"Stay here Emory! Until I find out what the hell's goin' on. You too Carol," Daryl grabbed his things and ran across the field to be there when Rick pulled the truck in.
Carol wrapped a comforting arm around Emory's strong shoulders, and they both watched Daryl hurry across the pasture.
"He's a good man, you know?" Carol glanced up at Emory. But one look at Emory's face and Carol knew she was preaching to the choir. Emory had already figured out just how good Daryl was.
-/-/-/-/-
"Ya think yer so fuckin' clever, dontcha?" Shane stormed over to Daryl. After his latest shouting match with Rick, Shane was once again in a frenzy, this time over the arrival of Randall. Rick had brought back one of the injured guys from the group that tried to kill them. When Rick stood his ground, Shane slammed the door shut only to see Daryl heading towards Rick.
"The fuck ya want Shane? Don't ya have enough to do...what with keepin' yer baby mama from runnin' off on ya?" Daryl snapped back, too furious to hold his tongue.
"Just keep yer murdering whore away from Lori!" Shane warned, standing menacingly in front of him.
"Don't 'xpect none of us will have to do jack shit ya say after Hershel and Rick see what ya did ta Emory," Daryl taunted.
"Why ya fuckin' piece a trailer trash!" The veins in Shane's face began throbbing as he positioned himself to take a swing.
"Shane!" Rick was running over, followed by Emory, Lori, Carol and Hershel.
"Ya got sumthin' ya wanna tell me?" Rick's eyes narrowed and his voice grew cold...the vein in his temple pulsing.
"Ya ain't gonna listen to anything that whore says, are ya Rick? For chrissakes, she's fuckin' Daryl Dixon of all people!" Shane turned to spat at Daryl's feet. "How many times are you going to endanger Lori and Carl and the baby over a fuckin' Dixon?"
"Then please, tell me your side of the story?" Rick faltered for barely a second as he struggled to remember the Shane from his childhood...his friend and partner. The man who would never hurt a woman.
"Don't you fuckin' look at me like that, Rick!" Shane's eyes glowed with crazy as he turned to face Rick.
"Not you! Its so easy for you to always take the high road ain't it Rick? Never get yer own hands dirty though, do ya? Instead of taking care of yours, ya run off takin' care of everyone else...everyone but Lori and Carl," Shane marched into Rick's chest while Lori cried and raised her palm to her mouth. "And ya sanctify it by telling yerself its for the best. But have you ever asked Lori or Carl? Because I can recall numerous times...even before all this...where ya left 'em to go after they begged ya ta just stay!"
"Don't you dare talk about MY family," Rick thought it would be hard to stand up to Shane. But to question his love for his family? That made his blood boil.
"Are you shittin' me? You've never been there when they needed you! Carl's bike on Christmas morning? I was the one to show up at 1am to put it together, while you went to follow a lead. And it was yer brilliant idea to go after Merle. How many people did that cost us? Amy! Jim! And for what? A bunch of guns, that grandpa here won't even let us carry!" Shane was marching around and around Rick now.
"And lets not forget searchin' those woods for a little girl we all knew was dead. And Carl got shot! Yer own boy got shot. And then when Lori finds out she's pregnant and she has no faith you can take care for her and tries to abort. Fuck why would she think you'll be there? When she goes into labor where are ya gonna be? Off saving more cats in trees?" Shane's face was beet red and Lori collapsed in tears.
But Rick just saw red and charged at Shane, and soon both men were rolling around and around, punching and hitting...the sickening sound of flesh pounding bone. Until they finally separated and Shane pulled his pistol, aiming it square at Rick.
Daryl immediately flipped his crossbow and had a bolt ready and Emory also pulled her gun and pointed it at Shane's brain.
"Tell 'em ta drop their weapons." Shane snarled at Rick.
"Shane! Please! I know this isn't what you want," Lori cried out to him, the only person able to break his concrete facade.
"Lori. I love you...and I'll take care of you. You don't need an abortion because I'll take care of you. I won't be running off. All I care about is you and Carl and our baby. You know 'Rick' can't say the same?" Shane's voice dripped with disgust at just the sound of Rick's name.
Lori's eyes connected with Shane and Emory could see her fear and how easy it would be to believe in Shane's perverted reality.
Shane's eyes hardened and he knew what he had to do. He had to kill Rick. It was the only way he could keep Lori and the baby safe.
The boom of gunfire was deafening and Shane suddenly lurched forward, blood spurting from his chest. Rick caught him, tossing his gun aside as they both slid to the ground.
Over Shane's shoulder Rick saw his son holding the very handgun Shane had taught him to use barely a week ago. Smoke was emanating from the barrel that was now shaking in Carl's hands.
"Carl!" Lori ran to her son, collapsing in tears as she tossed the handgun to the ground, stunned that her son had just shot Shane.
Emory ran to stand beside Daryl while everyone watched transfixed as Rick held his former best friend in his arms and Shane took his last breath. Rick railed and screamed at Shane and at any God and every god that would listen. "Why brother? Why? It didn't have ta be this way?"
Emory slipped her hand in Daryl's, suddenly needing some sort of comfort. His fingers stiffened at such an unnatural thing for him but he too needed the comfort of the touch from another person.
Emory heard Carl cry out that he was afraid Shane was going to kill his Daddy. But that wasn't something a little boy should ever have to do.
Hershel managed to pull Rick away from Shane's dead body, draping his coat over the corpse just as the rest of the group ran over.
"What happened? My God! Shane!" Andrea ran over and dropped to her knees beside the dead man while Dale, T-Dog, Glenn and Maggie stood by not believing what had happened.
"Andrea, come on. Lets give the Grimes some space. We can fill you in," Carol stepped forward, but Andrea swatted her hands away, stomping off in a huff. Dale debated heading after her, but decided she too needed some time to cool off.
"We'll go make a spot beside Sophia," T-Dog offered, dragging Jimmy with him to the barn to get some shovels.
As Emory, Daryl and Carol prepared to walk away, they instantly stilled when they caught sight of movement from under Hershel's coat. Daryl instinctively raised his weapon and Emory raised her gun as they saw Shane come back as a walker. Everyone else caught sight of the commotion and came running back, all stunned.
Daryl nodded to Emory that this was his shot to take. He knew he should feel bad, but the memory of those bruises on Emory's body allowed him to let his bolt slide easily from his grip, ending Shane yet again.
"Oh my God! Shane musta got bit! Thats why he was acting so crazy," Lori cried out, holding Carl even closer ...strangely comforted by the news. But Daryl briefly caught an odd look in Rick's eyes...something that made him far more uneasy than simply Shane's death.
-/-/-
"Did ya come into contact with Shane's blood?" Daryl pulled her aside, needing to know. The second Shane reanimated Daryl felt the fear and panic build.
"No contact," Emory immediately understood why he was asking the question. "And other than being afraid of him these past two days, I feel fine."
"Ok. Ok. That's good." Daryl began pacing back and forth...and back and forth until Emory had to stop him.
Before she could get a word out, Daryl yanked her against him and slammed his lips to hers, allowing himself the momentary pleasure of letting go and losing himself in her. Then, just as abruptly, he pulled away.
"I gotta go," his ears tinged deep red and his words were mumbled. Without bothering to wait for a reply from Emory he turned on his heel and hurried away leaving her once again speechless.
-/-/-/-/-/-
Emory didn't see Daryl for a couple of hours and she'd started to worry. They were planning to have a service for Shane in a little bit. Everyone was seemingly ok with chalking Shane's behavior up to the sickness. It made things so much simpler. Except for Rick.
Emory could understand why it was so important that Lori believe that. It would obviously help Carl deal with what he'd done if he knew Shane was essentially dead already and that his bullet only minimized further damage.
She still wept for Carl's loss. If nothing else, Shane loved Carl and Lori more than anything...including himself. And she had no doubt Shane would have given his life for either of them. And maybe he had?
-/-_\\_
Emory stood around the campfire with the others not really listening to all the muffled discussions going on around her. That was until Carol tapped her arm and brought her attention to Daryl who was walking over to join them.
"Anything?" Rick asked, his face expressing only a fraction of the stress and worry he felt. He'd brought Randall back to the farm. This was all on him.
"That boys gotta group...maybe thirty men and they're heavily armed. Ain't lookin' ta make friends neither. If they roll in here, our men are dead and..." Daryl paused and swallowedly heavily, "and our women'll wish they were!" He turned his gaze to Emory, silently promising he would do whatever it took to protect her. Not like he'd done with Shane.
Carol sneered in disgust at Daryl's bloody knuckles and turned, but she really blamed Rick for thus. If he wanted to torture a child, then he should damn well do it himself. Carol felt ashamed but she could hear Shane whispering to her from the grave...'Rick never gets his own hands dirty!'
"That settles it! He's a threat. We handle it tonight," Rick's face became hard and cold, as if he was determined to prove Shane wrong...even now from the grave Shane was still manipulating Rick.
Emory watched Dale run off after Rick, obviously disturbed by the change in their de facto leader.
"Come on. Let's get your hands cleaned up before they get infected," Emory's eyes held none of the judgment that Carol's had. She worried that Carol was holding onto rules and mores that no longer applied
She grabbed the nearest of the many first aid kits they had stashed around camp. It was one of the things they learned early on was that they often needed to do a lot of first aid for themselves. She'd stitched up many a cut those first few months with only dental floss, vodka and Carol's sewing needles.
"This is gonna sting," she warned Daryl, but he just looked at her...his face saying "Duhhh!"
"Fine tough guy," she dumped a healthy splash of isopropyl alcohol over the bleeding and raw knuckles on his right hand, taking a small perverse pleasure when he gasped in pain then quickly sucked it in. She tried to hold back her smirk but he'd already caught her.
"Didn't know ya was a sadist?" Daryl accused but the playful crinkle at the corner of his eyes told her he was teasing.
"Well, you never told me you were a masochist, though I guess I should have figured it out seeing as how you always seem to be such a glutton for punishment," she retorted, rather pleased with herself. She slathered on some antibiotic ointment over his knuckles but took her time, slowly rubbing it in.
She noticed Daryl's pupils dilate and realized this simple act was affecting him. Out of curiosity or just plain oineriness, she slowed down her motions and took her time, sensually rubbing the slippery ointment over his strong hand. She made long slow strokes between the ridges of his knuckles as she cradled his hand in her soft ones.
Daryl tried to control himself but Emory could hear his breathing change and hitch as if he was struggling to keep it even. She couldn't lift her head and look at him, or she knew she'd lose it herself. Probably jump him right there, where they sat by the well and rip his clothes off.
Daryl couldn't take it any longer and roughly pulled her chin up with his free hand so he could look at her. "You're doin' that on purpose!" It was an accusation not a question. But he wasn't mad. He was hot and bothered.
"Doin' what?" Emory did her best innocent face while she wrapped gauze around his hand about five times before taping it securely.
"I don't suppose you'll listen if I ask you not to use this hand for a few days, but will you please leave this on so it doesn't get infected?" Emory begged sincerely.
"Ya gonna re-bandage it for me tomorrow?" Daryl smirked, feeling confident when he could tell she was as affected as he'd been. Well, maybe not AS affected, he qualified. Because now he had a hard on that nobody could miss.
"I will if you want me too?" Emory through the ball back in his court, but leaned forward and softly kissed his lips.
"Come on, its about time to go and pay our last respects to Shane," Emory stood and reached for him.
"Do we gotta?" Daryl could pout worse than Carl at times.
"Yes, we gotta," she mimicked him, then reached out her hand to pull him up. He complied...and held onto her hand as they walked over to the row of oak trees where they had started burying their own.
-/-/-/-
After the funeral Emory walked with Daryl the long way out to his tent. It was getting closer to dinner and Emory could tell Daryl was getting agitated with each passing minute.
Daryl threw himself onto a log and picked up a few handmade bolts he'd been working on. It was obvious he wasn't in a chatty mood and Emory began wondering if she'd come out here by mistake.
"Daryl, would you rather be alone?" Emory leaned against the tree directly across from him. Her voice wasn't pleading or nagging, just matter-of-fact.
Daryl looked up at her from his spot and she simply took his breath away. This seemed to happen at the oddest times for him lately. Sometimes he'd be watching while she ate with the group and would then break out into a huge smile at something someone had said. Or when she was hanging laundry and he'd hear her singing while the wind whipped up her hair.
Now, her face was alight with the late afternoon sun, giving her complexion a golden glowy look and her gray eyes seemed to soften to a warm gunmetal. But it was her lips that pulled him. Deep, rosy pink and full, with corners that turned up so slightly at the corners.
He stood up and closed the distance.
"I do want to be alone...away from them. But I want you to stay. Will ya? I know I ain't good company right now and ain't much fer talkin' neither." Daryl admitted but his hand held her wrist while his thumb stroked her pulse point.
With a slight smile, she nodded. "Why don't we just sit," she took the free spot beside where he had been sitting.
He sat beside her and returned to sharpening the already sharp bolts. Every so often he'd hand her the finished one and she'd hand him a new one. And so it went, the two of them in companionable silence.
"Daryl?" They both looked up to see Dale making his way across the field to join them. As he got closer, they both stood up to meet him.
"Oh hey Emory. I'm glad you're here. I wanted to talk to you also." Dale reached the clearing.
"This about Randall?" Daryl asked but already knew the answer.
"I know you don't want to go along with this. You're a decent man!" Dale insisted. "And so is Rick! I know this is Shane's handiwork. That crap he spewed this morning? I'm afraid its affecting Rick's judgment."
"And you Emory? I know this isn't you," Dale apparently had taken for granted she was on his side.
"Dale, you might have been right six months ago. But things have changed. People have changed ...Hell, I have changed." Emory closed her eyes.
"But we can't let this world strip us of our goodness...our humanity!" Dale cried out with emotion.
"A few months ago I would have agreed with you. But now? I trust Daryl's judgment because you're right, he is a good man." Emory agreed causing Daryl to blush again.
"He's also the only one of us who has spent any time talking to Randall...looked him in the eyes." Emory reminded Dale. "He knows best if this is just an innocent kid caught up in a bad situation...or if he's a real threat to us?"
"And?" Dale's old, wizened eyes stared at Daryl.
"He ain't innocent that's fer sure. While he ain't the ringleader er nuthin', he's done and been apart of some sick shit. Raping young girls while makin' the daddy watch...that's who this guy is now Dale. And he's a weasel liar too. He'll say anything to save himself." Daryl gave Dale his honest opinion.
"Dale, we got people to protect. OUR own people. We cain't afford ta be wrong with this guy," Daryl explained it in simple terms.
"I'm not saying we welcome him into the group. But killing him? How are we any better than that group we're so afraid of?" Dale retorted. And that did get to Emory.
'Were they becoming the monsters they were so afraid of?' She asked herself.
"Sorry Dale. This is Rick's call," Daryl dismissed the older man and turned and walked back to his rock. Emory however paused before she stepped forward to hug a very surprised Dale.
"Thank you for this. We need you doing this. All of us need you. I'll think on it, I promise," Emory conceded that maybe she should give this a lot more thought. She watched Dale turn and trudge back, shoulders hunched and obviously taking this hard. Emory rejoined Daryl on the boulder and took a deep breath.
"What was that about?" Daryl peered over at her.
"I don't know. His points got to me. Maybe he's right? Maybe we should find another way?" Emory wondered aloud.
"No way! That kid is trouble. And I ain't gonna risk anything happening to ya over that piece a scum," Daryl spat as he remembered the way that little shit practically got off on telling his little story.
"Daryl, don't you dare make this about me. What does your conscience tell you is right?" Emory couldn't let him have a man's death on his hands because of her.
"He's a dangerous slimy snake and I don't want you to ever be near him," Daryl's voice became hard and cold and Emory knew Daryl's mind was made up.
-/-/-/-
"I gotta go do this," Daryl told her long after the big townhall style meeting in Hershel's living room to decide Randall's fate. He was preparing to go and escort Randall to the barn where Rick was planning to execute the boy tonight.
"I know," Emory leaned up and kissed his lips. "Just be careful." In the end Emory had ultimately sided with Dale, but with just her, Andrea and Dale they were easily outvoted.
Daryl snorted and turned away to march towards the shed, but he had a quiet smile on his face as he thought of her waiting for him to come back. That she cared if he did come back. That she cared despite disagreeing on this.
-/-/-/-/-/-
"Emory! How can you just let him do this?" Carol laid into her the moment she joined Glenn, Lori and Andrea by the campfire. Dale was still too upset to be around any of them, and nobody knew where he was. Emory had checked the RV which at least was still there. Emory had worried a little that Dale might be so disgusted with the group that he'd just take his RV and leave.
"What are you talking about?" Emory frowned at the petite woman.
"Daryl! He's not Rick's henchman!" Carol was obviously very upset.
"Rick doesn't need a henchman!" Lori snapped at Carol, obviously hanging on today by a thread. Her lover and likely father of her child had just been buried and now her husband was about to murder a kid.
"Doesn't he?" Carol snapped back.
"Oh right! Like when we found Sophia? Did you see anyone else stepping up to do what needed to be done?" Lori answered cruelly.
"Hey Stop It! Both of you! Its been an awful and really long day and the last thing we need to do is start sniping at each other," Emory turned and yelled at everyone, daring anyone else to speak up.
So they stood around in almost meditative silence, all of them staring into the remaining fire embers as they crackled orange and red. Emory could feel the tension escalate with each minute they didn't hear a gunshot.
Emory eventually saw Rick marching into the campsight with Carl being dragged by his arm. As soon as he reached Lori, he yanked her with him and they all headed towards their tent. The only words any of them heard were, "He wanted to watch, Lori. Carl wanted to watch!"
Emory could literally hear the agony in Rick's voice as he told his wife what happened. Or rather, what didn't happen.
Daryl finally joined the group after locking Randall back up and sat down beside Emory while he told the group what happened.
"I think I'm going to go tell Dale," Andrea was visibly relieved by the news. Glenn ran to go tell the Greene's...or rather tell Maggie to be specific.
"How are you doing?" Emory turned to ask him. In spite of everything, she still wasn't sure what Daryl's feelings on the matter were. He actually looked like he felt relief they hadn't done it.
"Dunno ta tell ya the truth. We cain't just pretend that this kid didn't try to kill our folks...and his people do bad shit. But killing him? That don't feel like us. Yer right. It feels like Shane," Daryl sighed and Emory tilted her head to rest it on his shoulder. She rested her hand on his dirty knee and became lost in thought beside him.
How come everything seemed to be so much harder now? Wasn't trying to survive the walkers enough? Now they had to survive their fellow human beings too?
Daryl held his breath and refused to move. Today had been shit upon crap upon more shit. But now...in this single moment ...this was good.
"Aaagghhhh" a far off scream ripped through the night and Daryl was the first to go running off into the field towards the source of the scream. Emory snatched the nearest lantern and the same first aid kit she'd used on Daryl and ran towards Daryl.
She could feel others behind her but didn't have time to stop and see who was there and who wasn't.
"Over here!" She heard Daryl scream and soon she could make out his frantic, waving hands. The others were following her since her lantern was the easiest to see in the dark of night.
As soon as she reached Daryl and saw Dale lying on the ground, his abdomen shredded and guts pulled out she knew it was over for Dale. She fell to her knees beside him, stroking his head.
It was obvious he was already in shock. He was shivering from cold despite the warm night. She had to help him. She opened the first aid kit and pulled the vial of morphine.
"Don't waste it. He won't make it long enough for it to even take effect," Hershel placed a gentle hand on Emory's shoulder. Tears were no longer streaming, they were flooding from her eyes. She barely even felt Andrea push her out of the way.
"We have to do something for him?" Emory whispered up into Hershel's wise old eyes. Hershel knew Emory was a deeply caring and sensitive woman. But she had no experience with the cycle of life and death like he had been his entire career. He'd just never anticipated anything like this.
"Help him. He's in pain!" Andrea cried out...begging ...her gaze settling on Rick. With a heavy sigh Rick pulled out his pistol and cocked the trigger. He aimed it at Dale's head.
Rick never even saw Daryl step in front of him to take his pistol.
"Sorry Brother!" Daryl whispered before he pulled the trigger...ending Dale's suffering.
-/-/-/-/-/-
Emory was sure it had to be near 3:00 am by the time they got Dale's body back and buried. They'd had to dig a grave that night as it was just too dangerous to leave him out and possibly attract more walkers.
Emory wanted to talk to Daryl but he and Rick, Glenn and T-Dog had been so busy and so he told her to go and get some sleep. She'd been reluctant to just leave him with all he'd been through today, but she was simply too exhausted to argue. In fact she collapsed on her cot, boots still on.
Daryl peeked in on her over an hour later. He'd just meant to make sure she was ok and then head back to his tent. He unzipped her tent and found her face down on her cot, a dribble of drool leaking from her lips.
He knew she would wake up stiff and uncomfortable if she slept like that so he slowly undid her boots and slid them off.
Emory's eyes fluttered open at the strange feeling of someone taking her shoes off. She momentarily panicked until she saw it was Daryl.
"Hey, are you done?" She wiped her eyes groggily as she made out his form.
"Yep...we're gonna have a service in the morning," Daryl's voice was weary. His body and mind both exhausted.
"You sound exhausted," Emory commented.
"Yeah," was all the response he could muster.
"Come here," she pulled his hand and urged him to sit down on the floor. She sat up on her cot behind him, letting him lean back. She reached for her pillow to rest it under his neck so the metal from the cot wouldn't dig in. Then she gently began to massage the tension from his neck and shoulders. He tensed immediately, unprepared for her touch. But after a second, he couldn't deny how amazing her magic fingers felt.
"Ya don't gotta do that," He mumbled, but secretly he hoped she didn't stop.
"I want to," her breath was husky and warm in his ear. She continued gently stroking the knots caused by a day of tension and grueling work.
"You can lay down in here if you want," Emory offered and to her surprise, Daryl just nodded. Daryl was starting to feel so good and relaxed he wondered if he would have jumped off a roof if she suggested it. She continued far longer than he should have let her, knowing how little time they had until it was morning. When she did finally stop, semi-pleased with her work, she handed him one of her extra pillows as well as two blankets which he silently accepted.
Just as she was about to fall back asleep, she swore she heard him say, "Thanks Em."