AN: This is in a series of "shorts" that I'm doing for entertainment value as I rewatch some episodes. Some of them are interpretations/rewrites of scenes that are in each episode. Some are scenes that never happened but could have in "imagination land". They aren't meant to be taken seriously and they aren't meant to be mind-blowing fic. They're just for entertainment value and allowing me to stretch my proverbial writing muscles. If you find any enjoyment in them at all, then I'm glad. If you don't, I apologize for wasting your time. They're "shorts" or "drabbles" or whatever you want to call them so I'm not worrying with how long they are. Some will be shorter, some will be longer.

This one is partially from the show and partially of my own creation/embellishment.

I own nothing from the Walking Dead.

I hope that you enjoy! Let me know what you think!

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There were dozens and dozens of abandoned houses spotting the Georgia landscape. There always had been—forgotten relics of the past that were tumbling in on themselves—but now there were even more. The oldest of the abandoned houses turned into temporary homes for vagrants and for any wild animal that happened to wander into them. Now they could easily be home to Walkers that were drawn in, for whatever reason, and simply failed to find their way back out again.

And one of these houses could easily become a temporary home to a scared and tired little girl.

When Daryl came across one of the houses that lie almost directly in the path of where he figured Sophia was likely to be travelling, he approached it and quickly assessed the structure from the outside. It seemed sound enough. It had likely been in use when all this had gone down, even if it had been in need of repair then.

Inside, Daryl found the house free of Walkers. He called Sophia's name and got neither a response from her nor from any of the dead. He went directly to the kitchen. No matter what else would be on Sophia's mind, at this point she had to be starving. She'd probably be at the point of eating anything and everything that she thought she could get in her mouth. If there was anything edible in the house, she'd be ready to consume it.

He didn't have to look long. On top of the trash that was rotting in the trashcan, there was a discarded can that had once—and not too long ago—held sardines. It caught Daryl's attention because the juice inside the can hadn't dried up yet. It hadn't been opened too long ago. If it had, the heat alone would have caused the liquid to evaporate. He poured the liquid out and sniffed the can. It was starting to turn, but it wasn't rancid yet. More than likely it had been there less than twelve hours and certainly less than twenty four.

The pantry door was slightly ajar and Daryl watched it for a moment to see if he could detect any movement there. He had the strange sensation that he was being watched. Maybe it was wishful thinking on his part, but the sensation that crawled up the back of his neck made him feel like someone or something was there. If it were a Walker, or any beast for that matter, it would have rushed him by now out of hunger or fear.

And no Walker or animal could manage opening the can of sardines.

Daryl opened the door quickly, not sure exactly what to expect. He found the space empty and his stomach sunk over his own foolishness of believing that something had been in there and had been watching him. It only rose a little, again, when he noticed that someone had made a pallet in the bottom of the cupboard.

Nobody was in there now, but somebody had been there—someone small and short. Someone afraid to sleep in the open areas of the house. Someone that, maybe, had learned to take refuge from dangers by hiding in closets.

Daryl called Sophia's name again and got no response. Whether it was wishful thinking or not, he felt like she'd been there. He felt like she'd made the pallet. She'd eaten the sardines, and more than likely anything else that she could find, and she'd slept in the closet. She wasn't there, but she'd been there and it hadn't been that long ago.

He was taking it as a sign.

He also realized that, if she was one of those children who took refuge in nooks and crannies and hid herself for protection, then his job just got a lot more complicated. Now, besides just having to find her, he had to face the fact that he might be involved in of the biggest hide and seek games that ever took place. He could hope that she'd come to him, when she heard him, because she recognized his voice—but he also had to imagine that she might be so overwhelmed at this point that she was hiding from everything.

After all, she'd been betrayed once before—she'd been left behind—and that didn't always inspire the most trust in children.

Daryl stepped out of the house, recognizing that he'd find no better signs there that Sophia was alive and she was close by than the ones he'd already found, and he called her name again once he was in the fresh air. There was still no response, but there was something of a renewed hope in Daryl that he was on the right track.

It wasn't going to be fast, and it wasn't going to be easy, but he was on the right track. Sophia had been here and he was going to find her. He had a sign—and that was all he really needed to keep his hope up.

Looking around outside, searching for any kind of tracks that might tell him where she'd gone when she'd left the house, Daryl saw another sign that lifted his spirits just a little more. He walked toward the vines that were bunching together and knelt down. Among them was a single Cherokee Rose in bloom. He examined the flower. Merle had always told him he was stupid for his theories and his superstitions. He'd always said that believing in signs and things like that was as childish as believing in Santa Clause or the Easter Bunny—all made up and really doing nothing for anyone.

But Daryl still believed. And the Cherokee Rose, blooming there, just outside the house, was just another little push for him.

He picked the flower, carefully tucking it into his pocket to take with him, and he stood up to finish his short walk in the direction that he was headed before he looped back around toward the farm for water and to regroup—he had to be smart about this to find Sophia before she wandered too far away. He didn't know how long she'd slept, but he knew that she was at least a few hours ahead of him. She was, hopefully, hanging somewhere in the area and looking for her way back to the highway. And now he knew that the houses that dotted the countryside were places that he couldn't entirely dismiss in his search, so he needed a look at Hershel's map to get an idea of where some of the other close-by farms might be located.

It wasn't going to be easy, but Daryl had always been pretty damn good at hide and seek.