"Presley!"

Daryl cursed himself. If one more damn person says her name they're gonna get socked in the face. He watched with a frown as Mika ran past, following by the loping Zeva. He turned to see Presley lean down to embrace Mika, pulling the girl into the air and spinning around. Zeva hopped on her hind legs, letting out a shrill yip.

Pathetic. He felt pathetic. Watching her with that thin smile on her face made him roll with jealousy, but of what? Nothing. He was jealous of absolutely nothing because nothing was making her happy. He wanted to be the one who caused that happiness, but all he did was piss her off. Feeling pain towards her smile, he turned away, grumbling softly to himself.

"Somebody's cranky." A sarcastic voice commented. He didn't have to look to know that it was Carol. She wasn't the only one who saw his frustration towards Presley, for Michonne saw it as well. The two just sat and watched, as if reading a really good story out of a book. This wasn't a damn story, it was hell. Daryl ran a hand through his hair, looking at Carol in annoyance.

"I am not cranky." He protested with a rumble, looking back over to Presley, who was now kneeling beside Mika. He frowned when he saw Stefan approaching the two, the same stupid smile portrayed on his face. Fuck you. As if Stefan had heard Daryl's harsh words, he looked up, the dumb-ass smile on his face never faltering. Daryl simply turned back to Carol. "There's fucking dead people walking around and they're over t'ere screaming and having a little tea party."

Carol rolled her eyes, giving Daryl a friendly punch to the shoulder. He looked at the elder woman with annoyance. "I know it's beyond that. You'd be perfectly fine with the noise if it were you there instead of Stefan or Mika." Carol said, offering a small smile. She didn't pause to give him time to answer, simply looped her arm through his and started walking. "But you'll come to find that you're not the only jealous one around here."

He looked back over to Presley, finding that she was watching himself and Carol. A small frown now added the slightest imperfection to her face, but she looked away before he could do anything. Carol continued to lead him away, and he let her.

"You'll get her, but you can't keep standing off to the side and waiting for her to come dashing into your arms." She said, pulling away from him.

"She is careless."

"And so are you." The woman retorted, jabbing Daryl in the chest. "You can't protect her- she's a stick of dynamite that's just waiting to go off... But so are you, Daryl." She said, stepping closer. "That's why you two don't seem compatible- you're both the same."

"Me an' that she-devil are nothing alike." Daryl spat, but horror was unleashed as he soon came to realize that Carol was right. All this time he'd been trying to hold back an open flame, when that was impossible. You had to guide it. He'd been about Presley all wrong.

He nearly kicked himself for just realizing that now.

He was trying to use his breath to blow out a wild fire, instead of using the river to redirect it. Presley couldn't be stopped, but she could be controlled. He looked down at Carol, and she smiled in amusement as the cognizance came upon him. Suddenly he turned, marching away from Carol quite quickly. She was left alone with a bright smile on her face.

- - -

"Beth, how long has it been since you've ridden a horse?" Presley asked. She sat on the wooden fence, balanced perfectly with her hands in her lap. Beth had a rope tied loosely around the horse's neck, but beyond that, no other equipment. Presley tossed a stale cracker into her mouth, watching Beth with curious eyes.

"Not for a long, long time." She muttered as she led the mare to the edge of the fence. "Could you hold her for a minute?" Brushing the crumbs off her hands, Presley hopped down from the fence and approached the mare, who simply looked annoyed.

"Hey girl." She cooed, standing in front of the mare and doing her best to hold her still as Beth climbed on. The mount wasn't graceful, but surprisingly, the mare didn't seem to mind. She simply flicked her ear and sidestepped once Beth was positioned right, and Presley stepped away. "You sure I shouldn't get Maggie? Or Michonne?"

"I'm alright." Beth insisted, getting positioned. Presley chuckled as the horse started at a steady walk, tossing her head when a fly buzzed past her eye. After a few practice rounds around the small pen, Beth managed to urge the horse into a trot, and then pointed at the fence. Without another word needed, Presley untethered the gate and swung it open, watching as Beth brought the horse out of the small pen. Within just a few moments of the newfound freedom, Beth had the horse cantering through the prison. Zeva cowered beside Presley, watching the horse with wide brown eyes. "Oh don't be a wuss." She laughed, patting the dog on the head as she continued to watch Beth and the horse.

Beth was young, just as Carl was, but somehow she seemed to be more oblivious to the world. She held onto hope with a deathgrip, while the rest of the group had already let go for the most part. While they believed that the world would never be the same, she had this false hope that some day, it would all go back to the way it was. When gold mattered instead of guns and knives, when highschool drama was the only thing a sixteen year old had to worry about.

Presley? It was hard to say what she believed in. She believed in today. Not tomorrow, not yesterday. While the others scrambled to figure out next week, she was perfectly content with remaining just as she was, surviving the day and hoping for a tomorrow.

"Where's the saddle?" A masculine voice asked. She turned her head, offering a small smile. He didn't seem angry, simply worried.

"The girl grew up on a farm, Rick." She noted, looking back to Beth. The smile on her face was radiant. "I doubt this even compares to half the things they did out there." She leaned against the fence. "Let the girl have a little fun, just this once. We need an escape from reality, and we can't rely on our dreams anymore, for they're only nightmares."

Rick looked at Presley with a confused glare. She smirked, but didn't look at him. "You speak in riddles and puzzles." He commented.

She simply shrugged. "Life is a riddle and a puzzle, just a really, really big one." Rick chuckled, ruffling Presley's hair. The peace was lovely, but too short.

Oh, how it was too short.

Gunfire rang out through the prison yard, startling everybody. Without thinking, Presley shoved herself into Rick, pushing him into the ground. She rolled onto her back, pulling out her pistol and checking herself for ammo. Full, as always. "You got a gun?" She asked him, heart racing a million miles an hour. He looked pale as a ghost. "Rick, snap out of it!" She hissed, roughly shoving his shoulder. He shook his head, pushing his hair back.

"Yeah, yeah I got one." He said, reaching for his revolver. Presley didn't watch any more. She rolled onto her stomach, sprinting towards the prison. She remained low, but she knew that she had been spotted, due to the gunfire that stirred the dirt behind her. She ducked behind the building, looking out to Beth. She was still on the horse, hanging on for dear life as the mare reared out of fright.

She cursed to herself, raising her gun and peering around the edge of the building. The Governor had already invaded their gates. Presley slipped through the gate, grabbing two guns without really looking at what they were. Within moments, she was sprinting back to Beth. The mare had thrown her, so she now laid out on the ground.

Presley slid to the ground, nearly colliding with Beth in the meantime. She gave one of the two guns to the blonde, taking a look at her own and checking the ammo once again. "Beth, Beth look at me." Presley coaxed. The hysterical girl looked at Presley, tears streaming down her face. The girl was looking past Presley, screaming incoherent words. Confused, Presley turned, freezing at the sight.

The Governor's men had two people, dragging them out into the yard. The gunfire ceased and everybody went still as the Governor appeared. Presley stood, approaching the man confidently. The two people were pushed down to their knees, forced to look at the ground.

Lori and Hershal. Presley stopped, nearly stumbling and hitting the ground. She watched in horror as the Governor lifted his gun towards Lori's head. The woman cried out, shaking her head and yelling words that passed right through everybody. They were all too stunned to understand.

It's okay Carl. Lori screamed. I love you, both of you. It was like she knew that this was the end of her line. Presley began sprinting towards them, but a force tumbled into her, tackling her to the ground. She screamed when the gunfire rang, knowing that it was the end of Lori's life.

"Let go of me!" Presley screamed, fighting the strong arms. Daryl don't do this. She pleaded silently, fighting him with every ounce of energy she had. She sobbed when he pulled her face into the chest, and screamed when the second shot fired. And then, the gunfire was neverending.

She heard shouting and gunfire, but beyond that, she couldn't understand anything. Daryl was now shaking her shoulders and trying to get her to snap out of it, but her eyes were focused on the still bodies of Lori and Hershal. She had never been a fan of Lori, but that woman loved Carl and Judith more than life itself. She felt bad because she could feel the distance between her and Rick, ever since the moment she had come here.

And then there was Hershal. Lord, she felt so bad for Beth and Maggie. Beth. At the thought of the young girl, Presley twisted, only to find that Beth was no longer there. That could either be a good thing or a bad thing.

"I'm getting you out of here." Were the first words that had come to her that she actually understood. She twisted to look at Daryl, shaking her head.

"What? No! Daryl, I'm not going." She said, trying to pull herself away from her. She hadn't even realized that she was crying until her vision blurred with tears. "Let go of me!" She begged, she pleaded, but Daryl's grip on her wouldn't loosen. "Don't be a coward!"

Daryl turned her sharply so that she was facing him, taking her face between his fingers. He crushed his lips against hers and pulled away, resting his forehead on hers. "Please, Pres. Get out of here... I'll find you. I'll always find you." He said, pushing a tendril of hair behind her ear. She looked beautiful, even in tears.

Stefan was already running towards Presley and Daryl, a bag slung over his shoulder. Presley was gripping Daryl's hands, shaking her head no, pleading softly. "Daryl, please." She begged more. "Please." Daryl's hand lingered on her cheek as Stefan drew her away. This time, she didn't struggle. He pulled her away, forcing her to duck her head down so that it wasn't blown off.

The Governor wasn't here to reason anymore- this was a slaughterhouse.

Daryl lifted his gun, ignoring the tight feeling in his throat as he watched Stefan take her away. He'll keep her safe. He tried to tell himself. You'll find her, you promised. And yet, he doubted himself.

Carefully, he followed a ways behind Stefan and Presley, covering them to the best of his ability. People were filing onto the bus, but he had already told Stefan to keep her off that damn thing. He was leading her to the Jeep, which was loaded and stocked, just as it always was. He stood off to the side, firing down people who even got into range. He couldn't take any more chances. He glanced over, making sure that Presley wasn't struggling. She wasn't. She was curled up in the passenger's side, gun firing off at people he couldn't see from this angle. Even from here he could see her brave eyes, taut lips. To see her cry crushed him, especially since he knew why.

He turned, knowing his next quest.

"You ready?" Michonne asked him, coming up beside him. He turned, seeing Stefan drive right through the chain links. There she went.

"Ready." Daryl confirmed. Tonight would be the night that the Governor's charades were over.

- - -

Presley sat in the passenger's side. She hadn't said anything, she didn't even look alive anymore. Stefan wanted nothing more than to comfort her, but he didn't know how. She was too complex, too... Different. She wasn't like most girls, as most girls were dead. The girls now were hard as rocks, and then there was Presley, who was about as hard as steel.

"I'm sorry about Daryl..." He said suddenly, awkwardly. He knew that there was some sort of chemistry between the two. He could practically see the hairs rise on their arms when they brushed together, and the cow-eyes they got when they saw each other. They didn't no know it themselves, but he saw it. Stefan saw every part of it, and it killed him every time.

He would never be selfish. He wanted her happiness, but he wanted it with himself. He wanted her to look at him the way that she looked at Daryl... If she ever looked at Daryl again.

"You take 'er and get the hell out of here. Drive, and drive, and drive. Don't look back, Stefan, don't ye dare look back. Drive east on the highway until ye run out of gas. I'll find 'er, you just keep 'er alive."

And that was what Stefan was going to do.

"He'll find me." She replied simply, not looking over at him. Her blue eyes were no longer pink and puffy, just distant. "He promised."

"Pres-." She turned and glared at him, blue eyes darkened to a shade that he had never seen before. Pain, fear. So many emotions reflected in them.

"He promised." She repeated, her voice was quieter, but somehow more firm. Stefan glanced at her and then glanced away. He was too tired to argue with her right now, but he didn't want her to get her hopes up. It'd kill him to see her happy, only to have her dreams crushed to find that he wasn't coming.

"Alright. He'll find you."

- - -

Yass here's another chapter. whaaaatttt a double update?! What are this?

Are ya'll liking this daily chapter thing, or nah? Seriously though, tell me, because I can space them out too

What do you prefer? Short, quick chapters, or long chapters that don't get posted for a week or so. Tell me in the comments

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