DISCLAIMER: I do not own AMC's and Robert Kirkman's "The Walking Dead" or any of its characters/places. There may be a few OCs at a later time and those will be mine.

WARNINGS: Rated T for language, violence, and gore. Comic spoilers later on but you'll be warned about those specifically before they happen.

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews/favorites/follows so far!

Rick vaulted out of bed and landed on the cold prison floor. Something was wrong. Or it felt like something should be wrong.

The first rays of sun were beginning to trickle through the high prison windows. The air around him was crisp and almost fresh smelling. It was so unlike the rotting prison. Everything was peaceful and that was what felt wrong.

Rick knew better than to get too comfortable. They'd learned that with the months they'd spent on the road. How many times did they think they had found a safe house and tried to get settled before being run out in the dark of night by a small herd? Or when they trekked deep into the backwoods thinking it'd be deserted but met up with more of the undead? If you got comfortable then you got lazy. If you got lazy you were dead.

Rick clung to the bars of his cell in thought. What resources did they have? Well the prison was sturdy and offered good protection from the living and dead. They amassed more guns and ammo from Morgan and Woodbury. They'd be set with food if spring would hurry up. The field would provide fruit and vegetables to supplement any game animals. There was a fresh stream nearby so water wasn't an issue. How many able bodies did they have? He, Daryl, Michonne, Maggie, Glenn, Sasha, Tyreese, and Karen had all proved themselves. Carl was a bit of a wildcard: He was fierce but a little too unpredictable. He'd prefer it if Carol and Beth stuck to watching Judith and assisting with prison chores. Hershel had to stay tucked away. He was the only one with any medical training, even if it was for animals. He was too valuable to risk especially after being reduced to using crutches. Then there was Woodbury.

Taking in the survivors seemed like the right (and noble) thing to do forty eight hours ago. But now, what were they good for? Daryl was onto something when he said there wasn't much they could do to help out. Sure the kids could be trained up and be useful—in a few years. That didn't help any in the present. The older folks well….they were dinosaurs. They'd die off, go extinct, and leave nothing but their decaying bones behind.

"And that's exactly why the Governor abandoned them," thought Rick. "We're not like that here," he said and walked out of his cell.

A few whispers were carried into the cell block: It seemed like some of the women were awake and scrounging up a breakfast. Rick approached Judith who was asleep in her crib. She wasn't crying yet but that'd all change when the prison started to stir. The end of the world was no place for a baby. Yet here one was. She didn't even have a birthday. If she survived infancy then he'd give her one. She wouldn't have the same shots they'd all received against the most basic diseases. Even a mild cold could turn deadly for her. Or something as simple as an ear infection would have to go untreated and she could be permanently deaf. Like that wouldn't be a setback for the group.

Rick took his little ass kicker in his arms and held her tight to his chest. Oh how he hadn't done that enough. She was a warm little bundle as he pressed her against his heart. She was their hope. The hope that they could beat this and come out strong on the other side. There were still miracles left in this world and she proved that with every breath she took.

Rick brushed Judith's forehead with a brief kiss. He couldn't be quite certain yet, but it looked like she was going to have Lori's eyes and her lips. Rick blinked. He'd seen that nose before.

On Shane.

Rick shook his head: It was just the light, or lack thereof, playing tricks on him. There was no way his daughter would have his former friend's nose. Lori had promised him that. This baby was his.

Rick set the baby back down before anymore cradling would wake her and headed to eat.

"Good morning Rick," said a couple of the former Woodbury residents as they ambled in.

"Good morning," Rick smiled in return. "Please have some breakfast."

Maggie set down a tray of grits and deer meat. "It's not much," she said remorsefully.

"I wouldn't mind some diversity," said an old man; the same that had confronted Daryl.

"I'd agree with you there Mr…." began Rick.

"Mason," said the man.

"Mr. Mason," confirmed Rick. "We gotta wait for spring and then we can start planting the field."

"Why wait until spring? It wouldn't be hard to get a greenhouse going. We have plenty of room….enough strong backs. Not necessarily mine but I worked in construction for fifty two years so I know a thing or two."

"Hadn't thought of doing that," said Rick. "If I get you what you need, do you think you could oversee it?"

"Absolutely. I would love to be able to help out. Some of your people have me feeling like I might not be doing my part…."

"That's not true at all….We just haven't had time to get everyone situated yet. You're not a burden at all. We're happy to have you….more than happy," said Rick.

Over breakfast Mr. Mason explained to Rick all the supplies they'd need in order to build a greenhouse. It wasn't much but they'd need things like the plastic roofing and hoses that couldn't be found around the prison. Another run would have to be made.

"You should be safe enough if you take Michonne, and Glenn," provided Hershel.

Rick grimaced. "I'd really like Daryl and Tyreese to come too. We'll have to go into a home improvement type store and those are tricky. They're big and dark….a lot of places for walkers to hide."

So it was decided they'd leave once everyone was up. Michonne worked on refueling the cars they'd take while Rick and Glenn poured over various maps trying to figure out the most likely places to find their supplies. They wanted to make one trip, in and out, and be back before night.

"Well," said Rick. "It looks like we're almost ready. Daryl should be up by now so I just gotta get Tyreese."

Or the consent to use Tyreese.

He hadn't forgotten that he'd placed Tyreese under Carl's command. Neither Sasha, Karen, nor Tyreese had complained about working with Carl and they'd done a surprising amount in such short time. At the rate they were working at, Carl would have the other cell block ready for Woodbury in a week. And then what would he have Carl work on?

Carl and his crew were already at work in D Block. They'd removed all the walker corpses and were scrubbing down the cells to remove the stench of death.

"Carl!" called Rick. "Carl, I need to have a word with you."

Carl popped his head out of a cell to acknowledge his father.

Rick couldn't believe he was about to ask his son for permission to do something. As if the world wasn't backwards enough already.

"I'm going on another run in a few minutes with Michonne, Daryl, and Glenn but I'd also like it if Tyreese would come….that is if you can spare him," said Rick. He saw Carl's eyes narrow and figured he was about to be turned down. "I can send Beth over too. I'll also need you to be in charge around here," he added to sweeten the pot.

"Yeah? How long will you be gone for?" asked Carl.

"Be back before night," answered Rick. "Mr. Mason from Woodbury suggested we build a greenhouse and we need a few things for it."

Carl looked over at Tyreese. "Yeah I guess you can have him. Hey Tyreese!" he called. Rick decided to wait for Carl to explain the situation since he was technically the boss inside the cell block. "My dad is going on a run today and wants you to go with him," said Carl.

"Uh….is….uh…." stuttered Tyreese, clearly unsure of the leadership at the moment. "Yeah uh, ok."

"We'll be back before dark," said Rick one last time to Carl. "Try not to burn the prison down."

Carl sneered. "I was six and it was only one set of curtains." Tyreese snorted. "Ugly anyways," Carl said lowly.

A pair of piercing blue eyes cracked open. Tired muscles were stretched as Daryl sat up in bed. His ever alert ears picked up the sounds of the prison inhabitants milling about. The cell block was fully lit meaning the day was well on its way.

Damn Carol to hell and back.

That was the last time he'd ever accept any sort of nourishment from her. Sleeping pills in a bottle of water. Creative but a little too obvious.

Daryl knew something was off the second he tasted the water. It wasn't supposed to be chalky or dry his mouth out. And how many pills had she put in it for there to still be residue at the bottom? It felt like the entire bottle the way the need to sleep slammed into his body. But it wasn't like he could just turn the bottle away after taking one sip. There'd be questions and then Rick would want to drink it….

Before Carol had drugged him, Daryl was certain he never wanted to sleep again. He was going to push his body until it gave out or a walker got him. That was it. He needed the pain. His headache was gone and his stomach was lighter. His leg stung but it was mild. His muscles were sore but that was a constant occurrence. Daryl thought he deserved to feel like crap since Merle wasn't around to feel anything anymore. He missed the pain. It gave him something other than his brother to concentrate on. He needed that distraction and now it was gone.

Putting aside as many thoughts about Merle as he could, Daryl tugged on his boots and readied his crossbow for the day. He'd go out and hunt. He'd stay sharp by picking off a couple of squirrels….maybe take out a few walkers….

Daryl ran headfirst into Rick at the entrance to his cell. Both appeared startled by the collision; Daryl had even made a quick grab for his knife.

"I know I look and smell like a walker but you don't have to stab me for it," joked Rick.

"Sorry," muttered Daryl. "Just gonna go hunt. That ok?"

"No," said Rick. Daryl rolled his eyes. "I need you on a run today. We're about to leave."

"I'll take my bike," stated Daryl, clearly not upset with the change of plans. But he sure as shit wasn't going to be trapped in a car with people. He couldn't get five minutes to himself as it was.

"That's fine. Glenn will be with me and Michonne and Tyreese will take the truck."

Outside, Daryl started up his bike, because that was what it was now, and the others got into the cars. Carol came running out at the last possible second with something for him to eat wrapped in a towel. He shoved it into one of the pouches and figured he'd only eat it if he absolutely had to. Like gun-to-his-head, had to.

The cool air stung Daryl's face as he rode. He figured Glenn was giving Rick directions to their destination because every so often the car would make a turn at the last possible second. They passed through a small town, too small to meet their needs. The second looked promising but they did a U-turn due to the presence of walker herd. A third was burned out. Michonne kept them from exploring a fourth because it "didn't feel right." Numbers five and six had too many cars and debris in the road and they didn't want to enter on foot. Lucky number seven had more walkers than town two. It was after noon, and it was town number thirteen that finally merited some attention.

They drove through unhindered. The roads were clear. A few walkers stumbled about but looked too starved to be dangerous. Then they started to notice the piles and piles of burned walker bodies. Someone had cleaned town. The final pile was smoldering. That someone was still here.

Now it was Daryl that said something didn't feel right. Other survivors? Yeah that had always worked out for them.

"Do you see how clean this place is?" asked Tyreese. "Someone big was here. I'd say it was the National Guard."

"Maybe," said Michonne, "but the Governor took out a Guard camp somewhere. It could be what's left over from that."

"He could have come back here," said Glenn. "Ya know if he's familiar with the area and thinks it'd be a good stronghold."

The group huddled around Rick's car as they chewed on their thoughts.

"Daryl?" Rick asked when the silence wore on. "Got an opinion?"

"Yeah, get what we need and get the hell out. We've already wasted too much time," said the hunter.

"Alright," came Rick as he started the car again.

With the realization that they were definitely not the only living things in the town, Daryl's senses kicked into overtime. He took the lead of the small convoy mainly so he'd have an unobstructed view. The others would miss things that he wouldn't. Like the downed sign that once would have pointed to the street of a shopping center. It was their best bet.

Daryl turned down the street and eased up on his bike. There was a shopping center all right but it happened to have a military style camp set up in the parking lot.

Daryl knew both Rick and Tyreese had stopped driving as soon as they saw the camp. "The hell with them," thought Daryl. "Bunch of pussies. Scared of nothin'. The Governor ain't here or we'd been shot already." He threw every ounce of caution into the wind and rode right up to the camp without the others.

Whoever set up the camp up had meant business. To start with, the metal fence that encompassed the camp was able to rival the one at the prison. Several large green tents had been erected within the fence and were punctuated with gun turrets, generators, and lights. The far side of the camp backed up into one of the shopping buildings so it really only had to be defended from three sides. There were a couple large camo trucks parked nearby that looked like they were being properly maintained. No walkers.

It was a stronghold.

Daryl parked his bike and dismounted by a gate in the fence. He checked behind him and saw the others watching his every move.

"Pussies," he cursed under his breath.

Daryl moved towards the gate and found it unlocked.

"No one here," he thought for the hundredth time. He pushed the gate open and stepped inside. Daryl wasn't exactly surprised when nothing happened. He checked inside the first tent he came to and found it vacant. It was lined with cots but no one was in them, nor were there any personal belongings. The same could be said for the other three tents. He walked back to the gate and signaled the all clear for Rick.

Knowing the camp was empty, Daryl proceeded to the storefront. He eased the door open and sniffed. It smelled surprisingly fresh. Not a trace of the dead. A walker trapped inside a building was sure to stink it up, but nonetheless, he raised his crossbow.

Daryl entered the store without a problem except by now it really wasn't a store. The whole place had been turned into an army command center. It was a neat find, but it lacked what they were looking for. Daryl lowered his crossbow to maneuver his way around a stack of dark green boxes and then over to a box with a big red cross on it: Medical supplies. Ok, so those were always good to come across. Daryl dropped his crossbow and dug through another box: MREs. Food that would never go bad? Also a useful find. Damn they'd have to come back here again for all this.

Daryl moved farther in and would stop to peek inside a box here and there. He heard Rick or someone open the store's door but couldn't see them. His foot struck a metal object on the floor and he bent over to inspect it. He was barely able to make out the word 'ammo' when he registered movement behind him and then a searing pain that shot up from the base of his skull. He thought his head was going to explode and his world turned sideways as he fell forward. He had the briefest sensation that someone had placed a hand over his mouth and another one was responsible for lowering him to the ground without a sound.

A/N: So I love reviews because they tell me what I'm doing a good job at or not. Seriously, be brave. I mean come on, I'm giving y'all an update a day! This is hard work! ;)