Thanks everyone for reading and especially reviewing. FanFicGirl10, psychovampgurl: The last conversation with them is probably my favorite part, I had a lot of fun with that, and humor is one of the toughest things to sneak into my stories, so I'm happy that you liked it!

JTellersOldLady: Thank you for the review! Ali and Daryl are almost to the point where they can trust each other I think, and I have it in my head that Emma has a real soft spot for Daryl. She's a tough kid but I think she sees that in him as well. They're kindred spirits you could say, haha.

Emberka2012- Emma is tricky huh? Haha, and I LOVED writing in the guitar part. One of the nicest things he could have done for both of them.

FuchsiaGrasshopper: I love that you see Emma and Daryl that way, because that's exactly what I thought going into it. Even on the show Daryl doesn't seem to have his guard up around kids, those walls that keep him from being close to people aren't there when it comes to children. Seems like the kind of guy that would make a great Dad huh? Thanks for continuing to read and review!

X23Maximoff: LOL thank you for the review, their saucy time is coming! I give you a little taste of it in this chapter anyway, and I really hope I don't disappoint as the story proceeds. Yeah, and Daryl is always fun to write. I try to show both sides of him because you're right, he is THAT guy you know? A big softie underneath all that tough exterior. Thank you for the review and I hope you keep reading!

So here's my update, ENJOY!

Chapter Nine

Ali: three weeks after the epidemic hits United States soil…

"This is stupid Alison." Henry sat across from her as she went through her checklist. Her packed bag was on the oak table between them. "This is overkill; you know why you're overreacting right?"

She shook her head. "Nope I sure don't. You're gonna be the doctor in the family, why don't you fill me in? Are you going to put me in one of your little boxes? You're pretty fond of doing that…" She caught his shoulders fall in the corner of her eye, wringing his hands together. He couldn't stop moving his legs, twitching his feet up and down at such a pace that she felt dizzy. Her brother was unraveling in front of her, she suddenly felt a little ill.

Kneeling in front of him she clasped her hands around his, made his fidgeting stop. "Okay I'm sorry… why am I overreacting?" She stood back up and smiled at his look of distaste. "I'm curious.. I'm sure I'd be a good case study for your next big project. If you're going to be a psychologist, why not prove yourself? Let me know what I'm feeling. Really, I mean it Henry. Because I already know what you're going to say."

He shook his head and pulled the strings on his red sox hoodie, covering his whole face. Ali heard his voice from beneath the fabric. "Yeah I'm sure you do. Why didn't Dad make you the doctor anyway? Nah… sorry, you're his eager fucking protégé." He pulled the hoodie off his eyes, stuck a pall mall in his mouth and lit it. He turned to face her and leaned against the wall. "I was going to say that Dad has made you paranoid, prepared you for the worst so that's what you always expect, you live life as though there's never a positive moment somewhere on the horizon. You don't and won't give people second chances, you're stubborn, you're your own worst enemy. Dad prepared you for the worst kind of people. You know how to protect yourself, you know how to fight back, you know how to hold your own…and you're good at what you do Ali… you really are."

She could feel her eyes pool with tears that she refused to blink free. She turned from him. "I know that." Wiping at her face with the back of her hand, she grabbed her bag again, checking for things that she already knew were there.

"Trouble is, that's all you know how to do."

She sniffed, chuckling to herself a little as she loaded the last of her guns into the duffel. She turned to her brother and hugged him hard. He squeezed back. It felt like it was the last time they were going to see each other. Why didn't he get it?

"Henry, please come with me. Get Tasha and come with me, Dad and I will keep you both safe. It's not safe to stay here, and with her… condition-"

"You mean pregnancy? That's not really a 'condition' Ali. She's pregnant, it is what it is. And it just so happens to make running away seem pretty fuckin' impossible right now. We live out in the country, I mean look around you!" He held his arms out, referring to the acres of land that surrounding his Massachusetts estate. "We're at least five miles from any type of civilization, we got food here, we have shelter, clean water, everything you need to survive. Why are you just runnin' away when it's not necessary?"

"Because I know it is necessary Henry. It is." She put both of her hands on his shoulders and made him look at her. Her bag and guitar case sat at her feet with the duffel of guns tightly secured over her shoulder. "You don't belong here… whatever's happening… it will show up here no matter hard you pray for it not too. It will find a way, and you'll be stuck with no way out. And that is how I'm going to leave here today Henry. That's what is in my head, from this moment on. I can't hope for you while you stay here, not logically, you might as well be dead."

They stepped away from each other. His palms faced out towards her body, head moved to the side. He looked as though he had just been slapped into a state of shock. He wasn't ready to hear this. He was never really ready to hear anything Ali had to say. She reached up and squeezed his hands again, pressed them against her cheek.

"If you make it through this, know that wherever I am, I love you. And I love Tash', and that little baby… tell him, or her, whatever… tell them about me." She pushed his hands away and strapped her two knives and pistol around her waist, pulled the rest of gear on with his help. She gave him another hug and pushed her hand on his chest, moving him away slowly. She could feel it in her bones. This would be the last time she looked at her brother. "Tell that kid I love them just like I loved you." She swallowed, for once not too ashamed of the tears rolling down her face. "I've got to go… I've got to leave now." She walked away, opening the door, New England summer in the air. "I love you big brother. I love you. Goodbye."

Daryl…

"Aw, come on!" Emma threw down her fishing pole. Daryl watched the line get tangled up and covered in mud and he felt like ripping his hair out. "You gotta be patient, for shit's sake! You have to wait, that's what this whole thing is. Waiting."

"It's boring and dumb, and I suck at it to boot." She huffed and sat on the ground. Her boots were pushed into muddy creek bed and the frown on her face was enough to make you think she'd never be happy again.

Daryl laughed out loud as he stood up. "Wow there girl, you are NOT used to losing, are you?"

Her face became even more contorted, her discontent palpable. "Technically I ain't losing, cuz we ain't even competing. Secondly, this is stupid… I hunt, I don't fish."

"Okay well than here…" Daryl put his hand to his chin, acting as though he were deep in thought. Truth was, he was testing her. He wanted to see if she'd pass. "Let's say you're out here, on your own, everyone's gone."

"Everyone wouldn't be gone Daryl." Her voice grew tight

"Humor me kid, okay? Let's just say they were gone, and it was just you. You alone, the snow is fallin', you hadn't had a bite ta' eat in days. You weak, and starvin', and all you wanted was something in your little belly…"

She kept quiet, looked up at him while dipping the tip of her boot in the rushing water by their feet. "Okay… okay I'm humorin' you Daryl. I'm listenin'."

"Picture it. You haven't seen in a duck in months, a muskrat in weeks, and you've been living off of mice and small birds for so long that now that winter's hit, you ain't got nothin' to shoot at. There's nothin' flyin' little girl. No ducks in sight, no dinner for you. You'll starve to death, and unless you have another way to get yourself some food, you're fucked-" He stumbled as the curse came out of his mouth, his eyes lowered at the girl. "Sorry."

She sighed, "Oh whatever, Ali's got the worse mouth of everyone I've ever heard in my damn' life. I've known my share of women that know how to throw around cuss word without soundin' cheap and stupid, but nothin' like Ali, she's a foul-mouthed artist, a northerner. A Yankee, you know." Emma laughed to herself

"Yeah, I could tell by the accent."

"As she put it once, 'It's all tradition and legacies here in the south. We don't have that in the north. We have sarcasm and too much caffeine.'"

Daryl swallowed hard. His mouth was dry, his palms sweaty. He felt panicky and sick to his stomach. "Okay, lesson's over, alright?"

Her face switched to immediate concern. "Are you okay?"

He sat down on the ground, buried his face in his hands. "Yup, yeah, I'm okay… just give me a few Emma okay? Just a few minutes… I'll take you back to shoot some birds, gather some dinner. We'll learn how to fish another day… deal?"

She nodded, holding her hand out to him, "Come on, we'll walk together, make it back to the camp. They are probably worried. It's already close to dark." She frowned. "We wasted a whole damn day you know." Walking next to Daryl, she couldn't help but shake her head in disappointment. "Could have gotten at least two nights worth a' food. , If you hadn't a' gotten me so morbidly interested in that scenario of a 'land with no birds or mice'… that would never happen. Weirdo."

Daryl shook his head as he tried to move on from the panic that had stricken him just moments earlier. His feet were unsteady but at least he was putting one in front of the other. "What kinda' eleven year old uses the word 'morbidly'?"

Emma smiled walking in front of him, guiding him out of the forest. "The kind with two college English professors for parents." Her face grew somber again. "The kind that used to have to college English professors for parents. You sure you're okay?"

He nodded, although he wasn't sure. This had happened more and more often, especially since they got to the prison. He didn't know what caused it, what set him off, he didn't know why this was happening to him now, when he hadn't had a panic attack since he was in his early years of high school. He was out of practice at handling them, and he was afraid they were only going to get worse. Why now? Worst possible timing, I don't get it, why?

He liked to believe it was God he was speaking to, but even he didn't know anymore.

Ali…

"So what kind of music do you like to play?" Carl's voice came from behind her, she jumped a mile. As she was readjusting, trying to not be annoyed at his ability to sneak up on her, she heard him giggle quietly to himself. "Feelin' a little skittish today?"

"No…" She scowled at him. Ali was becoming just as good as Daryl when it came to scowling people out of the room. "Just not used to people sneaking up on me."

"I didn't sneak, I walked. I walked like a normal person and came to sit behind you. You were just busy."

Ali nodded, recognizing this as truth. She was tuning her guitar, gently plucking the strings and adjusting the tuning pegs. She was in her own little world and hadn't noticed Carl in her company.

Now that she thought of it, she hadn't noticed the sun nearly disappearing out of the sky either. "Where's Emma?"

As soon as the words came out of her mouth Emma and Daryl entered the cell block, both looking moody and upset. Ali began to rise to meet them, but thought better of it when Daryl sat with her on one of the benches and began to give her a lecture on fishing lures. If she walked over there she'd be just as bored as Emma looked

"Well?" Carl asked expectedly.

"Well what?"

"Well… what kind of music do you like to play?"

"I dunno kid, a little of this, a little of that. What do you want to hear?" Ali pulled her pick out of her pocket and ran it across the strings, letting loose a few chords. Sounded perfect.

"Yeah right, like you're a jukebox or something." Carl snorted.

Ali looked up at him with tired eyes. She waited just long enough to make him uncomfortable before asking again. "I don't know every song ever written, no, but I know enough. So let's give this another shot… what do you want to hear?"

He shrugged, looking downward. Everyone was scattered throughout the cell block that night. They usually ate dinner together, but even this small act of unity hadn't happened that day. Herschel had a particularly rough day as far as pain was concerned, and no one felt up to cooking, let alone getting a fire going for them all to gather around. The mood was depressing; Ali could feel it in her veins.

"I like The Beatles." He practically whispered. "Mom used to listen to them a lot."

Ali smiled. "Well your mom's got good taste. What song do you want to hear by them?"

Carl scooted down another step and looked over her shoulder at the guitar in her hands. He reached over and plucked one of the strings, smiling playfully. "There was this song about a girl…"

Ali laughed. "Oh honey, almost all songs that boys sing are about girls, you'll have to be more specific than that."

He stood up and moved to the step below her, his head directly in front of the instrument she held. "Okay, well it was really pretty. The guitar was slow, and they sang the song like it was a letter."

She smiled down at him, beginning to put the pieces together, she knew which one he wanted to hear. Her fingers began to pluck the opening notes to the song, and the look on Carl's face was enough to erase every bad feeling in her body. All the heartache, pain, loss… everything faded into the background as she started to sing, quietly, to her one person audience.

"Dear Prudence… won't you come out to play…"

As it usually is, even in days this dark, the song brought the other souls out of the woodwork. Emma ran off from Daryl's side, and he sat there and watched her from a distance. Arms crossed over his chest, hair matted to his forehead, dirt covered head to toe. He'd had a difficult day, that much she could place, but why, that was something she'd probably have to hear second-hand from Emma. Still, even with his defenses up as high as they would go, she could see that he wasn't pulling it off. He wasn't nearly as surly as he was attempting to look.

"Dear Prudence… greet the brand new day…the sun is up, the sky is blue, it's beautiful, and so are you. Dear Prudence… won't you come out to play…"

By the end of the song half of the group was singing along. Rick, T-Dog and Daryl stood watching, small smiles on their faces, but unwilling to yield their 'manly stances'. God forbid they have a bit of fun.

Later that night…

"Hey… hey Daryl?" Ali whispered. She had silently climbed the stairs to his perch at the top. He slept there on the cold concrete every night, she never understood that. There were plenty of beds available. His was lying flat on his back with his face turned away from hers. She knelt a little closer to his ear. "Daryl?"

"What?" He kept his head turned to the side and readjusted as though her very presence were making him antsy. The air around him was thick with annoyance. Ali swallowed, feeling more nervous than she had felt in a while. Now that she was up there she was to chicken shit to go through with it…

"Emma told me about what happened out in the woods today."

His head jerked to look at her, his eyes narrowing. "Yeah, and what's that?"

Ugh… he's not gonna make this easy… whatever, just don't let him be a baby. Talk to him. Make him talk back. She hadn't given herself a pep-talk like this in a while, but it was needed. She sat next to his makeshift bed, leaned up against the railing and pulled her knees up to her chest. "When I was in middle school I had this irrational fear." She began, "That while I was at school, or with my friends, or away for any reason; that my family would die. That they'd be together and they'd all die and leave me here alone. I'd be in the middle of class and suddenly there they'd be. My mother, father, brother… in a car accident, or the house caught fire and they didn't make it out, something different each time. I didn't want to think about these things but that's what was in my head and I couldn't shake it."

Daryl sat up and leaned against the railing on the other side of the narrow bridge. His arms were draped over his knees in the laziest of ways, but he was listening. "Okay?"

"Well, when I'd picture these things, when the thought was in my head that I'd never get the chance to see my family again… I'd get the worst kind of feeling in my chest. Like someone was sitting on it… my heart would race, I would shake uncontrollably, my skin would get red and hot to the touch. I didn't understand what it meant, but I didn't tell anyone about it until one day I didn't have a choice. I was thirteen, in gym class, and I just collapsed. I didn't have feeling in my hands or feet, my muscles weren't working, I was shaking really bad. My friend Sarah told me I curled into a fetal position… I don't remember that…"

He was staring hard at her, not threatening, not angry, just listening. He was actually listening, she was shocked that this was working. Although she didn't like the whole 'compare battle wounds' tactic… with a man like Daryl Dixon, it was necessary. He wouldn't open up if she didn't, and she needed to understand this man. She didn't know why but the 'why's?' didn't seem to matter much.

"They took me to the emergency room, and I remember my mother standing over my bed asking me what happened. I told her and she smiled sadly, it's strange, she smiled at me a million times when she was around, but that's one of the only ones I remember. Her 'sad' smile…anyway, she told me what had happened to me. I had a panic attack, anxiety attack or whatever. I went to a doctor and they gave me medicine to fix it, but I didn't like the way I felt. I wasn't myself, I had no personality, I was a –" She laughed and shook her head. "For lack of a better word, zombie."

"Why are you telling me this?" His voice was accusatory. She frowned at him. She had forgotten that opening up meant being vulnerable, and the tone of his voice was rubbing her the wrong way. Her instant reaction was anger.

"Because that's what happened to you moron…" She snarled at him. "And I'm trying to do the nice thing here and tell you that it happens to a lot of people." He didn't respond, so she continued, "I didn't want to take the medicine anymore so I stopped, and they came back. The visions, the attacks… so I learned to stop them myself."

They were silent for a few moments. Daryl scooted over, turning a hundred and eight degrees, and sat down next to Ali. They weren't touching, but they were close enough for her to feel the heat of his skin radiating from him. "How?"

"Practice, lots of it." She nodded matter-of-factly. "Breathing slow, emptying your mind, reminding yourself over and over that it will pass… that what's happening isn't permanent, you're not dying, you'll get through it and be fine on the other side." She looked over to him, met his eyes. "I can help you if you want." She whispered. "I can help you figured this out, show you what helped me-"

He cut her short, leaning down swiftly, planting his lips against hers for just a moment. He pulled back quickly and looked away, hands to his face like he did when he was nervous. "Sorry, I'm sorry. I couldn't help it."

Ali looked ahead, touching her lips. 'That was nice,' She thought, ' and I'd like to do that again… so screw it.' She grabbed a hold of his collar lightly and pulled him towards her, and his reaction was immediate. His arms instantly around her waist, his face buried n her neck. Taking in her smell, running his lips across his collarbone. She put her hand on his cheek and pressed her lips against his again. A little longer this time… they weren't has rough as she expected. He wasn't as rough as she expected him to be.

It took a long time before they let go. It was so wonderful to be held, shielded from everything else. She had missed this feeling more than she expected. When they moved away from each other his hand stayed wrapped in hers.

Ali couldn't remember the last time she felt this happy. Right then the world didn't seem so terrible, her mind was hazy with him. She had the feeling she wouldn't be seeing clearly for a while,