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Chapter Twelve

Allie awoke to Daryl's shuffling around the tent. "Mmm, what's going on?" she mumbled.

"I gotta hunt," he told her, kneeling by the side of the cot. "Ya heard them last night; camp needs food."

Allie was sitting up now, looking panic-stricken. "You're leaving?"

"Just 'til tomorrow, alright? I swear it. You don't gotta worry 'bout nothin', I'll come back, I always do." He touched her face as he spoke, trying to calm her. The worry on her face was palpable, and he wasn't too thrilled about leaving her here alone either. But these people had to eat.

"You promise you'll be careful?" she asked him in a small voice.

"Yeah, I promise," he whispered, punctuating his intent with a kiss. "Ain't no one keepin' me from comin' back to ya."

Allie fisted his sleeveless shirt, willing him to be close to her for just a moment longer. She knew he had to go, sure. The camp needed food. But why did it always have to be him?

"You stick by Dale while I'm gone. Don't trust the rest of these bastards. And keep that gun on ya," Daryl instructed.

"I will. I promise," Allie assured him, as he kissed her forehead and walked out of the tent. It was going to be a long day without him.

TWDTWDTWDTWDTWD

"I'm beginning to question the division of labor here," Jacqui complained, as she wrung out a particularly mucky pair of pants.

"You don't have to say that twice," Amy agreed.

"Can someone explain to me how the women wound up doing all the Hattie McDaniel work?" Allie exclaimed.

"The world ended. Didn't you get the memo?" Amy replied with a smirk. Ed was watching the from beside his car, his eyes narrowed into slits.

"It's just the way it is," Carol surmised. "I do miss my Maytag."

"I miss my coffeemaker," Jacqui added.

"I miss blasting Zepplin while driving down the highway, without having to worry about getting eaten," Allie agreed.

"I miss my vibrator!" Amy said.

There was a pause. "Me too," Carol said shyly and the women erupted in laughter.

Ed stomped over to them with a scowl. "What's so funny?" he snarled.

"Just swapping war stories, Ed," Jacqui told him, still grinning.

Ed turned on the blonde now, rage in his eyes. Allie was on her feet before she could even register the movement, glaring at the large man as she stood herself between him and Carol. "Problem, Ed?" she asked him with feigned sweetness.

"Nothin' that concerns you. And you ought to focus on your work. This ain't no comedy club," he spat.

"Well let me tell you what. You don't like the way your laundry is being done, you are welcome to pitch in and do it yourself. Here!" Allie cried as she chucked a shirt at the man. He threw it right back at her, his face contorting in fury.

"Ain't my job missy," he muttered.

"And what is your job, Ed? Sitting on your ass smoking cigarettes?" Amy jabbed sarcastically.

"Well it sure as hell ain't listening to some uppity smart-mouthed bitch. Tell you what," he grabbed Carol roughly by the wrist, surely bruising her. "Come on, let's go."

"I don't think she needs to go anywhere with you, Ed," Allie told him, stepping closer to the man.

"Allie, please. It doesn't matter," Carol said in a hushed tone.

"Hey, don't think I won't knock you on your ass just 'cause you're some college-educated cooze, All right? Now you come on now or you gonna regret it later," Ed threatened.

"So she can show up with fresh bruises later, Ed? Yeah, we've seen them," Jacqui scowled. But Ed only laughed. Shane was approaching now, having noticed the argument from across the quarry.

"Carol, no!" Allie urged.

"Carol, you don't have to," Jacqui simultaneously said.

"You don't tell me what! I tell you what!" Ed shouted, and emphasized his words by slapping Carol across the face. The hit rang out hideously, echoing across the water.

"Think I didn't see you flirtin' with that piece of trash hillbilly last night? Think I ain't seen you lookin' at him, you filthy whore?" Ed growled, slapping Carol once more. In a heartbeat, Allie was scratching at his arm, trying her best to wedge herself between them.

"Get off her! Get off her!" the women were shouting, but Ed wouldn't relinquish his grip on Carol's arm. He'd twisted it so far and at such a discordant angle, Allie was afraid the bone would simply snap. Ed flung Allie to the ground with so much force that she thought she might lose consciousness. Desperately, she scrambled to her feat to attack the man once more. But someone else had beaten her to it.

Shane was straddling Ed, pummeling his face. The wife beater was bloody, begging him to stop. But Shane didn't, or maybe couldn't. The rest of the women were shouting at Shane now, trying to convince him to let up. But not Allie.

No, this man deserved the beating. You take a violent man, the only things he understands are pain and fear. Allie knew that better than anyone. So while Shane beat the man ruthlessly, mutilating his face, Allie stood by and watched. She didn't smile, she didn't grimace in disgust. She just watched, satisfied.

Shane grabbed Ed, "You put your hands on your wife, your little girl or anybody else in this camp one more time, I will not stop next time. Do you hear me? Do you hear me?!"

"Yes," Ed muttered, defeated.

"I'll beat you to death, Ed," Shane promised, finally letting the man go and rising to his feet.

Carol was immediately at her husband's side, "Ed!" she cried, surveying the damage. But Allie couldn't stand to watch this. It was bad enough that he hit her. It was bad enough that she covered the bruises, tried to ignore what he did to her. But watching her fawn over that piece of filth; that was one thing Allie just couldn't stand. When Shane tramped away Allie followed close behind, trying to drown out Carol's sobs of "Ed, I'm sorry. Oh my God. Ed, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Ed. Ed, I'm sorry."

Halfway through the woods Shane spun around on her, his eyes still wild. "What?!" he barked.

She paused a moment, taken aback, then told him, "You did the right thing. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise; they don't have the stomach for it. But that man deserved far worse than what you just gave him. I would have done the same thing…Well, actually, I wouldn't have stopped at all. So you did the right thing. That's all I wanted to say."

For a moment, Shane stared at her with a peculiar look on his face. It was something akin to affection, or admiration, though Allie had never seen him express either sentiment in the time she'd known him. He had this eerie calm about him, a sense of focus and determination. And before Allie could move or blink he had pinned her to the tree behind her, shoving her by her shoulders into the rough bark.

His lips were on hers, his tongue thrust into her mouth. She gagged and groaned in disgust, but by the feel of his hard length against her thigh, she thought he must have mistaken it for some sound of pleasure. She was struggling against his grasp, entirely unsuccessfully. He relinquished her mouth to start sucking at the skin of her neck. His tongue on her made her skin crawl and her stomach heave.

But his journey south did bring one advantage, "Shane! Stop!"

He ignored her, now running his hands under her t-shirt, scratching at her skin. "Stop! Stop!"

She was pushing at him desperately, thrashing around. But that only seemed to rile him up more. He was a predator toying with his play. And she wasn't strong enough to fight him off; she knew that.

So she stopped fighting. She went limp in his arms, and he paused for a moment, confused. But as soon as his grip had lessened, Allie raised her knee with as much strength as she could muster, making the most gratifying contact with his groin.

He fell away from her, wheezing for air, and she leered.

"That was not an invitation to fucking assault me!" she shouted at him. She took out her gun and pointed it at his head, barely in control of her own body. "If you ever touch me again, if you ever so much as pat me on the shoulder, I will kill you, Shane. Do you understand? I will kill you; and I will enjoy every fucking second of it." She spat at him, for emphasis, then pushed past him and back to camp.

TWDTWDTWDTWDTWD

Allie was in the tent she and Daryl shared when she heard the car alarms, then the shouting. She didn't really want to go outside and face the camp. Not yet. Not when she knew Shane would be lurking about. But as the alarm got louder she recognized that she might be needed.

She arrived just in time to see Carl running at a strange man shouting, "Dad! Dad!"

Andrea was out of the truck now and T-Dog as well. Morales was hugging his kids. Allie walked up to Glenn, "Where's Matt? And Merle?"

The way his face fell said it all, "Look, we don't know for sure what happened…" he began.

"Where the fuck are they, Glenn?" Allie shouted, shaking now. She couldn't handle this. Not Matt. Not Matt.

Dale was at her side now, his arm around her shoulder, trying to comfort her. "Where are they?" she repeated, barely able to contain her tears.

"Look- Merle, he went nuts in Atlanta," Andrea began matter-of-factly. "He started shooting up a storm, drawing in walkers. He was putting everyone in danger."

"The new guy had a set of cuffs," T-Dog explained, "He chained him up to these pipes on the roof of the department store. Everything was a mess, he gave me the keys but…I dropped them. Down a drain. I was scared, and I ran. I'm sorry."

"What the fuck T? You couldn't have waited two minutes for someone to pick the fucking lock? And that doesn't explain where Matt is!" she shouted, getting in his face.

"When T-Dog showed up at the truck without Matt, he jumped out to go get him. We didn't have time to talk him out of it, things were happening too fast. Walkers were closing in. I'm sorry, Allie. We don't know what happened to them. They're still in Atlanta," Andrea finished the story.

"Fuck you people," Allie cried, backing away from them. "Fuck all of you! This is how you treat your own people? You just leave them behind to die? I thought I'd be better off in a group, but you people don't have any fucking souls!" She retreated to her tent for the night, body shaking in silent sobs.

TWDTWDTWDTWDTWD

The next morning, to her displeasure, Allie again woke up to shouting. She stumbled out into the woods until she could hear Daryl shouting.

"Son of a bitch. That's my deer! Look at it. All gnawed on by this…filthy, disease-bearing, motherless poxy bastard!" The thumps punctuating his words told her he was kicking the walker.

"Calm down son. That's not helping," she heard Dale say. She was closer now; she could see them through the trees.

"What do you know about it, old man? Why don't you take that stupid hat and go back to "on golden pond"? I've been tracking this deer for miles," Daryl huffed. Allie could hear the frustration in his voice. He turned to Dale, "Allie okay?"

"Yes, but-"

"Daryl," Allie called, in his field of view now. He walked up to her slowly, noting her sour expression, and not particularly enjoying the sensation of dozens of eyes on his back.

"Y'alright?" he asked her quietly.

"I am," she sighed, but he didn't catch her inflection. Daryl strode past her and into camp, expecting her to follow behind.

"Daryl just slow up a bit. I need to talk to you," Shane said.

"About what?" Daryl spat.

"About Merle. There was a…There was a problem in Atlanta."

Daryl stopped in his tracks and stared at the cop with disdain, "He dead?"

"We're not sure."

"He either is or he ain't!" Daryl was pacing now, trying to hide the way his hands shook.

"No easy way to say this, so I'll just say it," the new man interrupted.

"Who are you?" Daryl snarled.

"Rick Grimes," the man said.

"Rick Grimes, you got something you want to tell me?" Daryl growled, scowling at the man.

Rick sighed, "Your brother was a danger to us all, so I handcuffed him on a roof, hooked him to a piece of metal. He's still there."

Daryl paced back and forth, his shoulders haunched. "Hold on. Let me process this. You're saying you handcuffed my brother to a roof, and you left him there?"

He was visibly shaking now. Rick probably assumed it was out of anger, but Allie knew better. This was fear.

"Yeah," Rick replied. And with that Daryl sprung at him. Instantly Shane had Daryl in a headlock, and at this sight, Allie couldn't watch from the sidelines any longer.

"Let him go, now Shane," Allie shouted.

"Choke hold's illegal," Daryl was muttering, struggling to breathe.

"You can file a complaint," Shane bitterly retorted.

"SHANE!" Allie said forcefully, and the man finally looked up at her. But he didn't see the look in her eyes; all he saw was the 9mm pistol pointed at his head. "You let him go. Now."

Shane dropped the still struggling redneck and go to his feet, backing towards Rick. Once he was a safe distance from Daryl, Allie slipped the gun back into the waist of her shorts. She crouched at Daryl's side, taking his face in her hands. She wanted him to focus on her, only her. He was still shaking, rubbing furiously at his eyes to try to conceal the tears.

"Look at me," she murmured, and he finally complied. "We will find them. Okay? I promise."

He stared at her a moment. "Them?"

She nodded, "They left Mattie too. He went back for Merle, and they left them both." Daryl stared at her for a moment more, impressed that she was keeping herself together this well under the circumstances. If she could do it, so could he, he mused.

Allie didn't help him to his feet. She knew he already felt weak, and didn't want to exacerbate the matter. He stood in his own time, scowling at the cop and his new friend.

"Hell with y'all! Just tell me where he is, so I can go get him," Daryl yelled.

"He'll show you. Isn't that right?" Lori said from the RV door.

"I'm going back," Rick confirmed. And Daryl gave him a curt nod, then grasping Allie's hand, headed back to the tent on the opposite side of camp.

Out of view of the rest of the camp, Daryl collapsed on the cot, holding his head in his hands. He was closing himself off, to everything and everyone, but Allie couldn't abide that. She sank into his lap wordlessly, wrapping herself around him. He was still shaking, still fighting back tears. But finally, he rested his head on her shoulder and allowed her to calm him. He melted into her, his breathing slowing down as she ran her fingers through his hair.

"You okay?" she murmured into his neck, once he seemed to have calmed down.

"Are you?" he asked, looking up at her.

She sighed, "Not really." He touched her face, assuring himself that she, at least, was still here. "But we'll find them. We will. Matt went back for him; that means they're together. They're together, and we're going to find them."

Daryl watched her for a moment, his expression becoming stoic. "There ain't gonna be no we."

"Daryl," she said in warning, but he'd already pushed her off of his lap and onto the tent floor. He was up, restless.

"No! Ain't no fucking chance. I ain't losin' you too!" he cried desperately.

Allie wrapped her arms around his stomach in a tight hug, refusing to let him pull away. And he did try. But soon his fingers had become laced in her hair and his lips were pressed to her forehead.

"Daryl," she said soothingly, "I'm safer with you. And we," she emphasized the word by pointing between the two of them, "We are better together. I'm not staying behind again, I just can't. Even if it means going to Atlanta, there's no place safer for me than by your side. And Merle may be your blood but Matt is mine; I can't wait here hoping you'll bring him back any more than you could."

He sighed, pressing her into his chest. "You don't leave my sight, ya got it? Never more than an arm's reach away."

"If that's what you need," she agreed.

"Just gotta know you're safe," Daryl said honestly. He pressed his lips to hers, willing the world to wash away.