A/N: Soooo here's the scoop. I just got my job, and I already have another job possibly starting tomorrow. So...I've been pretty busy. I decided, however, to get this chapter up as soon as possible for you guys, because the next chapter may not be up until Monday or Tuesday...or somewhere in there.

In return, this chapter is a bit shorter. I didn't see the point in dragging it out, when I found the perfect place to close it. So, enjoy. It's lots of feels! I was getting the feels just writing it. If you have something you just hate about it, let me know! I take the bad and the good with a grain of salt, but I appreciate every single review and PM.

Enjoy!

Chapter 2:

After the fight with my father, about my relationship with Daryl, things got quiet around my house. Daryl came to work, did his job, drank his tea and snuck kisses under the shade tree. Other than that, though, he was pretty quiet. I didn't ask about the bruises that adorned his body for a week or so after that night. I figured it was none of my business.

He seemed stiff, but soon was back to himself. What bothered me about them, was the fact that I had caused them, in some way. I figured he had gotten into a heated fight with Merle, and things had escalated. Two Dixons throwing haymakers at each other could get ugly.

My parents prepared for their yearly vacation to Mississippi, to the old timer's gambling capital, Tunica. It was their anniversary, and if I was into all that stuff (like marriage), I would definitely understand their motives for leaving me on the gigantic farm to fend for myself. My mother stockpiled the kitchen with so much food that it overflowed into the laundry room, food stacked along the folding racks and shelves, and in the deep freeze that was usually reserved for deer meat and whatever wild game my father brought home.

While I chose not to speak to my father during that time, he sent my mom to do the dirty work. She laid down the ground rules, leaving Daryl out of them until the very end. It was the basics.

No parties – Like that would be an issue. I had to be one of the most antisocial rich kids in the entire universe.

No beer – Yeah right. I basically had a package store across the woods from me, and a delivery service in my bed. Booze were in.

Take care of the horses, and no going into Atlanta – Check.

Then, came the conversation I had dreaded.

Daryl.

She stood from the bed, her cheap heels clicking loudly against the wooden floor as she pranced in her new dress. She looked gorgeous, and for a mom…smokin' hot. Walking back to the bed, she sighed, and sat against the edge of it.

"I'm going to say this once…", she whispered, glancing down at my hands. I took a deep breath, waiting for her to lay down some sort of martial law against Daryl being anywhere near the house, or that she was giving him the week off…and giving me something to do, "Your father…does not, and will not know about these plans, but I have spoken to Merle. I have cleared the air. Those boys are good men, Merle included. He plans to apologize to you, as soon as he gets a chance."

I narrowed my eyes, and nodded, wondering what Merle's agenda had to be, in order for him to apologize so easily. Instead of questioning too much, I just listened on, intently.

"I've asked Daryl to come and stay…Now hold on…", she held up a hand at the sudden quiet gasp that left my throat, "It's to watch the house. I'm asking you, as an adult, to make the right choices, baby. You know how they can be…how…he can be. You know that once you go off…"

"Mom. We're talking about this week. I'm not thinkin' about August.", I murmured, stopping her. She gave a warm smile, even though I could tell that she wanted to press the issue of college as far as she could. With a nod, she placed a hand on my leg and squeezed.

"I fixed our room for him with fresh sheets. Just…don't be dumb…", she whispered, playing at the fact that she was a young mother. I shuddered at the thought, and nodded, watching her stand from the bed. Her body turned back to me, and she placed a hand on her hip, posing, "By the way, how do I look? Dashing?"

"You look beautiful…too beautiful. I'm almost worried about you."

"Oh shush. But really? I look good?"

"Sexy as hell, ma…", I smiled as she clicked her heels against the floor once, and exited the room.

"You got all the food you could want! Money's on the fridge! No horses in the city!", she yelled on the way down the stairs, "Shan! I mean it, now…"

"I KNOW MA!"

"Damn…what'd yer parents think you'd be doin', runnin' a soup kitchen?", Daryl asked in amazement as he scanned the fridge for something to drink. I popped open the mini fridge beside me with a small laugh, and pulled out a beer, tapping it loudly on the counter. His face reappeared from behind the refrigerator door and showed relief.

"They knew you'd be here, and Merle's supposedly in the apologetic mood…", I mumbled, opening a beer for myself. It was my first broken rule, but I'd be damned if I was going to let Daryl drink alone…in my house.

"Apologetic…pfft…", he scoffed, grabbing the beer from the counter, where he quickly slammed the lid against the corner of the marble. I winced, swallowing my mouthful of beer.

"Hey! My mom will kill me if you fuck up her counters, man!", I yelled. He smirked a bit, held up both hands, and tossed the lid in the trash, "So are you stayin' or what?"

"Yer mom said? I mean…ain't yer dad my boss?"

"Work comes second to private life and stuff. Besides, my mom's the one who writes your checks for your light bills. So, she's got just as much say.", I reasoned, raising my eyebrows. He seemed to weigh it in his mind, as he paced around the kitchen in his bare feet, another quirk that made me giggle. He absolutely REFUSED to wear his work boots in our house, unless my mom stopped him from removing them at the door. It was polite, and charming, but unnecessary.

"Yeah. I'll stay. Free food and no Merle for a week? Sounds good."

I broke a smile, and closed the distance between us. Now that we were alone, I didn't care whether he wanted me to or not. I wanted contact. I wanted him; those arms around me, and that's exactly what I got. As I stepped forward, placing a hand on each of his cheeks, his strong arms snaked around me, pulling me close in a rough, and almost painful kiss. A quick jerk, and he had lifted me onto the counter, resting his hips between my knees. I smiled, and took his bottom lip in between my teeth.

"You don't seem so reluctant to stay, now…Mr. Dixon.", I murmured. His nose wrinkled in a snarl that showed his teeth. The look wasn't dangerous, but playful, as he let a silent giggle pass through.

"Free food…", he mumbled, kissing me hard again.

I awoke with a jolt, my brain springing to life as if the world was one bad dream. My eyes shot open; air filled my lungs, easier than before, as I lay still in the bottom of a musty closet. I stared into the silent darkness, straight up toward the rack of clothing that had covered my face earlier. I was alone, and cold.

I swallowed deeply, my throat sore and dry. Instead of a successful swallow, I was gagged, coughing and sputtering against the heavy tube that rested along my trachea. I brought both hands up, with some effort, feeling around my face. It was almost covered by thick tubing and tape. As I brought my hands down, they came to rest over a heavy chain, wrapped around my neck, like some sort of animal.

I tugged at the chain, pulling it outward as tears began building in panic. As I pulled, the chain that was apparently holding my hands in place pulled as well. I whimpered, and began scratching at the tape covering my cheeks. As it tore away, the tube came with it. It seemed never ending as I pulled and pulled, gagging and coughing. Once free, I tossed the tube aside, and began feeling along the rest of my body. First my neck, then my chest and torso, and finally my arms. Both arms were still intact, but the bandage that covered my left was hard, and was no longer painful, as if the arm was basically gone.

"Merle!", I gasped, tearing the I.V. needles from my right hand, "MERLE!"

On my deathbed one moment, and fine the next? What was happening? With a bit of stumbling, Merle rolled his way out of bed and stomped over to the closet. The light quickly bellowed in, as I covered my eyes, and squinted toward him.

"Well, well, well. I thought you were gonna sleep all month, princess!", he chimed with a wide smile. I narrowed my eyes in confusion as he made his way to me, and began fiddling with the chains.

"What happened?"

"Well…Until I figure out what to do with ya, yer stayin' here. This is yer little room. Got it?", he asked. I nodded at his dodgy answer, and continued to stare as he removed the chains from around my arms, "You been out three weeks…I'll get the…whatever you want to call him in here to check you out. You got a fever or anything?"

Three weeks? I had been asleep for three weeks? The last thing I remembered was not being able to move, or speak. The last thing I remembered was the feeling of complete helplessness, as I watched my old arch nemesis threaten to blow my brains out. But at least I wasn't a walker.

I narrowed my eyes and shook my head, swallowing, "No fever."

The whisper caused Merle to smile, his pearly white teeth almost cringe worthy as he took a seat in front of me. He reached forward, and tugged at the chain around my neck, tossing it to the side with the discarded medical equipment, "You look like shit…"

"I thought I was dead. How…how did I survive, exactly?"

"We thought you was too. Butler says you prolly either have some sort of…medical anomaly, or you wasn't bit in the first place.", Merle explained. He glanced at my arm, before pointing to it, "I wanted to take it off. Lucky I didn't, eh?"

Nodding, I swallowed again, and wiggled the fingers on my left hand, thankful it was still there. My stomach rumbled, sore and tired. I shifted my gaze to the tubes lying on the ground. Neither of them seemed to be leaking any sort of food. I clenched my stomach and turned back to Merle, "How have you been feeding me?"

"I dunno. He comes in and does his thing. I clean you up before bed…pretty simple really."

"You've been taking care of me?", I asked, a small smirk almost playing at my lips. He raised his chin, eyes narrowed and glancing down at me in his defensive mode. Instead of pressing on, I nodded my head, and looked down at the blood that dripped from the top of my hand, onto the wooden floor, "Thank you."

"Yer welcome, princess…", he murmured, moving his head around to find my eyes. I shifted them to meet his, and returned his soft smile, "I'm gonna go find Butler. 'kay?"

I nodded, but didn't move. As he stood, I crossed my arms across my chest, "I'm a little hungry…"

"I'll grab you a sandwhich…", he mumbled, stepping out of the room.

"And Daryl? Where's Daryl?"

"He didn't show. Never came…", he said sadly, "Yer safe here. Relax…I'll find 'im."

Once again the tears began building behind my eyelids, slowly spilling over as I nodded, and stared down at my lap. Daryl hadn't showed. Something had happened on the farm…and Daryl hadn't showed. For the first time in weeks, I let out a soft sob in the dim light, bringing my hands up to cover my face as I broke down. How could I be happy to be alive…after losing everything I had to live for?

The first week without Shan was the hardest. Daryl didn't eat. He didn't sleep. He was ill, and for the first time in his life, he literally didn't move from his 'bed'. After the first week, things got easier. Life had to go on, and the group needed him. They needed to eat, and he was the one to take care of the hunting.

He had gone out with Rick, every single night, since she went missing. They had searched for her – or at least what she had become. Even though she couldn't have gone far, it seemed that she wasn't in the woods at all. It seemed she had somehow gotten out. It was the last day of the third week when Rick called off the search.

He sighed, placing his gun into its holster as they both kneeled over a pair of old tracks. It was over. There was no need to go forward, and spin in circles again. He glanced to Daryl, his hand coming to rest on his shoulder for a moment, before dropping to his own side.

"She's not here…"

"But…she…", Daryl began complaining. Rick simply shook his head sadly.

"No, Daryl. She's not. She's somewhere else…She left."

"She's dead! If we don't find 'er…what would you do, man?!", Daryl almost yelled, his explosive anger beginning to flow through him. Rick gritted his own teeth, and stepped closer.

"I'd do exactly what I'm doing! I'm callin' this off…It's my call. I meant what I said that first night. Shit don't work anymore…the way it did before. Shane was right…This isn't a democracy anymore. I gave you the option to stay or to go. You chose to stay. I told you I'd help you find her. She's gone! What do you want me to do? I'm saying my apologies. I'm standing here in front of you, as a friend…telling you…she's either dead and gone, or she left.", Rick snapped back. Daryl was a bit shocked, as he stared into Rick's eyes, between them, and finally bit his lip in surrender.

"You think she's alive?"

"I think she stood up, and she walked out of that room…one way or another.", Rick whispered, "We'll find her…but she's not here."

Daryl sighed, looking around the yard as he slung his crossbow onto his back, and stepped away from Rick.

"I always thought this was stupid…like in the movies and stuff, but I…I just wanted to say somethin' to ya. Yer not here, and…well…", Daryl whispered, staring at the beaten up wooden cross in front of him. He had positioned it perfectly in front of the old tractor, a pleasant memory that he figured Shan would appreciate, was she alive. He swallowed at the lump in his throat, falling back on his ass, his legs coming up to rest against his chest as he took a deep breath, "If yer alive…Just come home. Just…just be okay. I'm here. I ain't goin' nowhere. We got maps made up. If we have to leave…you'll know where to go."

As he spoke, the lump grew more painful. He reached down, picking a handful of grass to play with as he bit his lip, "When yer dad was against everything…I took a lot of it for granted. I-I wasn't there. I didn't bother with ya…used ya…I don't know what you'd wanna hear, but…I'm…"

He gritted his teeth, frowning as he looked down at his hands and gasped, tears slowly forming, "I'm sorry. Really, I am…I don't know if I can do this…"

Daryl didn't even flinch as a soft hand came to rest on his shoulder, gripping it tightly. With a sniffle, the body came to rest beside his, also pulling her legs up to her chest.

"She's a better listener than me…", Lori joked, placing a hand on his forearm, her thumb rubbing small lines across it. Daryl turned his face downward, trying to hide the fact that he was crying. Instead of buying into it, Lori smiled softly, and ran her hand under his eyes, wiping dirt and sweat along with the tears away, "And you can do this…You're Daryl…Dixon…"

The way she said his name, like some sort of super hero, almost made him smirk. She wiped under his eyes again, whisking the tears away before they had a chance to fall, and rested her cheek on his shoulder.

"Why you takin' care of me, anyway?", Daryl asked, his voice tired and sad.

"I wanna?..and if I don't…I think you'd kill yourself, one way or another. Do you even remember the last time you ate, Daryl?"

Daryl narrowed his eyes, looking away from her to ponder the question. His eyes shifted down to his knees, and he shook his head.

"Two days…", Lori whispered, pushing his bangs to the side softly, "That's why I'm doin' this. Rick sent me…and until we find her, I'm here. Alright?"

Daryl nodded slowly, staring forward at Shan's cross. Lori, too, changed her gaze to the old wood. As they stared, Daryl cleared his throat, sniffled, and decided to talk.

"She always wanted all that stuff…a farm of her own, marriage…kids…", Daryl whispered, "I mean it wasn't like it was gonna happen in a day. She was just a kid…but…I didn't take her seriously. The age and all that…"

Lori nodded, watching his face, as he continued.

"It was so physical. I never once thought she meant with me…", he said sadly. Lori's face contorted into complete pity as she watched, wiping her own eyes, "That kinda thing's never been an option for me and Merle…"

"But you wanted it…", she murmured. Daryl shrugged, shifting his gaze to the ground as he too sniffled.

"I dunno. Kids ain't never been something I enjoyed. Before Sophia…", he broke off, finding that gnawing pain in his chest, again, "I just ain't never felt this terrible…to be honest."

"You miss her. She kept you grounded, whether you want to admit it or not. Don't forget…I knew you before she found you. You were mad…bitter…Now, I like now.", Lori mused, squeezing his arm softly.

"I miss her…Rick thinks she's alive…and she's out there alone…", Daryl admitted, staring at the cross as his eyes spilled over. He didn't have to say another word, as the pain in his chest became overwhelming, and Lori read his facial expressions. It wasn't his thing, all this crying crap, but dammit…

He had lost everything, all in one night. One damn gunshot…

Lori's hand came up through his hair, tangling in the messy mane, as she pulled his head down to meet her shoulder. There they sat for a time, Daryl releasing what felt like a lifetime of guilt, torment, and pain. She didn't judge. She didn't say a word, and for the first time in ages, Daryl Dixon fell to pieces.