Shane sat on the stump in the middle of the woods, silently cursing himself and all of those around him. For a split second he hated that he had shaved his head for the simple reason that he wanted to pull his hair so he could focus on a different kind of pain. A real pain and not the rip in the heart he had now.

A baby?

He knew it was his. It had to be. Rick had no right to claim that child. That was his child. Swiftly, Shane swung around, his fist connected with the nearest tree. Blood oozed from the open gashes on his knuckles, skin sticking to the bark from the impact of the hit. A sick, sinister smile covered his face as he stood up, poised with both fists against the tree. "That's my fucking baby, Lori," he howled throwing a three-two punch combination at the tree. He almost wished he could uppercut the bark, but settled for a branch. "Fuck Rick. That man ain't your husband. I'm the one that saved you and Carl. I'm the man you can rely on to keep you safe."

"I think you're off your fucking rocker," came the southern drawl behind him.

Shane whirled, surprised to see Daryl so close, squirrels swinging from his hip from his abrupt stop. His crossbow was loaded but pointed down at the forest floor giving Shane a false confidence that he could knock it out of his hand before he could raise it on him if need be.

"That fuck you know about it, Dixon?" he spat, flexing his bloody knuckles at his sides. His body heaved with the intensity of his breath and emotion. Every nerve ending was on fire and his body was ready. If Daryl wanted a fight, he was more than willing to go more than ten rounds right now.

Instead, Daryl just shrugged and tried to walk past him. "Just saw ya punch a tree yelling at a woman that ain't here who ain't yer wife."

Shane was too quick, grabbing the younger man and throwing him against the tree he just savagely beat, disarming him of his crossbow without incident. "It ain't none of your business, you got it?" he sneered. "'Sides, ain't like you don't have secrets of your own."

Daryl's body tensed up, his fight or flight mode being thrown into full gear. Shane pinned him hard, using his full body weight to keep the struggling man down. "Ain't got no

secrets," he huffed as he twisted and tried to pry his way out of the steel strong, bloody grip.

Shane leaned in close, pressing his body flush against the other man's, instantly ceasing all of his fighting. Strong hands still gripped the dirty biceps, flexing wildly underneath his fingers, keeping him trapped. "You think I don't see the way you look at Rick? Huh? You think I don't see how you're like a damn lapdog all curled up at his side, waiting for any handouts you can get, even if it's just a pat on the head. Fucking pathetic, Daryl. Is that the way your daddy and brother treated you? Huh?" he hummed.

Daryl's face grew red hot, tears threatening to fall from behind slitted eyes. "Fuck off, Shane! You don't know nothing!" he shouted at him, struggling against the larger man again. "Ain't like that!"

But Shane continued, his anger finding a new outlet. "Naw, I think it is just like that. Rick all shows the smallest amount of affection towards you and you're head over heels. Just one word of praise and you're done for. Did you jack off in your tent last night after that little scene y'all had around the fire? Your hand stroking your cock, wishing it was the same hand that was all up on your shoulder?"

"Fuck off, Shane. It ain't like that. I ain't like that. I ain't queer," Daryl spat at him, finally dislodging the other man enough to get free but not before he was tripped.

Sputtering around in the dead leaves littering the forest floor, Daryl was back up quickly, crossbow in hand. Shane contemplated making another run at the man, but the look of dishevelment and the crossbow raised, pointed at his heart, stopped him. Fists clenching and unclenching at his sides, body still thrumming for some sort of energy release, he yelled, "You going to shoot me? Huh, Daryl? You ain't got the balls, boy!"

Daryl grunted, eyeing Shane from the straightline of the bow, seriously contemplating ending all of their problems right here. But no, he knew Shane was looking for a fight and that he could damn well lose it quickly with the man as strung up as he was. Instead, he just mumbled, "Naw, you ain't my problem to get rid of." Making sure he still had the squirrels tied to himself, he lowered his crossbow down, swung on his heel and left, giving Shane his back.

"What? You going to run off and tell your boyfriend Rick I assaulted you?" he called after him.

Daryl stopped, turned his head slightly with a small smirk. "Nah, he'll be pissed enough

when he finds out you've been fucking his wife and that ain't his baby."

Hours later Shane wandered back to camp, hands bloody and bruised and his clothes stained. The others already situated around the fire in the dimming sunlight eyed him as he walked straight back to his tent, unzipping it and disappearing inside.

Daryl watched from his own camp a little ways away from the others, shaking his head. Even the drama from the old world carried into this world. There was shit that he'd rather not get involved in and that three way relationship was definitely one of them. With a grunt of disapproval, he got up and dipped into his tent as he saw Carol stand up from the group, looking over at him. The ground gave away her soft footsteps as she neared his tent.

Cautiously, she called out, "Daryl? We have food ready. Why don't you join us?"

Her shadow was just barely visible through the tent wall as he stared up from the ground.

"Naw, I'll be all right."

"Daryl, we'd really like it if you would join us," she tried again.

He grumbled silently. Damn woman wouldn't take a hint. Moved all the way out here for a reason and the fucking people still wouldn't leave him the hell alone. "I said no." A full minute ticked by before he heard her walk away. Closing his eyes, he let a semi-alert slumber take over, his body slick with sweat still from the stifling Georgia heat.

"Daryl?" Rick's soft voice woke him up. He grunted in response, rolling over onto his side, hoping like hell the officer would go away. But alas, "I brought you some food. Carol said that you might be too tired to come over. I thought it would be nice to eat out here with you, and maybe have a conversation. Just the two of us."

"The hell you want, Grimes? 'M sleepin," he growled.

"Daryl…," Rick tried again. "You have to eat something. Please? I'm not beyond begging."

He sat up with a huff, unzipping the tent to send the sheriff the infamous Dixon glare. He was met a soft, kind face, and a hesitant smile. "Well hello there."

Daryl considered physically throwing the man out of his camp. Yelling at him for all to hear that ain't nobody welcome over by his stuff unless he invites them and ain't none of them ever invited. But as Rick pushed the plate of food at him, his stomach betrayed him as it rumbled at the smell of something edible that wasn't tree bark or berries. Rick smiled knowingly, walking over to sit on an overturned log, taking the food with him.

"Fine," Daryl relented, slowly climbing out of his tent, putting his boots on and zipping the tent back up to prevent any bugs from getting in. Sitting across from the sheriff after taking the offered plate of food, he ate silently, praying for the man to get the hint and leave him the hell alone.

"So did you find anything today? With Sophia I mean…" Rick asked, before shoveling a forkful of food in his mouth.

Daryl just shook his head as a response, but decided to add, "Still goin' out tomorrow though. Ain't givin' up."

Rick smiled at him. "Naw, none of us are giving up, but you're the most dedicated I'd say. Would you like some company tomorrow?"

Company? Daryl froze, trying to assess the officer's motive behind the offer. Eyeing him warily, he answered, "Nah, better on my own. Faster."

Rick nodded but looked slightly disappointed. "You know, it's safer to go in pairs."

Daryl shook his head. "Not when the other half is loud as a fucking ox in the brush crashing into everything. Scare away the game and call the walkers. Might even scare away Sophia. She'd think you's a walker."

Slightly taken aback, Rick gawked at the man. Daryl just continued to eat, staring down into the dirt, wishing he had started a fire now just for something to stare at. "I… I think that's the most you've said to me since Merle…"

Daryl scoffed. Putting his finished plate down next to him on the stump, he just shrugged. "Ain't got much to say. Ain't chatty Cathy like the rest of y'all. 'S not like we have anything in common anyways."

Rick shrugged back at him, putting his own plate down next to him. "We might. You never know until you try. You know, I used to hunt and fish, back before Carl was born. I was never very good at it though. Definitely nowhere near your level. It was a fun sport though. I enjoyed it."

Daryl glared up at him through his slitted eyes. "Ain't no sport. It's how I eat. Always has been ever since I was big enough to hold a weapon. Think we got anything else in common there, Sheriff?" he asked, biting out the last word.

Rick shifted on his log, clearly uncomfortable by the turn in conversation. "Shit, Daryl, you know I didn't mean anything by that. I'm sorry that you took offense. I'm just trying to make conversation. I want you to feel like part of the group. I want you to feel valued."

Daryl just shrugged back. "I think you'd spend your time better handling Shane than me. Met him in the woods today beating the shit out of a tree."

The look on Rick's face was worth the anger he knew Shane was going to throw at him later. "The hell?" he asked. "Why was he doing that?"

Daryl just shrugged, now seriously contemplating that fire. Though now he kinda did want to wander over to join the others, just to see how the threesome acted around each other.

"I'll deal with him."

Daryl nodded.

"Why don't we go join the other camp now? Return these plates and sit by the campfire?" Rick asked, standing up and collecting Daryl's plate before asking. He extended a hand out, expecting the younger man to take it.

With a grunt of recognition, he took the offered hand, allowing Rick to pull him up to stand. In truth, Daryl was just wanting to watch the drama. He wanted to ignore everything that Rick had been saying to him about being a valued member of the group. The only value he brought to them was food. If it weren't for him, they'd starve. That was what he reasoned. It was the only thing that kept Rick even talking to him or trying to keep him in the group. What other reason would there be?

With a simple nod to Rick he signaled that he would follow, but Rick held his hand out in front of him. As Daryl walked past, he felt the warmth of Rick's hand graze over his lower back. A slight look back and he caught sight of the other man's small smile as he dropped his hand down by his side, slipping the hand not holding the plates into the pocket of his pants.

"Is there anything we can do to make you more comfortable around us, Daryl?" he asked quietly on their way back over.

Daryl just shrugged, "I'm fine."

Rick stopped, bringing the other to a stop as well. Here Daryl expected the fatherly talk about how he should treat other people as he wished to be treated and other nonsense his

teachers told him growing up until he dropped out of school. Instead, Rick just nodded.

"Yeah, I guess you are. Maybe what I meant to say was how can we rebuild your trust? I know after Merle... we didn't intend for that outcome."

Daryl waved him off and started walking again. "Merle's a tough bastard. He's all right. I'm all right. Trust y'all enough not to stab me in the middle of the night."

They stopped talking as they strode into camp, approaching the fire. Surprised looks met them, glancing from Daryl to Rick. The incredulous and almost angry look on Lori's face though made Daryl feel a little smug. Truth be told, he liked that he still made some people cringe. He was still considering heading off on his own to look for his brother, though who the hell knows where he had ended up, but he knew he still had his edge when people who somewhat knew him looked at him in horror.

Daryl sat in the dirt a few feet away from the fire, across from Shane. The blaze licked at his face from his line of vision, framing the already dark features in the shadows. Daryl felt the gaze bore into him as Rick sat himself down next to him. Everyone else cautiously avoided the man with the exception of Carol and Carl. Carl was already sent to bed, leaving the spot next to Lori vacant. Her eyes cast nervous glances between Rick and Shane, only occasionally landing on Daryl as if she was still confused by his presence.

The jealousy hung thick in the air, seeping its way through the embers. Silently, Daryl side-eyed everyone else in the group. No one seemed to notice the pure hatred and envy oozing from the man across the fire. Or if they did, they had learned the survival instinct of not poking the beast. Scooting half an inch closer to Rick, Daryl tipped his chin at Shane, watching the flames dance in the black irises of his eyes. Glancing over at Lori, he noticed her eyes watching him, that deer in headlights look continually present on her face that he so hated.

Almost on cue, Rick leaned in close to him, whispering something that he didn't even hear but a grunted response was accepted as an answer. Bright blue eyes never lost contact with the browns that watched every move he made as he leaned in, feigning interest. A simple smirk and Daryl turned to Rick, whispering back to him, "Shane's about to go off his gourd."

Rick looked over at him. The man was in a half standing position, body taut and poised to pounce, hands clenched into tight fists. His eyes though... Rick recognized murderous rage when he saw it.

"Shane? Think we can talk for a minute?" Rick asked.