Daryl had been as relaxed as he could be, given the situation. Daisy sat by his feet all curled up and nestled into his knee, and he felt extremely guilty given the way he had to treat her. He tried to tell himself it had to be this way, but still, self-loathing filled his gut each time he did something cruel just for show. Daisy, at least, seemed to understand and she didn't seem to hold it against him. But now and then, he saw a look in her eyes and he knew the cowering and fearful looks weren't purely for show. It made him sick. This was the way her father used to treat her, and Daryl had sworn to her years ago he would never act that way. But it was crucial for their survival, he reminded himself over and over again. It didn't help. He had been absent-mindedly stroking Daisy's hair when he heard the first scream, which immediately put him into action stance. He pulled a knife from his belt and jumped to his feet. When the Claimer, Lenny, came running up with a couple walkers following him, Daisy let out a whimper of terror.

"Git behind me girl," Daryl ordered her gruffly. He stepped in front of her, knife raised and ready. The four other claimers set themselves loose on two of the walkers and Lenny fell to the forest floor with blood leaking from a shoulder wound. A bite wound, to be precise.

"Who in the hell forgot to put up the barbed wire?" Joe roared from his safe position by the fire. Sure enough, the wire that usually protected the camp was still coiled up by the pile of rucksacks. It was too late now anyway, as the third walker advanced on Daryl.

"Son of a bitch," he growled as he swung his knife towards it. He missed, instead colliding with its upper arm. His knife sunk into the rotten flesh easily and hit bone, meaning it took a second to pull it out. In that second the slobbering thing had reached around him, clawing at Daisy, who let out a strangled scream. She fell over backwards and thrashed for a moment before stumbling to her feet and running. "Daisy!" Daryl shouted after her, but it was too late; she was already legging it away from the frenzied campsite. The useless Claimers took a minute to subdue the two walkers, and by the time Daryl had shoved his knife into the eye socket of the bag of flesh accosting him, they were still struggling.

"Hurry up, you idiots," Joe growled, even though he hadn't lifted a finger himself. "And Daryl, get along after your lil' friend. We got this."

Daryl jogged along through the forest, pitch black except for what little moonlight drifted in through the canopy. "Daisy!" he yelled. "They're dead, y'can come out now girl." No voice answered him, and the lack of light made it hard to track her frantic footsteps through the trees. But he somehow managed to follow them far enough to spot her leaning over a stump and panting. Her breathing was so loud that she didn't hear him approaching. He slowed to a walk and came up behind her, putting a hand on her shoulder. She jumped around with a yelp and jerked away as if she was going to start running again. "Hey, it's me. C'mon," Daryl grabbed the collar of her shirt and pulled her back.

"I don't wanna go back there, them things are everywhere," Daisy panted and shook off his hand. She wiped a hand across her nose, sniffing at the tears she barely held in, and took a few steps towards the dark abyss of the forest.

"Hey!" Daryl barked with frustration. He easily snatched her sleeve and pulled her back to face him, fist clenched firmly in the fabric of her shirt. "Don't you ever run from me, ya hear girl?" he growled unthinkingly, too close to her face with eyes dark and glaring. She shrunk under his glare and nodded.

"Sorry," she whispered timidly. She didn't even try to yank her hand away, even though adrenaline still coursed rapidly through her veins. Daryl softened a little.

"Daisy, you know I'd never let them things get ya," he muttered and released his grip, wishing he hadn't snapped at her. She nodded again but refused to meet his eyes. "C'mon, let's head back." He stalked quietly through the forest, his knife held ready, and Daisy tip-toed close behind him. The glow of the campfire guided them back to where the group were still pulling the rotten corpses aside, a sight that made Daisy hold a hand to her mouth and reach for the back of Daryl's sleeve.

"Looks like the little bitch didn't get too far then," Joe smirked as they approached. Daryl grunted and sat next to the fire on a log, reaching out to warm his hands. Daisy sat beside him, pressed up real close and trembling just a little. "Well?" Joe said expectantly, looking at Daryl's blank expression with raised eyebrows. "Ain't you gonna reprimand your claim?"

"For what," Daryl growled uneasily. He leant a little closer to Daisy, assuring their solidarity.

"For runnin'" Joe said slowly. "Ain't very team spirited of her," he sneered.

"She just got scared. I ain't gonna do shit," Daryl snapped back and wrapped a protective arm around Daisy's shoulders. "And don't none of ya think about touchin' her, neither." Daisy hid her face in his side as Joe strode closer.

"If I was you, I'd teach her a lesson now before she gets to thinkin' you never will," he growled.

"You're not me, and she's not your problem. Leave it be," Daryl growled back equally aggressively. Joe shrugged and seemed to leave it at that. He strode over to where Lenny was laid out, still hanging on to a thread of life. Daryl gripped the shivering girl at his side tighter and sighed. "Don't look," he whispered into her hair as the dying man was relieved of his struggle with a knife to the back of his skull. Daisy's eyes were squeezed firmly shut anyway, which had the added benefit of keeping stray tears in.

An hour or so passed in silence, the banter forgotten and the mood much oppressed since the attack. Eventually, the three remaining Claimers began to pull their bedrolls out while Joe sat awake on watch. The barbed wire was now encircling the camp, so Daryl stood up and grunted at Daisy to follow him to a flat area just beyond the fire. It was within the protecting wire but a good distance from the prying eyes of the other men.

"You get some sleep, Daise," Daryl gestured to his small sleeping bag. "I'll stay up an' watch 'em, we'll swap later," he added, practically reading her mind and knowing she wouldn't be comfortable with both of them asleep.

"I…I don't wanna sleep," Daisy said quietly. "You should rest first."

"C'mon girl, you're about to collapse," Daryl chided her. She was looking awfully wobbly on her feet and a yawn escaped her mouth before she could protest.

"M'kay," she shrugged, settling into the sparse bedroll. Daryl sat next to her, leant against a tree. He smiled reassuringly as she glanced at him nervously. "Don't doze off, please?"

"I won't," he nodded. Daisy rolled over and rested her head on her arm like a pillow. The night air was chilly and Daryl was glad of his thick clothing. Noises filled the air, normal forest noises like owls and small critters going about their business. A low rumble of quiet conversation drifted across from the Claimers, but even that died down along with the fire as time passed. It was an hour later when something, probably a deer, wandered loudly through the undergrowth in the distance. Daisy jumped up with her muscles tensed and ready to run. "Daisy, what're you still doing up?" Daryl hissed. "Go to sleep."

"I heard something," she insisted, eyes fixed on the distant noise.

"It's a deer, or a pig. Nothin' to worry about," Daryl grunted. He took her shoulder and pushed her back down. "Now get to sleep," he reprimanded her gruffly. She huffed indignantly but settled back down. Ten minutes passed and Daryl was sure she was sleeping. He rubbed his eyes tiredly, but decided to give her a few more hours until they swapped and he could grab whatever sleep he could get. Five minutes of crickets chirping softly, and the deer (or pig) walking closer. He knew it wasn't a walker; it was too small and walked precisely and quickly. But Daisy, not an adept hunter, didn't know that and she sat back up with a whine of fear. "Daisy," Daryl growled.

"I'm sorry! I can't sleep," she hissed. Daryl exhaled with a groan.

"C'mon, just try," he coaxed her back down. She was still tense as anything, each muscle taut under his gentle hand. The tattered flannel shirt was ripped across the shoulder and he frowned at the lines of scars there.

"Tell me a story?" she asked shyly, not bothering to shake his hand off her shoulder. Daryl traced his fingers across the scars and cleared his throat. The request was so childlike it seemed out of place in these harsh circumstances, with evidence of fear and violence just under his fingertips. He had to remind himself that she wasn't that much younger than him, that she wasn't the same fragile little kid he used to know. But perhaps there were still parts of that little kid hiding behind her trick façade.

"M'kay," Daryl grunted as he searched his memory for anything resembling a fairy tale or fable. The fact that he couldn't think of a single one was reflective of his upbringing. He settled for a more personal anecdote. "Do you remember that time we stole yer dad's whiskey? An' we took it down to the creek? You were smashed after two sips," Daryl began. Daisy chuckled sleepily. "Well anyway, then we noticed it getting' dark an' had to find our way back. Only problem was, we couldn't walk straight. There was like, what, ten shots left in that bottle? We were a couple of lightweights," Daryl continued. Daisy's breathing fell into an even pattern as his voiced rumbled on quietly and his fingers brushed over her shoulder. When Daryl had finished talking, she was genuinely asleep. He kept his hand resting on her arm, her warm skin a solid, indisputable reminder that she was here, alive and well. She slept fitfully, jerking around and mumbling incoherently. Whatever dream she was having couldn't be pleasant but Daryl didn't have the heart to wake her. Instead he sat alone with his thoughts as night wore on and the moon drifted across the cobalt sky. He thought about the prison, and the home he had had there. The family. It hit him in the guts to remember how foolishly, how naively, he had thought it could last. All that they lost, all that was taken from him, had ripped out one last little glimmer of hope he stored away. It was all gone, especially after what happened with Beth. Beth. What had she done, to deserve ending up with him? If she had been with Rick, or Michonne, maybe she would have been okay. He tried to tell himself that it wasn't his fault, none of it was his fault, but his mind kept circling back to blaming himself. Hating himself. That glimmer of hope had sparked up again when he found Daisy, but it was a small and a frightened hope, as if it were braced again for the devastation of losing someone. And Daryl knew as he looked down at the tiny form curled up by his side that above all else, he had to keep her safe. He just had to.

A few hours after falling asleep Daisy woke from a bad dream with a start. She whipped around with wide eyes searching for danger.

"Whoa, easy," Daryl quieted her. She jumped at the sound of his rough, sleepy voice. "Shh, shh" Daryl murmered quietly. "S'okay."

"How long have I been asleep?" Daisy whispered.

"Couple hours. You were out like a light."

"Dipshit. Should'a woken me," Daisy sighed.

"Nah, ya needed it," Daryl replied. "I could use some shut-eye though, if ya wouldn't mind stayin' up." Daisy nodded eagerly and exited the sleeping bag, tossing it to him. He settled into the tiny damn thing as best he could. Daisy pulled herself up against the tree and looked around the forest with a sigh. Daryl knew she'd stay awake and keep a close eye on those assholes, so he fell asleep feeling safer than he had in weeks. He dozed off slowly, noting with a smile that Daisy shifted closer to rest her legs against his back. He didn't mind the incursion and didn't push her away, instead finding the passive presence of a companion strangely calming. He slept on and off for a while, until he became aware of an annoying poking sensation on his ribs. He groaned and shoved it away but it came back, tapping his side urgently. "Go 'way," he mumbled sleepily.

"Daryl." Daisy's voiced was desperate. "Daryl!"

"What?" the perturbed hunter hissed, blinking sleepily as his eyes adjusted to the dim light of sunrise. "Wha's wrong?"

"I need to,uh, go pee," Daisy hissed bashfully. Daryl stared at her is disbelief.

"G'on then, there's bushes or some shit over there," he pointed drowsily at nowhere in particular before rolling over to bury his face under the polyester blanket.

"Can't you come with me?" Daisy whined.

"What for?" Daryl grumbled.

"In case there's fuckin' dead people walkin' around!" Daisy whisper-yelled indignantly. Daryl sighed and sat up.

"Fine, I'm comin'," he griped, grabbing some assorted weapons. "Too fuckin' early for this."

They ducked under the wire surrounding the camp and walked through the awakening forest. Birds had begun their daily chorus and a herd of deer wandered by tranquilly. It was quite picturesque, really, it was a shame that Daisy was practically jogging to find somewhere secluded. She ducked behind a thick bush and Daryl fiddled with his crossbow as he waited. The adjustment was slightly off so he spent a moment realigning it, holding the sights to his eyes to test it. Daisy appeared in those sights holding up a rude gesture.

"You gonna shoot me for waking you up, Dixon?" she laughed. Daryl let a hint of a smile cross his face as her melodic giggle eased the fog surrounding his heart.

"You still wanna go for that walk? Could scare up some breakfast," Daryl offered, pointing to a trail with his crossbow. Daisy nodded and they set off towards to rising sun, its sharp rays now visible in the crisp, clear sky. The walked in silence for a while, Daryl occasionally taking shots at passing critters. He bagged two squirrels and a skinny runt of a rabbit, which he grunted at in disgust while shoving it into his bag. After a while, Daisy had had enough of taking in the woodland scenery and all the sights and sounds of the forest. She skipped ahead to climb up a mossy log that was leaning against a tree. "Careful," Daryl warned her as the moss fell away under her boots.

"Yes, ma." Daisy screwed up her nose at him. She jumped down and fell into step beside him. "So whatever happened to that dickhead of a brother you had?"

Daryl felt the all-to-familiar pang in his gut when someone he'd lost was mentioned. "He uh, he died a while back."

"Oh. Shit, sorry," Daisy sighed. "You two were close, huh?"

Daryl shrugged. "Close enough, I guess. You remember how he was, though. Not the easiest guy to get along with."

"You can say that again," Daisy snorted. "Still. I'm sorry." She bumped his elbow with her own.

"How 'bout you? Where were you when this started?" Daryl asked, partly to change the subject but also because he was curious as to what had happened during the interlude of their friendship.

"I…was at collage," Daisy admitted. "Never too late to learn, and all that." She glanced nervously at Daryl, almost as if the older guy would scoff at her ostentatious life choices. He just smirked.

"Lookit you, Ms Fancy Education. What, our trailer park tutor wasn't good enough for you?" Daryl teased. She blushed at his teasing but chuckled, fondly remembering the dumpy old lady who had tried desperately to form some semblance of an educational institute in their backwater, hillbilly, meth-lab of a park. "You meet some good people?" Daryl asked more seriously.

"Yeah, a few. Lost track of them during the outbreak, though. But before that, I…I was with someone," Daisy stuttered. Daryl cocked his head, inviting her to continue, but she paused her talking and looked down at their boots clumping through the dead leaves that littered the floor.

"C'mon, spit it out," Daryl said.

"I uh, I was with this…girl," Daisy stammered. "She was my girlfriend, I guess." She looked nervously at the redneck, glancing away when he met her eyes. They had never talked about acceptance of…"alternative" lifestyles before, but she knew his family had been conservative. And religious. Her heart hammered faster and she wished she could take back her admission.

Daryl smiled encouragingly, waiting for her to continue, but Daisy just chewed her lip and looked nervously away. "You think I'm gonna judge ya?" Daryl asked quietly. Daisy shrugged.

"No, I just…don't know if you're cool with it," she said shyly. Daryl snorted, immediately dismissing her fears.

"What, you didn't think I know?" Daryl smirked. "C'mon girl, your first crush was on that weed dealer's daughter that used to visit every summer. And you carried around a picture of that dumb actress for years."

Daisy looked at him in astonishment. "I wasn't that obvious, surely," she stuttered.

Daryl grinned. "Nah, not really, but I still knew." He looked away and rubbed his head. "And I figured, y'know, you wouldn't want much to do with…guys. In general."

Daisy shrugged. "It's not that I don't like guys, it's just that…she was so quiet. And sweet."

"Kinda what I meant," Daryl shrugged. Daisy's face took on a whimsical look of joy. This girl must be something special. "Tell me about her," he pressed, wanting to keep that look on her face.

"Her name was Tara. She was really just the best," Daisy sighed happily. "We used to skip class together and walk by the river and feed ducks. And then stay up all night studying coz, well, we skipped class all the time," Daisy laughed. Her nostalgic stories made both of them smile, and the mood seemed fitting for the ambience of the forest. The morning sun broke through the canopy and lit their way with rays, making the dull bark of the trees seem brighter and the eerie darkness of the distance fill with light. They had walked a full loop around the camp and were fast approaching it, but Daryl slowed the pace to a casual amble, his crossbow now dangling forgotten across his back. He wanted to stay this way, with Daisy contagiously happy and chattering beside him, for as absolutely long as possible.