I do not own any of The Walking Dead characters.

This is a one shot that I'm doing to try out another character. If you like her please let me know so that I can think about writing an actual story about her and Daryl.

Rated M for intense violence and sexual themes including implied rape.


The Silence

He found her in the woods, beaten, bloody…naked. Very naked in the worst way. Her tiny, slender body was sprawled out against the contrasting rocks and glass, limbs hanging around her like a puppet master had cut her strings. Her slim body was covered with long cuts and contusions, red, inflamed and angry in the autumn sunlight. At one point she had been beautiful, he speculated. At one point her skin had held a sun streaked glow. Now it was pale from blood loose.

His crystal blue eyes moved down her slim body and he noticed and much of the blood was centered in between her thighs. She had been violated, in the most angry ways possible. He looked around the woods, seeing bottle, broken glass, sticks. He pursed his thin lips and looked down at the body. This was what the world had come to hum? Violating little girls for the fun of it? Fuck.

He leaned over the form. He thought that she was dead but the moment he saw her face he knew he was wrong. That would have been too kind. Her bright green eyes looked up at him, the only part of her that moved, pupils dilated with pain. They were almost too big for her blood smeared face. He felt his heart tighten up as her eyes trapped his blue ones. Oh Christ, he thought to himself. Even if this girls body was dead she sure as fuck wasn't.

The hunter locked eyes with hers as his calloused fingers found the buttons on his shirt. He undid them, one by one, never letting go of her eyes. He was trying to assure her but didn't know how. Her big green orbs were wide. Searching over his face with one word planted in them. Enemy.

"I aint gunna hurt ya." His voice was firm, final, commanding. She didn't say a word in return. He finished unbuttoning his shirt and pulled it around her, lifting her limp body as he did. His hands became coated in her sticky blood. It ran down his arms as he finished wrapping her up. She didn't answer, didn't make a sound. Even when he picked her limp body up she didn't squeal in pain or whimper.

"What's yer name girl?" Again, there was nothing. "Ya don't talk. I get it." He lifted her in his arms and held her for a moment, still limp in his arms. "Ima get ya out of here."

The silent girl looked at Daryl with big green eyes again as he grabbed her elbow and pulled her away from the camp. She didn't need to talk, her eyes said it all to him. She hadn't said a word since he had brought her back to the camp three weeks ago. No one had heard her voice…they didn't even know her name. He just called her 'girl' and everyone else followed. All they knew was that she had been raped and Daryl had brought her back barely alive.

He had watched her, studied her when Andrea and Lori had finally let her out of the tent. She had walked right up to Daryl and touched his face, fingers caressing the soft skin there, trying to memorize it. It was as if remembering something from a faded memory.

She had turned out to be a beautiful women when she was clean of the dirt and her own blood. He had been right. She had Mediterranean skin, an off olive colour and long chestnut brown hair falling in gentle waves to her shoulders, contrasting the violence in her tormented eyes. He hadn't been able to tare his gaze from her. Her silent full lips drew him in, waiting with daily anticipation for her to speak to him….to anyone.

"Come with me." His firm voice murmured as to not draw the attention of the others as they went about the morning tasks. He led her out of the camp and into the woods. She followed with easy steps, not showing that she was in pain anymore. She never showed pain, he noticed. She had endured enough of it to know how to tolerate it by now.

"Been lookin fer the guys that did this ta ya." He told her as they moved deeper into the woods. She looked over at him, still silent as she stopped. He turned to her. "It's okay girl." He assured her. "Come on."

He continued to lead her farther and farther into the still dim woods. He had told the others that he had been out hunting, and he had, but it hadn't been for game. They were getting far out by now, far enough away so that the other survivors couldn't hear anything. Just the way it needed to be.

He led her down a small crevasse in the earth, Daryl going down first to lead the way. He reached out a calloused hand to her to help her but she just looked at it cautiously. He sighed and let her crawl down the roots and branches nimbly and on her own.

"We're almost there." He told her, continuing to walk with her following him. He could see it in her face. She was cautious but curious. She was an open book of emotion even without speaking. Silence was a testimony that for her none of this was over.

Finally they reached his destination and she halted, stopping dead and suddenly. He had a large man tied to a large thick tree branch, suspended in the air, his feet barely touching the ground. He'd been beaten, head lulling down but looking up sharply when he saw them.

His eye was swollen and there were contusions on him in the same places where some of her worst wounds had been. Daryl had been taking out his anger on this scum bag he had found rapping the body of a girl in the woods. He'd tried to save that girl too but she had already been gone.

He had wanted to kill him then. He'd been so driven to…it was what he was made for, programmed for. Every inch of him ached to take out his anger and vengeance for the little girl that only let him touch her. He had needed to think hard about her face to stop himself; her bright eyes, so full but unable to move on, her body language when any of the other men in camp came near her. She didn't shrink away like he had thought she would. Instead she went into defense mode, ready to lash out like a snake. She was drowning in the pain that she had experienced, bottling it up. She needed to move on and he knew just how to help her.

The man screamed into the rag that Daryl had shoved forcefully in his mouth when he saw the hunter and the girl. Daryl put his cross bow to the ground and looked at the girl he had been able to save. She was ridged as she looked at the man, now so helpless.

"This one of the animals that did that ta ya?"

Her lips parted as she looked at him, hatred mixed with fear clear in her eyes. He was proud though; there was so much more anger there than fear. No sound came from her parted lips, not a scream, not a sigh, not a word.

His hand drifted down to his belt and pulled out his hunting knife, gripping the cold handle overhand and holding it out to her. He blocked the sound of the man screaming into the rag out. He looked at her seriously, his focus on her intense. "Don't know who ya are…but it's time fer ya ta come back." He murmured.

She looked at him closely, before she took the knife from him with her slender little hand. It looked so huge when she held it, so threatening. He watched in awe as she studied it, keeping his face hard. She looked up at him with those big green doe eyes before turning and walking up to the man.

She looked at her attacker and rapist closely before reaching out and ripping open his shirt. The dirty worn fabric tore with a chilling sound in the silent woods. The man screamed again in anticipation of pain and struggled, but Daryl had tied him up tight; rigged him up like a deer for gutting. There was no way this monster was ever going to hurt her again.

She looked at the man's fat chest before turning her head slowly to look over her shoulder at Daryl. He gave her a curt nod of his approval. She looked back at the captive and slowly licked her bottom lip.

Daryl watched as she took a deep breath and raised the knife, driving it home with more force than necessary. The man screamed and gurgled but she dragged the blade down with both hands, gutting him open just like the animal Daryl and she both knew that he was. Steam from the warmth of his insides formed when it hit the cool morning air. The metallic smell of blood and bowels voiding stung the clearing.

Daryl leaned against a tree as he watched, rubbing his bottom lip with his thumb as she stabbed over and over again, ripping away flesh, spraying sticky, crimson blood everywhere. It was all over her again, covering her face and arms like a fucked up modern arts painting. Tears welled in her eyes as she repeatedly stabbed. But they weren't for this man. These were all for her. The sounds of pain and screams from the man had ended a while ago but she seemed unable to stop. It lasted forever, her butchering unpracticed and unknown.

Finally she ended her assault, falling to the blood and gut soaked ground. She dropped the knife beside her, her wrist trembling from the force that she had used.

Daryl walked slowly over to her and lifted her from the ground under the arm. He led the girl over to cleaner ground and sat down with her in front of him. Her hands were braced on the forest floor with him kneeling in front of her. He took out an old rag and whipped some of the blood from her cheeks and her bottom lip. She wasn't crying, she was barely trembling anymore.

She looked up into his face as he cleaned her up, their eyes locked again in a silent understand that what they had done wasn't wrong but they couldn't tell anyone else. They were still huge but no longer haunted.

The girl studied him for a moment before her pink and red coated lips opened again. "Piper." She breathed softly. Daryl started at the sound, not expecting it. He had been wanting to know what her voice sounded like for weeks now. He wasn't disappointed but he was shocked at the little light sound of it. He starred at her questioningly. "My name is Piper."