Fallon. The name rolled around in her head like a marble in a glass jar. Jasmine sat not far from Jude, who was settled on the wooden stool next to the island in the kitchen. He was scarfing down the leftover beans, his expression of pure ecstasy. She had promised Rick that she would watch Jude until he made a decision as to whether to keep him around or not. Daryl, obviously pissed off by the kid's acceptance, stormed off outside, alone. This worried Jasmine, but she knew he wouldn't go far. Daryl was strong. Quietly, she offered him a napkin, which he gratefully took and wiped his maw.

"This Fallon you spoke of," Jasmine said softly, her voice low so the group couldn't hear. "Who is he?"

Jude paused, then chewed a few more times, before swallowing. "She," he corrected, and then continued to scarf down his food. Once again, he was refusing to open up about anything. Naturally, she assumed that Jude had been through something horrible, and would most likely talk once ready. Nodding, Jasmine glanced over at Abraham who was waiting to take her shift. She wanted to go and talk to Daryl.

"That m-man with the crossbo-ow..." Jude suddenly began. He was looking down at the messy bowl before him. His eyes turned up to meet Jasmine's. "Has he got som-something shoved up his a-ass?" The young woman blinked in confusion for a moment, but then smiled.

"Yeah. I think he sat on one of his arrows at one point," Jasmine mused. "..and it gets to him once in a while." Jude smiled and the two laughed gently. Well, he may be out to kill them all (maybe, maybe not), but Jasmine felt a bit more relaxed. Some light-hearted fun was all she needed.

"Still, h-he saved you," Jude continued, then stopped, nodding in her direction. "Yo-your hair, its short no-now." Jasmine had almost forgotten about the breeze on the back of her neck. She reached up and felt her dark hair.

"Oh, yeah," she agreed, smiling faintly. "He-"

"Cut i-it with the ax," Jude finished. "He wa-was determi-ined to save y-you."

Jasmine recalled the tears in Daryl's eyes as she had told him to save himself, how barbarously he fought, as if her pleading egged him on to fight harder. The thought caused her eyes to drop. Emotion overwhelmed her. "Yes, I suppose he was." Jude grinned happily and then proceeded to bring his plate to the sink, although he awkwardly hovered, unsure of where to put the dish. Jasmine stood up, amused by his childlike behavior, even after the horrors he had spoken of before.

"In here," she directed, taking it from him and placing it in the cold water. Carl was taking Judith up the stairs when she ogled at Jude's rather vibrant curly hair. Confused, Carl stopped.

"I think she likes you," Carl stated bluntly. Jude turned his head to look up at the boy, who was only a few years younger.

"Oh, we-well.." Jasmine could tell he wasn't sure how to react.

"What's her name?" Jude finally asked.

"Judith... kinda like yours."

Jude smiled. "C-cute.."

Carl then awkwardly nodded, and continued his voyage up the stairs. Suddenly Glenn had somehow snuck up on the two, startling Jasmine. He needed a bell.

"Why don't you go find Daryl?" He suggested. "He hasn't come back yet and Carol is beginning to fuss about it." Jasmine remembered how the older man had stormed out of the house in the moment. The femme glanced at Jude, who frowned nervously. Her eyes then floated over to Carol, who was stitching the eye onto the doll in her hands, chattering to a rather stressed Maggie.

"I'll watch him, just go before she has a hemorrhage or something!" Glenn said.

Amused, Jasmine nodded and departed, taking to the door. Rick gave her a nod. "Be safe," he cautioned, handing her Maggie's coat and a lantern. Quickly she tightened the laces on her boots, she gave him a dip of her head, and then slipped out the door. The cold air kissed her cheeks and nipped at her ears, the back of her neck breaking out into goosebumps. Moving as silent as a ghost, she closed the door behind her and crossed to the windowsill, finding the hidden box of matches. She struck the match and lit the lantern, before she stamped out the charred match. The wind was beginning to pick up, the sound of the trees out in the swath of forest creaking and groaning in complaint as they bent and shifted. Raising the lantern, she slowly searched the front lawn. It didn't take long before she noticed the figure sitting on the end of the hill.

"Daryl?" she called softly.

The figure's head turned. Jasmine approached, the fear of it being someone unknown gnawing at the back of her mind. Relief filled her as she noticed the glowing ember from the cigarette in his lips. It was Daryl alright. Jasmine stopped and stood next to Daryl, looking up at the star-flecked sky.

"Shouldn't you be in there with your new friend?" he inquired. He was being rather boorish, still sore over the boy's acceptance. How immature. Daryl took a drag of his cigarette and turned his eyes out toward the canopy. Jasmine, with a heavy sigh, set the lantern next to Daryl and sat down. She adjusted the burner's intensity, the light dimming gently until it was hardly noticeable.

"My new friend is being taken care of," Jasmine shot back, her eyes remaining on the sky. The smell of tobacco filled her nose as he let out another puff of smoke. "You shouldn't be so hostile. He needed help..."

"Yeah, well... he did get us trapped," Daryl reminded her. "Nearly got us killed." The words rolled off his tongue, every drop a corrosive poison. Jasmine shook her head and fell silent. What he was saying was true... maybe something horrible was coming, something no one else but Daryl seemed to see. Granted, everyone was cautious at the moment, but a seventeen-year-old boy needing help wasn't something you was every day. It was a miracle that Carl was alive, and he was even younger. And Judith...

"You have a point," Jasmine murmured. There was more silence as the two watched the moon's massive silver disk begin to rise into the sky. In the distance, an owl softly hooted. The eerie sound caused Jasmine to shiver gently. Her mind continued to wander. Daryl reminded her of an owl... always observant, always quiet. Powerful and beautiful. The breeze was cold, so he'd ruffle his feathers and tough it out...

Something touched her hair- Jasmine flinched, whipping her head around to see that it was only Daryl. The archer had abruptly stopped, hovering, before he proceeded to gently feel her hair.

"Y' look like a boy," he remarked. Jasmine frowned and rolled her eyes. She allowed him to stroke her head, sighing when he drew away. At least he wasn't angry with her anymore. Her eyes fluttered over the moon off in the distance. The owl called once again. No.. Daryl Dixon was more of a wolf than an owl. Built for cruel conditions, built for the cold, built for survival; he was born to trek long distances, born for the hunt, born to kill. He was unpredictable, introverted - he preferred to be left in solitude. Yet he let Rick and everyone near him... why?

"Why didn't you run?" Jasmine suddenly asked, rather surprised when the words left her mouth. Her eyes traveled to Daryl, who looked upon her with his eyes gleaming in the lantern's light. "Why didn't you leave me there and save yourself like I asked you to?" she asked again.

Silence.

Daryl turned his head and took a long drag, before he allowed the smoke to leave his lungs. He tapped the ashes off the end of his cigarette.

"'Cuz.. I need y' around," he replied, his gravelly voice low. The words passed through her like a spirit. Jasmine felt her throat lock up. "Rick needs you around. Carol. Everyone." Tears began to well in her eyes. Jasmine gritted her teeth, her throat closing up completely as she attempted to stop the tears... when suddenly, Daryl reached over and wrapped an arm around her, pulling her into his broad chest. Jasmine's torso twisted while her hips and legs remained partially stationary, leaving her in a rather awkward position as he embraced her. He simply gazed out over the trees down the escarpment, his shale-blue eyes distant in the lamp light. His knees were bent, his elbows resting against his kneecaps, his cigarette resting between two fingers.

Jasmine's body heaved, and suddenly she began to sob. She clutched his charcoal-grey button-up, the material balling into her grasp, her free hand curling against her breast as she buried her face against him. Jasmine felt him shift and noticed him tilt his head back. He took a trembling breath in, and wiped his own eyes, his grip upon her shoulder tightening. Daryl shifted and rested his chin on her head, his hand gently stroking her arm, looking off east of them. After a few moments, she felt him stir, and suddenly his body shuttered, and he began to softly cry. Daryl brought his head down, pressing a kiss against the top of her head for a moment, which Jasmine didn't particularly pay any mind to. There was a long period of time before he perched his jaw on the crown of her head, listening to her continue to cry.

The two remained like that until Jasmine had calmed down, although she hiccuped a few times. Taking a deep breath, she shut her damp eyes. Daryl was so warm, his arms strong and welcoming. She had honestly never really been held by the archer before, but now she understood what she had been missing. It was comforting in times of strife.

Jasmine suddenly felt a wave of embarrassment wash over her and pulled away, letting out a scoff. What was she doing? She was a mess. She wiped her ruddy face, and stood up hastily, taking hold of the lantern. Daryl wouldn't allow her to leave, and caught her by the sleeve. She spun toward him and upon facing him, looked anywhere but his face, her eyes finding a single point on his chest. His eyes were all over her, she knew. It overwhelmed her.

"Daryl," she pleaded softly, her eyes fluttering shyly up to the archer's face. Their eyes met and he looked away, almost as timidly as she had. It seemed that he was coming to from... whatever had come over him.

"Yeah, go..." Daryl finally said. Jasmine could tell that he wanted her to say. Having caught him at a time where he wasn't putting up the wall he usually did and shutting her out, she felt almost hesitant to simply escape because she didn't know what to expect. There she stood, completely torn, as she felt the same intense fire of emotion she had the evening they were drunk.

"Whatever, go," he repeated. With a flip of his hands, he turned and walked off into the inky shadows, and then around the side of the lodge. The moon was slowly choked out by clouds, leaving Jasmine with an unbearable emptiness in her chest, all alone in the dark...

She felt hollow.


Everybody had retired for the evening long ago. The young woman finished up in the bathroom, having taken a bath for once, feeling completely clean. Her hair had a natural luster, given that it was easier to wash now that it was short. She was thankful that she didn't have to deal with such a tangled mess anymore. After quickly combing her dark hair out, Jasmine exited the bathroom and padded down the empty hallway. Jasmine had just exchanged shifts with Michonne so she could get some rest, and so that was what she was going to do. She was just about at her door, when she heard the gentle clatter of a glass being set down on a hard surface.

Jasmine frowned in confusion, taking to the banister. The entire foyer was in darkness, the only source of light being the faint glow of a candle in the kitchen. At first, she wondered if it was Abraham sneaking a drink before bed... but as she looked over her shoulder and down toward the halls, in the dark, she saw that his door was shut and the light was just being put out. Swallowing, Jasmine took to the stairs and headed down, the creaking of the steps almost unbearably loud in the silence.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, she narrowed her eyes against the warm light, peering over at Rick. He stood, leaning against the island counter, a cup of rum in his hand. He drank slowly, his eyes far off and distant. She frowned, and approached.

"Rick?" Jasmine murmured.

The scruffy gentleman jerked his head up, startled by the sound of her voice. He let out a gentle sigh, almost as if in relief. He shifted, set his glass on the counter, and then ran a hand over his face. He looked exhausted. Why was he up so late?

"Did Michonne relieve you?" he asked, his words a bit slurred.

Jasmine eyed him as she came closer. "Yes... " She paused, coming to a stop next to him. "Why are you drinking?" Rick glanced over at the bottle and the glass on the counter. He didn't respond, he simply cleared his throat, and avoided her eyes.

"Uh.. I.. can't seem to sleep," he finally replied. He was definitely hiding something, but Jasmine wasn't going to pry. She simply leaned her slender back against the counter.

"Daryl didn't come back inside?" inquired Rick, rather concerned.

Jasmine swallowed, her gaze fixating on the floor. "Uh.. no.."

There was a moment of silence. Jasmine could feel Rick giving her a puzzled look, before he returned to his cup. The silence ensued. She listened to him finish up his drink, and then went to pour another. Jasmine reached over and stilled his hand.

"Rick," she began, looking up at him. The leader gave her a rather blank look, before she guided his hand back down to the surface of the table. "You should go upstairs. I'll put this away."

His eyes held her for a moment before they trailed away from her face. Rick nodded, and straightened up... unfortunately, he staggered rather than walked, falling into Jasmine was a grunt. He mumbled an apology. Taking him by the hand, she guided the leader to the stairs, who didn't complain and followed without hesitation. Escorting him carefully down the hallway to his bedroom, Jasmine unlocked the door and helped Rick walk carefully inside.

"Will you be okay for the evening?" she asked, frowning. She hoped he wouldn't wake the group up again like the last time they had all drank. "Would you like me to grab you some water?"

Rick sat down on his bed and shook his head, looking up at her. "Nah, I'll live."

Jasmine studied him for a moment before she finally nodded. The young woman then began to turn, when she was suddenly stopped by Rick's callused hand as it wrapped around her wrist. Jasmine stiffened, feeling her heart cease up and then begin to flutter. What was he trying to pull?

Before she could turn around and ask him, Judith began to whine from her hand-made crib. Rick released her, and she crossed the room with a gentle sigh. Coming to the side of the bed, she reached down and retrieved the child. Jasmine cradled the babe in her arms and hushed her, cooing and making soft noises in order to calm the child. Slowly, she turned, wandering across the hard floor, her body rocking soothingly. With a gentle flick of her head, Jasmine felt her bangs flutter to the side so they didn't simply hang in her eyes.

Slowly, she approached Rick, who stood up and came to meet her in the middle. Unsure of whether he was going to fall over or not, she didn't give him the baby, in case he ended up taking a tumble. Judith would get hurt if her father weren't careful. Rick came close, the smell of alcohol on him. He came so close, in fact, that she could even smell the faint aroma of the lye soap he had used at some point during the day. Judith's father hunched over ever so slightly and reached over, gently brushing her hair with his thumb.

Jasmine, her eyes once upon Judith, turned her gaze up toward her tipsy comrade. Their eyes met, and in the candle light, he swallowed. "Stay," he murmured softly. The leader was close to her that she felt his breath tickle her cheeks. Unsure of what to really do, she remained still. Rick's hand gently curled around her forearm and he leaned in.

Their lips met, and butterflies violently fluttered around inside of her stomach. He tasted like rum, the spicy flavor leaving her dazed as his mouth gently worked against hers. The moment seemed to last forever - she couldn't remember whether she was kissing back or not, but soon his stubble parted with her soft skin, and their lips were no longer caressed. She exhaled, her cheeks on fire, her heart hammering. His dull blue eyes rested upon her own jade orbs, and for a moment, she was at a loss for words.

Clearing her throat, she shut her partially parted lips and her gaze dropped. Jasmine returned Judith to her crib, followed by Rick, who strode up to stand beside her. Again, his strong hand gently snaked it's way around her waist, caressing her side, and she felt him move for her neck. Jasmine, her jaw set and her eyes closing, brushed him off. She felt so overwhelmed in the moment, thinking of how it all felt so wrong. Her eyes began to burn with tears. The young woman silently opened Rick's bedroom door the rest of the way and left the room. The door shut behind her and she turned, abruptly coming to a halt. Daryl's silhouette was just disappearing down the hall.

Once again, she felt her face lose it's pigment. Rushing for the end of the hall, she came to the banister and stared down into the darkness, hoping he would come back. Jasmine desperately wanted to explain herself whether he had seen anything or not. Her heart hammered and she held her breath. Darting for the staircase, she had just made it down three of the wooden stairs when the door slammed shut.


[Author's Note:] ! I feel really bad for Daryl in this scene. He comes out of his shell and starts blindly acting upon his emotions without really thinking much. This kind of scares Jasmine and so she rejects him, only to piss him off further when he witnesses Jasmine and Rick's little situation. Poor Daryl; he just can't catch a break!

To times in one might, the poor thing. Keep reading to find out what happens next!