Daryl Dixon stirred in his sleep, a frown passing over his features as consciousness began to return to him. He blinked a few times, trying to get his eyes to adjust to the darkness, finding the pale light that filled the room inadequate.
He pushed himself into a sitting position and looked around, quickly counting the sleeping bodies that were scattered around, making sure none of the group were missing. He saw T-Dog perched on a chair by the door, watching him as he woke up.
"Started about five minutes ago," he said quietly, "figured I'd wait a little, see if you woke up."

Daryl let out a deep sigh and nodded, turning his attention to the figure lying beside him- Lizzie was moaning a little, letting out the occasionally whimper as she rolled around. The nightmares had started up about a month beforehand, coming to her once the fever hit. They'd spent a couple of weeks alone, keeping away from the rest of the group as they slept, hoping to give them some undisturbed rest and avoid drawing any unwanted attention to the whole party. Once Lizzie had shook off the worst of the illness, they'd returned but it hadn't been long until the rest of them realised that the dreams were there to stay- they gave her a wide berth when it came to settling down for the night, it had been known for her to lash out unexpectedly.
He had been there, every night, positioned between her and the door- just in case anyone or anything got inside- listening out for the first hint of disturbance, ready to wake her up and save her from whatever it was that was haunting her.

"Lizzie." He said softly, kneeling down next to her and rolling her over so she was lying on her back.
She hadn't tied her hair up before she'd gone to sleep and it fanned around her head, only just reaching past her shoulders now- something Daryl hadn't been all too happy about when he'd seen Carl standing there, holding a knife in one hand and five inches or so of Lizzie's hair in the other.
"Lizzie," he repeated, shaking her shoulder gently, leaning in close to her so his voice didn't disturb the others. Her face was screwed up, he wasn't sure whether it was with pain or fear, and she began to whimper, "Lizzie! Dammit girl, wake up!"

Suddenly her eyes shot open and she drew in a breath ready to scream. Daryl slipped one of his hands behind her neck to support her as he lifted her slightly, clamping his other hand firmly over her mouth to silence her.
"Hey, it's me, I'm here, okay? We're all here; it's only a dream..." He looked down at her as she trembled slightly, her eyes still wide and unblinking, "Lizzie?"
She blinked, exhaling deeply as she suddenly zoned back in. When her eyes focused on Daryl, studying his face for a second, making sure she wasn't still dreaming, she nodded.

As he removed his hand from her mouth, she smiled up at him- her million dollar smile that made his heart melt just a little- and he couldn't help but smirk back at her.
"Bought me back again Mr Dixon," she said, her voice croaking a little, "what'd I do without you?"
"Ain't never gonna find that out so it don't matter," he shrugged, moving backwards as she pushed herself into a sitting position and ran her hands through her hair, yawning as she began to wake up, "what were you dreamin'?"
"Believe it or not, I don't even remember," she lied, shrugging and plastering a fake grin on her face, "so I really was makin' all that fuss over nothin'!"

He eyed her suspiciously for a moment, he'd noticed that every time he questioned her dreams, she told him she didn't remember and he figured she was lying. When she continued to beam at him he sighed and shrugged, realising that tonight wouldn't be the night she told him.
She felt a twinge of guilt as Daryl looked away. There was no reason for her to lie to him but she still did... She figured it was a matter of pride- she didn't want to hear anyone, least of all him, say that 'it was just a dream'.

"Hey..." She said quietly, reaching towards him and stroking his face, forcing him to look at her again. She held one hand against his cheek, running her thumb across his lips as the other stroked his hair- it had grown a little over the winter and she had to admit that it looked good on him... And it sure was great to grab hold of.
He looked at her for a long moment, watching as she studied his face, smiling at whatever it was she liked so much about it. He loved her, more than he'd ever loved anyone or anything before, and he could see that she felt the same- there was something in her eyes when she looked at him, something she didn't need to express anymore.

"Do I need to say it?" She asked, smirking a little.
"I already know." He answered as he shook his head.
They smiled at each other before moving in for a kiss. Their lips only met briefly but it was enough to make Lizzie's heart start beating that little bit faster. She tried to pull away but Daryl had slid his hand around the back of her neck and he pulled her in closer, intensifying their kiss. When she felt his tongue brush against her lips she almost jumped him then and there... Until she heard T Dog clear his throat loudly from the doorway.

They pulled away from each other steadily, unsure whether they should be laughing or feeling embarrassed. It was Lizzie who turned and scowled at T.
"What's your problem?" She asked, pulling a face.
"Get a room." T sighed, shaking his head.
"Looks like it's gonna hafta wait." She muttered, turning back to Daryl and smiling.
"S'always worth the wait." Daryl smirked.
Before she had a chance to answer him, there was a muffled thump from outside. Daryl rose instantly, reaching for his crossbow and picking his way carefully across the floor to peer through the window.

Lizzie stood, her axe still resting on the floor, her new shiny toy- a mean looking machete that was a hell of a lot easier to strap to her belt and carry- firmly in her grip, and watched as Daryl scanned the garden below- another thump had reached her ears. There had been a lot of debate about where they were going to sleep, some had wanted to stay downstairs so there would be an easier escape route if they were discovered but the bed upstairs in the master bedroom had been in great shape and was just what Lori, who was now heavily pregnant and fit to burst, needed. Rather than split the group in two, they'd all opted to stay upstairs- safety in numbers and all that jazz- with someone on guard duty at all times, just in case.

"I don't see anythin'," Daryl reported as he made his way back over to where Lizzie was now standing beside T, "but we oughta check it out, jus' in case."
"I'll come with," Lizzie said instantly, nodding to him and looking up at T, "if we find anythin', we'll sound the alarm."
"What's the alarm?" He asked so he knew what to listen out for.
"Screamin'," she said grimly, "lots an' lotsa screamin'."
"Be ready to move 'em outta here," Daryl said as he nodded to T before turning to look at Lizzie, "you ready for this?"
"Damn straight," she nodded, stepping up behind him, "I gotcha back."

They made their way across the landing as quietly as possible, listening out for any further noises- the strange, muffled thumping kept repeating and once they reached the top of the stairs, a louder, splintering sound reached their ears before one final crash.
"What're you thinkin'?" Daryl asked, pausing at the top and looking at his woman, waiting for her consent to descend.
"The fence in the yard?" She shrugged, "Walkers coulda sniffed us out, knocked it over somehow."
"What if it ain't walkers?" He asked, watching her face for a reaction.

Since the whole debacle of Randall back at the farm- sometimes, when she thought about it, it seemed like a lifetime ago- Lizzie had maintained her stance on killing people... And that stance was that she wasn't going to do it.
As if Shane hadn't been example enough of why killing people was bad, she'd seen what it had done to Rick- their steadfast leader had crumbled, almost broken, under the weight of the guilt. He'd pushed his friends, his own family, so far away from himself that she wasn't sure if they'd ever all get back to being how they used to be.
Did she want to live like that? Did she fuck. Killing zombies was good, killing people was bad.

"Then why'd they knock the fence down when they coulda jus' climbed up an' over it?" She asked.
Daryl wanted to argue, he wanted to tell her to go back and wake the others and send Rick over, they'd take care of it... But he knew there was no point. She was stubborn as an ass and she was probably right, no use getting into an argument over nothing.
Instead, he held his tongue and nodded, pulling out his flashlight and motioning for Lizzie to do the same, before they began to edge their way down the stairs.

"Left or right?" He whispered when they reached the bottom.
"I'll take the right," she replied, deciding to head towards the kitchen at the back of the house, where the noise had most likely been coming from, "watch yourself, y'hear?"
He gave her a look that implied that it shouldn't be him she was worrying about- her reckless streak still shone through every now and then- and moved away, keeping his light firmly on the floor, leaving her standing there alone.

She thought back to her dream and shook her head- nothing was going to happen to Daryl. They'd been bunking in this house for about a week now and, so far, it had proved fairly safe- there were still walkers in the surrounding area, but it's positioning on the outskirts of the little estate it was on seemed to deter them somehow.
She heard movement from upstairs, hushed voiced conferring and the sound of people stirring. At least everyone was waking up, just in case they needed to make a quick getaway.

She edged towards the kitchen, keeping the light angled at the floor to make sure she didn't alert anyone- or anything- outside to her presence. The curtains had been torn down when they arrived so the windows had been blocked with various pieces of furniture and spare sheets. It didn't allow for a lot of light to get in but the moon was bright, so visibility wasn't too bad... The torch, she realised, was mostly for peace of mind.

There were no signs of disturbance inside and, when she reached the kitchen, she let out a breath she didn't realise she'd been holding.
Ain't nobody here but us chickens, she thought to herself, switching the flashlight off and sliding it back into her back pocket.
She stood quietly for a moment, listening for any signs of Daryl- nothing. Must've been a false alarm, she thought, frowning slightly, but what was alla that noise...?

She heard something hit the window and she whirled around, grabbing the flashlight again and shining it towards the glass. The light glared back at her and she swore under her breath, flicking it off again and staring in disappointment- there was a walker looking back at her.
Within a few seconds, two more had joined it and she heard more shuffling along outside the house, bumping up against the door and the walls, trying to get in.
"Oh shit." She muttered, backing away.

She turned to hurry back upstairs and warn the others and let out a shout of surprise as she ran straight in to Daryl.
"Jesus woman, keep your fuckin' voice down!" He hissed, "We got company!"
"You fuckin' think?" She snapped, "What're you doin' sneakin' up on me?"
"I saw 'em movin' out there, was comin' to make sure you were okay," he explained, looking exasperated, "seein' as they know we're in here now, we better get the others an' get the hell out."
"It ain't my damn fault you scared the shit outta me," she growled, jabbing him in the chest with her finger, "maybe if you didn't smell so fuckin'' bad they wouldn'tve picked up on our scent!"

He opened his mouth to argue with her but the sound of splintering wood reached his ears and he shook his head instead, grabbing her wrist and dragging her back towards the stairs.
"I ain't got time for this," he growled, pushing her towards the steps, "go get the others, tell 'em we're leavin'."
"Daryl? Lizzie?" Rick called, already halfway down the stairs, "What's goin' on?"
"Gotta make a move," Daryl explained, "they found us."
"Hey, where're you going?" Rick asked as Lizzie pushed past him.
"To get the others." She said over her shoulder.
"They'll be fine, we might hafta fight our way out, we'll need you to..." Rick began.
"So I'll send Glenn an' Maggie down to you," she said, turning to look at him, "I'm gettin' the kids... An' your wife."

Rick didn't argue with her. Instead he turned back to Daryl and drew his gun, motioning for him to follow towards the front door.
"What's goin' on down there?" T asked as Lizzie reached the top.
"Walkers," she said quickly, "we gotta go."
"Hey Glenn, come gimme a hand!" T shouted as he headed towards the stairs.
"It's times like this I wish we had some coffee." Glenn muttered as he stumbled past Lizzie, Maggie right behind him.
"My dad..." Maggie began.
"I'll get 'em outta here, don't worry." Lizzie nodded, winking at her friend.

"How many are there?" Lori asked as Lizzie entered the room. She was clutching her belly protectively.
"It's hard to say," she answered honestly, "too dark out to see, you got everythin'?"
"Everything we've got left." Hershel said, his arm wrapped around Beth's shoulders as he herded her towards the door, shotgun in hand.
"Hey Lizzie, don't forget Dorothy!" Carl said as he held her axe out towards her.
"I'm as likely to forget her as I am to forget you," she said with a grin as she took the axe from him, replacing the machete in its sheath. She swung the axe in her hand, getting the feel of it back before she turned and nodded to Carol who had stepped up beside Lori, "let's get the fuck outta here."

She stooped to get her backpack as the women hurried past her and she slung it over her shoulder, looking down at Carl.
"Alright my man," she nodded, "let's make sure they get outta here safe."
"Yes boss." He grinned, letting her steer him out the room.
She looked down for Daryl's things but they were already gone- Carol had, no doubt, picked them up for him. She rolled her eyes, refraining from making a comment in front of Carl.

Their vehicles were parked right by the door, all unlocked- no one had been sure whether that was a good idea seeing as anyone could come along and loot through them or even hotwire them but it seemed like a better idea than fumbling with the keys when a horde of zombies was descending upon them.
"They aren't around the front yet," T reported, calling over the heads of the others to Lizzie, "haven't figured out how to open the gates!"
"Give us a chance to make a run for the cars," she replied, turning her attention to Carl, "go to your mom, make sure she stays safe, okay?"

She followed the group outside, watching as they scrambled to the vehicles, all knowing which one they needed to get into- it was a drill they'd had to repeat a lot more than any of them would have liked, but that was the way of things now.
The roar of Daryl's motorcycle approaching took her attention and she turned to close the front door behind her, noticing the puzzled look on his face when she turned back.
"Habit." She shrugged, swinging her pack around to her front so she could stow her axe before she climbed onto his bike.

As soon as she was settled, he pulled away from the house, swinging around to make sure everyone was ready to go before he accelerated away in front of them, leading the way out of the estate.
Lizzie let out a sigh and rested her head on his back.
"I really smell that bad?" He said suddenly, having to almost shout the words to her to make sure she heard.
"Yeah," she called back, "but I guess I'll get used to it."
"Best do," he warned, "coz I don't wash for no woman."

She laughed to herself and squeezed him slightly before she nestled against him as they rode into the night, doing what they did best after a whole nine months of practice, doing the thing Lizzie had promised not to do anymore... Running.