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Addison heaved an irritated sigh. Get him? The only thing to get was that she thought he was an asshole, and he thought she was a bitch. There was nothing more to it. But now all of a sudden you get him? Girl, you are a piece of work. She kicked a rock, sending it flying until it hit a tree trunk with a satisfying thud. Glancing behind her, she was happy to see that camp was no longer visible. She needed space to think. She came upon a large oak tree. Sizing up the trunk, Addison took several steps back, pulling out her knife, and, without really trying to aim, threw it at the tree. The throw went wide to the right by about four feet. Addison rolled her eyes at her sub-par abilities and went to search for the knife. She didn't want to admit that after getting Daryl's backstory, she could actually understand the man better now. They disliked each other basically on instinct. She wasn't supposed to understand him.

But now she did, and she couldn't undo it. She dug through the layers of dead leaves, knowing that with her throwing, the knife couldn't have gone far, as off target as it was. She'd been hoping a walk through the woods would give her some sort of epiphany on what to do now. But so far, she had nothing, and the sun was beginning to set. "Don't know if you're still around, or if you ever were, but I could really use a sign," Addison muttered to Whoever might still be listening, sparing a moment to glare at the sky above the treetops. A breeze shifted the leaves in the canopy above her, making the sun glint on something shiny half buried in a small mound of dirt and leaves. She stooped to pick up her knife, but it was caught. She kicked at the pile of dirt it was in. It clattered, like a pile of tent poles or something. Addison stared at the dirt and then gave it another nudge. The mound moved and clattered softly again. Addison squatted down for a better look.

It wasn't a pile of dirt. It was a dirt-encrusted bag, made of some sort of canvas-like material. Addison picked it up and untied the drawstring at one end. "Well. I asked for it." About a dozen arrows were inside. Addison took one out. It looked expensive, made of aluminum or carbon. She wasn't an expert, but she knew who would be. "Should've been asking for signs all along," she sighed, half amused. She put the arrow back in the bag and pulled the drawstring tight. Picking up her knife from where it had fallen out of the bag, Addison turned back toward camp.

The sun was half hidden by the horizon when she finally came out of the woods. She hadn't realized how far she had wandered. She picked up the pace, afraid that if she didn't make it back before nightfall, whoever was on watch might mistake her for a Walker and get trigger-happy. She walked back into camp as everyone was sitting down around the fire to eat. Addison quietly set down the bag of arrows next to her tent and then joined the circle. She glanced at Glenn as she sat down. One of his eyes had completely swollen shut, his upper lip was split, and bruises decorated his face. She then risked a peek at Daryl across the fire. He looked better than Glenn, but hadn't bothered to clean himself up. He had a pretty spectacular black eye, and she was willing to bet her cheek looked similar. He kept his eyes on his dinner, ignoring any of Carol's attempts to bring him into the conversation.

After a little while, he tossed his scraps in the fire and left, only pausing while passing Rick to mutter, "I'll take watch tonight."

Addison watched him leave, shouldering his crossbow.

An hour and a half later, Addison finally found herself to be the last one by the fire, which was now only a pile of glowing embers. She stood and dumped the bucket of dirt on top of the coals. After waiting a moment for her eyes to adjust to the sudden darkness, Addison went to her tent and picked up the bag of arrows. She made her way over to the cars, which were lined up end-to-end to form a barricade on one side of the camp. She knew Daryl liked to sit on top of the old red and white Suburban because it offered the highest vantage point.

Addison cleared her throat as she approached to make her presence known, wishing to avoid an arrow to the eye socket. Daryl turned a flashlight toward her and Addison was momentarily blinded. But she didn't have to see to know that he was scowling down at her.

"What do you want?"

Addison held up the bag. "Peace offering. May I?" she asked, indicating that she wanted permission to climb up.

Daryl stared at her for a moment. She had clearly thrown him for a loop. Finally, he shrugged, turning back to watching the open field beyond the camp, and Addison hoisted herself up.

"Here," she said, pushing the canvas bag to him. He raised an eyebrow at her, but took it. Daryl was silent as he opened the bag and saw the contents. "I went on a walk in the woods this afternoon, after – after everything," Addison explained to fill the silence. "I found that. Thought it would be a terrible waste to leave them when you could obviously use them. I don't know much about crossbows or arrows and stuff, but they look like really nice ones. Sorry about the hole in the bag. I was doing some target practice… but I missed the target." Addison bit her lip to stop the rambling. Daryl was looking at her, a hint of amusement in his expression.

"Not surprising," he said with a smirk. But his tone held none of the usual spite and irritation, and the smirk was more him being smartass than him being an asshole. Addison took this new development as his thanks.

"I also wanted to thank you – properly – for saving my ass the first time we met. It was rude of me not to do so right away. So, Daryl, thank you for keeping me from becoming a happy meal, as I believe you put it."

Addison had to give the man credit for how quickly he accepted this strange visit. "You're welcome," he said after a moment, taking out an arrow to inspect it.

"And –" Addison hesitated, wondering if she had already said enough. She ran the risk of looking like an even bigger idiot if she continued. Daryl put the arrow back in the bag and turned to her, waiting for her to go on.

Addison kept her eyes on her hands, picking at the paint on the top of the car. "I'm sorry for all the shit that's happened. The deer. And then the rest stop. Everything since joining the group. I'm… I'm not good with other people a lot of the time."

Daryl huffed and shook his head, looking back out over the field. "Then why'd you stay?"

Addison stared at his profile. If someone had told her she'd one day be having a civil conversation with Daryl Dixon, she probably would have laughed right in their face. The idea was inconceivable. Except here they were, doing just that. "I guess I got tired of being alone," she eventually replied. She started chewing on the thumbnail of her left hand.

"Being alone's not that bad," Daryl said distantly, still watching the dark field.

Addison shrugged. "I suppose. But being around others keeps you from going crazy." Daryl snorted at that. "Well, the talking-to-yourself, multiple-personality kind of crazy," Addison amended.

They fell into silence. Addison began to bite her nail again. A warm breeze blew across the field in front of them, rippling the long grass. From the way the full moon lit up the field, it looked like they were staring at the ocean.

"Well," Addison said quietly, interrupting the silence, "I'm gonna head off to bed. Have an uneventful watch," she added after a pause. Daryl nodded, sparing her a glance. Addison lowered herself onto the rear bumper of the Suburban and then jumped to the ground.

"Hey," Daryl grunted from behind her. Addison turned. "Sorry for punching you."

Addison gave a small smile. "Accidents happen. G'night, Daryl."

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