DISCLAIMER: I do not own any part of The Walking Dead or its characters. This is for entertainment purposes only.

NOTES: Well, this is it folks. We have come to a close. Thank you for reading. To those of you who have messaged me and left reviews, I've enjoyed your company. And all you "silent readers". Thank you so much, guys! And to anybody who finds this after the fact, I would still love to hear from you!

I have to admit, I became kind of attached to this story. I found myself wanting to keep typing away at the keyboard to find out what happened next because believe it or not, some of this stuff just flowed into my head at the spur of the moment. So, I am a little sad to say this is the end…

WTFdoUwantNOW and MollyMayhem84 are THE best. And if you are looking for a good fanfic to read, I suggest checking them out!

It had been at least a few months now since the group had seen the walls of the prison, or what was left of it. It all seemed like a blur to try and think back about the events that had happened following up to the day they finally left. Even though they didn't get the chance to stay that long, it was heart breaking. It was heart breaking because it was a place that they could finally feel secure, a little safer than just laying out in the middle of the woods in tents. But it was also heart breaking for everything that happened in that prison; the people they lost—their family.

And of course they had to move around a lot, constantly traveling to try and find a new place to stay. There were a few nights that they had to spend in the woods, a few nights where they stayed in a different house here and there. They had traveled through small towns and cities that had long been raided of supplies—Rick assumed from Woodbury. Hell, even Woodbury had gone to shambles. It seemed like there was nobody left. It seemed like there were hardly any supplies to be scavenged.

Hershel leaned back, wiping the clean backside of his arm across his forehead. His hands up to a little past his wrists were red with blood. He had Daryl's shirt ripped away from where he was working, bloody gauze stuck to the surface of his stomach covering the wound.

"H-How's he doing?" Rick ran a hand through his hair nervously as he stared down at Hershel, his other hand placed on his hip. He wasn't sure if he could handle much more bad news. But he had to know.

"Well… It appears the knife did somehow miraculously avoid any major artery or vessel. That's the good news." Hershel stared down at Daryl as he replied.

"And the bad news?" Glenn stared down at Daryl as well, still sitting by his side opposite of Hershel on the cold floor.

"He's still bleeding pretty heavy and at this rate, if I can't at least slow it down..." Hershel paused. He took a deep breath and sighed, "If he pulls through this, he'll need antibiotics. Lord only knows what kind of infections he could get from that knife not to mention all of our hands. And he'd need more blood. Seeing as we're not equip to set up doing a blood transfusion and we have no idea what his blood type even is..."

Everyone stared at Hershel now, waiting for him to keep talking. Waiting for the good news. There had to be good news. More than just those few words.

"We'll be lucky if he even makes it through the night," Hershel lowered his head, regretting to inform everyone the likelihood of Daryl actually dying right there in front of them.

But just as they were about to give up all hope, they had found it.

It was a two-story house that sort of set back by itself. They were lucky to have stumbled upon it. Rick thought it was just sheer luck, perhaps even a miracle. They had spotted an old dirt road that was sprinkled with little bits of gravel, hinting that it was used at one point in time. It looked as though it hadn't been traveled since the outbreak.

There was a bit of moss and mildew just below a few windows on the first floor. The faded brown shingles still remained intact and were holding up against the abandonment and weather. They had checked the house, entering from the front door. Everything seemed stable and quiet, a big open area that could serve as a living room greeted them from the front door. There was a nice sized dining room and kitchen that veered off to the left and a hallway and staircase that led upstairs straight ahead. They headed up the stairs and quickly found two bathrooms and four decent sized bedrooms, apart from the little sitting area that overlooked the first floor. As they headed back downstairs and through the kitchen, they realized there were stairs that led to the basement. There they had found a laundry room and a nice rec room with a built in bar.

There was a garage not too far from the house, just down the hill. Of course, it looked like it had seen better days. The shed on the side of the house seemed fairly stable and in better shape. There was a place they could start a garden, almost like a greenhouse out back. There was also a small creek bed that wrapped around the side of the house and flowed into the lake through the trees behind the two-story.

There were only a few bodies that had been in the house, dead and slightly decayed, which they took care of. The house wasn't in too bad of shape and it was assumed that the dead bodies were the previous tenants of the house. This house hadn't been touched since the world went to shit, and the previous owners must have croaked soon after. There were still some supplies left that they could use—some food, plenty of blankets, some spare clothes, etc. Then they stumbled upon the generator just outside the basement door. Everyone had gotten quite a kick out of that, knowing that meant they could have electricity. And it appeared to be solar powered at that.

It felt like hours before Hershel had declared Daryl's wound secure. It was at that point that they decided to get him up and onto a more comfortable surface, one of the beds in a cell close by. Rick and Glenn had carefully transported him with the guidance of the others. Hershel had been afraid that by simply moving him, it would have started the bleeding again. He was shocked when he found out that it didn't.

Hershel claimed there was nothing more he could do until Daryl could heal a little more. He had mentioned something about losing too much blood if he attempted to do anything else— that much Rick understood. And once they had Daryl settled on the bed, still completely out cold, Rick wondered if he would ever open his eyes again.

As the time passed and all was quiet from outside of that cell block, they decided to try and get some rest. They agreed to take shifts in watching Daryl and that if anything was to happen, whoever was on watch would call out for Hershel.

Rick took the first watch as he stared down at Daryl's motionless, pale body. He sighed as he silently prayed in his head that he would come out of this okay. He switched his gaze to Daryl's right wrist and couldn't help but frown. It had been Carl's idea to handcuff him to the bed as a precaution, much like Rick had suggested for Hershel when he cut the man's leg off just below the knee. It didn't seem right in either situation and Rick truly didn't know what he would do if Daryl just woke up as one of those.

Unfortunately, Rick was fighting sleep the best he could. He was exhausted from all of the fighting, running, and worrying. He hadn't noticed when he dozed off slightly until he heard a faint clang of metal on metal. His heavy eyes shot open as he directed his attention to Daryl's arm. The clang had been from him just barely moving his arm, just enough for the handcuff to hit against the metal pole that it was attached to.

Rick stared at his face for a moment as he could tell he had it scrunched in pain. He felt hopeful. That had to be a good sign, right? Daryl seemed like he was going to wake up. But then the thoughts flooded his mind—what if it wasn't good? If Daryl woke up now, how much pain would he be in? Rick was torn between wanting him to wake up and wanting him to stay knocked out until they could manage to do something to help him.

Daryl's head slightly tossed back and forth, his eyes shut tight. He looked as though he were fighting something. His breathing picked up, being completely audible to Rick, as he blurted out "Merle" just under his breath.

Rick had another internal war with himself, biting his lip. Daryl was calling out for Merle. He didn't know whether to interpret that as good or bad with the pained expression. Part of him wanted to try and wake him in case it was a bad dream. Though Merle was really gone this time.

But it didn't last long because Daryl had completely returned to his motionless state, his breathing rate quickly dropping with it. Rick sat up and stared at the man's chest, looking for it to rise and fall with each breath. He couldn't quite tell until he had actually placed his hand over Daryl's chest and physically felt the slow motion of his breathing. Rick kept his hand there for a moment and sighed in relief before sitting back again.

As much as they loved having the new house and all the new things that came with it, a new sense of belonging and safeness… They still enjoyed the way they had been. Living by candle light, sitting out by a fire at night, the small things in life. Enjoying each other's company. After everything, they had become much closer. Over the time they had spent together, over all the losses they encountered, they became closer. They truly felt like one big—and maybe sometimes slightly dysfunctional—family.

Rick stared down at the fresh graves that had just dug up earlier that day. They belonged to everyone that they had lost in the war against Woodbury. There were way too many for Rick's liking and just at the thought alone, he felt like he could just collapse until he couldn't feel anymore, until the pain just washed away and he was numb. They had fought off all the walkers that they could. It had been a fairly easy task, but tiresome. But they had all worked together to get the job done. Bury the ones we love, burn the rest… Rick was just thankful the burn pile was much higher.

It had been at least a couple weeks since they stumbled upon the house, and they had spent a lot of that time trying to get everything cleaned up and moved in. They were getting settled in.

And this was the first day that they could truly just sit back and reel in the beauty of it all—enjoy what they still had.

Rick caressed Judith's small head as he looked out at everyone from the back porch, smiling while Judith let out a few coos. Hershel sat by his side and exchanged a smile with him. They were both enjoying the view, watching their family interact as though nothing had ever happened, like they had all grown up together and this was just another one of those bad family barbeques you were forced to go to.

The sun was setting, casting a great red glow across the horizon. It was something that Rick could appreciate only that much more now. Something that he wouldn't have even paid much attention to before the outbreak. It was funny how things worked like that. As many times as his life had been threatened over the past year and a half, two years, it made him greatly appreciate all the small things.

Rick stared out at the lake as it reflected the red glow in the ripples. Maggie and Glenn were sitting on the dock with their feet dangling in the water, their laughs able to be heard from where Rick sat with Hershel and Judith. That alone was enough to make him smile, seeing and hearing their happiness. Andrea sat with Michonne in the grass as they watched the others, getting a good laugh out of them. Though Rick had to admit, it was that same scene that they were watching that made Rick grin the widest.

Daryl appeared to be goofing around with Carl and Beth. At first, it looked like he was trying to show Carl how to use the crossbow. Carl looked a bit goofy holding the large weapon, but he was almost grown into it, his arms just about the right length. Daryl even smiled at Carl's attempts before he took the crossbow back from him. Then he smashed Carl and Beth together, grabbing each of one of their arms and throwing it around the other. This got a laugh from Andrea and Daryl, a smirk from Michonne, as Beth and Carl grew red in the face immediately and took a couple steps back away from each other. Carl stuck his tongue out at Daryl and Daryl had returned the gesture. Beth giggled and slid her hand into Carl's, making him blush once more, before they ran along and joined Glenn and Maggie.

They had stayed at the prison for as long as they could really, after Daryl was injured. They didn't know if he was going to make it or not, and if he was, they couldn't risk jostling him around too much trying to get to the vehicles and load up to leave. They managed to stay for probably close to two weeks. It gave Daryl a little bit of time to recuperate—though not much—and it gave them time to bury their loved ones (or at least make a grave site for them). It was the least they could do and it was gruesome enough trying to take out the walkers just to even maneuver around. But they had managed, and here they were.

"Dinner should be ready shortly," Carol poked around from the doorway. Tyreese was by her side.

"Okay, I'll make sure to let the 'children' know," Rick nodded, smiling.

Carol looked out at everyone and smiled as well. "It's good to see everyone like this. It makes us all feel a little younger on the inside."

"How's the new cooking partner, Carol?" Hershel looked to Carol with a slight twinkle in his eye.

"Tyreese is wonderful," Carol placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm just picking up a few tips. Ya know," Tyreese shrugged.

"Don't be embarrassed to be a man in the kitchen. You'd be shocked at how many women find that attractive," Hershel suggested.

Carol and Tyreese only nodded and stood in silence as they watched everyone else for a moment. Rick shifted in his seat and held Judith out in front of him, slightly bouncing her up and down on his legs. He smiled as she stuck her fingers into her mouth and gurgled, her big blue eyes shining back at him. His baby girl.

"Should probably feed her soon too," Rick thought out loud. "And I want to make sure we get the fire set up and going before the sun goes down completely. We can't break our tradition this early on."

Since they had found the house, they agreed to make a campfire every night. It was something that they had always done when they traveled from place to place until they reached the prison. And now that they had finally found this house, they wanted to bring back the tradition of having a fire, a time that everyone could sit around and enjoy each other's company, even if nobody said a word. It was everyone's presence that mattered.

"Hey, if yer settin' the fire up," Daryl took a quick jog up the few stairs before stopped in front of Rick on the back porch, his arms outstretched.

Rick couldn't help but smile once more, "You're wanting to take Judith?"

"Well, yeah. Kid's gotta have some time with her uncle, too." Daryl took the six month old from Rick once he got back to his feet. "Ain't that right, sweetheart?"

"Is this the reaction I missed at the prison?" Rick questioned, folding his arms. "Because if so, I didn't believe any of you until now." He recalled when he was still dealing with the loss of Lori, how the others had told him what Daryl had done with Judith: He nicknamed her 'Little Ass Kicker' and he had held her with a bottle calling her sweet names. Rick honestly didn't think the man had it in him, but Daryl seemed to surprise him more often than not. In a good way. He was glad he made a full recovery because he wasn't sure if he could have taken the loss of Daryl too well. The man had become a good friend of Rick's: his second-hand man, a leader—even though Daryl would refuse the role of leadership, the hunter. And Uncle Daryl to Judith, and Carl.

Rick watched as Daryl held his daughter, his scared hands the most gentle he had ever seen them as he had Judith cradled against his chest, wiggling a finger just under her chin. As he walked away from them to get the firewood together, he noticed they all looked like a picture perfect moment. Carol, Tyreese, Daryl, Judith, and Hershel. They were all so content and smiling.

It just felt so right.

I apologize if the ending to this is a bit cheesy. And I am by no means a medical professional, so if I made errors, I apologize once again. And I'm sorry this one is so short... I was trying to hold you all in suspense with Daryl if you couldn't tell. In doing so, I might have made this chapter a bit choppy… :/ If I left some questions unanswered, shoot me a PM. My brain is so scrambled right now I'm not sure if there's something I forgot or not. I will admit that part of me is not very satisfied with this chapter and there is a small chance that I could end up rewriting it?

I'm hoping to think up some more ideas and get started on another fic, but it may be a while. If you have any ideas you'd like to share, hit me up. Maybe something you'd like to see that you haven't been able to find on this site yet. Even a possible one-shot. Let me know.

I set up a poll on my profile if you're that afraid to talk to me. ;)

Thank you! You guys make me all happy and giggly with the reviews, and the follows, and the favorites! It gives me a little more confidence, haha. But seriously though! Love you all! xoxo