Chapter Seven—Cause I'm not living, I'm not living anyway

When Rick first saw her, he thought she was a walker. But then, he noticed that she was talking to herself. Muttering and gesturing to the air in front of her.

He was worried that she might have broken her mind in this new world, but neither he nor his family could leave her out there to defend herself. Jimmy pulled over behind her.

It wasn't until Rick was right next to her that he recognized her. It was Amy. The girl that Daryl… was with at before he and Rick got together. Daryl had told him about her, and the others. It had stung, just a bit, but really only because it meant the bar had to be awfully high for the virginal Rick.

Daryl had assured him that there was a big difference in fucking someone to get off, and having sex with someone you love. Rick had never done the former, but had to agree that the latter was quite spectacular.

Rick approached Amy slowly, and realized that she was saying, "No, she's not, she's not. You just have to go back and see, go back again and…"

He cut her off as gently as he could, Beth behind him. Jimmy and Carl were by the car, within firing range if things got hairy, but far enough away that they didn't crowd her.

"Amy?" he said softly. She stopped talking, and looked at him in amazement. There was blood all over her face and arms, but Rick didn't see any obvious bite marks.

"They… they took her. They took my sister," she said. She seemed more coherent now that she had someone to talk to.

Rick's brow furrowed in concern. "Who did?"

"Those things!" she yelled, and Rick winced at her volume. The last thing they needed was more walkers.

"I'm sorry, Amy. I'm sorry you lost your sister." Rick hesitated only a moment before continuing. "Do you have anyone else waiting for you around here? Any friends, family?"

Amy nodded slowly. "We have a group, Andrea and me." Her eyes filled with tears, and one fell as she spoke. "They're in town hall. We holed ourselves up, and only come out for supplies. Andrea and I…" Her voice broke. "We were surrounded. I made it, but…" She met his eyes pleadingly. "Can you take me back to them?"

Rick nodded, and placed a hand on her shoulder to guide her to the car. Carl gave him a wide-eyed look as he passed, and Rick shook his head for him to knock it off.

Amy sat in the backseat between Rick and Carl, and she gave directions to Jimmy on how to get to town hall in the little town they'd stumbled upon earlier.

Beth had decided that they desperately needed more food before they did anything else. Even if they found suitable shelter, they were unlikely to be able to defend themselves for much longer due to their malnutrition over the last week.

Rick and his parents had been searching fro Daryl and Merle since leaving the cabin, but without success, which wasn't surprising, as they had no idea where to start, other than the fact that they were supposed to meet in Atlanta.

Jimmy stopped the car in front of town hall and turned to face Rick. She narrowed her eyes, and he saw true comprehension in them for the first time. "You're Rick Grimes," she said, and he nodded.

"Yeah, I am," he replied. She nodded, as if thinking to herself. Then she seemed to come to a decision. "Y'all should come in, at least for the night. It'll be gettin' late soon, and we got some decent food."

Beth met Jimmy's eyes, and he shrugged. Carl looked at Rick pleadingly. His stomach had stopped protesting at this point, it was so empty.

At last, Jimmy looked to Rick, and his son nodded. Jimmy met Amy's eyes. "We'd love to. Thanks."

They all got out of the car, and Amy walked in first, so the lookouts wouldn't be tempted to shoot first and ask questions later. They entered the building as were met with a disheveled young man that Rick recognized right away.

"Glenn!"

The man looked up from where he was inspecting Amy for injuries, and his face brightened. "Rick! Oh my God, what the heck are you doin' here?"

Rick shook his head. "Survivin', man. Just tryin' to survive. Found Amy out on the road, and asked her if she needed a ride. She invited us in for the night, if that's okay."

Glenn nodded. "Of course, that's fine." His eyes finally left the blood-covered girl and scanned the group before him. Then they swept the group again, more slowly this time. "Uh… Amy? Where's Andrea?"

At that, Amy burst into tears and fell to her knees. Beth dropped down beside her, and Rick moved forward to pull Glenn aside. "I dunno what happened, exactly, but… Amy said her sister is gone. I'm sorry."

Glenn's face became pained, and he swallowed harshly. "Oh. Fuck."

Beth looked up from where she was crouched next to the girl. "She's in shock. Glenn, is it? We need to get her lying down, and she's going to need fluids."

Glenn nodded quickly, and headed to the room at the of the hall. He returned less than a minute later with a couple of men, who both were unfamiliar to Rick. One of them, a man around Rick's age, with glasses and longish hair, fell down beside Amy and pulled her to an embrace. She didn't hug him back, but she did relax minutely into his arms.

The other man spoke with Glenn for a moment before turning to the group. He gave them a strained smile. "Hi, everyone. I'm John. I'm gonna show you where you can bunk down, and then where we eat. Can I get your names?"

Beth stood up from where she'd been crouched, but stayed close to Amy. "I'm Beth."

"Jimmy," Rick's dad said, and he reached forward and shook John's hand.

"That's Rick," Glenn said, "my friend from school. His eyes shifted to Carl. "Holy shit! Is that you, Carl? I haven't seen you in years, but damn, you've grown!"

Carl smiled uncomfortably and shrugged.

John nodded to them, and walked towards the room he'd exited from. Beth remained where she was. "I'm staying with Amy. I'll meet y'all later," she called, and them shooed Jimmy away when he offered to stay with her.

The men walked into a large room, and Rick saw Maggie sitting on a bunk bed near the entrance. She looked up as they came in, and she ran to Rick and embraced him. "Oh, Rick, it's so good to see you," she said as she pulled away. He hand automatically went to her belly, which wasn't as flat as the last time Rick had seen it.

Granted, it had been a few years ago, so there was always the possibility that she'd just gained weight, but still….

Rick decided not to ask. If he was wrong, he didn't want to incur the wrath of a woman.

"You, too, Maggie. You and Glenn all right? How did y'all make it here?" Rick asked. He waved his dad and brother along, not wanting to hold them up while he spoke.

"We ran out of gas, and started walking. Dale came by with his RV and picked us up. He already had a few people in there with him, others that he'd saved. Then that ran out of gas, and we stuck together. We found this place, and decided to fortify it and stay here," she said, and Rick's eyes widened at the familiar name.

"Dale? Dale Horvath?" he asked.

Maggie nodded before comprehension dawned. "That's right, Daryl bought his garage, didn't he? And he worked for him for years before that."

Rick's heart clenched at the sound of Daryl's name, but he answered with an even voice. "Yeah."

Maggie's expression changed to confusion and apprehension. "Where is Daryl?"

Rick shook his head. "We had to split up, and were supposed to meet up in Atlanta, but after the bombs went off…" He sighed. "Now, we're lookin' for he and Merle both, but no luck so far."

The sympathy on her face made Rick want to cringe. "I'm sorry, Rick. I'll try to help any way I can."

"Thanks. Listen, I better get to my family. I'll talk to you later, alright?"

Maggie smiled. "Okay. See you later."

Rick walked quickly to the other side of the room, where he saw his dad pulling clothing out of his bag and shaking the items out.

"I can't believe we'll have beds to sleep in," Jimmy said, pointing out the cots around them. Rick raised an eyebrow, and Jimmy shrugged, smiling. "Well, kinda."

Rick moved to one of the empty cots and put his bag down. He sat beside it, and rested his head in his hands, rubbing his face. "How long're we gonna stay here, Dad? I want to go out and look for Daryl, and I can do it around here just fine for a couple weeks, but sooner or later I'm gonna want to travel out and search farther than is feasible if I have to come back here every night."

Jimmy sat beside him on the cot, and placed his hand on Rick's shoulder, squeezing gently. "You know I wanna find Daryl, too, son. And I don't think you should stop, but let's just use this time, just for the next week or so, to get our bearings and maybe come up with a long-term plan. If you and I have to go out and search, and then set up camp for a few days because it's farther away from wherever we decide to plant roots, then so be it. We'll figure it out, alright?"

Rick nodded, and sighed. He trusted his Dad, probably more than he trusted anyone, and he knew that he would never give up on the search for Daryl.

They'd just have to figure it out as they went.

Over the next week, Rick realized that it was unlikely that they would leave anytime soon. At least, not without the group coming with them. It seemed that Andrea had been the leader, and now that she was dead, no one was willing to step up and take her place.

Now, people were coming to Jimmy with their problems, and he was unwilling to tell them to go somewhere else. Rick guessed that it was the nonprofit lawyer in him, but if there was a problem that his dad could fix, then there was no way he could turn his back on it. That was just against his nature.

Unfortunately, that also meant that the Grimes were more than likely stuck here.

Despite wanting to leave, Rick was glad to have found some people that he knew, since it meant they were still alive. He'd gone to greet Dale shortly after his conversation with his father on the first day. The man had shown great relief to see that Rick was still alive, but, of course, shared his worry over Daryl's fate. Rick didn't really want to talk about Daryl, and the possibility that he might not have survived this long, but felt he owed it to Dale, who'd always treated both of the Dixon brothers with respect and kindness.

Aside from Glenn, Maggie, Amy, Dale, and the man that showed them around, John, there were two other people in the group. Amy's boyfriend, a man named Tommy, was a former government employee who worked with computers. Rick didn't know much about the man, but he seemed a lot tougher than the average computer geek, in his opinion. At least, he'd adapted to this strange new world quickly enough to survive it so far.

There was also a girl named Aiden, who Amy, Tommy, and Andrea had found in an abandoned store on a run a week or so after the outbreak really hit. She didn't talk much, but Rick had learned that both of her parents had been killed. He figured she was around 17, and had long dark hair and pale skin. She had sad eyes, though, and he wondered if that was the case before a few weeks ago or if it was a recent development.

Beth was becoming more and more important everyday, as well. She was the only person with any medical training, and as a nurse she was helping the people who came down sick, and others who came back from runs with injuries.

No one had gotten bit in the days since the Grimes had joined the little group, but it was a fear that hovered over everyone. It was this fear that had Beth, Jimmy, and even Carl wanting to stick with the group. They felt there was safety in numbers.

Rick wasn't so sure. But he also didn't want to leave the group open to the walkers, and even he would admit that they were pretty fucking vulnerable right now. Their leader was dead, and as far as Rick could tell, they only had one person who was very good at runs: Glenn. And they weren't trying to teach everyone how to do everything, which seemed only logical when people were dying more and more easily.

Eight days after they stumbled upon the group, Rick and Glenn were on a run to gather more medical supplies, and Glenn asked him if his family was planning on staying.

Rick said yes. He saw no other outcome, to be honest. He knew his priorities were slightly different for his family, as they prized staying alive higher than finding Daryl. And Rick understood that.

But he couldn't say the same for himself.

Rick loved his family. He would die for them in a heartbeat, and he would give anything for them to be safe. Unfortunately, in this world, that was virtually impossible.

But Rick had been in love with Daryl since he was seventeen years old. He couldn't say that he would let himself die if Daryl had already been killed, because he had his family to live for. But he could honestly say that his motivation to stay alive would be gone.

Rick didn't have a life worth living if it didn't include Daryl. He had to find him.

Later that night, after Glenn and Rick brought Beth the supplies, Rick pulled his Dad aside to let him know he'd be starting his search again the next day.

Jimmy nodded, and didn't attempt to change his mind, which Rick appreciated. "Take the car, then. And ask Carl to come along. His arm is almost healed, and you could use the backup."

Rick agreed, and after Carl agreed to go with him, prepared the car for a few days' journey. They left early the next morning, just as the sun was coming up.

They headed for Atlanta.

Tensions in the quarry were rising, and Daryl was sick and fucking tired of it. Most of it had to do with either his brother or Walsh—and often both of them, as they couldn't go a day without squabbling over something.

To top it off, the old man, Hershel—Daryl could finally get his mind to stop calling him Principal Greene—was talking about leaving and trying to find his daughter, Maggie. Daryl hadn't seen her much since school, but he knew that Rick was still kind of friends with her and the kid she'd been with since high school. Glenn, he thought his name was.

Unfortunately, Hershel had no clue where Maggie might be, and he had slim to little chance of staying alive long enough to find her. There was not two ways to put it, so Daryl told him outright why he should stay put: he was fucking old.

"I'm aware of that, son," Hershel replied calmly, and Daryl's hands clenched into fists at the endearment. "But, you see, that's not necessarily a bad thing. I'm ready to meet the Lord whenever he sees fit to call me, but I want to at least try to find my daughter before that happens. If I get killed, but I never even lifted a finger to see her again, I could never forgive myself."

Daryl shook his head in exasperation. "You won't need no forgiveness, old man. You'll be dead. Just… stick around a while longer. We can't stay in this quarry forever. Sooner or later we'll have to leave, and maybe we can search for her, and everyone else we're missin', together."

Hershel's head cocked to the side, and Daryl grimaced at the curious look angled his way. "You know, Mr. Dixon, despite what you might've thought in high school, I was neither deaf nor blind. I knew that you and Mr. Grimes were an item. According to Rick's younger brother, you still were as of a few months ago, when last I spoke to him. Is that still true?"

Daryl studied the ground, and shifted uncomfortably. He nodded reluctantly, and looked up to meet Hershel's sympathetic gaze. "He wasn't…"

Daryl shook his head. "We got separated. My brother was in the woods, and his never came home from Atlanta, so…" He shrugged. "We were supposed to meet there, but, after what we saw…"

Hershel's' eyes widened. "You don't think he was there, when the bombs went off?"

Daryl's eyes narrowed, revealing his irritation. "If I knew that, I'd be a fuckin' psychic wouldn't I? I don't fuckin' know, okay? I left him, and now he's God knows where."

Hershel raised his hand in a calming fashion, and Daryl huffed out a breath like he was a bull, frustrated with the old man, and himself. Hell, he was pissed at the whole fucking situation.

"Look, Mr. Green, just… stay here, alright? We got others we're lookin' for, too. We'll have to leave at some point, and we'll try to find your daughter. But you don't stand much of a chance alone. There's safety in numbers at the end of the world."

Hershel gave him a wry smile, and nodded, temporarily appeased. Daryl knew this situation would come up again, with someone else if not with Mr. Greene, but he hoped they'd be on their way soon enough. He was ready to get searching fro Rick again, and he was fucking irritated at how long they'd been in one place.

He understood the false sense on security that staying in one place gave the city folks, but he had to start convincing them soon that it was time to move on. And the sooner, the better.

On his way to the lake, Daryl heard a yell, and his head jerked up and around to take in the scene before him. Walsh and Merle were at it again, and this time it looked like practically the whole group was crowded around to listen to them.

"—c'mon, Danielle, Jamie, you gotta admit that I'm right. I mean, the Dixon brothers?" Walsh was saying, and Daryl started over to them. This wasn't gonna end well. "Why the hell are we listenin' to a coupla mechanics in the first place?"

Merle snorted, his hands clenched in white fists and his jaw set. "Tha's righ'. We should listen to a washed up teacher who bullies his students and bones his boss instead," he replied, and Daryl knew he wouldn't make it in time.

Walsh jumped on his brother, and Lori screamed as his fist connected. Daryl ran, and heard Merle grunt as he got a punch to the stomach. Merle's knee came up, just missing Walsh's groin, and he used the man's evasive maneuver to shift his weight, causing Walsh to fall off of him. Merle straddled him and started to ram his clenched fists into the man's face.

The women in the group were yelling for them to stop, and Lori was crying uselessly. Ben and Coach Douglas were trying to pull Merle off, but were ineffective against the man's rage. Daryl saw Hershel making his way over just as he finally reached them. He grabbed his brother's arms and pulled him into a full nelson. Merle struggled, but at Daryl's low warning—"stop fightin' or I'll run over your bike with my truck"—Merle growled and desisted.

Daryl hauled him off of Walsh, who was bloody and cursing, but not seriously injured. Merle could've done a lot worse if he'd wanted to.

The Dixons walked away from the group, who were all watching Merle cautiously.

"Keep him on a fucking leash!" Walsh bellowed at Daryl, and to his surprise, Coach Douglas answered before Daryl could.

"You fucking started it, man, so watch your mouth. Don't antagonize people if you're not ready to face the consequences," he said calmly, and Walsh stared at him in shock. Well, shit. Guess he'd have to call him T-Dog then.

Lori glared at Daryl and Merle, then T-Dog, who shrugged at her. She knelt beside Walsh and started to wipe the blood off gently. "How could you say that? Merle was just as culpable, and he provoked Shane!"

T-Dog snorted. "Provoked, my ass. Told the truth is more like it." At Lori shocked, wide-eyed stare, the man rolled his eyes. "You forget I worked there, too?" He looked to Walsh. "I know how you treat the kids you don't like. And I know you're sleepin' with your boss." His eyes flickered to Lori and back to Walsh.

Danielle, who had been watching the entire exchange, cleared her throat. "Right, well. I'm glad that's out of y'all's systems, 'cause we have chores to do around here. Jamie, Janine, Carol? Will y'all help me gather the clothes to wash?" She shifted Ahser higher up on her back where he was seated. It was usually Daryl or Merle carting the boy around, but she'd given them a break earlier. That was a good thing, in hindsight, given the current situation.

The women joined her and walked away from the group. Danielle shot them one last exasperated look, Asher clutching her neck tightly as he looked at Daryl with wide, curious eyes.

Ben spoke up next. "I've got some meat to cook. T-Dog, want me to teach you how to use the grill?"

Daryl almost laughed at the half-assed excuse to get gossip, as the grill was the simplest fucking creation at camp. But T-Dog agreed enthusiastically, and they left as well. Hershel left next, not even bothering to make up an excuse.

Lori watched them leave, and then looked to Sophia, who seemed as if she was holding in a laugh. "Could you help him?"

Sophia moved forward, and knelt on his other side. She examined his face carefully, turning his face this way and that to assess the damage. Finished, she drew back and sighed. "Come on, Shane, let's get you some bandaids," she said with mock compassion, and Walsh sneered at her before getting to his feet and storming off. Lori shot her a glare before following after him.

Sophia turned towards Daryl and Merle, and when she met their eyes she burst into laughter. They couldn't help but crack smiles, as well.

"What a pussy," Merle muttered. "I pulled almost all o' my punches."

Sophia shook her head in amusement, still giggling, as she walked to her tent.

Daryl and Merle went to their corner of camp, settling in on the log in front of their tent. Daryl sighed. "You gotta ignore Walsh, man. I know he's a dumb fuck, but just walk away. We got enough fuckin' drama without havin' to start more."

Merle laughed. "Whatcha talkin' 'bout, Darlena? The fights is what keeps everyone entertained. It's harmless. What's out there," he pointed in the general direction of Atlanta, "that shit ain't. And me and Walsh fightin'? It gets their minds offa the fact that we might all die today. Y'know?"

Daryl studied the dirt under his feet, his stomach sinking. He understood what his brother was saying, and he hated to admit that it made sense. People were dying all the time, and they could be next.

Rick could be next.

He shook his head, and clapped Merle on the shoulder before standing and climbing into the tent.

Whether the group needed it or not, Daryl was tired of the fucking drama.

Daryl was in his tent later that night when he heard light footsteps crunching outside. Merle snorted in his sleep, but didn't wake. At first, he thought it might be a geek, but the steps were too light and even. He then quickly dismissed the idea that it was Asher, because the kid's footsteps barely made a noise unless he stepped on something that snapped.

He rose from his sleeping bag, and unzipped the tent to peek outside. He was met with the sight of Jamie, a hesitant and hopeful look on her face as she shifted on her feet in nervousness.

What the hell did she have to be nervous about? Daryl wasn't gonna bite her head off.

"Hey, Daryl," she said quietly, her eyes shifting inside the tent quickly before shifting back to him. "I didn't wake you, did I?"

Daryl shook his head and stepped fully out into the moonlight. "Nah. What's up?"

"Nothin', I just… wanted to talk to you about somethin'," she said, and Daryl sighed as her eyes moved to the tent again.

"Look, if this is about Merle, I've asked him to leave you alone. I know he's a pain in the ass, but he's harmless, alrigh'? He's all talk. I dunno what else you expect me to do—"

Jamie held up her hands to stop him. "No, no, that's not what this is about. I mean," she laughed a bit, "your brother is a pain in the ass, but that's not on you. I actually came out here to ask if you, well… if you have someone… waiting for you somewhere?"

Daryl's brow furrowed in confusion as she blushed a bright red. "What?"

Jamie studied her feet as if there was gospel written on the tops of her shoes. "After you saved me, I sort of… started to like you?" She said it like a question, and Daryl gazed at her, unsure of where this was going.

She looked up, and seeing his blank expression, rolled her eyes self-consciously. "Like you, like you, Daryl. And I've really grown to care about you in the last few weeks. I just- didn't know if you have someone, or, maybe, you're just not interested." Her eyes widened when comprehension dawned on Daryl's face. "I don't wanna make this weird, God, I'm so sorry. If you don't feel the same, it's fine, just, oh shit, I should go—"

"Jamie," Daryl cut her off abruptly, ending her babbling. She looked up at him apprehensively. "I'm not, I mean. It's not you, it's just." Daryl huffed out a breath, irritated with himself. "I have someone, and we got separated. But I'm still lookin', and… no. I'm sorry." He tried to make his tone as gentle as possible.

This was fucking weird. He'd never turned down someone nicely before. And Jamie was a good person, he felt bad for her, but shit, she'd only known him a few weeks, how much could this possibly hurt her?

He ignored the small voice in his head that reminded him of how fast he'd fallen for Rick.

A sympathetic expression crossed Jamie's face, and she looked like she was fighting the impulse to reach out and touch him. "I'm so sorry, Daryl. I hope you find her. Really."

Daryl didn't bother to correct her. He just nodded his thanks, and watched her walk away, ensuring that she got safely back to the tent that she shared with Danielle and the kid before climbing back into his own.

He stretched out on his sleeping bag and closed his eyes, but they shot back open when he heard a chuckle beside him.

"You sure are popular 'round here, Darlena. Apocalypse is good for your sex life, huh?" Merle said, and Daryl turned his back on him.

"Shut the fuck up, Merle," he muttered, and his brother fell silent, realizing he'd hit a sore spot.

Neither one said anything else before they both fell asleep.

The next day, the tension seemed to have broken between most of the members of the group. Jamie had taken Daryl's rejection in stride, and wasn't treating him any differently, which was a bit of a relief if he were being honest with himself.

Most everyone steered clear of Walsh, as no one wanted to deal with his loud mouth. Everyone except Lori, anyway, who hovered around him as if she thought she could stop him from fighting anymore.

It was Daryl's turn to cart the kid around for a few hours, so he used the time to gather wood for the group. He only went a couple yards into the trees, not far enough to be vulnerable to attacks. He was bending down to gather a bunch of branches when the kid started his chatting.

"Hey, Mr. Dixon, how many squirrels have ya killed? A lot, I bet. Did ya hafta kill ta eat 'fore all the people started tryin' ta eat each other? Did ya ever hafta kill one o' those things? I heard tha' ya killed some ta save Auntie Jamie before, is tha' true? Is is hard ta kill one? Can you teach me? I think I'd wanna throw a knife at it, that way it can't get me, and—"

"Kid," Daryl said through his laughter. "Dunno how y'expect me to answer a question if you keep askin' more."

"Sorry, Mr. Dixon!" the kid squeaked, and Daryl shook his head in amusement. Kid was too chatty for his own good.

Daryl took his time answering the kid's questions one by one, trying to teach the kid patience, and probably failing spectacularly. He decided to ask Danielle if he could teach the kid to throw a knife after his ankle healed. It was better if the kid could at least defend himself a bit if he ever had to. Daryl and the others would try their best to protect him, like always, but you could never know what was gonna happen.

After they—or Daryl, really—carried the wood back to camp, Daryl walked over to Danielle, who was hanging the washed laundry up to dry. She smiled as he approached.

"Hope he's not causin' too much trouble," she said, looking at Asher, who grinned at her happily.

"Nah, he's alrigh'. Listen, Danielle, I wanted to ask you a question, but I think it's best I ask you when you're alone," he replied, jerking his head at the kid. Her eyes widened, and she nodded.

"Asher, honey, could you sit inside with Aunt Jamie for a moment, please?" she asked, and the kid let out a whine.

"But, Momma, we're gettin' firewood!" he pouted, and Daryl snorted in amusement.

"Asher, it'll only take a minute, and then you can be with Mr. Dixon again, okay?"

The little boy huffed, but agreed, and Daryl stepped inside the tent to drop him off with Jamie. She smiled at him before turning her attention to her nephew.

Daryl exited the tent and sighed.

"What is it, Daryl? Is something wrong? Did Asher do something?" Danielle asked worriedly.

Daryl thought he might've figured out where the kid got his lightening-fast questions from. "Nothin's wrong, just had a question, and didn't want the kid to hear in case you said no. I was thinkin' I could teach the kid to throw a knife in case he ever needed to defend himself against a geek. After his ankle heals, of course."

Danielle looked shocked, and her face creased in thought. "D'you really think that's necessary? He's only a kid! I don't want him handling weapons, it's not safe."

Daryl met her eyes seriously. "The world's not safe. And he can handle a weapon if he knows that it's not a toy. I've had a knife on me in the woods since I was younger than him. And he'd know it was only for an emergency. You just never know what's gonna happen, if he'd ever get separated from the group, or if, God forbid, he's the last one standin' after a fight. I just want him to be as prepared as he can be."

A heavy weight seems to settle on Danielle's shoulders, and she focused her attention on the tent, as if she could see her son through the material. Then she looked at Daryl, met his eyes.

"God, this sucks," she said candidly, and Daryl laughed in surprise.

"You got that right," he replied.

"Okay," she said reluctantly. "If it was anyone else askin', I'd call them crazy and tell them no way, but… you haven't led me, or any of us, wrong, and I trust you to do right by my boy." Her eyes were large and trusting, and Daryl found that he was uncomfortable with the pressure of being the one she looked to for guidance. "Thank you."

Daryl nodded, and turned to get Asher from the tent. When he saw the boy's happy face, he figured it was worth being uncomfortable to keep the kid safe.

To keep everyone safe.

That night after dinner, Carol sat next to Daryl around the fire. Merle and Ben were on watch, but Daryl's eyes were scanning the trees before he looked to the woman perched next to him. She smiled as he met her steady blue gaze.

"Hey, Daryl," she said quietly, and he nodded at her and bumped her shoulder with his in greeting. He hadn't had much chance to talk to her in a while, but he wasn't worried about her taking it personally. They'd always been close, and she probably knew he'd been distracted.

She grinned at him. "I spoke with Jamie earlier."

Daryl groaned. Fantastic.

Carol's light laughter forced a smile out of Daryl, despite the fact that she was most likely laughing at him. "You've always had somethin' about you, I have to admit. If you and Rick weren't so perfect for each other, I might've gone after you myself."

Daryl snorted. Carol's eyes were bright as she reveled in the fact that she actually got him to lighten up. It wasn't easy to do nowadays.

"How're you holdin' up?" she asked, her expression sobering.

Daryl shrugged, and dug the toe of his boot into the dirt. "Same as always, I guess." He studied the laces of his shoe. "Missin' him. Like fuckin' crazy."

Carol's hand found his arm and squeezed gently. "I know."

Daryl sighed harshly. "I just, I feel like I ain't doin' shit, you know? I should be out there, searchin' for him. But, I'm just sittin' here, and he could be—"

"Hey, don't do that," she said firmly. "If you knew where to look, or, hell, if you even had an inkling where he could be, I know you'd be outta here faster than we could see. In the meantime, Daryl, you're keepin' us safe. That's not nothin'. You might not wanna hear it, but you're pretty much the leader of this group. We trust you. And you deserve it."

She waited until he met her eyes before continuing. "You give me the word, and we'll pack up and move on, try to find somewhere else to settle down, and look for Rick while we're doin' it."

Daryl nodded, thankful for her honesty. He didn't deserve her trust, but he was damn glad to have it. "Maybe after the kid heals. I'd be worried about him bein' too vulnerable 'til then. He can't even run."

Carol smiled softly. "And that's what makes you our leader." She patted his arm where her hand still rested on it. "Get some sleep, Dixon. I can tell you're itchin' to get outta here for a few days. And don't worry, I'll keep an eye on your brother."

Daryl grinned sheepishly. She always could read him well. Better than anyone except Rick.

"Thanks," he muttered, and she grinned and watched him walk to his tent.

Daryl woke early the next morning, crossbow strapped across his back, and made for the center of camp, where Ben and Janine were preparing breakfast.

"I'm headin' out. Gonna hunt for a few days," he said, and Janine smiled at him warmly.

"Alrigh', Daryl. You be careful, y'hear? No deer is worth your life," she said, and had the grace to turn around to the meat cooking behind her when Daryl's cheeks reddened.

Ben gazed at him curiously. "Hey, Daryl? D'you think you'd be able to show me how to, you know, hunt? I wanna contribute anyway I can, and if anything were to, well," he stammered to a stop, and Daryl held up a hand to assure him he hadn't said anything wrong.

"If somethin' were to happen to Merle and me, you wanna make sure someone else can hunt. Nothin' wrong with that," he finished for him, and Ben nodded at him, jaw set in determination. Daryl looked him over appraisingly, and shrugged. "When I get back, I'll take you and maybe T if he wants, alrigh'? Meantime, maybe Merle can show you how to throw a knife or clean a kill. And don't take nothin' he says personal, he's all hot air. Just ask him. Sound good?"

Ben gave him a grateful smile, and thanked him. Daryl waved him off before heading to the woods.

Three days later, Daryl walked into camp, and wished he'd come back sooner. If he had, he'd never have let Merle leave.

The group practically pounced on him when he got back to give him the news. His brother and Walsh went on a run to Atlanta together, apparently to get supplies. Daryl was dumbfounded; what the hell was Merle thinking, going with Walsh? At best, they'll argue the whole way there and back, and get squat accomplished.

At worst, they'll get each other killed.

"Why the hell are they tryin' a run now?" Daryl asked Lori, who looked as nervous about the men's trip as he felt.

"It was Shane's idea. We're about outta canned goods, and he said we should go to Atlanta, stock up. There're so many stores there," she replied.

"Yeah, and a fuckton of geeks to go along with 'em, probably," Daryl spat. "Why did Merle go with him? And why just the two of them?"

Ben put in his two cents. "Merle figured that if fewer people went in, they could get in and out more quickly, and with less confrontation." He sighed. "And when Shane brought up the idea of Atlanta, he implied that know one would have the balls to go with him. Merle couldn't resist the challenge."

"Fuck," Daryl muttered, pressing two fingers against the bridge of his nose, a habit he'd picked up from Rick. "Dumb bastard."

Hershel patted him on the shoulder, and ignored Daryl's flinch. "He'll be alright, son. They both will. We just have to have faith."

Daryl shook his head.

They'd need a lot more luck than faith.

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