Red ~ TWD (Daryl Dixon)

Johnny and June

"These tracks are fresh. We should follow them," I said, crouching down, tracing the outline of a paw print.

The ground was covered in a thin layer of frost, but the tracks weren't filled with any snow which had been falling steadily since this morning. It was the first fresh tracks we'd seen in a month, and we desperately needed food. Fresh meat would do wonders for the health and morale of the group. We were starving. Our canned goods all but exhausted, and scavenging had yielded less than ideal results as of late.

"What is it?" Rick hollered back, walking over with Daryl in tow.

I scowled at him. "Do I look like Bear Grylls? Is this an episode of Naked and Afraid? Who cares what it is? It's a tracks and they're fresh."

Hunger did different things to different people. For me, it turned me into a raging, hungry, bitch, more so than usual. Daryl and Rick raised their eyebrows as I stood, scrubbing my face with my hands in agitation.

"Sorry."

Rick eyed me while Daryl knelt down to examine the paw prints. My eyes flicked away from his as I bit my lip. Things between us were back to normal since I came clean about my past for the most part.

After I calmed down and washed off as much blood as possible Daryl led me back to the highway, and our group who were anxiously awaiting our return. I tried to ignore the way my stomach bottomed out every time I thought about my murder spree.

The second I set foot on the highway Lori engulfed me in a sobbing hug, thanking me for saving her son with Rick right behind her, tears shimmering in his eyes. Their gratitude made me want to vomit, and a voice in my head reminded me, "you're not worthy". They had no idea the manner in which I'd saved Carl, and I was too chicken to tell them, too scared of what they might do once they found out. I kept my lips sealed like someone had super glued them, accepting joyous pats on the back and smiles while the dread swam in my system.

I knew I wasn't ready to tell the group, but Rick needed to know. He deserved to know. After everything he'd done for me it was the least I could do. Nothing said thank you like admitting you'd been lying for a year.

That night, with Daryl by my side, I guiding him far enough away from the group so we wouldn't be overheard. It took about three minutes of squirming and fidgeting before I finally worked up the nerve to give him the PG version of my "story". When I finished he didn't say anything. He hardly moved. The longer he was still and silent the more nervous I became, and my eyes flicked to Daryl. The hunter shifted noticeably closer to me, his body ready to spring into action at a moment's notice. It almost made me laugh. Despite what he witnessed today, and everything I'd told him he still felt the instinctual (irrational) need to protect me.

"So you were some kind of..." I kept my face carefully blank while Rick searched for the right word to describe my sketchy past. "Hitman?"

I tried not to flinch at the description. I wasn't sure if it was his choice of words or the accusation in his tone, but it hurt more than any physical blow I received today. The really crappy part was I didn't have a leg to stand on when it came to his verb selection. Sure, it was an abridged description, but for the sake of ending the conversation as quickly as possible I nodded.

Did the details really matter? I highly doubted it would change his opinion if I told him I only killed people 80% of the time, and the rest was intelligence gathering, hostage rescue, counterterrorism, and enemy infiltration. Once someone heard the word hitman everything else kinda faded to the background. I could be BFF's with Mother Teresa and it wouldn't make a difference at this point.

He looked to Daryl who was quiet beside me, arms crossed over his chest, face hard. He was so still it was just freaky. He was like a redneck statue of hotness. I didn't know what Rick was expecting from the man, but whatever it was he didn't find it as his eyes swiveled back to me.