Chapter Twelve

Disclaimer: The Walking Dead belongs to Robert Kirkman and AMC. I own nothing. Just the epilogue after this, guys!

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Daryl didn't come back to camp that night.

Andrea lay in her tent and listened for the rustle of boots on grass, for a knock at her tent door, for …. Anything. Something.

Don't write the possibility of us off so soon because of who we used to be – Andrea, you're an idiot, she thought as she closed her eyes and replayed their conversation in the woods, the one right before he'd told her to take a hike and leave him be. Why, why did she think that spilling her guts to Daryl Dixon was a good idea? Why did she think that just because they'd kissed twice and spent a night in the woods, she somehow knew him and thought that bombarding him with her tentative feelings was a good idea?

She rolled onto her back and grumbled. "Last time I ever listen to you, Dale."

The sun was slowly rising and Andrea hadn't yet been to sleep, but she emerged from her tent bleary-eyed and irritable. The heat hadn't abated any, and even the short walk from her tent to the watering hole left her dripping with sweat.

She wasn't surprised to find Carol there. Ever since Sophia came out of the barn, she had barely slept; many times Andrea had found the older woman wandering the camp, clutching Sophia's doll like a talisman. She always ended up at their small cemetery, though, slumped in front of the makeshift cross that marked her daughter's resting place.

"Don't go." Carol said as Andrea approached.

"I wasn't going to."

"Good." Carol barely glanced over her shoulder, her eyes fixed on the water catcher. "People think they need to treat me with kid gloves because of … Sophia. But we've all lost someone."

"Sophia was your daughter."

"Does that make my loss worse than yours?"

Andrea moved to stand next to Carol and began to splash her face. "Parents shouldn't outlive their children."

They washed in quiet for several minutes until Carol spoke again. "You look tired."

"I didn't get much sleep last night."

Carol gave her a small smile. "Daryl will come back, Andrea."

Andrea looked surprised. "I didn't realise anyone else noticed that he was missing."

"Of course I did." Carol said. "I noticed that you were missing, noticed Daryl went after you. He's a good man, Andrea. But I don't think I need to tell you, that, do I?"

Andrea felt a flush rise up her cheeks. "I don't think he'll be coming after me any time soon."

Carol tipped her head to one side and squinted against the harsh morning light. "What makes you say that?"

Andrea shuffled her feet, suddenly desperate to confide in someone. She thought back to that time at the quarry, where she had sat with Carol, Amy and Jacqui while they washed and shared what they had missed about their old lives, like four girlfriends. She looked at Carol again, her mind on that time, the only time when Ed had been alive where she had seen Carol smile. Did Carol want someone to confide in?

"We, uh … I said some things to him yesterday." She said. "Things that felt like they needed to be said at the time, but now I've said them …" She shook her head. "Whatever." She said, a nervous giggle escaping her mouth. "I seem to be making a habit of that: speaking without thinking."

"Maybe you're just saying what needs to be said."

"I don't think Daryl needed to hear what I had to say."

"Daryl needs to be loved, Andrea." Carol said. "He needs to be shown that he's a good man, that he's valued, appreciated – that he matters. He's never had that."

Andrea's mind flickered back to that morning, that sweaty morning three days ago when she and Daryl had stood in the forest and he had insisted that he saw a chupacabra. And she told him that she believed him, because she had. She did. And she just wanted the chance to show him that once more.

"We saw it." She blurted out. "The chupacabra, I mean. We found it, yesterday afternoon."

Carol wasn't looking at Andrea, however. Instead, her gaze was drawn to something beyond Andrea's shoulder, behind them. "I think you found something else, too." She said, and when Andrea turned around, she almost caught her breath as she saw Daryl walk out of the forest.

###

He looked the same: work pants and a plaid shirt, sweaty and dirty, a crossbow clung across his body along with a rope of dead squirrels. Her mind flickered to soft smiles over a camp fire and squirrel that tasted almost like chicken. Soft shoulders and gruff smiles and an overwhelming feeling of safety and security when she went to sleep. She swallowed a little. Where had he been?

He caught her as she was walking towards her tent. "You're up early. Plannin' another nature walk?"

Andrea didn't break stride as he approached her. "You're back." She said as she screwed the lid on her water canteen and wiped at her wet face.

"You thought I was gonna leave?" The look on his face clearly indicated that he thought so.

"Well, you're the one who walked off into the forest."

He crossed his arms and stared at her. "You're usin' your Lawyer Voice again." He said, following her towards her tent.

"Huh, well how about that." Andrea brushed aside the flap to her tent and stepped inside.

"You pissed at me?" Daryl followed her into her tent.

"No." Andrea busied herself with searching for clean clothes. Where was her last pair of clean panties?

"You still ain't lookin' at me."

"So you automatically think I'm pissed at you because I have other things to do with my day? Wow, Dixon, you think a lot of yourself." Jeans, she knew that she had a cleanish pair of jeans somewhere. They were her last pair.

Daryl's dirty hands appeared in her peripheral vision, halting her search for clothes. He was standing right next to her, watching her carefully, and she felt his gaze on the crown of her head.

"Andrea, if this is about what ya said yesterday-"

"Let's just forget it, alright?" She said, her cheeks flushing as he used her name. It was a stupid, impossibly teenaged thing to do but she couldn't help it. She didn't think he'd ever used her name; it sounded nice, the way he worked his mouth around the consonants.

Now he looked confused. "Ya follow me into the woods and give me some heartfelt speech and now ya want to forget it?"

Andrea shrugged and let her gaze meet his. He was still sweaty and dirty and still bore the brunt of his scrap with Shane, but his blue eyes were clear and were watching her with a curious, cautious expression.

"I just ... I tend to speak without thinking." She said finally. "It's dumb, really – makes me act crazy and say and do things I wouldn't normally do."

His lips curled upwards a little. "Isn't that when ya say things ya really mean?"

Andrea folded her arms across her chest and met his gaze once more. "You tell me." She said.

Daryl swallowed once, twice. He looked nervous. "I, uh …" His voice trailed off, and Andrea raised her eyebrows expectantly.

Daryl exhaled a long breath, and lifted his crossbow over his shoulder, setting it down on the floor. The string of squirrels and (she could now see) rabbits followed. When his wares were unloaded, Daryl returned his attention to Andrea.

"You're one stubborn woman, ya know." He said.

"Told you: you're the dictionary definition of hard work." Andrea muttered.

"Ya." Daryl gave her a small smile. "Been told that before."

He touched her then, reached out his hand and let his fingertips trail up her bare forearm, still folded across her body. His fingertips trailed fire up her bare skin and she could feel him trembling.

"Thought about what you said." He said. "What you said to me, last night in the woods."

"Which part?" Andrea's voice was suddenly husky.

"Ya don't know anythin' about me, Andrea." He said. "Ya only know what you're seen since we were stuck together after the CDC, which is what – two weeks at most? Ya don't know me and I don't know you. But you were right: I'm a stubborn bastard."

"You finally admit it." Andrea muttered.

"But so are you. We'd fight like hell, ya know. Rest of camp would hate it when we went at it. We did nothin' but bicker those two days we were out there."

Andrea blew out a deep breath and looked up at Daryl. He looked wired and about to bolt, but he hadn't, and she didn't think he was going to. She smiled a little. He was trying. Maybe that meant she could, too.

"Okay then." She said. "Maybe it's about time we got to know each other a little more?"

Daryl's cheeks went bright pink and his eyes darted to her bed. "Uh …." His gaze travelled down her body and she felt a flush of pure desire go through her when his lips parted. Obviously he liked what he saw.

"No!" She exclaimed, rolling her eyes. "Men."

"You're the one suggesting we get to know each other while we're standin' next to your bed. You keep usin' your Lawyer Voice and you might have a deal." His voice was a little huskier than usual.

Andrea gave him a mollifying look, before extending her hand. "Hi. I'm Andrea." She said.

He looked nonplussed. "What the hell you doin'?"

"Getting to know each other, like we should have done from the beginning."

He clearly wasn't getting it. "You shittin' me?"

She glared at him. "Do I look like I'm shitting you?"

He stared down at her hand. "Guess not."

She tried again. "Hi. I'm Andrea: former civil rights lawyer, sharpshooter and survivor of the zombie apocalypse."

Daryl tongued his cheek for a moment before taking her offered hand. "Daryl Dixon." He said. "Hunter, tracker, also a survivor of the zombie apocalypse."

Andrea smiled. "Wow. We only just met and we have something in common."

"Isn't that something?"

"Yup. You have any siblings?"

Daryl's face went dark, but he didn't shy away from her question. "A brother. Merle. Mean son of a bitch."

"Where is he?"

"Dead, missing or worse."

"See, that's two things we have in common." Andrea said. "My sister's dead too. Her name's Amy."

"Must have been hard."

"You have no idea."

He smirked. "You really think this is going to work?"

Andrea shrugged. "All I know is that for the first time in a long time, I want to live. I want to tell someone about my life, and hear about theirs." She paused then, taking a deep breath before she threw herself off the emotional ledge. "I want that person to be you."

Something flickered and yawned behind his blue eyes, and he smirked a little. "Ya want to know about Lucy, huh?"

"Lucy, Merle, your mom, dad: whoever." Andrea shrugged. "Tell me a story about your life; I don't care about the end."

###

"You know, you setting up your tent all the way out here – people will start to talk." Andrea said as she helped him assemble his tent.

"Let 'em. All they seem to do, anyway." Daryl said.

"Yeah. Was kinda nice, being out in the woods, away from all the drama."

"Ya got that right."

They assembled Daryl's tent in half the time it would usually take, and Andrea stretched out against the adjacent oak tree, closing her eyes and appreciating the meagre shade it brought.

"I can see why you parked yourself all the way out here." She said, fighting the urge to kick off her shoes and feel the grass beneath her feet.

Half-opening her eyes, she could see Dale and Carol appraising her from their own makeshift camp. Dale gave her a grin and a wave, and she waved back, her smile tentatively crossing her mouth. She didn't know where things with her and Daryl would go, only that she went into the woods searching for a chupacabra and some peace and quiet and found something else, something that she hadn't even know she was looking for until he offered her his hand and his crossbow and taught her how to kill a deer. Despite his efforts, he wasn't going to be easy to care about or even love. It wasn't until recently that she had begun to like him. But now she did, so she figured she'd done the hardest part.

"Penny for 'em?" He dropped down next to her, a pile of dry twigs in his hand.

Andrea tipped her head towards the RV and the makeshift camp. "Dale and Carol are spying on us." She could feel the blush begin to rise in her cheeks.

Daryl clearly caught it too, for he asked, "That a problem for ya?"

Andrea caught his gaze. "Not so much."

Acting on impulse, she leaned towards him and gently pressed her mouth to his. Her lips were teasing, gentle, almost experimental. She wasn't one for outward displays of affection and she guessed that Daryl certainly wasn't, but she just wanted a little taste.

He was surprised at her contact but certainly didn't try to push her away. Like hers, his lips were gentle and unsure, but they responded after several seconds, becoming rougher and more urgent the longer they kissed. When she eventually pulled away, they were both slightly breathless.

"What was that for?" His voice was husky and low.

"Just … wanted to." She said, giving him an embarrassed smile.

"Ya havin' one of those actin' without thinkin' moments?"

"Pretty much. Worked out okay so far, don't you think?"

He didn't say anything, just smirked and gestured that she light their makeshift fire.

###

The sun was setting across the valley as Andrea licked rabbit and squirrel fat off her fingers. "Mmmm that was good." She said, leaning back against the oak tree and letting the now-cool grass work between her bare toes. "Sure is beautiful." She murmured, her gaze on the slowly-setting sun and the reds and purples it unleashed across the land. "Where were we, when we camped out?"

Daryl's eyes shifted east and he pointed with a stray twig. "'bout ten, fifteen miles that way." He said. "There should be a ridge – ya can't see it now in the dark, but it's there. That's where we camped."

Andrea smiled, her gaze torn between the glorious sunset and the man whose face was gently illuminated by the fire. She didn't know how or when it had happened, or if either of them had been aware of it, but what had begun as a morning of tent assembly had become a date; a fully-fledged candlelit (or bonfire) dinner date.

"My mom and dad used to take us to this place, not far from our house." Andrea closed her eyes and let the memory wash over her. "This campsite, we went there all the time. It wasn't much but we used to fish and hike and me and dad would always cook whatever we caught; mom and Amy were so sick of fish dinners by the end of our vacations, but we'd always do the same thing, every year. Except for one year, we went on this historical tour of these old Civil War battlefields. My dad was a history nut and he dragged us to all these places." Her smile turned sad, then. "That was two years ago." She said, realisation dawning. "That was our last family vacation. Last summer I had to work last-minute, couldn't get away, they had to go without me." She looked down, unsure as to why she had just told him that, but that was what people did on dates, right? It had been so long, she couldn't remember how to be on one.

Daryl didn't say anything for a while, but when he did, his voice was husky and unsure and he kept his eyes on the campfire the whole time.

"When I was a kid, my mamma ... she was determined me an' Merle were gonna have better than she had, better than working some crappy drunk shack off the highway with no future. So she used to take us to the library, on her day off. I used to bitch about it at the time because I wanted to be out in the forest, playin' with Merle or my friends. My old man was never there, even after mamma ... and then Merle left ... bein' in the library made me feel close to her, meant I could go there when I didn't want to go home or into the woods."

Andrea looked down. Coming from a secure family, she could not imagine how hard it must have been for him to lose his mom. "Must have been hard." She said. Then, swallowing frantically, she asked, "Was the library where you met Lucy?"

He nodded, his gaze still fixed on the fire. "She was one of the assistants, worked there after school. Used to let me have way more books out on loan than she should have because she knew I didn't want to go home and couldn't afford to buy any." He swallowed thickly. "You remind me of her, a bit." He said. "Smart, took no shit. Took me awhile but I asked her out, went to the movie theatre outside town. Her folks … they didn't want us hangin' around each other." He gave her a wry, if impossibly sad, smirk. "Dixons were trash in our town, and Lucy wasn't trash. Anyway, she gets accepted to this fancy school up north, full scholarship. By then me and her … we'd been seein' each other a while, made her folks all kinds of crazy … I told her to go." He kicked at the fire with his boot. "Told her to go, get out of town, make somethin' of herself – she wasn't going to do that hangin' around our piece of shit home town."

Andrea bit her lip. "That must have been hard." All too easily could she imagine Daryl driving Lucy away. He was right, of course – it had been for the girl's own good, but she couldn't help but wonder at its own quiet tragedy. Another person who had left him, even if he had driven her away.

She wondered if Lucy had ever realised what Daryl had done that day, where harsh words and probably tears had been exchanged. She wondered if Lucy Sanders had survived the end of the world and was now sitting somewhere, looking up at the same night and talking about the boy from her home town who had used his harsh tongue and angry words to give her an opportunity away from the life they knew.

Daryl kept his eyes on the fire. "Must be a pretty anticlimactic story." He said, tossing errant twigs onto the fire. "Now I built it up so much. Shoulda just kept it to myself, kept ya guessin' awhile longer."

Andrea gave him a smile, their faces lit by the flames. "I'm glad you told me."

He stared at her long at hard. "She, uh … it's been a while since I did this." He gestured to their bodies, their words. "Guess I fucked it up then too, huh?"

"You acted in Lucy's best interests back then." Andrea said. "She probably didn't see it at the time but I bet she does now. And you aren't fucking it up now - why would you think that?"

When no answer was forthcoming, she stood up and held out her hand. He stared at her questioningly for a few seconds, but took it, his palms damp and large, encasing hers. With a little tug, she walked him towards his tent, taking care to douse the fire, close the flap and collect their weapons as they went.

It was different to what she was expecting. Not that she had put a whole lot of thought into what sex with Daryl would be like, but she had expected something other than the heated touches and soft moans against her flesh, the way his toes curled as she kissed the skin that covered his femoral artery and listened to the way his heart pumped blood around his body. She hadn't been expecting haltingly unsure touches at first until they became a little more sure of each other or the way his sweat would taste on her skin. She certainly hadn't been expecting the way her head would find it's way onto his shoulder and he would move his arm to accommodate her, just as he had when they slept in that oak tree.

In fact, the only thing she had been expecting was the way she felt secure in Daryl's arms, the same way she had when they fell asleep together. Regardless of what would happen next between them, she knew that Daryl would always keep her safe. And in their world, that kind of security was rarer than a chupacabra.

TBC …..