Chapter Ten

"Well ain't that the cutest thing ya ever did see?" Merle cooed sarcastically when he walked into the tent the following morning. Daryl jolted so hard at the sound of his voice that he nearly caused the cot to collapse. He had rolled onto his back in his sleep and Allie was mostly on top of him, her leg hooked between his own. He quickly pulled the sheets over the both of them.

"What the hell, Merle?" he grumbled. Allie was just starting to stir.

"Well Darleena, I see you been keepin' real busy while we were off doin' all the man's work."

"Shut it."

"I mean here I was, thinkin' you'd spend your time protectin' camp, maybe a bit of huntin'. But no, here y'all are just cuddlin' in bed like a couplea loved up newlyweds."

"Shhh," Allie murmured into Daryl's chest, and the expression on both men's faces softened a degree.

"We'll be out in a minute," Daryl told him definitively, and Merle left them to get ready.

"C'mon, we got work to do," Daryl whispered in her ear. She whined and buried her head further into his chest. His chuckles shook her awake, slowly. "C'mon Allie, gotta get up sometime."

"I know," she said in her best singsong voice as she sat up. She faced him, but his eyes weren't on hers. They travelled up and down her body as his pupils dilated. Unconsciously, he licked his bottom lip.

"What happened to all that work that needs doing?" she teased.

He sighed in frustration. "We ain't never gonna get no time alone, now."

Allie frowned for a beat, then asked him, "Their being back, does that change things for you?"

He sat up to meet her eyes, "Naw, not s'far as I see it. It change things for you?"

"Nope," she agreed happily, going in for a kiss. "Not in the least." She felt him grin.

"Mornin', Allie-cat," Matt called as they stepped out of the tent.

"Hey Mattie," she whispered as she hugged him tightly, "Everything go okay out there?"

"Psh, course it did! I'm an expert, as ya know." He looked at her curiously. There were dark bags under her eyes, and her hair was poking out in all directions. Definite sex hair, that was for sure. "Ya look…so…pretty…" he said with an eyebrow cocked, smirking all the while.

She smacked him hard in the arm, "Douchebag," she muttered, trying and failing to flatten her curls. Daryl and Allie sat next to each other on a log, sharing sidelong looks as they ate breakfast. Matt and Merle sat across from them, grinning wildly as they watched the couple.

"The hell is wrong with you two?" Daryl grumbled, annoyed with the staring.

"You two been doin' the dirty while we was gone, haven't ya?" Merle prodded.

"Ain't none of your damn business what we been doin'," Daryl retorted.

Matt jumped to his feet and stomped towards the archer. "Sure as hell is my business," he growled.

Daryl quickly stood up as well, trying his best to appear menacing, but Matt had already broken down in fits of laughter. "Fuck, the look on your face," he wheezed.

Daryl and Allie shared a confused glance, which Matt caught instantly. "Oh come on," he huffed, "Why do ya think me and Merle were so keen to leave y'all here together? We both saw where it was goin', just thought we'd help it along a bit."

"Looks like we were right," Merle added.

"Ain't we always?" Matt agreed with a grin.

TWDTWDTWDTWDTWDTWD

Allie watched with a grimace as the Dixons and Matt took the deer apart piece by piece. Merle was explaining to Matt each step of the process. He was a good shot, Allie knew. And he could catch a rabbit or something small. But he was as clueless about hunting and prepping large animals as she was.

"Make the cut startin' at the head, go right 'round the neck. Then one lung cut down the belly. Don't go too deep, we're just gettin' the hide off for now," Merle was telling him.

As he skinned and cleaned the smaller game the pair had brought back, Daryl watched his brother curiously. Merle was rarely nice to anyone. Hell, they were brothers, and he barely tolerated him. But with this kid, he was downright friendly. With Allie as well, he supposed. But that was another thing entirely. That girl could crack a smile out of a goddamn funeral crowd. But Matt and Allie weren't near close to the same. Matt was tall and built, with dark brown hair and eyes. He was rough in the purest sense of the word, probably as redneck as the two of them. That must be it; he's just found himself a new drinking buddy, some mindless lackey like in the old days.

Allie's mind, unsurprisingly, was elsewhere. She didn't wonder about Merle and Matt's newly kindled friendship. It was obvious, really. They both had grown up rough. They both had tried and failed to protect their younger siblings from all the things in the world that wanted to hurt them. Matt still held himself responsible for her marks, Allie knew. And whatever it was Daryl had gone through in his life, it seemed as though Merle felt that same weight of accountability.

So rather than worry about either man, her attention was focused solely on her own, personal redneck. She watched his biceps flex and stutter as he skinned the animal, the perpetual layer of dirt coating his body streaked clean by several beads of sweat. Allie felt that familiar ache as she watched him, and silently cursed everyone in the camp for standing between their bliss. Daryl could feel her eyes on him. A slow smirk lightened his lips, though he didn't bother to look up at her.

"Like what you see?" he taunted.

"You know I do," she said with a grin, "Wish I could see more."

"Could say the same to you."

"Yeah? I'll take my shorts off if you do it first."

"Woman, you ain't got the stones."

"Oh, don't I? Think you'd be able to find my stones if I did have them?"

"That a challenge?"

"Bet your ass it is, Dixon."

"Can't you two keep it in your pants?" Shane hissed as he strode by. Daryl's eyes instantly darkened. And Allie couldn't conceal her instinctual tremor when the cop passed her.

"You best learn to watch your mouth, pig," Daryl spat, dropping the rabbit carcass but keeping his bloody hunting night in his tightly clenched fist.

"I ain't getting' into this with you, Dixon," Shane replied as he shifted around several boxes of supplies.

"You're stickin' your nose in my business, we're already in it," Daryl growled. Merle was up and at his side now, hovering behind him like an overprotective mother. Just waiting for the smallest excuse to turn and draw.

"You eye-humping that girl out in the middle of camp, that makes it my business. If you don't want people talking 'bout ya then you should probably reserve that shit for when the two of ya are alone," Shane said.

"Ya know if I wasn't mistaken officer, I'd think that sounded like the reasonin' of a jealous man," Merle drawled.

"Well if I were you, I'd hope you are mistaken. Or else y'all might find yourselves killed in a tragic hunting accident," Shane exclaimed with a sick grin. The trio had squared off, teeth bared and ready to fight, when Dale suddenly stood between them.

"Is there a problem here?" Dale asked with eyes wide.

Shane took a step back from the Dixon brothers. "No. No problem." He sauntered off towards Lori and Carl.

Dale huffed out a breath and regarded the Dixons curiously. "You seem to have found yourself an enemy," he remarked.

Merle snorted, "Think you should be more worried bout the pig."

"Maybe so," Dale agreed thoughtfully. "Now I was wondering if either of you boys might have some experience in mechanics."

"Daryl here was the grease monkey of the family," Merle told him.

"Well now, that is very interesting indeed," Dale replied.

TWDTWDTWDTWDTWD

Daryl wasn't quite sure how he'd been strung into this. The RV was a relic. It was a miracle the thing had every run at all, let alone continued barreling along straight into the apocalypse. Between Merle and Allie's incessant whining and Dale's damn near begging, Daryl had somehow been conned into helping the old man restore the crumbling vehicle.

He wasn't happy about this, not one bit.

And his unhappiness wasn't sprung from the manual labor. Hell, he'd missed really working with his hands, taking things apart and putting them back together. Working with cars had always been rather relaxing for him, allowing him to get out of his own head, if just for a short while. No, it wasn't the grunt work that was getting on his nerves. It was Dale.

"So you and Allie..." Dale began.

Daryl merely grunted in response, his eyes never leaving the toolbox he was sorting through.

"She's seems like a very nice girl. Strong," Dale continued.

Daryl shrugged and began to fiddle with the transmission.

"She's been through a lot in her short life, and yet she manages to be optimistic, find that small scrap of happiness in her day to day activities. It's an admirable trait."

Daryl was scowling into the motor of the car now, not liking the direction this conversation was going.

"Have you and Allie talked about any this? About her past?"

Daryl finally put down the wrench in his hand and fixated his scowl on the white-haired man. "For fuck's sake, old man. You got something to say? Say it already!"

"Well, have you two talked about her past?"

"Ain't none of your business!"

"Son, I'm only trying to help. I care about the both of you, though I know you might find that hard to believe. It can be difficult to dig up old memories; I'd like to ensure neither of you end up hurt in the process."

"I ain't gonna hurt her," Daryl replied with a square jaw.

"I know you wouldn't intentionally, son. But with these things-"

"I ain't gonna hurt her," Daryl cut him off, "We've talked- 'bout all of it. No one's every gonna hurt that girl again, least of all me."

Dale nodded at his words thoughtfully. "You know, the two of you fit well together."

"Well ain't you sweet," Daryl replied sarcastically.

Dale chuckled at the surliness; he expected as much. "In my experience, people like Allie- or should I say, people who have been through the sort of things Allie has - tend to connect to those with similar experiences."

"And what's that supposed ta mean?" Daryl replied, with less gruffness than he intended. He didn't like the way Dale saw his scars, no matter the lengths he went to in order to cover them up.

"It means, you and Allie seem to understand one another. And that's a good thing. IN fact, it's a downright miracle in this day and age. The way things are now..." Dale trailed off, surveying the camp. "But despite the fact that you two understand each other and can rely on each other, you may need to look outside of each other for help every now and again."

Daryl was glaring at the man, again. But Dale was unperturbed.

"I'm not saying that you can't take care of the girl, son. In fact it's just the opposite; you are an incredibly capable young man. But I fear that the two of you will retreat into each other. And if you do, you'll be missing out. Perhaps even to a fault. People need people these days, Daryl. Even those as strong as Allie and yourself."

Dale paused for a moment, noting Daryl's expression of pure confusion.

"So what, ya think I'm gonna take off with her? Leave y'all to fend for yourselves?" Daryl questioned.

"I suspect it's crossed your mind. But I don't think it's come to that just yet. What I'm more worried about, son, is how you pulled away from the rest of camp. I can understand how with Shane's...attitude...it might seem appealing to put distance between yourselves and the others. But you need to know that with the exception of our resident ex-sheriff, the rest of the camp wants you both here. All I'm asking here is that you keep that in mind. For your sake and Allie's."

Daryl nodded at his words, staring at his boots with feigned interest.

"Now let's see if we can get this thing running?" Dale said with a smile, clapping his hands together.