Chapter Four. Old Fogies

Hayden excused herself from the rest of the group and walked out into the patio. She had instantly felt welcomed, and she was glad Daryl had been spending most of the outbreak with those people.

Lori Grimes, Rick's wife, seemed a bit haunted, but she was friendly and helped Hayden settle in. Carl, the little boy Hayden saw earlier, was cheerful despite the circumstances ("I even got shot, just like my Dad," he had proudly declared over dinner). Dale, a chubby man who reminded Hayden of Santa Claus, didn't talk much. Shane and Andrea seemed off in their own worlds, although Hayden caught Shane stealing a glance or two at Lori.

Glenn and T-Dog joined the group just as Hayden finished; she made it a point to give T-Dog a small smile as they passed each other in the hallway.

Merle, Rick, Daryl, and Carol were the only ones missing from dinner, and Hayden hoped Merle and Rick weren't having a verbal smackdown somewhere.

Hayden saw Hershel Greene, the old owner of the farmhouse, sitting on the patio swing, smoke curling from his lips. He turned and saw her, and Hayden saw a hint of sadness in the man's eyes.

Hayden knew why: his wife and stepson were one of the walkers that were killed earlier that day, along with Carol's daughter, Sophia. Lori had told her the story, and Hayden's heart had gone out to both Carol and Hershel. Although she didn't see a loved one die in front of her eyes – there was still a chance, however slim, that Nathan was still alive – she could imagine the pain they were both going through.

"Hey Hershel," she greeted. "May I join you?"

Hershel nodded, taking a luxurious puff of his cigarette. "I hardly ever smoke. My kids hate it when I do," he said as she sat beside him on the swing, the boards creaking slightly under her weight. "I used to be an alcoholic, you know."

"So was my dad," Hayden said a matter-of-factly. Hayden didn't understand why she was thinking of her dad now, and she pushed any further thoughts of him from her mind. "He drank beer like it was water."

"He didn't beat you though, did he?" Hershel asked as Hayden reached for the cigarette.

Hayden didn't say anything and took a long drag of the cigarette, slowly releasing the smoke into the air.

"My God he did," Hershel murmured. "I'm sorry, Hayden."

"No biggie. He was an asshole," Hayden replied, handing the cigarette back to Hershel, who promptly extinguished it on the ashtray beside him.

"No wonder you're close to your brothers." At this point Hershel fell silent. Hayden didn't know what else to say, so she looked at the field and the dark sky before them.

Hayden closed her eyes, the distinct smell and taste of the cigarette smoke still lingering in her mouth. She wanted to cry, mourn the loss of her fiancé, but a part of her kept up the hope that he was still alive.

She remembered how eager he was to meet her brothers, how he didn't shy away from her after she told him the truth: that her two older brothers did drugs and had spent time in jail.

"They protected you from your dad, Hayden," he had said after she had told him. "It's obvious that despite their faults, they love you very much. And that's more than enough for me."

How she wished Nathan were here with her. But she was with her older brothers – both of them – and for now that would just have to do.

"So you lost your fiancé," Hershel finally said. His voice sliced through the still night air, startling her. Hayden jumped slightly, but recovered quickly.

"Yeah, we got separated. "I just hope he's alive."

"Well hold on to that hope, because in this world, it's all you have." Hershel threw her a smile which she returned.

"Don't you have any plans of leaving this place? It only holds painful memories for you," Hayden said.

Hershel nodded. "But this is the only place me and my daughters know. Once we leave, we won't fit in anywhere. I'd rather stay here where things are...familiar."

Hayden said nothing. She knew that if Hershel and his daughters stayed, they'd die sooner or later. But after what Hershel had witnessed earlier, it seemed as if the old man's spirit was broken. The only thing keeping him alive were his two remaining children, and Hayden knew that if they died, Hershel would quickly plant a bullet in his brain.

Hayden felt the same for her brothers. She had already lost Nathan, and she knew she wouldn't be able to bear it if Merle or Daryl died. They were all she had left in this world, the only things anchoring her to her sanity.

"Hay, what are you doing out here?"

Daryl's voice broke through her thoughts, and Hayden looked up to see Daryl standing near the foot of the patio steps. He shifted slightly, and Hayden made out Carol's slim form behind him.

"Nothing, just taking in some night air and a smoke," Hayden told him.

Daryl smiled at this. "I thought you swore off smoking."

"I needed something to keep my mind off everything," Hayden replied defensively. "Hi Carol."

Carol stepped into view, her eyes surprisingly clear; Hayden expected it to bear the telltale signs of crying. The older woman had lost her only daughter today, after all.

"Hi Hayden," Carol greeted hoarsely. The two women exchanged a brief yet comforting glance, and Carol walked onto the patio and into the house. Hayden heard Lori greet Carol and offer to set her a place at the dining table.

Hayden met Daryl's eyes, and she smiled.

"What?" Daryl asked. He knew his sister was reading his concern for Carol like an open book, and it made him uncomfortable. He was normally very good at masking his emotions, but Hayden also had the ability to sense when something was up with her older brothers.

"Nothing," she said, although she threw him a significant look. Daryl sighed and tried changing the subject.

"Have you seen Merle?"

Hayden shook her head, her expression quickly changing into one of worry. "I thought he was with you."

"Well I tried looking for him, but... other matters came up," Daryl said lamely.

Hayden nodded. "I hope he comes back soon. I don't like the idea of him being alone out there."

"I'll go look for him if you want," he offered.

"No, he's probably blowing off some steam. He didn't really want to see the rest of them," Hayden said in a hushed tone. "I just forced him to."

"Why?"

"Because of you."

Daryl didn't know what to say to this, so he remained silent. The two siblings were suddenly startled by Hershel, who gave a slight cough. They had forgotten that he was there, and Daryl scratched the back of his neck uncomfortably.

"I hate it when you do that," Hayden suddenly piped up.

"Do what?"

"Scratch the back of your head. You look like a monkey," Hayden said, grinning.

"Oh yeah? Well I hate how you... how you..." For once, Daryl couldn't think of what he hated most about his sister.

Hayden raised both her eyebrows, waiting for a response.

"...how you keep sticking to me and Merle even though we're a pair of lowlife scumbags," Daryl finished.

Hayden rolled her eyes. "I stay with you two lovable guys because you're my brothers. And you're not scumbags. I'll kick the ass of anyone who dares call you and Merle scumbags."

Daryl chuckled. He missed their banter. Ever since Hayden had ran away from home, he had seen less and less of her. She drove back home a year after she had left, but she didn't bother seeing their dad. Merle had just gotten out of jail, and she brought them to their favourite diner.

It was the last time the three of them had sat down to a proper meal without their dad screaming obscenities at them. Even now, Daryl could smell the hotdogs frying on the grill and the flapjacks that Merle had ordered along with his beer.

Those times were long gone, but Daryl knew that they still had a chance to bring their family back together.

If Merle didn't mess things up, that is.


Author's Note: I'd love to hear some feedback/questions from you guys. Right now I don't know where to bring this one (although the idea of bringing the survivors to a civilian encampment where the Dixon siblings can finally settle down as a family is persistent), but still, I'd love to hear from fellow fans of the Dixon brothers. :)