Chapter 4

A couple of hours later they had broken down into smaller groups. Carol, Sophie, Lori, Carl, and Rick. Glenn, Maggie, Hershel, and to their surprise, Shane-who was slightly more pleasant than usual in his inebriated state. This was ideal, as long as no one pissed him off this was fantastic. T-Dog and Dale. Andrea and Amy. And Rose and Daryl.

Rose was a giggly, airy drunk, and it didn't take much to get her there. She relished the feeling of being able to let her guard down and her heavy thoughts go. That alone was enough to make her feel dizzy.

Daryl found himself letting his own guard down, if only a bit, under the influence of the alcohol and Rose's pleasant, bright demeanor. He found her innocent, refreshing, and joyful.

Unsure when it happened, they were sitting Indian style with their knees touching.

They talked about random things. Life before the dead refused to stay dead. Mostly happy things, better times. Who they were before everyone was broken. But…weren't we all a little broken to begin with?

"I miss music so much", she said sadly. "But I can still hear it in my head". She stood up on her knees and swayed back and forth dreamily. Daryl watched her, smiling, and broke into laughter when she fell over giggling. "Too much motion for me right now, I reckon."

"You're…", he trailed off.

"I'm…?" She touched a finger to the tip of his nose. "I'm what?"

He hesitated before he replied "…drunk".

"Come now, that really wasn't what you were going to say, was it? I mean, you aren't one to bother stating the obvious." Her words were messy but competent. She cocked her head to one side and blinked at him. When he didn't respond, she ruffled his hair and took another drink.

"I…don't know what to do with you", Daryl said.

"I don't know what that means", she said and shook her head. Another drink.

She felt small drops of moisture on her skin and looked up at the sky. "Rain!" The liquid felt cool against her flushed skin.

The rain quickly picked up, soaking their hair and clothes. They sat in silence for a time, looking at each other and out into the rain.

"C'mon, Rose. Head to the tent?"

She stared at him before giggling "I can't really walk right now. Pretty sure."

Daryl chuckled and stood up, holding out two dripping hands. She took them and he pulled her up. She fumbled from the force and fell into him, then wrapped her arms tightly around him. "Sorry!", she laughed. He held her up easily. He felt so strong, so safe. Her mind swam with emotions.

Lightning lit up the sky and the wind whipped against them.

"Lush", he said playfully, wriggling out from her grip and wrapping one of her arms around his neck. With his help she stumbled back to the tent and collapsed into her bag. He sat down next to her.

"You okay?", he asked.

"Oh, me? I'm fiiiiine."

He nodded and looked toward the door. Instinctually, Rose reached a hand out to him. He took it and she wove her fingers in between his. "Daryl?", she murmured.

He looked at her, uncomfortable. "Yeah?"

"Don't go. Please."

He opened his mouth but no words came out. Her eyes didn't leave his. They were dark, golden brown, and they looked so hopeful and vulnerable.

He let go of her hand and laid down beside her. In her inebriated state, she didn't or couldn't care if she made a fool of herself. Just felt her emotions intensified and somehow freed and needed to express them. She moved against him so their wet bodies were touching. She put an arm around his waist and nuzzled into his neck and breathed him in. Shivering slightly, she pressed against him.

Daryl let out a sigh that she couldn't gauge especially in her state of mind. He reached for a blanket and pulled it over the both of them. He wanted her, but she was broken and fragile and needy and while he couldn't explain or deny his affection for her, he was afraid of what might come of it.

He wanted to touch her, to run his hands over her skin, but instead kissed the top of her head. "Night, Rose", he whispered.

Her small hand gripped his waist gently and she pressed her lips to his neck and let them linger. Not sensually, but lovingly, to the point it was almost heart-breaking. Her innocence astounded him. He closed his eyes.

"Daryl", she breathed, and closed hers too.

They woke to the sound of what Rose could only describe as irritated, sarcastic laughter.

Shane stood at their feet with his arms crossed. He looked down at them with unamused eyes. They were still facing each other, Rose curled up into Daryl. One of his arms was stretched out under his pillow, the other resided on Rose's waist.

"Ain't that sweet", Shane said.

Rose bit her lip and wondered how long he'd been watching them. If she had to guess, it was probably longer than necessary. She also regretted him just coming into the tent without warning. Not bothering to move, she looked to Daryl for his reaction.

"The fuck you doin' just coming in here?", he spat, lifting his head and glaring at Shane. Rose hadn't heard him sound so harsh before, and she was glad for it.

"Hey, man", Shane started, "just came to wake your lazy asses up. We got shit to do."

He nodded at Rose. "That includes you too, princess. Time to get your hands dirty."