Mercy

Mercy wasn't going to last long, and she knew she wasn't. It seemed that every hour brought new, intensified pain now. She had already lost her appetite for any kind of food, and they all knew what that meant. The ending to this situation was inevitable, but Daryl was still having trouble coming to grips with the reality of how it would all end for Mercy. She could see the conflict in his eyes every time he looked at her now, and it hurt knowing that she was only going to leave him brokenhearted.

"Daryl," Mercy whispered sometime that night. She was laying in one of the beds upstairs that he'd carried her up to a few hours before. It had been so hard for her to walk up the stairs, but she knew that she hadn't needed to worry about it because, like always, he'd had her back.

His head lifted up and she met his gaze, and her heart sunk once again. She could see so much emotion written across his sharp features. He'd been whittling a piece of wood in the corner of the room, and she couldn't help but smile when she recognized it as resembling the shape of what he believed the chupacabra from his childhood had looked like.

"Don't even say nothin', Mercy," he shook his head at her. "You ain't dyin' on me."

She gave him another sad look, biting her bottom lip in between her teeth. The sad fact of the matter was, she would die at the end of this. Maybe Daryl wouldn't be able to kill her because of his emotional attachment to her - and Mercy already knew that suicide wasn't something she could do to herself. But Merle? The eldest Dixon would have no problem killing her and she knew damn well that he'd probably take pleasure in it.

"I will, Daryl," she whispered back to him. "It's inevitable."

Neither of the two of them said a word, her sentence hanging heavy in the air. She felt so guilty for letting herself get bitten. It wasn't something that she had ever thought would happen to her. It was hard to imagine that, after she'd judged Derek and called him weak for getting bitten, she'd ended up in the very same spot.

"You know I ain't gonna let nothin' happen to you, right?"

His words were quiet, but the strength behind them shocked the hell out of Mercy. She had always known he cared about her - maybe even when he'd pretended to not care a couple days back. But she'd always known. Nothing would have ever been able to break the bond they'd shared as children. He'd put so much of his heart into keeping her safe back when they'd been younger, and her whole heart had belonged to him in return.

True devotion like that was a once in a lifetime thing, and it didn't just fade away because of time and distance. But she knew that death could break it - and it would, in this case. Nothing could stop the inevitable from happening, and history had always had a habit of repeating itself anyway. Mercy would die, probably soon and probably in a painful way. The only thing she could do now to ease Daryl's pain was talk him down as gently as she could.

"Daryl, come here," she murmured as she slid over underneath of the blankets so that there was space for him on the edge of the bed. She watched as his body flinched, almost like he hadn't been expecting something like that before he slowly got up and walked over to her, sitting down next to her on the mattress. His eyes stayed connected to hers, and she couldn't prevent the tears from welling up in her own as she reached up to touch the side of his face.

"Don't you do that," he told her harshly as he grabbed her hand, holding her frail fingers with his own rough ones. She just smiled sadly at him and wiped the tears away with the back of her other hand.

"You've got to let me let go," she murmured as she squeezed his fingers. "Daryl, please. Holding on isn't helping either of us. I've been bitten for a little over twenty-four hours now, and we both know I'm getting worse with every hour. I probably won't last through tomorrow night before I..."

She trailed her sentence off, her bottom lip quivering before she regained her composure and continued speaking.

"I know that it's hard, Daryl. And I'll never stop apologizing for having to leave you again. But that's what's going to happen, Daryl. I'm going to die, and there's nothing either one of us can do about it. The easiest thing for you to do is to let me go."

Daryl just shook his head. There was no way he was going to let go of Mercy, and she could see that now just by the look on his face. She wished more than anything that she could make it easier for him. It pained her, thinking of how devastated he was going to be when she died. It would be the hardest thing in the world for him to get through, but she knew that he would. The Dixons were nothing if not strong, and Daryl was no exception to that.

"Look at me," she whispered as she grabbed both sides of his face. "You'll make it, Daryl."

He swallowed hard and she could see how hard he was trying to hide the pain inside of him before he pulled her closer to him, wrapping his arms around her and letting her head rest on his shoulder as she let a few tears slip out of her eyes. It wasn't any easier for her to cope with her own death, either, and he knew that, too.

"I can't lose you," he murmured softly.

She didn't reply to him because nothing she could say would make him feel any better. If she told him she'd be fine, it would be a lie because they both knew just by the drastic turn her health had taken that she would not be okay. She was already dying and they could both see that. Words couldn't fix a circumstance like this.

"I'll always be in your heart, Daryl, just like I was when I left Georgia the first time," she promised him as she squeezed him tighter.

Her words sent a chill down Daryl's spine and he only shook his head harder as he held her. He was so damn stubborn, Mercy realized. It would never sink in to him that she had to leave until it happened. And then what would he do? She didn't want to die wondering if he'd be okay.

"Don't you go sayin' shit like that. You ain't goin' nowhere," he growled to her before he pulled back to look at her. "We'll find a way to fix that wound of yours. We'll--"

He was cut off by the sound of heavy footsteps coming up the stairwell before the bedroom door was pushed open. Merle was standing there, an angry expression on his face as well as concern. Mercy immediately realized that something had to be seriously wrong for him to be in the bedroom right now - he'd been avoiding her like the plague since the sun had gone down.

"We've got a problem, baby brother," he told Daryl before he walked over to the window. "Ian must have figured out that we got outta that house because there's people closing in on every side of us."

"We'll fight them off, then," Daryl snapped as he held Mercy even tighter. "We're more than capable of takin' out a couple of--"

"They don't plan to fight, you stupid motherfucker," Merle growled at him as he looked out the window. "They brought more walkers with 'em. More than were in that house."

Mercy looked up at Daryl and swallowed hard.

"Daryl, you should go," she told him before looking at Merle. "You both should go. I'm already bitten, it won't matter if they get me anyway. I'll only hold you back."

"No," Daryl growled angrily as he held her tighter. "We ain't gonna leave you here. We either take her with us or we sit here, Merle. What's it gonna be?"

Merle looked conflicted. He looked as though he wasn't sure what to do. He knew what his gut was telling him to do - let Mercy rot and get himself and Daryl out of there alive. But Mercy could see the subtle empathy on his facial features and he cursed under his breath as he nodded.

"We take her with," Merle finally agreed as he grabbed her arm once he walked over to her. "Daryl, you walk ahead. Ain't no way you gonna be able to carry her and defend yourself, she's easier for me to lift since I'm bigger."

Daryl looked like he was going to argue with his older brother but Mercy shook her head as she touched his cheek.

"It's fine, Daryl."

He opened his mouth to argue but nodded as he started walking towards the door. He was already carrying all the knives that hadn't been taken away from them by Ian.

"Shit," Daryl growled under his breath once they reached the bottom of the stairs. They weren't hearing footsteps outside like Mercy had been expecting - they were hearing trucks. Mercy's eyes widened and she looked at Merle, shock on her face.

"What's going on?"

"They're setting walkers loose," Merle told her as he set her down on her feet. "Me and Daryl knew they had a place full of ones that they'd trapped, we just never found it. Guess they found us."

Merle nodded as he turned to face Daryl before he cleared his throat, pulling a gun from his pocket.

"This changes everything, baby brother. Ain't no way we'll make it out of here alive carryin' someone who's already half dead."