Disclaimer: I own nothing from The Walking Dead.

Prompted by carylwarrior on Tumblr.

These Hearts of Ours

Chapter 1

"Maybe we'll get to the other side of the woods, and everybody will be there."

"That's stupid. Everybody's dead. Or running. Just like us."

"But they could be! They could have gotten out, and they could be waiting on the other side of the woods to see if anybody else gets out."

"If they're still alive, they won't be for long."

"You think we'll die, too?"

"Everybody dies. And then they come back. Who knows what happens after that?" Lizzie Samuels looked down at her little sister and shrugged her shoulders. "That's just the way it is."

"Well, I don't like it," Mika replied with a huff. "And not everybody's dead. We're still here." She sighed heavily and shrugged. "I miss Carol."

"Carol's probably dead. Like dad. We only have each other now." The crunch of footsteps up ahead stopped, and Lizzie flinched, nearly smacking right into a pair of angel wings on the back of a black vest. "Do you see something?"

"You ever stop talkin'?" Daryl Dixon grumbled, turning and hoisting baby Judith up a little bit. For such a little thing, she sure got heavy after a few miles. Mika tugged on Lizzie's shirt sleeve, when Daryl turned back around.

"What?" Lizzie hissed at her sister.

"Don't make him mad. He's all we've got." Lizzie shrugged off her sister and moved to walk beside Daryl. Mika sighed and moved her legs a little faster to keep up.

"Is it 'cause Beth's dead? That's why you're sad?" Daryl said nothing. "That wasn't your fault. She shouldn't have run back toward the cell block. That was dumb."

"Just. Stop. Talkin'." Daryl's voice was low and gruff, and if the girls hadn't known him and seen what a good guy he was since they'd arrived at the prison, they might have been slightly frightened.

"Want me to carry Judith for a while?"

"I got her. You two keep up." Daryl grunted, shifting the baby to his hip. Judith fussed slightly, and he bounced her as he walked, calming her down a little.

"Maybe she's hungry." Mika offered. "Or maybe she needs a new diaper."

"She'll let us know when she's hungry," Daryl said with a nod.

"I'm tired," Lizzie sighed. "Can we stop?"

"Ain't safe here. Walkers on the other side of that ridge. We're fish in a barrel here." Daryl nodded his head forward, indicating that they needed to keep going. Lizzie sighed and shrugged her shoulders, shifting her bag to her other shoulder and absently brushing her ponytail off of her shoulder.

"I'm hungry," Mika chimed in. Daryl sighed heavily.

"Why can't we go up toward the road? There could be a car," Lizzie offered.

"Road's just as dangerous. Least out here, we got some cover." Judith fussed then, and Daryl knew it wouldn't be long before they had no choice but to stop for the night. "Just a little longer. We'll find a place. Maybe a cabin. Just keep walkin', girls."

And they did. They followed him through dirt paths and around large trees and over mud puddles and big boulders. Mika chimed in that it reminded her of hiking with their parents, chattering on and on in a way that made Daryl wonder if she had an off switch. Still, it was nice to have some sort of noise, some sort of normal in all of the chaos. Everybody was either dying or dead. Lizzie was right. And if they weren't, they were gone, and they'd probably never see them again. He'd been angry that Rick had banished Carol, but there'd been no time for arguments. And now that they were out here in the middle of nowhere, he was actually thankful that Carol hadn't been there for the end. She hadn't seen Hershel get his neck split open, hadn't seen all of those people riddled with bullets or just blown to hell. She was somewhere else, and he hoped she was safe.

They walked about an hour longer, until the roof of a small house came into sight. He stopped in his tracks, hoisting the baby up on his hip a little further.

"What is it?" Lizzie asked, staring off in the direction Daryl pointed.

"I don't see anything," Mika muttered.

"You're too short. I see it," Lizzie beamed. "A house! Come on, Mika!" Lizzie took off running, and Mika hurried after her.

"Hey! Slow down!" Daryl hissed, keeping his voice low but urgent. The girls didn't listen. He sighed heavily, holding the baby close as he took off after them toward the house.

It wasn't much more than a shack. Probably an old hunting cabin. But it would do for shelter for a night or two. There was a pipe coming out of the roof, which meant that there was at least a stove. Daryl figured if he could manage to get a few squirrels, they'd have enough food to last a day or two.

"Stop!" he hissed, as Mika reached for the doorknob. She jumped, looking back at him with wide, innocent eyes. "Stop. Just…hold the kid." He handed Judith down to Mika, who struggled to hold onto the wriggling, fussy child. "You stay here. Lizzie? You got this?"

"Yeah," Lizzie said pointedly, tucking her shirt behind her knife. She grabbed her gun and held it steady at her side. Poised. Daryl eyed her, and she looked at him. "Carol taught me." He nodded then, swallowing back the pain he felt at hearing her name.

"Ok. Just wait. I'll come out when it's safe." He brought his crossbow off of his shoulder, placing his finger on the trigger. Reaching for the doorknob, he slowly let the door creak open, peeking his head inside to examine the dark room. He banged on the threshold heavily with his foot, looking around for any sign of a walker. Grabbing his flashlight, he held it between his teeth, giving himself a better view of the cabin inside.

The door shut behind him, and he quickly checked the windows and the back door for security. There was a small room off to the back that held a bed, big enough for the girls to share. There was a beat up old sofa against one wall of the bigger room and a small table next to the stove. There was a jug of water, store bought and still sealed, which at least meant they would have something to drink and make Judith's bottles with, even if they didn't have any food for themselves. It would have to do.

He put his crossbow down and made his way about the place, finding a couple of old lanterns with oil still in them. He searched for a pack of matches, finding luck with a half-used pack. He quickly lit the lamps, brightening the place just slightly. Then he headed outside for the girls.

They were huddled together, Lizzie watching one direction, Mika watching the other.

"C'mon. Get inside. This'll do for tonight." The girls quickly made their way in, and Lizzie deposited Judith on the sofa.

"What is this place?"

"It's four walls and a roof," Daryl offered with a shrug. "Bed in the back room. You girls can have that. You watch Asskicker for a bit, and I'll try and get us some food."

"You're leaving?" Mika asked, alarm raising in her voice.

"Ain't goin' far. You two don't leave the cabin for nothin', you hear me?" Lizzie nodded, swallowing hard.

"I'll keep watch," she promised. "It's ok, Mika. He'll come back."

"Or he'll die, like you said." Mika sat down on the sofa next to Judith, and Daryl looked to the older girl. He had no time to reassure or coddle the child. Hell, he didn't even know if he knew how to do such a thing. All he knew was that if they didn't eat, they'd be weak within days and far too vulnerable to being caught by a walker should they come upon one.

"I ain't gonna die," Daryl muttered. "Just sit tight. Don't make a sound. I'll be back soon as I can." With that, he grabbed his crossbow and headed out of the cabin, shutting the door quietly behind himself. He stood outside of the cabin, listening to the rustling of the leaves, the whistling of the wind, an offering of a storm that he hoped would pass them by. With a deep breath, he started off into the thicker woods, hoping he wouldn't come back empty handed.

...

Daryl had backtracked. About a half hour away from the house, he'd spotted some trees peppered with squirrel dreys, a perfect location for hunting. So, he settled down, leaning back against a tree, taking stock of the area, watching as squirrels darted from limb to limb high in the treetops. He took a few breaths, steadying his bow when a squirrel came scurrying across the path between him and another tree.

His finger pressed the trigger, and the bolt flew, striking the squirrel right through the belly. It fell over, dead, and Daryl didn't move. He waited. There would be more, and he wasn't about to scare off his chance of supper just yet.

He waited. Three more squirrels came along in about ten minute increments. He'd wait for a few more. But, just as he was eyeing the next squirrel to start making its way down the large tree trunk, he heard the snap of a twig, sending the critter scurrying back up the tree and out of sight. Daryl silently cursed under his breath, standing, loading another bolt into his crossbow. He stepped around the tree, keeping his back pressed against it. Another twig. The rustle of leaves. Fuck!

The dragging steps grew closer, and Daryl chewed the inside of his cheek, making a last moment decision to put his crossbow down and reach for his knife. He didn't want to take a chance of losing the bolt and giving the walker the advantage.

He closed his eyes for a moment, taking a heavy breath as he heard the scrape of fingers against bark. Pulling his buck knife out of his back pocket, he opened his eyes, turned and lunged, hearing a gasp as fingers closed around his wrist, and he came face to face with her. Blue eyes blinked at him in shock, as her mouth fell open, and tears pooled in her eyes.

"Daryl?" she panted, fingers loosening around his wrist, as he let go of the knife, letting it fall into the dirt. He was frozen there, taken over by the sight of her, uncertain if perhaps he'd actually died back at the prison and was now in his version of heaven where she was there and everything was good again. Her chest heaved as she fought for breath, and he bridged the gap between them, pulling his arms around her, burying his face against her neck as he choked back the urge to cry. Carol was here. Carol was alive.

Her hands gripped his back, as he pulled her in closer, lifting her slightly off the ground, unwilling to let go of her, wanting to make sure she wouldn't disappear if he did. He looked up at her then, unable to fight the way his lip trembled or his eyes misted over. He saw her smile then, and she brought her hand to his face before he put his head back down against her shoulder.

But the reunion was short lived, as he felt something warm and wet against his forehead. She was groaning in pain, and he pulled back, wiping at his forehead. His fingers came back red.

"What happened?" he panted, wiping his hand on his pants before he moved to gently examine her shoulder.

"I was at the prison," she admitted. "I saw…God, I saw the end, and everyone was running. I…I got hit by a stray bullet. It went through. Clean. I bandaged it, but it's…it needs stitches."

"Jesus," he murmured, gently pulling back the fabric of her jacket to assess the wound. "Come on."

"What?"

"There's a place."

"Daryl? Where are they? Where are the rest of them?"

"Come on," he murmured gravely. "I ain't worried 'bout that right now. Let's just get you somewhere safe." He pulled his buck knife out of the ground and pocketed it, slung his crossbow over his shoulders and proceeded to toss the dead squirrels into a burlap sack. Then, he moved to Carol's side, bringing his arm around her to keep her steady as they walked. No way in hell would he let her fall. No way in hell was he ever letting go of her again.