"Daar buiten loopt een schaap..."

No one told me it would be this way. No one tells you these things, they don't even prepare you for it - the mere possibility. Not even what our once normal world had installed, but this one was much worse.

But I knew, and I know, this isn't the way it's supposed to be. This isn't the way it's supposed to be. Nobody is supposed to hurt this much, but I figured, it had to be someone. And it was me.

"Een schaap met witte voetjes..."

My body felt like it weighed a thousand pounds, each breathe, inhale or exhale took more energy than it should have. And that gave me a clear sign that something was wrong.

"Die drinkt zijn melk zo zoetjes."

Along with each word that escaped me, the ones taught by my father, I could hear Daryl and Rick still banging endlessly on the door. And I wished I could just get up and open it. But I was too busy trying to breathe.

I gritted my teeth, moving the arm beneath me to a better position, reaching out onto the floor with my palm downwards. My nails scratched the floor, as I tried to grasp some sense of leveling around me. Each muscle in my abdomen and upper body rippled under the pressure, and I felt the heat come over me, unlike before when cold was all I knew.

I did everything in my power to turn my body onto its front, hearing my own hoarse breath leave my lips in a guttural gasp.

Laying heavily on my wounds, I now used both arms, pushing my elbows into the floor and lifting my chin from the ground.

I must have looked, let alone felt, like those undead monsters we fought every day. The ones who, when we stared into what face they had left, all I saw was disparity and desperation.

I pulled forward, dragging the rest of my body across the floor, but my whole being protested as a squeak echoed in my ears, and I heard my own calls to stop and give up.

My body fell once again, onto the floor, and I turned my face to let my cheek press itself into the tiles below. Tears streamed downwards, trailing past the bridge of my nose, and onto the floor. It wet the surface, turning red as I pressed a light fingerprint into the pattern.

I gasped once and twice, playing with the fabric of my clothes to press it further into the blood that painted my front.

I couldn't exactly make out the words Daryl was saying, just that he said them so loud, I heard it knock against the metal door, along with his fists.

I whimpered, taking in my view of the bodies around me. I only took in air, continuously breathing in every half second. I could not breathe out, and I could feel my ribs caving in.

"Oh my-" a voice, much louder than the two behind the door, came from above me and I reached my free hand around the back of my body to try and shield away from anything coming.

Quick footsteps and deft hands came up my back and sides and I almost cried out in protest until it was all paired with a recognizable voice. "Jesus, Mar'."

"Gle-," I coughed, and used my hand I once used to shield myself, to frantically point at the door. "The door! The door!" My voice was high with desperation and worry.

Someone followed my orders, as Glenn kept beside me, moving the hair from my eyes.

T-Dog ran to the handle, pulling quickly and heavily until it threw itself open. I couldn't see properly, but the once shouting voices faded as the two men were given freedom.

"Laura?" I heard Harvey's tone fill with tears, and it only made me breathe in faster. To the point where my vision was blurring at the blinding point of panic.

"Oh my god!"

"What happened, wha-?"

"Marley, what... what?"

All voices fading into one question asking me what happened. What happened to Laura? What happened to these men? What happened to me?

"Marley, you need to breathe," Daryl's voice rose above all the others, and I searched wildly for his face but saw nothing.

Multiple ghosting hands came up to my back and head, trying to steady my lungs. It didn't suffice as my vision was still blurred, and it seemed that whatever I had inside me was slowly chipping away. Old walls put up, being torn down by the knife that had been in my gut.

"Marley? Marley? Are you listening? Mar?" Rick leaned close to the floor, coming into my view. "We're gonna flip you over, okay?"

"No," is all I could say, my throat clenching down. "N-"

"Yes," he affirmed gently, moving so he was ready to flip me onto my back. "We have to."

"It's gonna be okay, Marley," Glenn was on the other side of me. All voices that weren't the first I wanted to hear. I needed familiarity. Painstaking familiarity.

Something to anchor me down, pull me through the fog.

"No," I affirmed in my own voice, nudging weakly at the hands starting to move me. My knuckles hit Rick's arm in a pathetic pat, and I gritted my teeth as my body was being turned.

I yelped, my body jolting away like an old reflex I forgot I had. I felt trickles on my ribs, and whilst letting my eyes wander, I pressed firmly into my tender flesh.

A lot seemed to be going on around me, yet I had tunnel vision. Only focused on the minor details that seemed to set my mind on edge. Just on the brink, hanging by a single thread.

"Wha-" my words ended in a stuttered breath. "What's going on?" Two other hands quickly moved my own, raising my shirt from where it stuck to my skin. It peeled away, spilling redder as I continued pressing my hands down. I hissed, furrowing my brows to a point of buzzing noise to echo in my ear.

"Jesus."

"Oh my god."

"We need to move now. Glenn, keep your hands there. Will, your belt, now! Daryl! Daryl, listen!" Rick sounded desperate, and I could see his silhouette hovering above me. Fine lines at his edges glitched frantically, as he looked around at us all.

Glenn opened his palms widely on my abdomen, and I let out a haulted scream, squirming on the floor. "No-n-Glenn."

He leaned over, keeping his hands just as firm despite the tears of protest that rolled down my cheeks. I pressed my lips together, letting my arms fall.Glenn stuttered himself, not bothering to flick the hair falling in his eyes. "You're gonna be okay. Marley, you're gonna pull through. You have to."

Above all that, Rick's yelling voice. "Daryl! You need to listen! Get over here, and hold her hands!"

The harsh snap of leather came to my ears, and my eyes immediately turned to it, as Rick leaned on one knee with the piece of clothing between his hands. He brought the back of his hand to his forehead, wiping the sweat that accumulated there.

Sweat, blood, and sounds of panted breaths and small "no's" that left Harvey's lips. Harvey and Will stood side by side, letting Laura's body fall from their gaze. T-Dog stood at the entrance to the room, glancing anxiously back and forth between me and the outside.

I only noticed Daryl when he knelt at the foot of my head, reaching forward over my eyes and taking my slick hands in his own. Running gentle movements over the top of my hands, and knuckles. I looked at them joined together, like paint brushing canvas, overflowing water, the last words that rain utters falling to the ground. I didn't understand.

I swallowed heavily.

"Sit her up; slowly," Rick said softly, touching a hand over where Glenn pressed firmly. And I almost felt the minuscule vibration on my spine, shocking up my senses.

"No, no, no, no," I sounded pathetic and small, moving my arms to shield away from all around me. But Daryl grasped them gently, folding them over my chest as he shuffled forward on his knees to sit me up.

I sunk into his hold, hiding my running nose and teary face in his sleeve. I kicked out my legs, trying to fend myself from the hurt that strung itself through my veins. Trudging unevenly through each nerve and sense I never thought I had.

Something snaked around my waist and came together over my open wounds. I gripped Daryl's arms tightly, suddenly knowing how much pain I was about to be in. Daryl did his best to keep me still, and I could feel his uneven breath fan across my neck. The belt closed in, and I closed my eyes as it seemed to take an eternity to tighten itself around my ribs.

"I'm sorry," Rick yelled, tears and regret evident in his voice as I kicked out blindly like a child being dragged somewhere they really didn't want to go. All these things, I did not want. I did not want to hurt so much.

There's no presumptuous warning to it... unless you do it to yourself.

It finally wrung tight, and I let my mouth open wide with a haunting and desperate scream - speaking calls for help, and mercy in a thousand languages. An ancient calling all humanity recognizes as being extremely bad.

Daryl pressed his chest tightly to my back, my shoulders fitting in his hunched stance over my smaller body.

Rick clipped the belt, letting the item seem to hold whatever I had left together. Like a falling structure, crumbling in all the places you weren't holding onto enough.

"C'mon," Rick instructed, and I could only just hear him above the ringing in my ears. It left me disoriented and foggy, and I felt like I was about to throw up everything that was inside me. An overbearing sensation holding all control I had earned this past year, at bay. "T-Dog, get to the cars, drive ahead. Harvey, Will, go with him!" All men jumped into action, gathering their bags and weapons to leave.

I shook and jolted in a warm, relentless hold. It held me close, and steady. I could feel the anxiety pumping through his blood as his hands didn't hold even over my arms. The fact that he didn't say a single word assured me he was nervous, and unable to comprehend the situation just as much as my view blurred. No words left me.

As they left, it turned into hushes - like the three people left were scared to say something that could potentially hit too hard.

"Let's go!" Rick waved over to himself, and the arms around me moved. Daryl kept a palm spread across the small of my back as his other hand went under my knees. With a low noise, he lifted me from the cold ground - against his chest in a quick, swift motion. It left me almost breathless as I let his grip embrace me.

In the corner of my eye, I watched them run. Down narrow corridors, all shining with hard tiles, paper, and trash strewn over the walls and ground like a forgotten art project. Everything blurred into one big riddle, creating lines in my eyes like dark fallen stars.

Each time Daryl ran a step, it sent shockwaves through his legs to his arms to my body, and each time I gripped his jacket harder and squeaked through my lips. Each time, I yelped helplessly like a small broken animal.

I had lost our sense of direction, especially when the light of outside blinded me suddenly. I turned into Daryl's neck, closing my eyes tightly. I felt my heart thump heavily, unsteadily, and slow. Much different to my lungs, which seemed to race at a worrying pace.

"Get in!" Glenn's voice was powerful in the empty parking lot, and I glanced at the stained ground where the other car used to be - now gone, as T-Dog, Harvey, and Will. It was only then I realized, we had left Laura's body in that place.

I let my head fall, looking past Daryl's shoulder and to the doors of the shopping centre; seeming to give a goodbye to the girl with too much emotion for someone who was incapable of giving it back.

The interior of the car was now my view. The felt ceiling and torn chairs, and my neck fell limply against Daryl's shoulder. I watched as he sat, and Glenn helped pull my legs in the rest of the way. All my strength was whittling slowly, steadily, up my body and all to my thoughts. My brain running wild, as all it could do was think.

Daryl ran his hand over my knees, pulling me further towards him and moving in his seat to get me in a comfortable position. Glenn reached quickly over, running the old seatbelt over both our bodies that lay too close for it not to mean something.

The man, at the sound of the engine and multiple doors shutting, let his grasp slip over my arms, squeezing them in reassurance - for him or myself, I didn't know. The belt sat awkwardly around me, sticking into all that fell from me, and I could almost taste the leather tainted blood slip up my throat.

He hadn't looked at me for even a moment, not directly, and I longed for his calming blue eyes. It was the only source of pain relief I knew would work in an instance. I swallowed my fear, basked in the steady rumble of the engine, and held tightly onto the hand Glenn had slipped between the seats.

I ignored the passing trees, it all being nothing but things I had seen before, wonderful natural colours running wild over the windows. I ignored the rushed breaths coming from all our mouths, including mine.

"Daryl," I whispered, tugging lightly on his sleeve. He took a moment to blow out a breath of air. He avoided the red, the utter suffering that dripped from my skin, just as much as the blood did. "Just look at me... please. Daryl." I kept my voice at the lowest decibels like these words only belonged to him, and not even to me.

He finally flicked his eyes to mine, every feature of him shook. A delicate glance, guarded and worried beyond belief. And I was sure I could see tears, being held tightly inside him, behind the blue. His hair was getting long, becoming his mask for structure. Becoming his shield against showing all his emotions.

I just kept looking at him, he followed my request, keeping himself turned towards me so I could take in all that he was. A big mess... just like me.

"Daryl," I quietly started, my bottom lip wobbled. "I'm sorry."

He didn't need to say anything, not a word, but only made his head shake lightly, a determined and almost angered expression.

"You didn't need to look after me," Glenn's hand was still in mine, and it squeezed at my words. "But you did - and I fucked up so bad. I fucked up so much, Daryl."

"... I'm sorry I fucked up."

His word was short and hard. "Stop."

I ignored him, tugging on his sleeve again. "You need to forget about me... but-" I choked, and coughed. "I don't want you to." My mind was surprisingly calm, like a heartbeat was in my brain, steadily clicking to a universal beat. "I'm sorry-'m so sorry."

"Marley," Glenn leaned over the passenger seat, but I didn't look at him, instead, watching Daryl glance over at my friend. "You're gonna make it okay. You've been through the worst shit - and you're still here. You're amazing. You've pulled through everything, and come out the other side. You're not... going now."

I fluttered my lashes at Daryl, waiting for his eyes to come back to my own. And when he did, I shook my head in the smallest ways. "You-... I don't know."

Rick slammed on the breaks, and I heard the high sound of the wheels sliding on the ground. More sounds echoed, and bounced around, and they were all there to potentially distract me. But I kept my eyes on Daryl, glancing around each every single feature, trying to map them out in memory. Him being the centre, surrounded by nothing but fogged glass. Frosted over and having a warm, blue centre.

The door next to us opened, and I gritted my teeth as I was once again moved, moving my hand to grip the nape of Daryl's neck.

He must have moved like lightning, because we were in the corridor of the house in one moment, and the next we were in a bedroom. My shoes knocked against the frame of the door, and I looked around to more faces.

Maggie kneeled on the other side of the bed, hands gripping the thin sheets. Hershel stood on the near side. There was Carol, Glenn, T-Dog, Rick. And then there was me, coming towards the bed like a piece of meat. And I couldn't help the loud yell I let out, as the springs stuck into my back and the belt dug deeper into my side. A makeshift tourniquet that pained me in more ways than I could imagine.

Something set into action amongst them all, busy helping hands and argumentative voices lifted above me. Floating over all I could see, the faint patterns on the wall catching my eyes. Tears I should have shed a long time ago, accumulating on the sheets. Maggie brushed the hair and wetness from my cheeks, gathering her warm palms over my ears.

Until Hershel reached for the belt, and the slightest movement his hand made sent me spiralling into a panic. Yelling out and staring wide-eyed, around me, becoming hysterical and manic. Maggie and Glenn reached for my shoulders. All these people I knew suddenly feeling like utter strangers. All of them shouting my name, and it sounded wrong. Hands reaching to steady me, to hold me down.

I screamed loud into the air, shouting words. "Please! Don't hurt me! Plea- don't hurt me. Don't hurt me please!" My throat expelled harrowing sounds and the taste of blood. Staining my teeth with terror on the way over.

The hands pushed me down, sending me to the bed in a jolt. Like one of electricity. Dark, painful electricity. All faults, in one movement, all thoughts, flushed with shock.

And I thought, in a gasp, I could close my eyes briefly once more. My chin tilted upwards, neck hanging my heavy head over the edge of the surface. At the brink of the break, hanging by a tiny thread. Once more, I was losing myself, letting all I was go downwards.

I felt like the world was letting me go...

and the world let her go.

Daryl stood there, noticing, as no one else did. How her pink features started fading. The tip of her nose that once glowed, it turned bleak. But she didn't look like someone who no longer drew breath. She didn't look like his worst nightmare.

And that was the worst thing about - she still looked like Marley.

No uneven cries, shaking hands, eyes that drew him in like the draw of a bow. Efficiently dangerous and alluring.

Pretty girl; vicious mind.

This was not his pretty girl with fire in her veins, the one who forced him open. The one who practically dug around his heart, and presented a glow he had never seen before. Northern lights had nothing on her soul, showing more colours each day. Of red, and gold, and green, and so much red. Now so much it stained him too. Pinpointing was not an option.

She was his ambiguous creature, one who was nocturnal and breathed intoxicating sweetness. One he had tasted before.

So this was not his Marley, and he clenched his fists at his side. He almost let his legs collapse beneath himself, before seeing Glenn's come to grab her face and call out her name. A crying plea, into something that would not reply. No deity could remake this girl.

This was not his Marley, yet it was exactly her, and that was the problem.

One he couldn't face, as he turned his eyes over his shoulder. He turned on his heels, hearing nothing but her name from those people's lips - no way they could say it the way he did.

The forest came into view, as he reached the lip of the front door.

He made it so he could not see, or hear whatever she was, out there.

○○○

I'm sorry... but this is not the last chapter

I'm sorry

- sylar