marley through and what she's doing. and it doesn't help that this chapter is a mess.

And how Darley has kind of taken a step back in this chapter won't make people happy. I just feel like a lot of people have stopped reading after I've made Marley kind of go to the dark side and side with Shane slightly.

but I hope some of you still like this book and remain loyal.

Because it hurts me too to put Darley through this.

- sylar