Keep Walking

A Word: I don't know. Got a need to write AU about these characters after reading a bunch of fic and watching the new episodes. Not sure where this is headed quite yet though. Please bear with me.

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Sophia crawls out of the backyard through a hole left by a fence post that's crooked on its nail. The aged wood falls back into place when she wriggles past it, and she has to really suck her gut in to make it through. The splintered edges dig into her and threaten to rip her shirt up. She's going to have to sneak the hammer out of the garage again and try to get the second slat rigged up the same way soon if she wants to keep using her escape route.

Guilt dogs her feet as she walks down the alley to the street that can't be seen from any window in her home. Her escape route is small and meant just for her. There's no way Mom could ever follow her through it. It doesn't help that Sophia knows Mom saw her go out the hole more than once before, and always tells her what a smart girl she is when she comes home afterwards. Not when her lip is split open again or a new set of bruises peppers her skin. Some knew hurt to hide under layers of clothing and a sad smile that get's more and more faded.

She drags her feet through the rocks and dirt as she walks to the empty street and looks around. Wondering what she's going to do until it gets dark enough for it to be safe to go home. It's poker night and he'll be gone once the sun starts to sink. Not coming home until late tomorrow. The longest time they can expect to be safe from him anymore since he lost his job.

The garage down the street is open and Sophia can make out Dale's form walking around in it. He's probably working on something with his old camper. The old man is always telling stories about getting it fixed up so he can travel like he used to when his wife was alive, and he's always happy to let Sophia hold onto things while he tells those stories. He'll pull out a juice box for her and sneak out a bag of hard candies from under the watchful eyes of his nieces, Andrea and Amy, to share with her. If it gets late enough he'll even insist she stay for dinner.

Sophia scowls and deliberately turns away from Dale's home.

She'd made a mistake. She'd gone to Dale too much, said a few too many things, and now Mom is paying for it. Dale's nice, but he doesn't know anything for all that he likes to say he does. He'd gone to Mom when Sophia was out playing with Carl and Duane, and then he'd done something really stupid.

He'd waited around for her dad to come home from work and confront him.

Sophia doesn't know what they said. All she knows is that when she came home there were cop cars there and Carl's dad was trying to make Mom sign some papers. Her lips had bled as she smiled and gently refused. Not stopping to cry or shake until they were all gone and Dale had given up trying to get either of them to answer the door again.

It'd taken three days for him to get out of jail, and Sophia still isn't sure what was worse. The wait as they both knew what was going to happen, or the actual night her dad had come home with an awful smile and a clenched fist.

He lost his job after that and Sophia knows it wasn't the stupid reason he'd told them about when he came home from it. She knows because Andrea had been hanging around, and Sophia had heard just enough to figure things out herself before Mom closed the door on the woman's face.

So, no, Sophia can't go to Dale anymore. Him and Andrea have made things so much worse and Sophia won't add onto it anymore.

She can't go to her friend's homes either. Duane's gone for a week with his family, out seeing his grandparents. She can't go to Carl's either. She's spent too much time there lately and Lori's starting to give her the same kind of looks that Dale and Andrea did towards the end. Sophia won't make this worse on her Mom, she won't, so she passes the street that'll take her to Carl's.

The vet place is dark when she passes it so she can't stop in to see how any of the Greene's are doing, and she doesn't see Glenn when she peers into the busy pizza place next to it. The church on the corner is quiet too because the church group is doing some kind of summer camp thing that Sophia hadn't asked to go on no matter how often T-Dog had pressed her to ask her parents.

She never would've been allowed to go so she'd always thrown out the fliers before going home.

Sophia keeps walking and cuts through a couple of alleys before walking across a long pad of concrete that used to be something. She doesn't know what it used to be but it's been left alone so long that grass and weeds have nearly reclaimed the concrete. She picks a bunch of purple clover flowers and a few delicate yellow buttercups before she climbs over an old wooden fence and walks into the trailer park she's always been told to stay away from.

She stops by Eliza's home first but the lights are out and, when she gets on her knees to look, her doll has been carefully placed under the stairs. Out of the way of any rain but close enough she can pick it up. Sophia leaves the buttercups behind when she crawls back out from the stairs.

The rip in the arm has been expertly patched and the dress is new. There's hardly any trace of blood at all on the fabric of the doll and Sophia smiles. She wonders what Eliza had to tell her mom so the woman wouldn't ask any questions.

Sophia keeps walking. The neighborhood is larger than hers because the trailers are smaller, but it still takes her very little time to reach the last person she can go to. She looks at the motorcycle parked in front of the trailer but its not the one that means she should steer clear, and she walks right up to the front door to knock.

Daryl looks irritated when he opens the door, but he always looks that way. She knows he doesn't mean anything by it when he lets her in without a word. She smells the pizza before the door shuts and wonders if she just missed Glenn. He tells her there's other delivery people but so far Sophia hasn't seen anyone else out doing it.

"Sit," Daryl says as he pulls out a stack of paper plates that she's pretty sure he only keeps for her.

The couch in front of Daryl's table is clear but Sophia sits on the floor anyway. It's too far to reach the table from the couch for her and she likes to face Daryl when they eat. It's not really a table though. Just a long board on some cinder blocks, but Sophia likes it that way. It's not bright and shiny like the table at home. The one her dad is so proud of that he makes Mom clean for an hour every day. Making sure she gets every speck of dust off of it and that not even a scratch appears on it.

Sophia holds her breath when she has to walk past it, and she knows it worries Lori when she does the same at Carl's house but she can't help it. She just remembers her Mom's face the one time she'd accidentally scratched one of the legs on that table. The way she'd gone deathly pale and had to hold herself up on the wall. How they'd broken the rules and left the house that day. Walking on foot to every store they could reach before the work day was done. Buying up every brown marker they could find and bringing them home until they found one that made the scratch disappear. The tears they'd both cried late that night when he didn't notice a single thing.

A plate of greasy peperoni pizza and a can of grape soda gets banged on the scratched up table before Daryl drops his overloaded plate and beer can across from her. Daryl's table is nothing like the one at home and Sophia doesn't feel any panic at all when she accidentally gets a drop of soda on it as they eat. Daryl doesn't care. Doesn't even seem to notice as he eats four slices in the time it takes Sophia to take her first slice apart.

"What're them for?" Daryl eventually asks as he's chewing on the crust that Sophia picks off from her pizza and sets aside. His eyes are fixed warily on the bunch of purple flowers she dropped next to her plate.

"The ends taste like honey," Sophia says and picks up the stack of peperoni she pulled off to put on Daryl's plate. He doesn't give her a sharp look for the waste or try to gently convince her to eat the things she doesn't like. Simply plucks it up and eats it himself.

"Yeah," Daryl says unsurprised like Duane and Carl had been when she'd proved that to them, because he already knows. Daryl knows a lot of things. "'s not enough for even a mouthful though."

Sophia shrugs and keeps picking her pizza apart. The cheese comes off in patches and she piles it to the left as she tears the thinner bread up into small pieces to the right. She eats the sauce covered bread first before going for the stringy cheese she set aside for last. She likes it better this way even though she's been told it's weird, and Daryl's the only one who'll let her eat it that way. She doesn't dare try at home, Andrea had always scolded her a bit for it, and Duane and Carl's parents would pull out forks before letting her try it at their homes.

"Be better off gettin' those packets a honey," Daryl continues. His accent drawled and loose in the way that her dad hates. The way that he's threatened to beat out of Mom and her the few times they said things in a way he didn't like. "Less work too."

"I don't like how it tastes," Sophia disagrees without fear because Daryl gets pissed if he thinks she's lying or hiding to make him happy. "These taste better."

"Just haven't tried the right kind," Daryl says with a grunt as he gets up and goes back to the kitchen for more pizza. Sophia hears a cupboard slamming and when he comes back he's got a bottle in hand.

It's honey, darker than what she's used to seeing and the peeling label has a picture of the purple flowers on it. Daryl nudges it closer to her but he's not looking at her when she looks up.

"They get it from bees that feed on clover. Makes the honey taste different," Daryl says and then glances over at her when he folds a slice of pizza in half to eat it. "Go on."

Daryl didn't bring any spoons so Sophia just squirts a puddle onto her plate. Keeping it far from the messy spots where the bread and cheese used to be. It flows out slow like syrup and even smells darker to her. Sophia studies it closely for a bit in doubt before dragging a finger through the puddle.

It shouldn't surprise her but Daryl's right. This honey is different from the golden kind Mom keeps in the kitchen for her dad. The kind that tastes like the cheap kind of rock candy some of the old women like to pass out at Halloween. This isn't as sweet and it tastes a lot like the ends of the flowers do.

"Told ya," Daryl says with a smug grin even though Sophia hasn't said anything. Sophia sticks her tongue out at him before ducking her head down to lick the honey up. It's thick and sticky just like syrup and she can already feel it drying uncomfortably on her finger even after sticking it in her mouth.

"You want more, kid?" Daryl eventually asks and he's not asking about any one thing in particular. He means all of it when he asks, and Sophia's hungry enough for more pizza but she shakes her head.

She doesn't come see Daryl too much because he starts getting cranky when she does, and she doesn't want to make herself too much of an annoyance. He might not let her in if she does that, and out of all the people Sophia can go to when she escapes Daryl is the one who understands best. The one she's never had to talk to or lie to. The one who understands in a way that the others haven't and never will.

There's no more pizza anyway, she sees that when he throws the paper plates into the box and folds the whole thing in half like it's something that's easy. Sophia watches as he bends down to look out one of the windows. Eyes squinting like they do when he's thinking about something. The light coming through them isn't as bright as it was before and she knows that means the sun's going down. By the time she gets back home it'll be all the way down. It's time for her to leave.

"Poker night, right?" Daryl asks when she stands up, and doesn't even wait for her to nod before he goes to the front door. He picks up a box and jerks his head for her to follow him out. "I'll drop you off then. No reason to be walkin' around alone now."

"Where's your truck?" Sophia asks as he locks up behind her. It's not there and it was kind of stupid of her to go knocking before seeing it there.

"Broke," Daryl says when he turns around one hand in the box. He comes out with a jean jacket that he drops right on her head.

Sophia growls as she bats the heavy thing off her head. It's a little ragged on the edges but small enough to fit her, and when she looks up Daryl's holding something else small enough to fit her. A motorcycle helmet.

"Really?" Sophia asks as she looks at it, and when she looks up at Daryl he looks embarrassed. Embarrassed even as his lips twitch up into that weird looking smile he does when he thinks no one else is looking.

"Just shut up and put it on."

The jacket is bigger than she is and he probably got it at a garage sale or something, but the helmet is brand new when she pulls it on. She can feel that and smell it when reaches down to adjust the chin strap for her. He knocks the visor down and gives her his more normal smirk before picking her up and swinging her over the motorcycle.

"Hold on to my belt," he instructs as he swings on in front of her. He waits until she gets both hands around the thick leather to start the motorcycle and Sophia giggles helplessly as it roars to life loud enough that his neighbors have to hate him.

They won't say anything to him though. Daryl's got a mean face that makes people want to run, and that's only funny because Sophia knows Daryl. She knows that he a lot like the old mutt that wanders around in Duane's neighborhood. Rough and growly to keep the mean kids from picking on it, but nice to those who sneak scraps out to feed it. He won't let anyone put a collar on him, but if you treat him nice enough he'll sit right next to them and tolerate a little petting.

Daryl's mean like that, and it's a meaness she understands. Not like her dad's meaness.

The motorcycle rumbles under her as Daryl drives slowly through the winding street. He guns it a little when they're out of the trailer park and Sophia holds on tighter with a gasp as she feels the wind snatch at her. She can feel a little shaking from Daryl, but the motorcycle and the wind are too loud for her to be sure he is laughing at her.

It doesn't matter anyway. Sophia's amazed as Daryl turns right instead of left. Taking the roundabout route to her home. It's not like riding in a car at all. There's no windows and metal cutting her off from the world as Daryl starts picking up speed. Even the bumps and holes in the road are a little different and she laughs when Daryl veers a few times -totally on purpose- to hit a few of the larger bumps that make the bike go airborn for a bit.

It doesn't seem like any time's passed at all before Daryl turns into the familiar alley and coasts up to her fence. He stops right by the spot she uses to escape without having to ask.

Sophia wants to drive around town a couple of times but she knows that won't happen. Even if it weren't too late she wouldn't be able to ask. People would notice and people would talk and then Mom would really be in for it for letting her get away like she has been. She slides off the bike and takes the helmet and jacket off without prompting. She can't keep them or they'll be found. "Thank you."

Daryl takes them and snorts. He looks irritated again as he looks away from her. "Ain't doing shit kid. Go on and find your mama now."

He wants to leave, every line of his body leans away from her and he won't look at her again. Daryl waits for her to shove her way in through the fence to take off though. The bike roars as it speeds off and Sophia feels the guilt come back as she trudges up to the house.

There's a light on in the kitchen and when she walks in Mom is at the sink doing dishes. There's a plate on the table but no food out just yet.

"Was that Daryl?" She asks, her voice quiet as she rinses off a glass. She doesn't turn around and Sophia feels the guilt grow because she knows why Mom won't turn around.

"Yes, he didn't want me walking in the dark," Sophia says and her hands clench on nothing as she realizes she left her doll back in his trailer. Sitting up on his table next to the flowers she didn't eat after all.

"He's a good man," Mom says and there's a faint shake in her voice. One that Sophia knows too well. "Did he feed you enough? I can grill you a cheese sandwich and maybe some tomato-"

Sophia swallows hard and crosses the kitchen to pull at the long end of the sweater Mom's wearing. She's not hungry anymore and she might not be hungry in the morning when she sees Mom's face.

The left side is angry and puffed up with a few hints of shadow where she hasn't been able to wash away the blood just yet. The skin around her eye is the worst. It's swollen so much that Sophia can only see the barest hint of glimmer from the eye under it all. It's going to be hideous in the morning, and will take weeks to go away.

"Mom?" Sophia's afraid. As afraid as she had been the day she scratched the table and it shows.

"Oh honey," Mom drops to the ground and pulls her into a tight hug. The water on her hands soaks into Sophia's shirt but she doesn't care as she closes her eyes hard on the tears that are coming. They burn as they squeeze out anyway, but not as much as the break in Mom's voice as she begins to whisper. "It's ok. It's all going to be alright."

It's a lie and they both know it. He's never hit Mom on the face before. Never done anything that would show like this, because then people'd ask questions and he didn't want that. It's an unspoken rule of sorts and it scares Sophia so bad that he's breaking it now. If he's breaking that rule then that means he's going to be breaking a lot of other rules, and Sophia isn't so sure anymore that things will ever get better.

No, she knows they're going to get a lot worse now, and no one is going to be able to stop it.

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