A/N: This is a sequel to Say When. If you haven't read Say When, you'll probably find yourself to be pretty lost when you start this, so please head on over and read that one first - I promise you won't be disappointed! As with Say When, I own Olive Norton and the aspects of her story. Enjoy!

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The early rays of sunlight creeping over the walls of the prison began stringing through the bars like rays of hope, a light for another glorious day of survival, if 'glorious' was an appropriate word at the time. Unfortunately, it wasn't. However, that isn't to say that little things were not considered glorious, something that Daryl realized every single morning.

A groggy kind of groan sounded in the back of his throat as half-weary eyes pried open to let the brightness of the morning rouse them from their slumber. He had slept well the previous night and as he shifted slightly and a soft coo was heard from his side, he recalled why.

Several months had passed since Andrea's untimely death and he and Olive had grown ever closer until their relationship had been consummated for the first time some weeks ago. He would find himself falling asleep and waking up with his arms around her - on occasion, her arms would be around him, especially if nightmares had him unable to relax.

On this particular morning, on a day that would prove to be most distressing, Olive was beside him. As he had begun to move, she, too, shifted to gain a closer proximity to his body, her naked body flush against his side. Wide blues watched as her slender arm draped itself delicately across his chest and her cheek nuzzled against his pec. A light sigh of contentment escaped between her partially parted lips and Daryl's body shivered. He was happy with her unlike his relationships with just about everyone else in the camp, and certainly on a different level entirely.

He had given his body to hers and she to his and everything seemed sublime. They were not the type of couple to do this every night, but when they could, they did. It was like a comfort to them, their being here together and Olive's body so close to his reminded him of a safe haven, like his own personal anchor in this God-forsaken world.

His eyes tipped down, scanning over her as her leg wandered beneath the sheets until it was hooked around his own. The light brown hair of hers - of which had grown a good three inches - was softly cascaded over his chest like streaks of scars, each a reminder of how much he loved her, of how much he needed her.

Olive's arm shifted once more, moving so that her hand was now in the center of his chest, lightly playing with the hairs there as instinct, not ritual.

Daryl moved in, lightly caressing his lips to the crown of her head. "I love you," he murmured, his voice a deep kind of growl.

Olive stirred, tongue clicking once or twice as she blinked rapidly before lifting her head. Turning, her eyes met his with a kind of sleepy sincerity. "Good morning," she muttered, tones of sleep still coating her voice as she leaned in for a kiss. Her lips against his were moist and wanted and he returned it gladly, moving a hand to weave its digits through her hair, the satin locks comforting his typical morning intensity. "Sleep well?"

"I always sleep well with you here," he admitted with a soft shrug. They shared a smile before meeting one another in the middle for another kiss, this one longer and more purposeful.

"Daryl, Olive - Rick needs you two to - Oh, my God!" a voice sounded from the door. The startled tones belonged to Carol, who quickly averted her eyes from Olive's exposed breasts. Olive pulled the sheet around her chest and sank her face into Daryl's chest to hide the burgeoning blush creeping against the base of her neck.

"What the fuck, Carol?" Daryl snapped, raising an arm in complete confusion. "That's such a creepy thing to do."

"I didn't know you two were - Oh, my God."

"Well, we are. Get outta here! We know what we gotta do today already." With that, the flustered grey-haired woman left. "Dammit, I'm sorry, Olive."

Olive shook her head, lifting her head slightly so that her chin now rested on his chest, fists still balled around the sheets. "I just didn't mean to flash her so early in the morning."

Daryl chuckled, resting his head back on the railing behind him, forearm raised against his forehead. "Shit. I wish she'd stop bein' so goddamn creepy."

"She has a thing for you. Always has."

Daryl frowned, cupping her face and looking into her eyes directly. "Yer the only woman fer me an' ya know it."

Olive nodded, tilting her head to press a peck to his chest. "You helpin' Rick this morning?"

Daryl sat up slowly, swinging his legs over the side of the bed to start dressing himself for the day. "Yeah, I do. We're workin' in the garden fer a bit, and then I've gotta check the traps and we're still on for that raid tonight."

Olive propped herself onto an elbow, watching him and listening to him as he spoke. "I'm still game for coming tonight." The blades of her fingers gently swiped along the abuse raised under and over his skin, a tender kind of affection.

"Olive, I worry 'bout bringin' y'along with us." His voice was laced with genuine concern and Olive's heart sank a bit at the sound of it. "We've been scared 'bout you maybe bein'...well, ya know what I mean."

Olive nodded, brown eyes casting down at her belly. "I told you some of the women in my family are sterile. I think I am, too - I'm hopin', for our sake, that I am." She and Daryl had had a long, stern talk about the possibility of pregnancy between them. They decided that another infant mouth to feed, another cry to silence for fear of endangering others wasn't worth the risks they'd already set forth in their own ultimate survival. "Maggie and Glenn are going through the same thing right now, a scare." When his movements ceased - clearly, he'd not heard about that - Olive shifted closer and grazed her lips against several of the scars on his back.

Daryl's eyes fluttered closed at the darling feeling of her gentle lips caressing his weary, scar-borne flesh. Her kisses tingled to the touch and a light smile curled the corners of his mouth upwards as her mouth's hot breath reverberated against his ear. "I'm greedy aboutcha, ya know." She murmured a chuckle and he continued. "I'm glad I'm the only fella that had ya. Even when the Gov tried to - "

"Daryl, shhh," she said, pressing her lips the side of his neck and wrapping her arms around his form.

" - even he couldn't have ya. I feel so special to call ya mine."

"I am. I'm yours."

He turned his head slightly to give her a soft kiss before standing from the bed to button up his cut-off shirt, sling on his winged vest, and stuff a bandanna into his pocket. "What're you up to this mornin'?"

Olive tossed the sheet aside, standing in her nude figure from the bed and causing a lump to form in Daryl's throat as he watched her. "I'm heading down to the fences to take care of some of the walkers there and then I'll be working on trying to figure out what to do about it."

"The fences?"

She nodded, pulling on her jeans and fastening them before grabbing her bra and slipping her arms into its allotments, hooking it together at the front. "Rick and I noticed yesterday that they're buckling in some spots. I'm going to try and think of a way to prop 'em up, keep 'em standing."

Daryl nodded. "That's my girl." Olive smiled proudly, pulling her t-shirt over her head and proceeding to roll the sleeves. She grabbed her boots and pulled them on over her freshest socks, beginning to lace them. "Hey." Her movements ceased, her undivided attention now directed at him. "More o' this - " A single finger gestured towards the bed. " - later tonight?"

Olive grinned, raking her fingers through her hair to push it all back into a ponytail. "Of course."

Daryl chewed on his bottom lip, nodding as he gave her a wink and departed from the doorway.

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Olive despised the length of the grass in some places as she paced along the pathway between fence-lines, a notebook in hand and a pencil in the other. She'd used a knife to sharpen it, but it worked just fine.

"Whatcha doing?" Carl asked, startling her a bit with how grown-up and deep his voice seemed to sound.

"I'm sketching out some ideas on how to fix the places where the fences are buckling - like right here," she answered, pointing to a particular location just above their heads. "I know what needs to be done, but describing it and drawing it out is a bit more difficult."

Carl glanced over her notes and then looked back at her, a kind of knowing glisten behind his eyes. "I know what you mean. I saw the way a friend of my dad's built protection in the town he was in - had the whole place rigged with booby traps."

Olive's brow rose. "Think you could show me what you mean?" She outstretched her arms to him, handing him the items so that he could give her a visual to better explain how to flesh that out for the rest of the group. Nearby, a small line of walkers pushed in on the fence, gnashing their teeth and wheezing and growling just like usual.

In the main field, Daryl stood from his bent-over position. Having checked the traps and brought back some meat for the group, he was busy helping Rick when he spotted Olive and Carl yonder by the fence-line.

"How're things between you and Olive?" Rick asked point-blank.

His bluntness startled the Dixon as he cleared his throat and got back to his work. "Things are just fine," was his answer.

Rick gave a kind of half-smirk as he worked the shovel. "Carol told me about her scare this morning." He kind of laughed, and Daryl narrowed his eyes some.

"'Tweren't no big deal. She walked in unannounced and got an eyeful is all." At that, he, too, kind of laughed and Rick burst into a hearty kind of chortle. "Sometimes she's so damn creepy."

"Well, I'm glad her, uh, eyeful was Olive and not you or you'd never live it down."

"I don't think I'll live it down either way."

"You two usin' protection?" Daryl nearly stumbled, eyes going wide as he stared in the former leader's direction. Rick stopped shoveling and leaned against it. "Listen, Daryl, I'm not meanin' to pry. I just know that protection's scarce and Maggie and Glenn are already dealin' with the consequences of consummation."

Daryl was uncomfortable with such a tender subject being brought up, but he decided to humor the other and give an honest answer. "She's sterile." Rick's gaze cast over to where he noticed Olive and Carl making their way back to where he and Daryl were.

"I didn't know."

A shrug shook the redneck's shoulders softly as he continued his work. "It's fine. Probably better this way anyhow."

Rick was about to comment about his guilt on the exhuming of the subject, but said nothing as his son and Olive neared.

"Dad," Carl said, "Olive's got some great ideas for the weak spots in the fence."

"I wouldn't have figured it out, Rick, if it weren't for your son," Olive admitted fondly, moving to stand by her man and give him a gentle smile. "You're a bright young man, Carl."

"I gave her some ideas that Morgan had used."

"They're brilliant."

"I'm sure they are," Daryl chimed in, nudging his elbow against his girlfriend's side.

Carl nodded, smiling in Olive's direction before heading over to the pig pen with Rick.

"Such a good kid," Olive commented once Carl had walked away.

Daryl agreed silently. "Seems like he's taken a likin' to ya." She shot him a look and he chuckled a bit. "I'm serious!"

Olive sniggered. "I believe you." She nudged her arm into his side, nodding her head in Rick's direction. "They've spend a lot of time around the pen today."

Daryl sighed, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. She handed him a bottle of water. "Yeah, apparently a pig's gone ill."

Olive's brow furrowed. "Do they know with what yet?"

Daryl shook his head, down a gulp of the icy liquid before continuing. "No. They're workin' on it. That's one less pig we'll have by tomorrow - mark my words."

"Consider 'em marked." He scoffed and she laughed.

"Smart-ass."

"Yes, but I'm your smart-ass."

"Proud of it." He drew her in by her waist, planting a kiss to her temple before ushering her up to the main courtyard. Carol was placing their plates of food for lunch onto the metal bleachers when she caught sight of the couple heading her way. Her eyes went wide and with a swift turn on her heels, away she went.

"Someone's still thinking about this morning," Olive said in reference to Carol's hurried exit. Picking up her plate, she munched down on the bacon, smiling at the warmth and the comforting taste. "Do you think she'll ever bother us in the mornings again?"

Daryl smirked, shaking his head. "I doubt it. Bitch needs to mind her own damn business about shit, especially where you and I are concerned." Olive glanced over at him while he made a bacon sandwich with his bacon slices and the biscuit. He noticed her watching him after a moment and gave a small laugh. "What?"

"You're getting all defensive about me, Dixon."

"Of course I am. You're my girl, remember?"

"I remember." She smiled fondly, chewing and swallowing another bite before sighing contently. "Daryl, you are so - "

"Dirty? Rank? Sweaty?"

"...loved."

Shifting a bit closer, he meant to give her a kiss in spite of her mouth being full of food, but then an approaching intruder messed that up, so he straightened, pulling his body back into the bubble he had possessed before.

"Mr. Dixon?" Patrick, Carl's friend and a young former member of Woodbury, said as he approached the couple.

"Yeah, Patrick?" Daryl asked, his tone a bit more sharp than he had intended. Granted, he had been wrongfully interrupted while trying to give his girlfriend a kiss, but even still, he needed to be patient with some people.

"I just wanted to thank you for hunting for all of us. There are so many people now and it's a big burden. I know it's not an easy job - "

"I have help, ya know," Daryl interrupted, gesturing to Olive as he swallowed another bite.

Patrick nodded. "Even still, we're very grateful for what you've done for us." He outstretched his hand to shake, but Daryl licked his fingers of the food that had accumulated on them and then stuck his own hand out. Patrick withdrew his appendage, a rather disgusted expression on his face as he left the area.

"Seems like he's taken a likin' to ya," Olive said, directly quoting him from earlier. When he looked at her, she made a kissy noise and he shook his head softly.

"Yer lucky I love ya," Daryl cautioned jokingly, giving her hand a soft squeeze. "I'm goin' to grab our gear fer the run."

"Our gear." The repetition of those words made her smile. "I like the sound of that." He gave her a light smile before departing, both of their now-empty plates in his hands. "Such a gentleman."

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The trek to the grocery store for their supply run was interesting to say the least. It was fairly quiet, what with Daryl and Olive sitting in the back of the truck and Zach, Beth's new boyfriend, sitting with them. He had attempted to find something to talk to them about, but couldn't. They didn't know this kid and, frankly, it would be better if he kept quiet anyway - their duty to Beth was to keep this kid safe. If they couldn't, they would both feel as though they had failed.

"Gotta keep quiet once we get inside there," Daryl cautioned as they waited outside the store. Michonne had gone around the back of the building to sneak in and get the front entrance to the store dislodged for easier access. Sasha stood nearby, shooting Olive an apologetic look for letting the teenager tag along with them. "Ya never know if a walker could be around the corner or behind ya or somethin'."

"And make sure to use your knife as much as possible," Olive warned. "Save the ammo in case of an ambush because then it won't matter how much noise you make."

"I'd listen to those two," Sasha said for Zach's benefit, as well as Bob Stookey, another new guy who wanted to come with them. "They're the primary game-hunters for our group. Literal meat-winners."

Zach appeared impressed. "I wanna learn all I can from trips like this," he admitted. "We didn't have much experience with supply runs in Woodbury. We had a Wal-Mart. This kinda shit didn't have any effect on us."

"It ain't shit if ya need it," Daryl corrected, not startled when Michonne rapped her knuckles against the glass just behind him. Zach and Bob jumped half a foot each.

Olive shook her head. "Showtime," she said, shifting her pants a bit when she stood, making sure her Glock was within reach as she and Daryl led the way behind Michonne into the store. Instantly, she and Daryl headed for the family planning section, grabbing what was left of the condoms before heading to the pharmacy to nab some much-needed pharmaceuticals.

"We'll definitely need to grab the vicodin," Daryl whispered to her, watching her back as she took the very large bottle and shoved it into her bag.

"Hey," Bob whispered hoarsely from down the aisle, "what should I grab?"

Olive shot him a look, half dumb-founded that he would even have to ask that. "Start grabbin' shit we need like water, especially the large jugs of it. Grab some foodstuffs with Michonne - she's headed down that way."

"Okay." He left as quickly as he'd showed up and Olive pointed her flashlight in the direction of the shelves once more, shaking her head.

"If he seriously has to ask that kind of a question, what's the point in bringing him along on these raids anymore?"

Daryl shrugged. "I'll talk to Sasha, tell her not to invite 'im anymore." His love turned her head and flashed him a thankful smile as she reached for the last three, large bottles of vitamin C. With the way light wispy waves of her hair had come undone from her ponytail and in the dim light of the store, Daryl's heart sank, a derivitive of his love for her constantly on the lookout. Clearing his throat some, she chuckled and nudged him out of her way, heading towards the main sections to check on everyone else.

Just as they exited the aisle, a loud crash echoed throughout the store. The pair rushed towards the sound, finding that an entire shelf had tipped over. The alcohol shelf had fallen onto Bob, a fact that Daryl discovered when he crouched and peered into the wreckage with his flashlight.

"You alright, man?" he asked of the dark-skinned man who would definitely no longer be invited on raids. "You cut or somethin'?"

"Naw, man," Bob said, gesturing his head towards his legs, both of which seemed to be pinned beneath the shelf, "but my foot is caught."

"Oh," Daryl said, standing and tucking his flashlight beneath his arm, "he's just caught." Olive nodded, snapping towards Zach as a gesture requiring his assistance. "C'mon. Help me up with this."

"Go figure it was over an abundance of wine and beer," Olive said, a kind of snark to her tone as they lifted a wooden shelf and put it back into place. Tyreese made his way over to Bob to try and pull him out.

"I was movin' fast, man," Bob said, trying to laugh it off, though Olive was having none of it. "I went right through the aisle."

Tyreese started to say something and Daryl was about to ask Olive about her inhibitions regarding the newcomer when a portion of the ceiling overlooking the alcohol aisle caved in and a walker was caught in the raftings. His entire abdomen split open and only his intestines left him hanging. Blood and rotting innards dribbled onto the floor and the entire group was left staring up at the inevitable about to ensue.

"Uh, we should really get outta here," Glenn cautioned, his armored suit and weapon aimed and at-the-ready.

"Bob's still stuck - get 'im outta there!" Daryl said, immediately heading back to the shelves. Olive was right beside him, her half-gloved hands still gripping the frames as the pair attempted to lift the heaviness together. Zach, too, added his own strength to the mix. Michonne and Sasha were ready with their own weapons as more walkers found weak spots in the ceiling and came crashing into the store.

Tyreese took off when one group of walkers cut him away from the rest of them. Glenn was pinned to the ground when two walkers attempted to bite through his body armor and failed. Once he was able to shimmy enough to grab his weapon, one was shot clear through the brain and the other was beaten with the butt of the gun.

Daryl and Olive couldn't stick around Bob when walkers were all around, each taking a side to defend the group from them as best as they could. At one point, Daryl moved up a bit onto a stack of beer cases, his crossbow coming in excellent handy while Olive's pitchfork kept those around his feet at bay. Glancing up, Daryl heard the low creak of the crashed helicopter on the roof - soon, the ceiling would collapse and the copter would fall onto all of them.

"Daryl, move!" Olive shouted over the howling noises of the walkers, her hand tugging his pants as she fought her way back to Bob.

"Get Bob!" Zach yelled, lifting the shelf as Daryl and Olive pulled him out from underneath the weight of it. Once he had been freed, they started away when a frightened cry from behind them stopped them short. It was Zach.

Apparently, a walker had been crawling across the floor behind Bob's legs and now had a hold of Zach, chomping into his calf to weaken him. The young man fell to the linoleum, eyes wide and screams of terror bellowing from his lungs.

"Zach!" Glenn screamed, but it was too late. The walker now had a bite of Zach's neck and in a few more agonizing minutes, it would definitely all be over. The helicopter gave one final, consistent groan and everyone took off for the front entrance.

"Everyone, go! Go!" Tyreese shouted and all followed. Daryl was just behind Olive at the rear, each sprinting for the exit as the ceiling finally gave way and silenced the droning seethes of the walkers they'd left behind.

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Daryl cleared his throat from the entrance to Beth's cell once they made it back. Olive was just behind him for a moment before heading up to their cell.

The teenager looked up at the familiar face, noting the empty kind of sadness it possessed. "Is he dead?" she asked bluntly, and Daryl nodded. Getting up from her bed, Beth moved to the dresser area, grabbing a chalk tally she'd been keeping - the tally was labeled "Days without an accident." She subsequently erased it with her arm, her eyes turning back to the older man she admired. "What? Expect me to start bawlin' or somethin'? I don't cry anymore, Daryl. Yeah, he was my boyfriend, but I'm glad just to have known 'im."

Daryl chewed on his lip and nodded softly, startled by the uneasiness he felt from her indifference. Turning around, he headed up to the cell, his legs a bit weary and dragging slightly as they slowed, entering the cell with a determined kind of move.

Olive craned her head to look at him from where she was standing on the other side of the room, removing her boots. "What'd she do when you told her?" she asked softly.

Daryl drew the curtains of their space closed to give each privacy as they changed from their awful attire. "She didn't flinch. No cryin', no blubberin', no screamin' at God."

"God didn't kill that boy today, Daryl." Olive stood, unbuttoning her vest with nimble but shaking hands, digits still stained with fragments of dark walker blood. "That walker going after Bob did."

He nodded, tipping his crossbow to lean against the wall as he removed his leather vest and draped it on the chair in the corner, his hands working on the buttons of his shirt. "I know. Sometimes it's easier to have somethin' or someone to blame, ya know?"

Olive agreed silently, knowing that he'd been blaming something since he'd lost his brother for good. "You've gotta stop taking every death as a personal blow, love," she said, her tones soothing as she crossed the room to him, her fingers replacing his in undoing his shirt. "We lost that boy today. We. Not Daryl."

Daryl studied her as she spoke, a light nod moving his head as his hands moved down to her pants, beginning to unfasten them at the front. "Yeah."

Olive frowned a bit, placing her palms flat against his chest, her eyes tilting up to look at him directly. "Why does Zach's death bother you so?"

He paused, shrugging as she noticed a twinge in his chin. He was clearly struggling to not cry. "I'm just sick o' losin' people."

Olive nodded understandably, her face conveying a sense of empathy. Nimble fingers still shaking slid up to hold the sides of his face and press her forehead to his. "Y'ain't losin' me."

Daryl sighed, his broad, callous palms moving up to grip her wrists lovingly. "I could've today. I coulda lost ya. I can't lose ya, Olive. I need ya too fuckin' much."

"Shhh." She silenced him with her lips against his sweetly, a kind of tender notion. She felt the muscles in his mouth return the sentiment and she pressed a bit closer to him for safety reasons. "I'm not going anywhere. You've got me now, right here."

"I know. I intend on keepin' the word I left ya with this mornin'."

"Daryl, we don't have to - "

"I know we don't have to." He paused, nuzzling his nose against hers as his volume dropped some and his hands slid to her waist, wrapping them completely around her there to draw her into himself. "I want to."