Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead.
A/N: I want to thank all of my reviewers: what., wtldr, JoanieNobody, dragoness0420, synesthesiac, and Jac Denvers. I'd also like to thank all of you who have added this to your story alert list, your favorite stories, and me to your favorite authors!

I'm curious...what do you guys think Callie looks like?

CHAPTER EIGHT: CONTAINMENT

After dinner had wrapped up, Merle told me to go back to the van, that he would be bringing Daryl in a bit so the three of us could talk. I told him that I was going to help clean up first and he shrugged.

"Suit yourself," He said before grabbing his shotgun and walking off with Glenn to do a patrol. Merle was still a racist bastard (I caught him telling T-Dog to keep away from him, and from me) but he was learning to tolerate the others. I told him after the episode with T-Dog that he had better change his attitude quick otherwise they wouldn't hesitate to leave him again and if they did, I would be going with them. Merle didn't respond initially but had made an effort to change how he acted. The first step he took involved getting on better footing with Glenn. Merle was working up to dealing with T-Dog and I made him promise that he wouldn't without someone around. I watched him walk away, the shot gun nestled against his shoulder, and couldn't help but smile. I waited until he was within the tree line before helping Dale and Carole clean up. Carl and Sophie were playing off to the side, quietly, and Rick, Shane, and Lori were plotting in the corner.

I used a rag to clean off the spit that Daryl had used to roast the squirrel, Dale and Carole worked together to get all the dishes into a bucket to be washed. It was all done very quickly, even with Andrea and T-Dog just sitting to the side and not helping. Daryl had scampered off to look after the deer so the camp site was rather quiet.

"So Callie," Andrea started with a grin. I sighed and looked over at her. It wasn't going to stay quiet for long. "I thought nothing was going on between you and Merle,"

"Things change," I shrugged. Andrea scoffed and shook her head.

"She's right," Carole finally spoke up. Since I met her, I had only heard her say a handful of words. "Things do change," I mouthed 'thank you' in her direction and she tilted her head. I liked Carole.

"What happened in the van earlier?" Andrea asked. She sat down beside me and helped me to clean the spit. "And if you say nothing, I'm smacking you. I saw enough to know it wasn't 'nothing',"

"You were watching us?" I gaped at her. That was...there were no words.

"In case you haven't noticed, there isn't much going on around here," Carole said. She sat down on my other side and took the cleaned spit from me.

"You were watching too?" I asked. Carole nodded; she and Andrea shared a look. They at least had the decency to look chagrined at being caught. I shook my head and looked back to the task at hand. There was a stubborn bit of squirrel that just wasn't coming off so I took my frustration out on that.

"It looked like you were having fun," Andrea said teasingly. I blushed and tried to ignore her. "That is, before you guys shut yourself off from the world. We had a bet going on how long it would be before the van started rocking but Shane screwed that up," I handed the spit, still with squirrel bits hanging off of it, to Carole and excused myself. I hurried back to the van, desperate to escape "girl talk", and didn't pay attention to where I was going. I ran right into someone who reacted faster than I could and grabbed my shoulders before I could fall over. I looked, ready to thank who ever it was and paused when I saw it was Daryl.

"You should watch where you're going," He snapped, but didn't let go of my shoulders until I brushed his hands away.

"Sorry, and thank you for keep me from falling on my ass," I said stiffly. He didn't make a move to go and I didn't particularly feel like being the one who ran away so we stood there, staring at each other. I put my hands on my hips, trying to appear a tad more intimidating and Daryl crossed his arms, obviously not that intimidated by me. I took the moment to look over Daryl; he certainly was Merle's brother. Both of them were built from hard work and both of them had odd, square faces that a person in the pre-walker world would never call handsome. But, in the walker infested world, both of them were tough and steady, the ones who were going to out-live, out-think, and out-kill the others. Why the rest of the group was so set on pushing the Dixon's away I didn't know, they should be giving the power over to them. "Is that a tattoo?" My eyes zeroed in on his bicep. There was a tattoo, mostly on the underside of his arm but his stance had pushed part of it up so it was visible.. I had a tattoo that no one had seen yet and just the fact that Daryl had a tattoo made me think of him a little differently.

"Yeah. So what?" Daryl scowled at me.

"Just curious. What is it of?" I asked in an attempt to make some small talk.

"None of your damn business," Daryl snapped, brushing past me and stomping off.

"Fine," I muttured to myself and went back to the van. I climbed inside and busied myself with getting everything better for bed. I lit the lantern, re-organized the clothes that I had just organized the day before, and rearranged parts of the van. I stowed more things beneath the cot and stacked others in the corner; if we ever started moving again I would have to adjust them but as of that moment, we weren't going anywhere. I was making the cot when Merle hoisted himself up into the van followed by Daryl. I smiled at Merle and greeted him brightly and gave Daryl a less enthusiastic hello.

"You two are gonna work out whatever's between ya. I gotta help with some planning," Merle said. Daryl and I both protested loudly and Merle ignored us. "I'm gonna be a couple of minutes, get your shit together while I'm gone," He grabbed his pack of navigation related items from under the passenger seat and hopped out of the van. Daryl and I stood there awkwardly, not wanting to look at each other. I moved to finish making the cot and to my surprise, Daryl helped me out by straightening the blanket at the foot of the bed.

"Do you want to sit down?" I offered. Daryl nodded and sat at the end of the bed and I sat down near the head of the bed. "Why don't you like me?"

Daryl rolled his shoulders and leaned back. "'S gonna sound stupid when I say it,"

"Trust me when I say that it's pretty damn stupid right now," I replied sharply. Daryl glared at me.

"He ain't the same Merle, alright?" Daryl said with a definite edge in his voice.

"And you're blaming me?"

"Since he's got back I haven't gotten to spend any time with him. You know why? Because he's too wrapped up in you," Daryl explained. He leaned forward resting his elbows on his knees and looked at his clasped hands while he talked.

"You two have spent plenty of time together," I pointed out, a bit confused. Merle had made a point of spending time with Daryl. I saw them together all the time, talking as they skinned squirrels (as Daryl did, Merle couldn't now) or as they walked.

"Ain't the same. He's always got you on his mind," Daryl shook his head and let out a bitter laugh. "Leave it to Merle to fall in love during the apocalypse," I froze at Daryl's last sentence. Merle couldn't possibly love me, we had only known each other a week. I told Daryl as much and he just shrugged. "Didn't say it made sense," Rubbing his hands over his face Daryl turned his body to face me. "Help me butcher the deer tomorrow,"

"Why?" The offer came out of no where and I couldn't stop my kneejerk reaction.

"Gotta make the effort to get to know you better, I owe it to Merle," Daryl stuck out his hand for me to shake. "Truce?"

"Truce. For Merle," I shook Daryl's hand once and pulled back. Daryl stood up abruptly and made his way out of the van, calling good night to me over his shoulder. I returned the sentiment and gathered my night clothes. The front part of the cab had been seperated into a changing space, complete with blanket to cover the portal between it and the carrier so I moved in there to change. I was still wearing the light night shift I had gotten from the couple's home but had always made sure that Merle never saw me in it fully. The fabric was well worn and more than a bit see through and I wasn't quite ready to go to that level with Merle. I had been earlier but Daryl's comment had brought everything back into focus. Only a week, no more. I peeked around the curtain and, seeing that Merle still wasn't back yet, I dark to the cot and burrowed my way beneath the freshly tucked blankets. Merle liked to sleep closer to the van wall but since I got into bed first that meant that I got to. I got comfortable in the bed, keeping one eye out for Merle the whole time. Even though I felt a whole lot safer with Merle I wasn't going to let my guard down. Eventually, Merle came back to the van and rolled the door shut. I turned on my side and watched him move about the small space for a bit. The silence was quite comfortable and neither one of us felt the need to break it until Merle started stripping in the cabin. I squeaked and rolled over, covering my eyes with my hand. I heard Merle laughing behind me; I heard his shirt hit the floor, the rattle of his belt buckle and the grinding of his zipper being lowered. The jeans were flopped on the floor along with his heavy boots. For one hysterical moment I thought that he was going to climb into bed naked but then I heard the sound of fabric being pulled against skin. "Please tell me you're putting on pajamas,"

"What if I wasn't?"

"Then I'm sleeping in the cab," The cot dipped behind me and Merle slid against my back. No shirt. "I thought I said-"

"-I'm wearing pants. Cool it," Merle draped his arm over my waist like he it had always belonged there. I wriggled, a bit uncomfortable with the contact. "Something the matter?"

"I'm not used to people touching me when I go to bed," I confessed, trying to wiggle out of his grip. Merle tightened his arm and pulled me closer.

"Get used to it, I ain't stopping,"

"Merle, I'm serious," I pulled his arm away from my body and slid over and flipped so my back was against the cool side of the van. The lantern was still lit and I could make out the annoyed look on his face. "Not tonight,"

"All I want to do is hold ya," Merle tried to reason with me but I shook my head. Too soon. It had been different when we were just there to help with nightmares. It was all changed now that we had kissed; us sleeping in the same bed was different and him holding me was different. "Whatever," Merle growled and rolled over, turning his back to me. He reached over the side of the cot and turned off the lanter. Darkness fell over us and an uneasy quiet.

"I'm sorry Merle, I just-"

"Go to sleep Callie," He said tensely. I placed a hand against his back and he tensed up. Merle's skin was always so warm and the muscles just beneath the surface rippled slightly. We needed that contact to go bed, I had found over the past couple of days. Merle conceded and rolled over, catching my hand with his. He pushed my hand back to me and rolled over again, facing away from me. I huffed; if he wanted to act so childishly, fine. I rolled over too, making a note to shake the bed as much as possible before settling down as far away from him as the small space allowed. We laid there that way for God knows how long, neither of us falling asleep. Finally, Merle turned around and rested his stump lightly on my hip. I smiled into the pillow and we settled in to sleep.

The morning came too soon and for once, Merle was up and gone before I had woken up. I blinked in the sunlight that streamed through the open door to the back of the van and rubbed a hand over my face.

"Git up," A voice snapped from the entrance of the van. I looked over in the direction of the command and saw Daryl standing there, arms crossed. I blinked at him and pulled the blanket closer to my body.

"Scoot so I can get dressed," I waved my hand at him in the age old shooing motion. Daryl turned around but didn't walk off. Figuring that was probably the best I was going to get, I wrapped the blanket around me and gathered my outfit for the day (a jumpsuit, curteousy of the old couple as well) and stumbled to the cabin to get changed.

"Hurry up in there!" Daryl shouted to me just as I was shoving one leg into the jumpsuit.

"Hold your horses!" I shouted right back. I stuffed my feet in a pair of work boots and laced them up, I walked out then, still buttoning the front of the jumpsuit. Daryl turned to say something but stopped when he saw that I was still getting dressed, his face turned an interesting shade of pink and he turned around quickly. I scoffed and finished buttoning my jumpsuit, ran a brush through my wild hair, and stuffed a baseball cap onto my head. "Alright, I'm ready," Daryl nodded and wouldn't look at me as he lead me over to where we would be butchering the deer.

"You ever butchered something before?" He asked, pulling out a kit full of knives. Daryl plucked two from the others and handed me one.

"No, I haven't,"

"It ain't hard, just do what I do," Daryl knelt beside the deer and pulled back the skin he had already loosened. My stomach churned but I forced the sensation away. I watched him make long, smooth cuts, seperating long strips of meat from the carcas. "See?"

I nodded and knelt on the opposite side of the deer and tried to mimic his movements. My hand shook a little so the initial cut was uneven and when my knife hit sinew I couldn't cut through it. Daryl came around to sit beside me and talked me through cutting through the sinew without damaging the meat around it. When I still couldn't (I was scared of screwing up so I wasn't trying very hard) Daryl inserted his knife right beside mine and, with a quick flick of the wrist, cut through the sinew.

"You can't be afraid of it," Daryl said and told me to keep going. It turns out that Daryl was a competant instructor and pretty soon we were butchering together instead of him watching me and telling me what to do. It took a while for conversation to get going, Daryl wasn't much of a talker so I did most of the chatting but I did learn a couple of things from Daryl like Merle had practically raised him, that he hated sauerkraut (for reasons unknown), and that he broke his leg more than once doing "some stupid shit". It was so obvious that he and Merle were related and, even though I had spent more time with Merle, it was pretty obvious that Daryl was the more responsible, brains of the operation one between them. Daryl told me that he wanted to build a rain catcher for fresh water but they never settled down long enough for him to and he hunted with a crossbow, silent but perfect for killing. Merle was more obvious, shot guns and running walkers over and thought mostly in the short run.

"That it?" I looked over at the now bare carcas and Daryl nodded. My hands felt gross and sticky but at least the meat had been harvested. T-Dog took the butchered meat to pack away or cure so Daryl and I could clean up. Working together we pulled the deer's body into the woods, having to drag it a long ways so that it was a safe distance away from the camp. Daryl had brought a shovel with him and we took turns digging a hole to drop the body in. The grave made, we shoved the body into it and kicked the dirt back in. We stomped on the newly packed dirt, making sure it covered the body solidly, and went to the stream that ran about a mile away from the camp to wash up. I had shoved a bar of soap into my pocket before we had started and fished it out so we could be as sanitary as we could get. Daryl waded into the river, scrubbing at his pants which had gotten deer bits all over them and I sat on a rock by the water's edge, trying to clean my hands. "You're a really good teacher, you know,"

"Thanks," Daryl muttered, moving on from scrubbing his pants to his shirt. He frowned at his shirt and scrubbed harder, the blood wasn't coming out. "You're a good student," I smiled at him and tossed him the bar of soap. My hands were as clean as they were going to get. Daryl applied to soap to his shirt furiously and cursed when the spot still wouldn't come out.

"Here, give me your shirt. I'll get the spot out while you wash up," I waded into the water beside him and held out my hand expectantly. Daryl looked at me skeptically and didn't comply. I wiggled my hand impatiently. "Come on, we don't want it drying,"

"Thought you were with Merle,"

I rolled my eyes. "I'm offering to clean your shirt, not a hand job in the middle of the forest," Daryl scoffed at my wording and shrugged his shirt off. "Thank you," I took the shirt from him and went back to my rock. Instead of sitting on the rock, I scrubbed the shirt against it, trying to work out the deer blood. It came out partially but it was better than nothing. He'd have to boil it later to disinfect it. "Do you want to put it back on or would you rather it dried first?"

"Just give it here," Daryl splashed back over to me and took his shirt back. He slung it over his shoulder and helped me out of the stream. I rubbed the soap with a leaf to dry it off and tucked it back into my pocket. "You ain't so bad," Daryl admitted as we walked back to camp.

"Right back at ya. So, what about that tattoo?" I could make out the design clearly, a start black, tribal design.

"Got it to piss off my old man," Daryl held up his arm for me to see it better. It was good work, who ever did it knew what they were doing. "You got any?"

"One," I touched my rib cage just below my left breast. "For my abuela after she died. It's the Lord's prayer in Spanish,"

"In Spanish? Funny, you don't look Mexican," Almost the same exact words as Merle but they had a different feeling. Merle's had been tinged with racism and disgust, Daryl's were curious, almost innocent.

"I was adopted," I explained. Daryl helped me over a fallen log without losing his step and we kept walking. "I think my biological parents had French ancestory, but I'm not certain," Daryl looked me over with a critical eye.

"You look French," He agreed.

"Thanks for teaching me how to butcher a deer," I said as we approached camp. Daryl waved it off and excused himself to see to the preservation of the meat. I sought out Dale for something to do, and he put me to work right away. I helped him work on the RV. Looking up from securing a hose I caught Merle's eye. He gave me a wink and a smile and I saluted him with a grease covered hand. Whatever had happened last night had blown over, thank god. He was all I had here, though that was changing pretty quick. Andrea, Lori and Carole had all become like sisters to me, Dale like a father, and Shane like the skeezy guy everyone called uncle but who wasn't actually related to anyone. My twisted, strange family.