"He's still asleep, you have to be quieter, Carl." The little boy's voice reached through Daryl's conscience and shook him out of sleep.

"I'm being quiet. You're the one that wanted to come ask him if he'd teach you how to hunt."

"Yeah but my mom will tan my hide if she thinks I woke him up. She says he needs to sleep because as soon as he finds out he's able to walk he'll be running out into the woods again."

"What does your mom take such good care of him for anyway?"

"I don't know. She said that he's a real good man and he used to mean a lot to her."

"Is it like my mom and Shane? He saved her life so they were friends but now they're not."

"No. Everything happened before the walkers came. It's weird that Mom likes him. She usually hates guys."

"Because of your daddy?"

"No. She says my daddy was a really good man. He just couldn't love her so she had to leave when she found out she was going to have me. She says that when I'm old enough she'll tell me more about him."

"Do you know anything about him?"

Daryl wanted to reveal himself. He wanted to open his eyes and tell the little boys to go away and let him fucking sleep. But he didn't. He lay there in silence so he could hear what DJ was going to say about his dad.

"I know that she loved him a whole lot and she said that my daddy was the only man she'll ever love."

That stung Daryl. She was with him for three years. They'd never said that they loved each other but he thought she loved him. He cared a lot about her. They just never said it.

"She said that I'm a lot like him sometimes. Stubborn and stuff."

"Did you ever ask her what his name is?"

"No, but I think he has the same name as Daryl."

"Why?"

"Because I have the same name as Daryl. Mom said not to tell him though. We should get out of here before she comes up to check on him. He'll probably be up by tomorrow. I can ask him then."

"Is it weird sharing the same tent as him? Shane used to say that Daryl's dangerous because you never know what he's going to do."

"Not really. When he was in the tent, he wasn't mean. He's just quiet and Mom says that he's only ever really mad at her, so just to ignore anything he says."

"Oh. Well, come on. Maybe we can get Shane to teach us some more shooting today."

Daryl lay awake long after the boys left the room and thought about DJ. He couldn't believe Georgia had named her fucking son after him. After everything she did, having his own baby cut out of her and leaving him like she did, she still gave her son his name. When she came in, he sat in silence while she checked him and gave him food. He didn't need to open his mouth because if he did, he'd just yell at her about her son. She didn't say anything either. She didn't need to. She could tell he was pissed and she didn't want to question it. She just took care of him and left.

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His arms were around her tight, the bottle of beer in his left hand resting against the cleft of her ass as his hands were clasped on her back. Her head was on his shoulder and she was nuzzling his neck gently with her nose. It was driving him insane as they swayed back and forth to the soft song playing on her stereo. He groaned, "Ya gotta stop, Georgia Rayne. Drivin' me up the wall an I can' be doin' nothin'."

"Why not?"

"Won' be ruinin' yer prom night by tryin' to mess 'round wit ya. Seen those movies. Ain't gonna be the guy that forces the girl into anything."

"It's not forcing, Daryl. I want you."

Her voice in his ear, the feel of the tingling hot breath on his skin, it drove him crazy and he leaned down to capture her mouth with his. Her hands slid up his chest and tightened around his dress shirt. She began pulling him towards the couch and he pulled away long enough to shake his head. He murmured, "Not here. Yer room."

They didn't speak as Georgia grabbed his hand and pulled him up the stairs to her room. In the room, lit only by the moonlight coming in through the window, she reached behind her and unclasped the straps of her dress that hung around her neck. She said softly, "Unzip me, Dare."

His fingers shook as he grasped the tiny little zipper on that dress and slid it down slowly, exposing more and more of her skin to him. Her softly darkened skin glowed a shimmering gold in the moonlight and while his fingers traced over the velvet flesh, she reached up to remove the pins from her long, wavy chestnut hair so that it would cascade over her shoulders and across his hands. While he smoothed his fingers through the silken locks, she slid the dress down away from her torso and let it pool at her feet.

"Yer sure, Georgia Rayne?" he whispered against the back of her neck.

"Of course I am, Daryl."

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"Daryl, do you want to move back into the tent tonight or stay in this room?" Her skin still felt like velvet. He hated that it was his first thought when he woke up to her hand on his forehead. She was hovering over him again. The late afternoon sunlight coming through the window lit up her face and her dark hair was pulled away from it in a loose bun that didn't capture every wisp. She had a smear of dirt across her right cheekbone and he stared at it, wondering how it got there.

"Come on, Daryl. Hershel said you've only had one Vicodin. You can't be this out of it. I need your answer so I know if I'm moving you tonight or not. It's starting to get dark out." She was tired. He could hear it in her voice and it made him wonder what she'd been doing all day. She'd been in and out of his room, taking care of him, but he knew that wasn't it. Georgia never had just one task.

"Tent." One word satisfied her and she nodded.

"Well you can get up out of bed on your own then while I find your jeans."

"Jeez, woman, lil bit a bedside manner goes a long way, ay?"

"Daryl," she hissed between gritted teeth, "I just had a thirty minute conversation with Lori about how much she misses air conditioning because 'it's just so hot,' while I slaved over a hot stove. And afterwards, I did dishes, using water I boiled over a fire. So I'm a little tense."

"Ya don' like Lori much."

"It's not my place to say anything, Daryl. I was welcomed here by these people and I'll be damned if I bitch too much about it. Now come on. I have to get you into the tent, not hit Andrea, make sure DJ washes off a little bit of the grime he's gathered, and hang laundry to dry before the night is over."

"Never heard any o' the other woman havin' to do so much," Daryl commented as he sat up in bed and watched Georgia's ass as she bent over.

"I'm going to earn my keep around here and I'm going to keep my son mildly appropriate while I do it."

The mention of her son brought the conversation he'd overheard earlier rushing back to his mind. He stared at her while she moved around the room quickly, gathering up his clothes. He asked gruffly, "Yer boy, what's his name mean?"

"What do you mean?" She avoided his gaze as she lay his clothes on the bed next to him.

"DJ. What's it mean?"

"He's named after my dad. James. Dad always loved him a lot. He took so many pictures of me when I was pregnant that it was almost ridiculous. I still have both of my photo albums. Seems a little weird now, carrying those around, but I do it for him."

"Right." It wasn't missed by Daryl how she avoided part of the question and it put him in a bad mood. He yanked his clothes on, ignoring the tightness in his side and the ache that came from it, and stood up quickly to buckle his jeans. Georgia's eyes scraped over him quickly before she looked towards the door. When he was dressed, she moved to his side to help him and he swatted at her easily. "Git, Georgia. Ain't needed yer help before. Don' need it now."

"Daryl, don't be an ass. Let me help you to the tent so I can do the other stuff I have to do tonight."

"No. Don' need yer damn help."

She stared at him with her hands on her hips for a long second before she slowly moved closer. He demanded, "Whatchu doin', ya hateful woman?"

She moved until she was flush against him and stared up into his eyes. He stared back down at her, beginning to feel nervous. He knew Georgia could be downright mean when she wanted to be. She demanded, "Are you going to let me help you, Daryl Dixon?"

"No, fuck off, Georgia."

He should have known as soon as she moved, what she was going to do. She ran her hand up his side and applied quick pressure to his wound, making his knees weaken under him. She caught him as his knees gave out and she held onto him tightly. She growled, "Thought you'd see it my way. Come on now, stupid. We're going to the tent."

"Fuckin' hate ya."

"And I'm going to give you really good reason if you don't cooperate."

With minimal help from him, she managed to get him outside and partway across the yard, to the amusement of everybody who watched with smirks on their faces as Daryl cussed her and she cussed him right back. DJ and Carl watched DJ's mother with curious, confused expressions. Finally, she made it to the tent and kicked the flap open. She dropped him on his cot easily and warned, "You will sleep in a sleeping bag tonight, or I will break my foot off in your ass."

"Don' fuckin' threaten me, Georgia."

She turned on her heel and stormed out of the tent as Andrea entered the tent with a book. Georgia stormed over to DJ and ordered, "Shower, now, young man."

"Mom, it's only like seven o'clock. Don't make me shower yet," DJ whined.

"No. Shower now."

"Come on, Georgia. He and Carl are playing," Shane joined in.

Georgia turned to him and glared. She tried to reign in her temper but it snapped when Daryl yelled from the tent, "Let yer boy be dirty, Georgia!"

"Shut the fuck up, Daryl! I'm not dealing with your shit right now."

She turned to her son and leveled him with a gaze that could freeze the blood in a person's veins. He sighed and walked towards the house. She looked at Shane and Shane stared back at her, his dark eyes studying her with a death glare. He hated it when people didn't listen to him. He always thought he knew best. She turned away from him and stomped back over to Daryl's camping area so she could grab the basket of wet laundry left by his tent. Her back ached as she lifted it and pulled it over to the line to hang in sullen silence. She sighed at the pain in her back and went to the tent to check on Daryl. He was looking over a book sullenly and glared at her when she peeked in the tent. She muttered, "Not one ounce of fucking gratitude around here."