Author's Note: I seriously am the most unpunctual person on the planet. I promised this little one shot to Night-Weaver369 like a month ago, and am just now getting it out. You poor dear.

But yes! She wanted a fic that showed Cali and Daryl in a bit of a more controlled situation, where they could talk. Actually talk. About everything.

And it totally worked for me, because in the last few episodes this season, TWD seemed to be promising me a storm, and great beautiful thunderstorm, but it never came. I found that completely unfair, and totally sucky, so this way, I got my thunderstorm! :D

So, thanks of Night-Weaver369 for the idea, and for talking me through most of it! I hope you like it, and I do hope it was worth the wait!

This is set before the second season finale, just FYI :)

The plot line is sort of based off the Mumford and Sons song with the same title, there are really only two songs I've found that fit Cali and Daryl to a tee. The first is Chasing Cars by Snow Patrol, and the second is After The Storm by Mumford and Sons. Do you guys have a song for Cali and Daryl? If you do, you should tell me, because I love finding songs that have a deeper meaning in them!

Disclaimer: I don't own TWD, and in this one shot, there is swearing, and darker themes, but I hope you enjoy!

After The Storm

Cali had the top half of her body in the closet in the RV, looking desperately for what she knew was there. They weren't wasteful in Camp Clueless, and Amy's bag was sure to be at the bottom of a rapidly growing graveyard of possessions that belonged to those who had fallen since the summer had begun. Finally, she found Amy's bag, buried under the memories of countless others, and she unzipped it, looking for the nail polish she knew was at the bottom of the bag. Amy had told her about it once, it was brown, but if you caught it in the sun, red would shine, and it looked amazing. Cali had figured Amy wouldn't mind her using her little chunk of the old world to help her new, small blonde friend come back from the edge of her suicide, and realize there was still beauty in the world, no matter how small. With a smile, Cali pulled out her prize shook the bottle. There was plenty left. "Score one for normal!"

"Ya talk to yerself way too much." Daryl's voiced told her, and Cali nearly jumped out of her skin. Over the humid wind that practically blew the summer heat away right in front of the survivor's eyes, she hadn't even heard the hunter enter the RV, much less get behind her. She rolled her eyes, and tried to calm her heartbeat.

"Will you please stop doing that?"

"Will ya please start bein' aware of yer surroundin's?" Daryl retaliated, leaning against the small sink. Cali only waved him off and started putting the other bags back.

"What are you doing in here?"

"Still tryin'a find my gun." Daryl growled. "Th' fuckin' thing just seems tuh have disappeared."

"Maybe somebody stole it."

"Ain't nobody dumb enough tuh steal from me." Daryl answered, nasty little smirk on his face. Cali rolled her eyes again, but a grin followed too.

"You are kind of scary."

"Have my moments."

"Every moment."

Daryl opened his mouth to answer, but was interrupted by a flash that illumined the inside of the RV, that was quickly followed by a roar of thunder that seemed to shake the ground, and caused bones under the skin to vibrate where they stood. Daryl jumped slightly, but Cali only grinned. Thunderstorms in Wyoming were always a show, and most of her favorite memories involved her, and either her cousin or Wade, sitting on her concrete porch and just watching the lightning paint across the sky, counting the miles away the act of God was until the thunder shook their very world and the show would repeat again.

She loved this, and the fact that it was happening now, so far from home, in a world where her home was gone. She hated Georgia, but not because it was overrun with Walkers, and the heat was constantly trying to kill her. She hated it, because she was going to die here, not on the soil that she deserved to die on, the soil where her family had breathed their last. So she hated it here, even if it was now home. But at least it gave her this, a storm.

Only seconds later, the rain attacked, pounding against the metal skeleton of the RV. It was pouring, sheets of rain danced across the dried ground of the farm. Cali got up from the ground and crawled over to the window, to watch the lightning and the rain, and she felt at home. For the first time in a long time, she felt like she was at home. She knelt down at the table in the RV, and closed her eyes, enjoying the sound of rain and thunder.

Across from her, Daryl sat down. His body wasn't facing the storms though; he sat his back against it and closed his eyes. Hands clenched together as he rested his head on them. Cali glanced away from the window and stared at him, and the way his entire body seemed tense under his skin. Lighting flashed across the sky again, and Daryl flinched, ever so slightly. The thunder that followed smashed against the sky, and Daryl jumped again. Cali frowned. There was something wrong there, because, if she didn't know better, and she did, Daryl looked almost…scared.

He's human too dumbshit. Her mind reminded her before she mentally smacked herself. Of course, some people were just scared of thunderstorms. "Hey." Her voice was soft as she spoke, and he glanced over at her. "You okay?"

"Fine."

"You sure?"

"Why th' fuck wouldn't I be?" He snarled, and Cali raised her eyebrows. Christ that was vicious.

"You know, being scared of thunder really isn't that big a deal." Cali told him, shrugging. Daryl scoffed at her, but gave no other indication that he wanted to talk about anything though. He just went back to his white knuckled fists and exhaled. Cali pursed her lips. "If it's not the thunder, than what are you scared of?"

"Ain't scared of shit."

"That's bullshit. Everyone is scared of something; you can't even tell me you're not afraid of anything."

"I ain't."

"Everyone is."

"Do I look like som' fuckin' pussy? I ain't scared of shit."

"Being scared of something doesn't make you a pussy." Cali argued, and glanced out the window. "It makes you normal."

Daryl huffed out a laugh. "Bitch, I ain't fuckin' normal."

"It's normal to be scared of thunderstorms."

"I ain't scared of it."

"Okay, so why don't you like them?" She asked, leaning forward on her elbows. Daryl shrugged.

"Jus' don't."

"You have to have a reason, I mean, come one. They're fucking beautiful, so there has to be a reason."

"There ain't."

"Yes there is."

"No there ain't!"

"There has to be!"

"God, there's no fuckin' reason!"

"There is always a reason!" Cali argued, voice getting more heated as she got more into this. Jesus, getting Daryl to talk was always a little like pulling teeth, but after a while he'd relent. Which is why she couldn't figure out what was so different about this time, why he wouldn't open up and talk to her about a simple thunderstorm. "So why won't you tell me?"

"Ain't nothin' to tell!" He argued, spitting the words through his clenched teeth. Cali scoffed.

"Yeah right! You look like someone pulled out all of your teeth, and then kicked your puppy! That response doesn't come from just nothing."

"I jus' don't fuckin' like them!" He growled. "They're fuckin' noisy, disorientin', they ruin trails, an' they trap ya inside. Then everyone gets fuckin' stir crazy."

There hadn't been a thunderstorm that summer, except for that one that couldn't have been more than twenty minutes earlier in the summer, when Glenn had been in Atlanta, and Daryl had been out hunting. So, Cali could deduce that he wasn't talking about that storm, or this storm, because he wasn't stuck inside with everyone, he was stuck inside the RV with Cali. And she wasn't stir crazy in the slightest. "You talking about your family?"

She got half a shrug in response.

"Like Merle?"

There was a dark grin now. "Merle wasn't ever there. Always off somewhere else."

"So, who was there?"

"Ol' Man. And Maw. Usually, unless she was gone too."

"What do you mean by stir crazy?" Cali asked, and Daryl shook his head.

"Ya a fuckin' head doctor now Nia?"

"I'm just asking questions."

"Yeah, well don't."

"Why won't you fuckin' talk to me? Or anybody?" Cali was incredulous. "We're all in the same boat now you know, and the least you could do is get to know who you're stuck with. You'd be surprised at how much easier it is that way."

"Wh' th' fuck should I care."

"Because all of us care." She answered, very matter of fact. "All of us do, and we like you, okay? We want you to be here, with us, and not just for survival advice. We actually care about you."

Daryl was quiet then, as he processed that. Cali watched, as he slipped the edge of this thumb in his mouth, and bit down on the edge. One of two tells Daryl possessed. He didn't like the conversation, he was slightly nervous about it. "Why?"

"Because, you're a good person. And a great guy, and you've gone fucking above the call of duty for us, even after everything we did to you."

"Ain't nothing."

"It's everything." She answered. "But for the love of God, you need to talk to us, quit trying to keep us out. We could help you, you know? Or the least we could do is try. But you gotta let us, okay? You have to let me. So please, just talk to me." Cali reached over towards him, and took on of her fists in her hands, and gently untangled the stiff fingers. "Why are you so worked up over a storm?"

Daryl glanced outside, and shook his head. Then he looked down at the tan hands encircling his, and sighed. "They're too loud. Can't hear nothin' over the thunder." He explained. "Meant th' neighbors couldn't hear anything. It was always so much fuckin' worse durin' a storm. All he did was drink, and I couldn' fuckin' run."

Cali swallowed, and thought about his chest. The scars that looked too clean to be accidental, but too hurried to be surgical, the way he usually kept his head down, the reason he'd been hell bent on bringing Sophia back, it was all summed up in that one sentence. There was nothing she could say that would be able to fix the years of pain, and hurt, and abuse suffered at the hands of someone he was supposed to trust. Absolutely nothing would make up for it.

So she didn't say anything, didn't try to offer up some excuse for what happened. Instead, she just held onto his hand tighter, and gave him a smile. The best one she could come up with. "So that's why then?"

"Yup." He sighed. "Jus' reflex now, I guess. Jus' fuckin' hate these things."

"I don't fucking blame you." She answered, looking back out at the sky. "Fear is a bitch."

"I tol' ya- I ain't fuckin'-"

"Oh save it. Who isn't scared now?" Cali asked, eyes rolled with her words. "Everyone's scared. All the time."

"Whu're ya scared of then?" Daryl asked. There wasn't any mocking in his voice, it was just a question. Cali thought about it for a second, and shrugged.

"I really don't like spiders. Still. Those fucking things are just disgusting." She shuddered. "I'm scared of heights, and I'm scared of being left somewhere." Her eyes dropped. "I'm terrified of becoming a Walker. So, so scared of becoming a Walker. But, I'm even more scared of watching us die off. One by one." Cali swallowed again. "I'm scared of you dying, and I'm even more scared of having to watch it." Daryl's gaze stayed on her long after she was comfortable with it, and she had to pull hers away.

"How long tha' been a problem?"

"It's not a problem. It's a fear." She shrugged. "And I dunno, it was always kind of there, I guess. But it was easier to ignore when we weren't in a rela-before we were toge-…" Cali paused and tried her damnedest to put what she was trying to say into words. "Okay, before we were a-" She gestured between them. "But after we got closer, it got more pressing, I guess…and after that whole thing with Andrea and the gun-" Cali swallowed once more, throat getting tighter as emotion swelled. "I just realized how much I like having you around, you surly fucker. And I don't want to have to watch you die-"

"Stop."

"What?"

"Look, I ain' goin' nowhere. Alrigh'? So ya don' gotta worry about it."

"Easy for you to say."

"Th' fuck does that mean?" Daryl asked, and Cali frowned, and looked down at the table.

"You weren't one the side who had to watch. You didn't feel that sickening fear when someone yelled that someone had been shot and you were the only face missing around camp. You didn't see Rick and Shane drag your fucking lifeless, bloody body back to camp! You didn't have to sit outside some room, and just fucking wait!" Cali's anger rose with every sentence, and her vision blurred, but it wasn't until a tear dripped off her face and landed on her hand that she realized she was crying. "And you didn't have to look down at the only person in camp revered in a God like fashion, and seem him broken and bruised, and fucking scared." She spat at him. "So until you do, and until you have felt what I have, and seen what I have, you don't get to fucking tell me not to be afraid of that."

"Ya don't gotta be scared of tha'."

"You don't understand! You didn't live it!"

Daryl's eyes narrowed, and he grabbed Cali's hand, much harder than needed. "An' I ain't ever fuckin' gonna either."

"You think so?" She asked, mouth pressed into a thin line.

"Done a fuckin' good job so far." He retaliated, smirk on his face. He flipped one of her hands palm up, and ran a finger across the new skin that had grown over the wounds from where the rope and fight had ripped her up. "I ain' gonn' fuckin' worry about tha' 'Fear' of yers, cuz it's never gonna be a problem."

"You can't know that."

"Nia, everytime ya got hurt, ya noticed I wasn't around fer it?" He asked, eyebrow raised. Cali blinked, and thought back. Every injury she'd received, anything bad that had ever happened to her, Daryl hadn't been around. Cali shook her head, and looked up at him in shock. He barked out a laugh. "Told ya girl, ya need to be more observant."

"How-"

"I've lost my brother, an' I lost tha' little girl." He explained, looking down again. "An' after tha', I dunno, I just decided I wasn' gonn' lose you too. I ain't watchin' ya die Nia. I just ain't."

Cali stared at him in shock, and she clenched her teeth to prevent her jaw from falling. "And you really think you can stop it."

"Yup." He answered simply. "Actually, th' only problem I've really had is gettin' ya to stop bein' so damn accident prone, but hey, ya can't make it fuckin' easy can ya?"

Cali smirked. "Where's the fun in that?" Her tone was playful, but her eyes were sad. "You won't watch me die huh?"

"Refuse to." He answered.

"Want to extend me the same courtesy? " Cali asked, and he frowned.

"Whut?"

"I don't want to watch you die either, you know. And you've made me do it once, and it's always you, damn it. Always you, and it's always Glenn! You're the first one they send out, every time! I mean, why is it always you!"

"I'm th' only one who knows whu' the fuck they're doin'."

"So you're the first one fed to the wolves every time huh?" Cali shook her head. "I hate it, you know. I fucking hate it." She slammed her hands on the table, and jumped to her feet. She had to practically yell over the rain and the thunder. "Everyone else gets to pretend they live in a world where the Walkers don't exist, and we're all just hanging out together like some fucked up summer camp, while you have to go out there and get your day fucking ruined again and again! We get to hold onto some precious sliver of innocence still! Why don't you get to?"

Daryl snorted. "Ain't no innocence left to save."

"That's bullshit. You're telling me you like going out first?"

Daryl shook his head. "Fuck no. 'S pretty much th' worst fuckin' thing in the world. Dunno what path is safe, dunno how many Walkers, dunno how many arrows. 'S a fuckin' nightmare. All the time."

"Then why? Why don't you say no?"

Daryl stood up then, and walked so he stood in front of Cali. "Well, fer starters, th' first time I did say no, tha' dumb bitch went off on her own and crashed a damn car."

"That doesn't count." Cali answered. "Odds are, Lori would have done something stupid no matter what."

"Secondly, I already told ya. 'M a lost fuckin' cause at this point." He shrugged. "Too many scars already. Might as well let th' rest get out unscathed as long as I can."

"We're not getting rapidly scarred here, you know." Cali crossed her arms. Daryl only rolled his eyes, and brought his thumb up to her bottom lip, and traced a small white line that cut through her skin.

"Fight wit' the blonde bitch right?"

"Yeah."

Then he brought his hand down to hers, and flipped them over again. The new pink skin stood out against her tanned, beat up skin, and small white pricks of scar tissue erupted every now and again along her palms. When he flipped her hands back over, her right hand had thin, jagged scars from where she'd cut her hands on Andrea's teeth. "An those 're from th' tree ya got stuck in th' second time, right. An' some teeth?"

"Yeah."

"Plus, black eyes, wrist, back…"

"I get hurt a lot, I understand that." Cali spat out, annoyed. Daryl shook his head.

"Nia, yer missing my point. All this, it's all happened since th' fuckin' start of summer." He explained, and Cali cocked her head, not following. He rolled his eyes again, struggling over the words that seemed to come too easily to every other man in this group. "Yer still a kid girl."

"Will you please quit saying that? I'm really not a kid." Cali spat, and crossed her arms. "I'm not some dumb little bitch who stands around and screams. I'd like a little more credit than that! I'm still alive, you know!"

"Tha' ain't wha' I'm talkin' about." He sighed. "Yer livin' yeah, but yer still alive too. A' least fer now. I kinda wanna keep it tha' way."

"So, you want me to live…and be alive?"

"Finally, if fuckin' clicks." He smirked. "Ya can still laugh Nia, yer one of th' only ones tha' do."

"So, you let me, and the rest of us, sit around on our asses and play cards while you go out into the great unknown and risk your life…daily…so that we stay human?"

"Yup."

"That's bullshit." Cali scoffed, and leaned against the small table, hands behind her as she stuck her feet out. "And you have to know that."

"I'm doin' wha' I think's right." Daryl argued, and Cali shook her head sadly as another clap of thunder interrupted their conversation.

"You can't hold all of this on yourself, you know. It's too much. You carry survival, food, shelter, protection, and management all by yourself." Cali reached up, and grabbed his face, so that he couldn't look down, or look away. "You gotta be willing to share the burden with the rest of us Atlas; we're more than willing to help out. You know that, right?"

"Tryin' to keep you people normal."

"That's just not going to happen." Cali informed him. "You're shooting yourself in the foot here, we're never going to be normal, not again. Even if we live on this farm and pick daisies and dance to 'Puff the Magic Dragon' every day until we die, we are never going to be what we were before. That innocence you're trying to protect died a long time ago."

"Ya think so huh?"

"Death does that. It'll steal innocence." Cali shrugged. "That's not news. It's always happened that way, and it will always happen that way. But it's not the innocence that you have to worry about. It's the substance, you know? The crap left behind. We're all cynical mother fuckers now, but we're still human, and we're still calm, rational…ish…, and we're still willing to save the broken. That's the innocence we have now. Trying to protect us is like trying to stop the rain. You just can't."

Daryl growled, and pulled away from her hand. "Yer readin' too much into it."

"Noooooo," Cali shook her head. "I'm trying to understand what you're giving me here."

"An answer." He shrugged. "Isn' tha' wha' ya wanted?"

"So, you're willing to answer now, huh?"

"No' like I can fuckin' leave." He muttered, and glanced at the storm, which was starting to give a little, just outside the window.

"Alright, so…" Cali forced her mouth to produce the words. "What are…we?"

"Whu'chu mean?"

Damn it. "What are we, you know…" Cali gestured between them, using the sign language she'd created for that very word, both of them unwilling to even think 'relationship' much less say it. "…do you know?"

Daryl ran a hand across his face. "Fuck Nia, ya want an answer?"

"Is there one?"

"I dunno." He muttered.

Cali nodded, and took that in stride. "Am I a cheap fuck?"

"Gawd, no. Nia, come on." He rolled his eyes. "If I was jus' gonn' use ya for sex, I would've gotten laid a lot ealier."

"Point proven." Cali accepted. "So I'm not a cheap fuck…but…I'm not…"

Daryl shook his head, and thought about it for a long time. His thumb travelled up to his mouth, and he bit down hard on the skin around the nail, as Cali stared at the dirt on her shoes. They hadn't done this before, hadn't addressed it, and she wasn't really sure how to do it now.

Before the Walkers, a guy would ask her out, and then she'd just know. It was easier that way…but now…well Cali had fucking gone all over the place. She'd told him she loved him before she'd gotten a title on what they were, and now, she had no idea what she was in.

Finally, the redneck sighed, and looked up at Cali. "I needed to know yer las' name." he answered simply, and Cali guessed that, when it came down to it, that about summed it up. He couldn't say it, and Cali didn't want to. it was too finalized, too neat for them. They held too much chaos between them for a nice little label to sum it all up.

She had wanted an answer, but the one she'd received had been much better than the one she was expecting. She was important to him, and that's all she really needed to know. Cali grinned, and forgot herself, and she reached out and hugged the surly mother fucker, who stood frozen, before he grudgingly wrapped his arms around Cali, rolling his eyes the whole time. "Yer such a fuckin' girl." He sniggered into her hair, and Cali glared at him.

"Oh, kiss my ass Atlas." She muttered, and pulled away from him. "The rain looks a little lighter, we could make a mad dash towards the house."

"Works fer me." He answered, and reached a hand out to fuck up her hair. "An' my name ain't 'Atlas'."

"What? You prefer Best Friend Killer?"

"Ya could call me by my damn fucking name."

"Why? You don't call me by my name."

"Yer such a stupid little bitch."

"Surly mother fucker."

"Chink-fucker."

"Asshole."

"Whore."

So, Night-Weaver369, what'd you think? Did it work for you? :D Let me know! Thanks for reading!