Took longer than I thought to write this chapter; since it's so Daryl-centric I really wanted to make sure I got his characterization right, especially since he'd be interacting solely with Wihelm. And I also had to go a week without internet! Oh how I have missed the internet!

Thanks again to alligator-blood! The decision for Wilhelm to go scouting with Daryl was all hers

Enjoy and be sure to send in your reviews, so much more fun to read them than to do work haha.

"What happened to her?"

Daryl looked over at Wilhelm. They hadn't even gone 10 feet into the woods; they could turn back and still see the farmhouse.

"The little girl. Sophia. How did she get lost?"

"Walkers on the road. Had to hide under the cars. Came out too soon, couple walkers saw her, chased her into the woods."

"Who was the last to see her?"

Daryl huffed. "Who the hell are you? German Sherlock?" Wilhelm chuckled. "What's so funny, that I know who Sherlock is?" He was regretting this scouting trip already.

"No, far from it. Just funny, I don't think Sherlock would have to ask as many questions as me." Daryl didn't say anything back, not entirely sure what to say.

He was a strange, familiar opposite to Daryl. Both seemed more than capable of taking care of themselves. Could survive longer on their own than anyone else in the group. The group depended on Daryl for food, essentially survival. Alana depended on Wilhelm to make the decisions. To find the food.

"Either of you know how to hunt?" Daryl asked.

Wilhelm shook his head. "No. Well, I suppose we know the mechanics of hunting, but how to actually carry it out? No. During our training we were taught how to figure out what we could and couldn't eat that didn't require cooking. Couldn't do anything that would possibly lead enemies to us. So no fire."

"What the hell you eat then, leaves?"

"Mushrooms, berries, acorns. Would have to collect them up, grind them into a paste, and chow on that for a week."

"Acorns?"

"Taste doesn't matter for much when you're trying to survive. Do you do all the hunting for your group?" Wilhelm quickly asked, turning the questions back onto Daryl.

"I'm the only one with a crossbow."

"What do you catch?"

"Squirrels mostly. Rabbits. Sometimes deer."

Wilhelm perked up. "Alana's caught a couple of squirrels."

"Thought she didn't know how to hunt with that crossbow of hers."

"She doesn't. Sometimes we'd be moving through the woods, to avoid towns. We'd sleep up in the trees, better than the ground. At night, during her watch, she'd just sit there. Real still. Bit of birdseed in her hands. Squirrels would walk right up into them, snap their neck, have ourselves breakfast the next day."

They came to a clearing overlooking the land. There was still a scatter of trees, but a faint dirt path could be seen peeking out. Daryl had made the plan to check out the neighboring houses he had seen on the map of Hershel's. Might be that Sophia was hiding out in one of them.

"So we taking that path?" Wilhelm asked, looking through his binoculars. "Looks clear enough, what do you think?" He handed the binoculars to Daryl. After a few seconds he took them. "Edges look clear, path disappears over there to the northeast. What do you think?"

Daryl took a moment. He wasn't used to others asking what he thought.

"We'll go round the edge there," he said, pointing to the east. "Follow along the side of the path."

Wilhelm nodded, putting his hand out to take the binoculars back. They didn't say anything else as they made their way along the side of the clearing. They were sitting ducks out there.

Once in the woods again Daryl asked if Wilhelm knew how to track.

"Yes, but likely not as good as you. You should lead, don't want me stomping all over possible tracks. I'm just here as backup."

They were getting close to where Sophia had gone missing. Well not close. But close to where Daryl and the group had stopped searching.

Daryl kept his eyes low, looking over the ground, searching for any sign that Sophia had been through there. Wilhelm was his lookout, making sure they didn't stumble upon any unpleasant surprises. There'd be a moment and Wilhelm would see movement; before he could alert Daryl there'd a be a dead squirrel stuck to a tree. Daryl would walk over calmly, pull the bolt out, wipe it on his pants, then tie the squirrel to a rope. Wilhelm started watching him, picking up on his actions. Two hours into their trek and Wilhelm was pointing out squirrels to Daryl.

They would randomly stop. Wilhelm would pick up the binoculars and take a look around. Each knew their luck was running too high. So far they had caught 13 squirrels. Hadn't run into a single walker. May not have seen any trace of Sophia, but their luck was still too high.

The house was up ahead. Looked much the same as Hershel's. The woods crept up to it on all sides, only a few yards of open ground in between. From appearances it seemed abandoned; couple windows busted out, torn curtains flapping. Paint was coming off in bits, exposing at least four other coats, all in various faded shades. Wilhelm motioned to Daryl that he would make a circle round the house, make sure it would be safe to enter. Daryl stood at the front door, crossbow aimed at it while he looked left to right. When Wilhelm came back round he stepped in front of Daryl, taking the lead. Though he was used to it by now, Daryl relented; hunting and sneaking was his part, might as well let the German feel useful and let him play army.

Wilhelm rolled his feet as he stepped inside, rifle held up and ready. He kept his back to the walls, squatting down slightly. Being tall and remembering his training, he had to make himself small. Common person would hold their gun out straight, level with their chest, expecting everyone else to be the same height as them. That single second it would take to adjust their aim could mean not getting the chance to pull the trigger.

The house itself creaked. But Wilhelm never made a sound. At each hallway he would pause, look back to Daryl, then swiftly turn the corner. Someone had been living there when things started going wrong for the human race. The house was messy, but all over there was evidence of someone having been there. A lot of the downstairs furniture had been moved closer to the door and windows. Against a wall was a pile of wooden boards. A discarded box of nails rested on the floor, a couple hammers nearby. Someone had tried to ride it out.

They stopped at the foot of the staircase. Not much could be seen just by peering up. Any place with more than one floor irked Wilhelm. Didn't matter how much you checked the lower floors, minute you went up there was no telling if you'd ever come back down. Might be walkers upstairs, cut you off from getting back down. Might be walkers show up downstairs and you get cut off again.

There was still one room to check before they could consider heading upstairs. The kitchen was open spaced and had two entrances. One from the hallway and the other from a backdoor that hung loosely on its hinges. There wasn't much in the way of food left. Glass jars of pickled vegetables, spices. Stale crackers, hardened bread. Wilhelm was eyeing a cupboard when Daryl pulled something from a trashbin.

An opened canister of sardines. There was still juice inside.

The cupboard door creaked and both raised their weapons back up. Even though Wilhelm's rifle had the silencer he knew their first choice had to be Daryl's crossbow. Lowering his rifle, Wilhelm edged over to the cupboard. He looked back at Daryl and held up a hand, counting down to 1.

He wrenched the door open, keeping it from slamming against the wall, and stepped back as fast as he could.

Daryl had a pillow and blanket in his crosshairs.

He huffed, stalking over to the cupboard.

Wilhelm was crouching down, pushing the pillow and blanket around. No sign of blood. No layer of dust. Whoever had slept there had done so recently.

"Too small a spot for an adult." He looked up at Daryl who nodded. "Maybe she'll come back. We should find something, leave her a note." Daryl nodded again, walking off to find something to write with. "Daryl!" Wilhelm whispered. He was looking at the shelves in the cupboard. He pointed to spots where boxes and cans had once been. Over everything else there was a sheet of dust, but barely anything where the items had once been. "She's a smart girl," Wilhelm said, "knew enough to take food with her."

Both men looked around in the kitchen, pulling drawers open as quietly as they could. Daryl tapped a pen on the counter. They couldn't find anything to write on and so Wilhelm tore the label from a glass jar and turned it over, handing it to Daryl. He didn't know what to write. "What do I put?"

Wilhelm shrugged. "Tell her to stay here? Upstairs maybe. Bunk up in one of the rooms. We can block the doors, windows, leave one open for her."

Daryl nodded.

Sophia. Stay here. Go upstairs and wait. We'll come back for you. –Daryl

"Her mother. Put her mother too."

Daryl did so.

They placed the note in the cupboard on top of the pillow.

Making their way back over to the staircase the two of them looked up with no interest in truly going up. "Not much luck with going upstairs in the past?" Wilhelm asked. "Me neither. How do you want to do this?"

"Cover the stairs from midway. I'll head up and take a look around."

Wilhelm stood on the stairs with his back to the wall. Daryl had stood at the top of the stairs for the longest of time, looking up and down the hall. At the end and to the right was a bathroom, door wide open. There were three other rooms, only one was opened. Daryl started with the room directly in front of him.

The room was small. A bed in the furthest corner, a dresser to the left. Small closet to the right. The place looked like it had been ransacked. The sheets had been pulled from the mattress. The dresser drawers were pulled out, clothing hanging over the sides. The closet was wide open, sweaters hanging off the hangers. Room looked like it had belonged to a young girl. Daryl exited quickly. There was nothing to see.

Wilhelm looked up as he passed, heading to the next room. Wilhelm could still see him. The door creaked loudly as Daryl turned the knob and pushed it open. Both cringed at the sound. Wilhelm took a step up, just in case. Wanted to make sure he'd have a good aim if something came darting out the room.

Daryl exited the room quicker than he did the first one, his cheeks puffed out like he had been holding his breath. He shook his head as he passed Wilhelm again.

The third room was frozen in time. A light dust covered everything, but it was all tidy and in place. The bed was perfectly made, decorative pillows covering it. The dresser was empty except for a few antique wooden toys. The closet had worn coats hanging. Shoeboxes were on top. Daryl pulled them all down and looked through them.

The wife and husband had two children. Girl and boy. The room belonged to the boy. From the pictures he had left home, was the eldest. Most recent picture looked like it was taken when he was just out of high school. Boy must have gone to college. Joined the army. Daryl didn't know. All he knew was that that boy wasn't with his family when the world went wrong. He was sure of it.

There had only been three bodies in the second room.

Daryl peeked into the bathroom. Nothing. Outside it though he saw the door to the attic. He whispered over to Wilhelm that he was going up.

He knew there was no way that door wasn't going to make a sound, so he made sure to pull it down fast as possible. Get it done with.

Wilhelm could hear him, moving about above him, the boards creaking. There'd be a thud from time to time, Daryl moving things around. He looked at his watch. They'd been out almost four hours and had only made it to one house.

Five minutes was a long time. Long time to stand on the stairs. At a clanking sound Wilhelm looked up. Daryl turned the corner. He was holding a can of paint. As he came down the stairs Wilhelm took it from him.

"Start boarding up the windows. I'll leave a message on the outside."

They worked quickly. It didn't take but a few minutes for Wilhelm to write a message on the front of the house.

Sophia, hide in here. Go through the window and wait for us. –Mom

When Wilhelm came inside, Daryl had only blocked off one window.

"We have to move faster. We need time to get back."

"You crazy? You want a walker to hear us banging?"

"We don't have a choice. Use just enough nails to get the boards on there and move on. Here." Wilhelm tore a curtain from one of the windows. "This will dull the sound. Just hurry."

There were five windows. They left one open. The front door was boarded from the outside. They didn't have time to board everything from the outside. Would have been more secure, but only would have taken that much more time to carry the supplies outside to each window. Long as Sophia kept quiet the walkers would just give up and leave the house alone.

Running quickly to the back Wilhelm started nailing the last boards in place. Daryl held his crossbow up, watching the perimeter.

"Let's go," Wilhelm said, tossing the hammer and nails on the ground. Then on second thought he bent down and stuffed the hammer in his waistband.

As they made their way back into the woods Daryl slowed, coming to a stop in front of some bushes. There were flowers blooming. Wilhelm turned around.

"What is it?"

Daryl shook his head. "Cherokee Rose. Haven't seen one of these in a while."

Wilhelm didn't ask more; he looked lost in thought.

"Come on, we need to head back."

Daryl plucked the rose and hurried to catch up with Wilhelm.

He quickly took over the lead again, Wilhelm reasoning that Sophia may have crossed their path while they were in the house.

"We can go back out tomorrow," Wilhelm offered. "Take the truck, head to the other houses. You can take Alana with you. I'll come back here, see if Sophia has come back." When Daryl didn't respond, he continued. "She won't slow you down. She's a good listener. And she picks up on things quickly. Just tell her what to do and she'll get it done."

"I ain't no babysitter."

"Never said you were. But no one should be heading out there alone. Need someone you can trust, that will have your back. Of the people in your group, how many do you trust to stand behind you with a gun? And how many of them actually have the skills to use that gun?" Wilhelm sighed. "Rick won't be leaving that house for at least another day. Dale has a good heart, but he's not a sniper with that shotgun. Glenn lacks confidence. T-Dog is nursing that wound on his trigger hand. The women, well, they're women. And Shane…"

"Yeah," Daryl agreed, "Shane is Shane."

"She won't slow you down. If she does, tell her to go back. She won't put up a fight. Or just tell her to stay in the truck."

"Who says I can—"

Wilhelm jerked Daryl back, pushing him to the ground. He put a finger up to shush him. To their right the crunching of leaves could be heard, coming closer. Wilhelm looked around; there were no decent sized trees or rocks for them to hide behind. The noise was too close, if they tried to make a run for it, circle round back, anything, it would draw attention to them. Clenching his rifle Wilhelm knew what had to be done.

He motioned for Daryl to head up a tree just behind them. The branches drooped low enough for Daryl to reach them with a bit of effort. Wilhelm softly placed his binoculars on the ground before handing the rifle up to Daryl.

"I'll draw them out, bring them into that clearing," he said, pointing to a small patch of treeless land. "I'll take the rest out. Only use the gun if you have to."

Before Daryl could say anything Wilhelm was off, moving from tree to tree. In a few seconds he was out of sight. The groans and guttural cries of the walkers rose. He could hear two sickening crunches, like wet wood being snapped. Wilhelm came running back into view, the hammer in his hand drenched in blood, bits of skull and hair stuck to it. He kept an eye on Daryl as he moved around, keeping the walkers on him, but allowing Daryl the space to take the shot at them. There were three of them. One, a young woman, had a broken the leg, but still she slumped her way to Wilhelm.

"Shit," Daryl hissed, having run out of arrows. Wilhelm looked back round to him and saw him picking up the rifle.

Wilhelm lunged towards the woman, knocking her over. He picked himself up quickly, running towards the other two. He wasn't going for deathblows, just enough to knock them off their feet and buy him some time. He looked up at Daryl who had the rifle in position. He waved him off.

Daryl jumped down from the tree, sprinting over to Wilhelm.

He made it over to him just as Wilhelm was dislodging the hammer from the woman's head. He shook bits of her off his hand, moving to wipe his hand on his pants, then thinking better of it.

"Let's head back," he said, walking over to the walkers and pulling the arrows out.

Daryl looked at each one, studying their faces. When Wilhelm asked him what he was doing he said, "Fresh blood. Trying to figure out if any of 'em got a hold of anything." He walked over to the two that Wilhelm had taken down first. Their faces were caved in.

Wilhelm joined him. "It was dried, the blood. Nothing fresh. Probably from when they were turned."

Daryl nodded, pushing one of their heads to the side with his boot. It looked like their faces were just huge mouths, couple of teeth could be seen way up where the eyes should have been. Wilhelm chuckled.

"Wanted to make sure they wouldn't get up. Come on, time to head back." He pointed to the squirrels at Daryl's side. "Haven't had squirrel in two weeks, Alana will be happy."

They reached the farm just a couple hours before sunset. Dale was on top the RV. He waved at them when they came into view. He must have called out because a moment later Alana came out from her tent, looking over the field to them. Wilhelm asked Daryl to hold up the string of squirrels. They were too far away for her to see them, but Dale told her what they were.

As they neared the camp Wilhelm told Daryl, "I'll go let Rick and Hershel know what we found today. You can tell Carol, doesn't seem right for me to say anything to her, not knowing her or Sophia." He clapped Daryl on the shoulder before veering off towards the house. "See you at dinner."

Daryl tossed his crossbow on the cot in his tent. Alana watched as he gingerly laid a white flower down as well. When he turned around she looked longingly at the string of squirrels.

"No Bambi?" She asked.

"Nah, no Bambi."

Alana shook her head. "Stupid Bambi," she muttered, "just needs to die." She walked over to Dale and the RV. Daryl could hear her talking to Dale, asking about dinner and what she could do. He sent her and Andrea off to the house, to ask Lori.

Daryl sat down at the small picnic table and pulled out his skinning knife.

Wilhelm came out from the house, Alana and Andrea behind him. He ushered Alana to follow him. He stopped at their tent, picking up the set of knives. Daryl started shifting in his spot when he saw that they were coming his way. They stood on the other side of the table and waited for him to look up.

"You mind teaching her how to skin them?" Wilhelm asked, pointing at the squirrels with the knife set.

Daryl looked up at Alana then back at the squirrels.

"She won't lose her stomach, promise."

Alana nodded. "Promise."

Without looking back up at her Daryl asked for the knife set. His hands were covered in blood, but Wilhelm didn't hesitate to hand it over. Opening it Daryl looked over the knives. Lucky for Alana and unlucky for him, there was a knife suitable for skinning. He pulled it out and set it in front of Alana. He untied a squirrel from the string and tossed it down.

"You start with the skinny ones. Won't have you ruining a nice fat one," Daryl muttered. Alana sat down in front of him, positioning the squirrel in line with Daryl's and grabbing the knife, waiting for his word.

Yay! Another chapter done!

There will be more of Daryl and Alana cleaning squirrels, just wanted to give you guys a little bit for now since I took forever to get this chapter up. Semester starts up next week so the chapter uploads will likely be happening once a week now, but I'll try to keep it on the same day.