The Woman at The End of The World. (Daryl Dixon)

six.

The next morning, I crawl out of my tent, strolling over to the campsite. The events from yesterday keep replaying in my head. I rub my face, swearing to myself I'll never speak what Daryl said to another living human. He already barely likes me; I don't need him to turn his wrath onto me. Plus, it wasn't anyone's business, not even mine.

"Good morning, Vanessa," Glenn waves at me. I smile. Besides the well incident, he's a pretty decent guy. He's never shown me any type of animosity.

I almost run in Andrea as she comes out of Daryl's tent. "Sorry," I mumble, still trying to wake up. Huh, looks like they made up, I thought. Good for them.

I strongly dislike mornings, I groan inwardly.

"Aye Blue, can I talk to ya?" He calls out as I'm walking by. I waver, turning to face him, hand resting on my hip, seeing he's lying down. I purse my lips, studying him. He's not going to be looking for Sophia today. I don't see Hershel letting him go anywhere. The hunter is stuck being bed ridden. At least, he's alive and on the mend. He's looking a lot better than he did yesterday when I found him.

He motions for me to come in and sit down. Hesitantly, I follow his request. Curious about what he wants; we were barely acquaintances, let alone friends. I crotch down, sitting across from him.

"You punched Andrea for shootin' me."

Pointing to his head, "she could've killed you. You're lucky she missed, or my words would be ringing true right now." I glance down, still upset with myself about what I said.

He grunts in acknowledgment. I take it as a sign that was all he wanted; I begin to stand up.

"I'm sorry for what I said to ya the other day." He adds quietly, stopping me from leaving. "Thank ya for helpin' me."

I gasp, jokingly place a hand over my heart, "Is the mighty Daryl Dixon apologizing to little ole me? Someone write this down!!" I grin as he rolls his eyes at me. "We're good, no worries."

"Funny. You took down that walker yesterday. Your husband taught you?"

"Ex. Yes. He was in the army." I pause, wondering if I could trust him, "I was pregnant, so I wanted to learn to protect me and mine." I got an idea of how broken he is, realizing I should give him the same courtesy, give him some level of trust.

"I didn't know ya had a kid."

I sigh, lowering myself back down, "I lost her halfway through the pregnancy. She had a birth defect..." Biting my lip, remembering her, "She wasn't going to make it if I went full term. I made a tough call and had her at 21 weeks. She would be 4 this year." I speak barely above a whisper. I unconsciously rub my arm where I had her memory tattooed on me. Her tiny feet and hands surrounded by angel wings. I notice he was watching me, eyes flicking to my hands, his expression unreadable. I glance away, not wanting to see the sympathy in his eyes. I didn't need it.

I've lost too much in 25 years. I'm tired of everyone's sympathy.

I feel the tears build behind my eyes. Damn myself, I hate crying. I hate looking weak. Shaking my head, hoping it'll stop the fall of tears.

I press on, "we got divorced. Most relationships don't come back from that loss." Shrugging, I know Jordan blamed me. I blame me.

"I'm sorry. When I go out next to look for Sophia, I want you to come with me. You're a good shot, I could use ya help." A ghost of a smirk forms on his beautiful face. Nodding, I stand, turning to leave. He needs rest, not listen to my traumatic life pre apocalypse.

"What was her name?" I hear him ask from behind me.

Not turning around, "Luna Lee." I glance over my shoulder, "oh, and Daryl? I won't speak a word of what I heard yesterday to anyone. I promise." I leave.