"Fucking pathetic," Daryl mumbles to himself as he sets up his tent far enough away from everyone else that he can still see them, but that's about all the contact he wants. "Shoulda left after they ditched Merle on top of the fucking building."

"That's no way to be, son," Dale said from behind him.

"The hell do you know about it, old man," Daryl asked, whipping around surprised by the sudden voice behind him. Shaking his head, he wondered how the hell he didn't hear the fool come up behind him. Must be stuck in his own head more than he thought. That just wouldn't do.

"I know that you're a valuable member of this group and we're happy to have you. Especially Carol. No one searches for her little girl like you do," Dale continued, cautiously stepping closer.

Daryl grumbled inwardly, still fumbling with his tent poles before getting them snapped into place. "Fuck off, Dale."

Dale just nodded, silently hoping the younger man didn't disappear in the middle of the night. Walking back towards the others, he decided that something needed to be said to Rick about it, just in case. "Hey Rick, can I talk to you for a sec?"

"Sure, Dale. What's on your mind?" Rick straightened up from looking at the maps, planning out their search grid for the following day. Shane straightened up next to him, subconsciously putting his hand on his gun at his side.

"I don't think Daryl is feeling like he's a part of the group anymore. He's put himself away from the main camp," he motioned towards the tent across the field, "and is grumbling about having left after losing Merle."

Rick nodded, looking back down at the map and up at Shane. "I'll talk to him. Make sure he knows how much we appreciate everything he does for us." Shane just rolled his eyes and huffed.

Dale nodded, walking away. His job was done as far as he was concerned. Climbing back up on top of the RV, he sat next to Andrea to take watch.

Shane turned to Rick, hands on his hips. "You really going to go make nice with a Dixon?"

"Yeah, Shane, I am. He's most of the reason why all of us still get at least one meal a day. Don't really see much of a choice there. If he runs off, I can't see any of us providing as much food."

"He's looking for a fucking ghost more than he's hunting for food, Rick. What good is he going to be when he gets himself bit running after a lost cause?"

"Shane…," Rick sighed. They had had this argument numerous times in the past two days and at least three times already that day.

"Forty-eight hours, Rick. That's how long we were trained to search for a live person. You and I both know that you start looking for a body after that. And hell, in this world, I wouldn't even give it 24 hours."

"Dammit, Shane, I know. But if it was Carl I know you'd be singing a different tune. For Carol, we have to keep looking. At least until we have some answers," he said, turning his back on the larger man. "I'm going to go talk to Daryl. See if he'll rejoin the camp at least." Shane watched as Rick walked the distance over the field to the tiny tent. He knew things could go south fairly quickly with the Dixon. He'd seen it plenty of times before Rick found them, but no matter what he told him, Rick would always see the good in other people. Shane scoffed. There was nothing good about the Dixon clan. In a quick decision, he followed his partner halfway, hand still poised on his gun. It may be the apocalypse but Rick was still his partner, dammit, and he would be there if he needed backup.

"Daryl?" Rick called out.

He heard some muttered cursing before a caustic, "The hell you want officer?"

"You don't have to call me officer. I've told you that. But I would like a word with you if you have a minute," he said, stepping in front of the zipped up tent flap.

Daryl zipped open the tent, stepping out to face him. "What? Kinda busy setting up shop if you haven't noticed."

Rick nodded, hands on his hips, looking around at Daryl's few things spread out over the ground, noticing that some of Merle's stuff was still there. "Yeah, I noticed. Was wonderin' why you left the main camp."

Daryl shrugged. "Like it better out here. 'S quieter."

"Well I can certainly understand that, but you know there's safety in numbers and we like you to be a part of our camp."

Daryl scoffed, turning around to pickup his crossbow, he swung the business end of it at Rick. Shane took a few steps closer towards the duo before he realized it wasn't loaded. Rick noticed him out of the corner of his eye and hoped that he stayed away. Daryl and him didn't seem to be too friendly. "You ain't the boss of me, Sheriff," he spat out, the last word sounding like a curse. "You can't keep me under your fucking thumb like you can the rest of those hens."

Rick cautioned a step forward, reaching a hand out. "'S not like that, Daryl. We care about you," he said, still moving forward slightly, hand extended. "We want you to be safe. You have to sleep sometime. We know you about kill yourself looking for Sophia and hunting game for the whole group." Standing a few feet in front of the swaying, hostile man, Rick softened his face, trying to be as nonthreatening as possible. Even though the crossbow wasn't loaded, he knew damn well it would be a handy, heavy weapon. When his fingers finally touched skin, he felt how wound up the younger man was. Gently, he kneaded the shoulder, trying to get him to calm down through his touch. "We appreciate everything you do, Daryl. You've kept us alive and there's no proper way to thank you for that except to help protect you."

Something in those words made Daryl's face twitch as he yanked his shoulder out of Rick's grasp. "Protect me?" he shrieked. "Fuck that. Been protecting myself my whole life. Ain't never needed anyone to protect me before, ain't gonna start now just because the dead's walking."

Rick let his hand drop back down to his side, nodded his understanding. "Okay, but at least join us around the fire and share in what you brought back. It's only right, Daryl. We want you to be with us, as one of us," he said, trying to extend an olive branch in response to whatever had set him off.

Daryl hesitated, glancing over at Shane. Of course he would know he was there. RIck cursed himself mentally for not blocking the other man with his body from his vision. The last thing he needed was for Shane's mere presence to send this man off into a violent tirade, but the response he was given actually surprised him. Daryl nodded once, curtly, before turning his back on him. "Great! We'll see you in a bit then," he answered, his voice soft but hopeful, his hand hesitating slightly over the other's back before just dropping it back down at his side. Rick sighed, turning away from the ramshackle setup and started walking towards Shane. "So what'd he say?"

Rick just shrugged. "Said he doesn't need protecting, but at least he'll be there around the fire tonight."

Shane turned once to look back, catching Daryl staring at them walking away. There was a look on his face that bothered him. He couldn't quite put the words to it, but he would almost say it was like… longing… Shane shook his head. Nah, Dixon's weren't capable of showing tender emotion, especially of that variety.

A few hours later found the small group clustered around a fire, the Greene farmhouse dark in the distance. Daryl had wandered over after mostly all the food was gone, but Carol had kept a small plate for him. He took it, not quite saying 'thank you' but nodding his appreciation none the less. Rick watched him from across the blaze, eating like he hadn't in days when he thought no one was looking. He made a mental note to talk to him about eating more later. Right now, though, he was just thankful the man was around and semi-socializing with them.

A bustle of noise caused Rick to jump out of his stupor in staring across the flames. Shane had appeared next to him, propping himself up on a log. "It's a damn shame. You see the way that boy eats? Like he ain't civilized."

"He's starving, Shane. We all are," he answered quietly.

"Yeah, but we don't eat like we ain't got manners. Look at him over there. I think he's going to eat the damn paper bowl."

Rick adjusted himself on his own log, the conversation making him a little uneasy and almost defensive. "I wouldn't blame him. 'S probably good fiber," he half joked.

"Can't have someone like that around Carl," Shane finished, grabbing a log next to him and adding it to the fire.

For a split second, it looked to Rick like Shane had caught Daryl's face on fire, the flames licking at his tanned, dirty skin, making those crystal blue eyes shine as he caught the other man's gaze. "You really think Carl's table manners are on my list of concerns right now? I'm just happy he has something to eat," he whispered harshly. Before thinking, he stood up, looking down upon Shane for a beat before striding around the fire all sure about himself before sitting down in the dirt next to Daryl. "Never thought I'd be saying this," he started, glancing at the startled look on the other man's face, "but thanks for the squirrel. Made a tasty stew."

Daryl shrugged, but continued to eat, a little more civilized now.

Turning his own blue eyes on the younger man, Rick continued, "No… really," he said, placing a hand on the other man's shoulder again and giving it an affectionate squeeze. "Because of you my wife and son have food in their stomachs tonight."

Daryl sat for a minute, his body tense under the touch of the other man's hand as he stared into the fire, his gaze flicking up to meet Shane's over the tips of the flames. "Wasn't nothing. Ran into a pack of squirrels on my way back from the search. Dumb luck."

Rick squeezed again before letting go. "Well, it was delicious dumb luck. Which you deserve everything that is still in that pot. Don't be shy now."

Carol nodded her agreement. "Daryl, please," she said, as she stood up to get the spoon and dump more stew into his bowl. "This meal is because of you anyways."

Shane watched the spectacle, listening to their quiet words of praise for the redneck. He shook his head. He went through hell and killed a man, not that he'd tell anyone that, to bring back medication for Rick's son and he didn't get this much attention. Despite the dim lighting and the lick of the flames between them, Shane saw the muted smile flash across Daryl's face before it was replaced with the stoic visage he always wore. Shaking his head, he stood up, unable to take this nonsense anymore he headed off for his tent. "Fucking ridiculous," he muttered under his breath.