Chapter 2:

Fatherhood

It was my turn to do the night watch, and I wouldn't be able to sleep anyways. I really wasn't used to the heat, even at night I was sweating my ass off. I'd slept in the woods before; sometimes when things got really bad up in Washington, we would retreat into the woods for safety. But I still wasn't used to it. I preferred the open roads because you knew your surroundings better but dad said it was safer in the woods by the highway.

So there I sat with a bow and arrow in my lap leaning up against a tree.

We didn't leave with much since we were kinda in a hurry. The only things we really brought were weapons and whatever was in our bags at the time. So when I saw Beth shivering, because apparently I was the only one who felt the heat, I felt a flash of anger. It wasn't right that Beth had to leave Washington in the condition she was in.

I gripped tightly at my bow and glanced back over at Beth, still shivering, tossing and turning in her sleep. Then I stared at my leather jacket that I had neglected to wear and yanked at it. I hopped between all the sleeping bodies, trying to keep a perfect balance and not fall on anybody. I lost my footing a little and near stood on Rick's face, then grinned at the close call. Beth laid there hugging herself with Daryl next to her, his arm underneath her blonde head. I smiled down at them for a second until I realised how creepy that could be construed, then flicked out my jacket and gently placed it over her stomach.

I felt proud when the shivering stopped and walked back over to my tree. I sighed from the heat and dabbed away the sweat on my forehead with the dirty rag from my pocket, probably leaving grease marks across my face.

Oh well.

I stared over at Tara who had incidentally leaned into Abraham's rather large body and I grinned. I saw my dad sleeping between them and Michonne, whose hand was naturally curled around her sword. And then I saw Carl curled up in a ball at the edge of our circle all on his own.

I worried about him sometimes. Worried that maybe he was too lonely. But this world kind of has a slim pickings problem and we haven't exactly come across many friendly types. And the ones we did didn't last long.

I didn't have that problem; the lonely thing... Hell, I preferred it. Guess it's because I've grown up surrounded by family, never with a moment to myself. It was moments like these that were worth cherishing.

But the moments with walkers were even better.

I heard the groans and the snapping of twigs; four, maybe five were coming our way from behind me and my tree. I considered waking up Tara or Carl, but I knew the long travel had tired them out, and they really needed to rest.

Without another second's hesitation, I picked up my machete that I named 'Dally' with my bow slung over my shoulder and ran silently towards the walkers. I slowed down when I heard them from mere meters away and crouched slightly with my machete raised in front of me, readjusting my grip. The sounds they made muted out slightly by the pumping of my heart and I smirked slightly in anticipation.

Then I saw them. Shit. I miscalculated; there were ten of them, which really changed things. "Shit," I muttered to myself as their stench began to waft up my nose. I stared down at my feet and saw my saviour. A little rock; no bigger than the size of my palm. I tucked Dally into my belt, raised my bow and slung the rock against the trees opposite me. The walkers heard and turned around, heading towards the noise.

Morons.

I followed them slowly and quietly, getting closer and closer. They were in a circular clump and I began to raise my machete again as I approached them.

I finished them off within seconds. I sliced off the heads of the two closest to me in one hard swing, then twirled and hit the one to the left at the back of the head, then yanked. I heard the walker slump to the ground and by that point, three of the walkers had their hands near on me. I kicked one of them away by the stomach and it fell to the ground for a moment, then punched the other with a gloved hand hard enough that it fell as well.

"Aargh," groaned the fat one loudly as its hands curled around my shoulders, pushing me against a tree. But I didn't panic. I merely stared into its dead eyes as I placed the flat blade against its chin, then thrusted it up into its skull. The other two had made it up to their knees making it easy for me to slice their heads off.

That left the other four.

Two were inches away from me and the others were directly behind them like they were waiting in line for their turn. I didn't have enough space in front of me to kill them both with the machete, so I left it stuck in one of their heads, and pushed away the other with my hands. I yanked the hunters knife from my boot and shoved it through the eye of the one closest to me, then did the same with the other one. Then there was one simple one left.

Cake.

I raised my blade above my head, aimed and threw it at the walker's head. It went right between the eyes. My aim wasn't that good—it was just luck, but still... It counts.

It was only after that I realised how out of breath I was. I stared down at the walkers that surrounded me and I grinned. Rick says it's not something to be proud of, but Carl told me it was ok to be. Said he understood.

"I win," I said to myself before smirking once more and reaching for my weapons. I yanked my hunters knife out of the bald head and wiped it against the walker's shredded shirt, and did the same with Dally.

"Your timing needs work, girl," someone grunted. Ah, that familiarly gruff grunt that could come from none other than Daryl Dixon.

I stood up, not taking my eyes off my handy work and frowned. "The hell's wrong with my timing?"

"A lot of thangs," he said. I cocked my head to stare at him narrowly as he leaned against a tree with his arms crossed and his head lowered in that slight way he did.

I shoved my blade back into my boot after momentarily pointing it at him. "You're the one who taught me," I informed him.

"Mm," he murmured, stroking his lips with his thumb, "Y'think you would have better timin' then, huh?"

I grinned and he snorted in return. "Come on," he said, raising his arm towards me. If it were my dad, I would have said something snide, or at least given him a glare. But this was Daryl. I wouldn't dare disrespect him. So I walked onwards, back towards our pathetic little camp.

I heard Daryl trip over the wired cans and saw him stumble a little, glaring at the cans angrily like it was their fault.

"Your stealth needs work," I quipped, holding back a smirk.

His glare at the cans raised to look at me. "Best watch your mouth there, Lil' Asskicker," he said with the warning raise of his brow.

Asskicker... See, that was a cool name. Way cooler than Judith. I remembered back to the time when I was about ten and I complained to Carl about that name and how it was so typical of dad to choose such a sucky one. He waited ten whole minutes of my bitching about my lame name before telling me he was the one who actually named me.

Dick.

Well, I was the dick. But he was a dick for making me out to be a dick. I liked the name Judith more after that, though still not as much as I liked Asskicker. Thanks, Daryl.

We were lucky not to have woken anyone by the noise Daryl made. But considering the fact that most of us hadn't gotten more than a few hours' sleep in the past three days, it made sense that it didn't wake them.

"You really should learn to be more quiet," I teased and he just stared at me with that 'not impressed' face.

"Want me to take over watch?"

I shook my head, not considering it for a second. "Nah, man. You should get more sleep than anyone. Not like you're gonna be getting much after the baby pops out."

He pressed his lips together and bobbed his head slowly in agreement. I was told that once it was hard to get Daryl to shut the hell up; apparently everything that came out of his mouth was something racist—but clearly he'd changed. Carl said that I was partial to that because I was a baby and all... Brought hope or whatever to the group.

Personally, I was curious to meet the old Daryl.

"You okay?" I asked him in a whisper as I sat back against my tree while he just stood and lingered.

"Mm-hm... Just the whole baby thang..."

I frowned. "My, my, is the great Daryl Dixon scared of fatherhood?"

His aged eyes narrowed down on me in a slight glare. "Maybe," he sneered, before staring down at his shoes.

I found it hard to believe that Daryl could be scared of anything. He was the bravest person I knew. "Well..." I couldn't think of anything comforting to say. Not in the least. "You know... Don't..." I said, but sort of with a question mark at the end.

Man, I suck at the whole comforting stuff. Something me and him had in common.

"Real comforting, thanks," he muttered sarcastically.

I was totally useless. I knew nothing about fatherhood or being a parent. I was the youngest here; everyone took care of me as a baby, so what the hell did I know? At this point, I wanted nothing more then for Beth to just wake up.

I raised my bow over my head and laid it across my lap, keeping my quiver full of arrows strung over my shoulder. "Look, you're gonna be great," I told him. "Took care of me, didn't you?" I smiled at him weakly. "That's what I'm told, anyway," I said with a shrug.

Daryl just bobbed his head, not saying a word. It was like talking to a wall.

"Yeah but... you were easy... Didn't say nothin'."

I snorted, "Trust me, Daryl, if it's your kid, it won't make a sound."

Daryl gave me a weak smile before coming and sitting against the tree next to me. "I just... I can't lose no more people... I'm tired of it."

I stared at his face, lit up by the light of the full moon. He looked sad; I don't know how else to describe it. He just looked sad.

"You're gonna be a great dad," I told him with a wide smile, before I even knew what I was saying.

"I just hope I'm as good as Rick is," he grunted, glancing sideways at me before looking back down at the floor.

I bobbed my head slowly. I didn't want to disagree with him, because I knew Rick was a good dad. He raised me and he raised my brother, so he must be a great dad.

"You will be." I said, knowing without a doubt that I was telling the truth.

Daryl smirked slightly. "Sadly the best name's already been taken." He smiled at me and nudged my shoulder with his. "Lil' Asskicker."