Gone Shootin'

"Feel the pressure rise
Hear the whistle blow
Bought a ticket of her own accord
To I dunno
Packed her heart in a travellin' bag
And never said bye bye
Something missing in the neighbourhood
Of her cryin' eyes"

-Gone Shootin', AC/DC

Olivia hesitated outside the door. She was still pissed beyond belief at Andrea and she didn't want to snap at anyone else. Especially not Daryl. She heard Hershel still talking to him in the room and she decided to wait for the Doctor to leave. It gave her an opportunity to calm down.

After a couple of minutes of deep breathing, rolling out the tension in her shoulders, and counting to ten Hershel came quietly out of the room. He saw Olivia standing there and sent her a knowing look. She scowled up at him and took another deep breath. It wasn't a good idea to snap at the man who was going to be taking her stitches out.

"Is he gonna be okay?" She asked through gritted teeth.

"He's going to be fine." Hershel reassured her. "Though I can't say the same about his attitude. Boy could use some lessons in manners. And personal hygiene, for that manner."

Olivia had to let out a laugh at that. She couldn't blame the man for speaking the truth. "He is a little rough around the edges, isn't he?"

"That's an understatement." Hershel chuckled. "You yourself could use some lessons in personal hygiene. You must have met a Walker, by the looks of you. Or butchered a cow." He gave a disapproving nod at her grimy appearance. "Feel free to clean up in the bathroom down the hall."

Despite her growing irritation with the man she was surprised by his kindness. "Really? You'll let me clean up in here?"

"It's a one time deal. I worked too hard on those stiches of yours." He walked past her and began descending the creaky stairs. "The last thing you need is getting an infection. We only have so much supplies to go around, young lady."

Feeling rather like she was being berated by her father, Olivia looked down at her filthy bare feet, abashed. "Well, uh, thank you, Mr. Hershel." She told him sincerely. "What about Carl? How's he doing?"

"The boy is making a speedy recovery. He can probably get up and his feet tomorrow."

"That kid's made of some pretty tough stuff." Olivia agreed, feeling proud of the young boy. "Thank you again. For everything."

Hershel nodded and turned to leave. "Try not to wear him out, Ms. Bridges. Mr. Dixon there needs his rest."

Olivia felt her cheeks heat up at the man's insinuation, and turned hurriedly away from him. There was something about the old man that made her feel like she was in the principal's office. Maybe it was his age, or maybe that he was a doctor but she held a grudging respect for him. She would never turn her anger against him.

She opened the door and entered quietly—not wanting to wake Daryl if he was asleep. She shut the door behind her and turned her attention to the man on the bed.

On hearing the door creak open, Daryl had yanked his blanket up to his chest and rolled over to face his visitor with a groan of pain. "Oakley?" He wondered. "What? Did you come to yell at me?" He had heard her shooting her mouth off at Andrea down on the porch—it was right below his window—and was more than a little nervous that she had come to do same to him. He was already in enough pain—he didn't need a headache too.

She shot him a confused look as she stood awkwardly next to his bed. "Yell at you? Why would I do that?"

Daryl just looked at her before grunting and laying back on the bed. "Why the hell are you here then?"

Olivia grounded her teeth before sitting heavily on his bed. He jumped slightly and glared at her. She had slightly jostled him and he had tensed his abdomen—pulling at his stitches. She rolled her eyes at his reaction—uncomfortable with talking about actual feelings and the fact that she even needed a reason to visit him. "I don't know. We're acquaintances. You were shot. Acquaintances are entitled to checking up on one another."

Daryl stared at her as she fiddled awkwardly on the bed. She was covered in dirt and sweat. Her clothes were stained with dark globs of red, which Daryl assumed was Walker blood. He wondered why she didn't seem to a have a quick retort to his question and then he had a moment of sudden clarity. "Oh. You're worried about me. Careful there, Oakley, people might think you care."

Olivia's cheeks lit up. He had hit the nail on the head—but she wasn't going to admit it. And she had so many conflicting emotions at the moment—anger, embarrassment, worry—she couldn't come up with a witty retort. She just turned away from him angrily and scowled at the ground.

"Shit, Oakley. Are you blushing?" Daryl laughed, catching Olivia's rosy cheeks. "Huh. So this is how it feels? No wonder you're always spoutin' off innuendos. This is downright entertainin'."

"Fuck off, Dixon." She said angrily, blushing harder. She made a move to get up and storm off but Daryl quickly grabbed her wrist.

"C'mon, Oakley, don't get your panties in a twist. You've teased me way worse. 'Sides, I've been shot. You've got to put up with me." He gave her a lazy smirk and released her wrist once he saw she wasn't going anywhere. He didn't know if it was the painkillers kicking in or the fact that he finally got one on Olivia but he was in a surprisingly good mood for being shot. And she wasn't terrible company, neither.

"You're going to play the injured card?" Olivia scoffed, resorting to sarcasm to cover her embarrassment.

Daryl didn't say anything at first—just continued to smirk at her as she fiddled around next to him. He could sense that something had changed between them. Maybe it was the painkillers making him loopy or his brush with death making him brazen, but Olivia didn't seem to have the same effect over him. He was more confident and beginning to understand her more—especially after the spider incident. Olivia liked to talk a big game but deep down she was a regular woman. Just as scared and confused as the rest of them.

It also helped that during his struggle to make it back to camp he had Merle chirping in his ear. Telling Daryl to not be such a pussy and let a girl walk all over him—although his brother's voice hadn't said it in as nice as terms as that. Nonetheless the tiny brunette with the big blue eyes didn't intimidate him anymore—and to him that was a huge advantage.

"Don't need to play any card. I am injured." He said after a while and she scowled at him, which did nothing but amuse him. She was like a kitten throwing a hissy fit. Absolutely adorable but not intimidating at all.

Olivia's glare slipped into a smirk as a thought occurred to her. "Guess that means it's my turn to be overprotective." She lowered her voice in an attempt to impersonate Daryl. "You can't come out with us. You gotta stay behind and focus on gettin' better, Legolas, you'll only slow us down."

"Funny." Daryl grunted, closing his eyes—he could feel waves of exhaustion kicking in. "But I didn't hurt my leg, like you. I can walk just fine. All's I need is a good nights rest. I'll be up lookin' for the little girl again tomorrow."

"That is so not going happen." Olivia laughed, cooing in a taunting manner. "You'll just pop your stitches and wind up right back here."

"I just found her damn doll." Daryl snapped. "Can't give up now."

"Don't worry. We'll go out lookin' tomorrow." Olivia reassured him softly—her embarrassment gone as she looked at the injured man. His eyes were closed and he looked relaxed—despite the bandage taped to his head. "What exactly happened out there, Daryl?"

"That fuckin' horse bucked me off. Fell down a hill and my arrow went clean through me. Had to pull the arrow out to kill a Geek." He added the last part in a vain attempt at impressing her. He wasn't disappointed.

"Huh. Wow. And then you got shot." He smirked sleepily at Olivia, as she looked closer at the bandage on his head. He jumped slightly when he felt her fingers on his forehead—pushing up a bit of white gauze that was falling over his brow but quickly relaxed. Her hands were cool and felt nice on his throbbing head. "So you've had just a great day then."

"Yeah." He yawned and groaned as his bruised ribs expanded. "Not plannin' on doin' it again."

Olivia opened her mouth to reply but there was a knock at the door and Carol came in balancing a tray on her forearms. Daryl instantly jerked up the blanket further up on his chest and Olivia snapped her hand back away from stroking his forehead.

Carol watched silently as the two leapt apart; flushing like two teenagers caught kissing—it was quite funny to see. "Sorry if I'm interrupting anything." Carol said coyly, setting down the tray on the bedside table. Olivia jumped to her feet and quickly stepped away from Daryl's bed—feeling as if her closeness to him had suddenly become too intimate. "How are you feeling?" Carol asked him.

He peered at her before grumpily rolling away—really feeling his exhaustion now and missing the feeling of Olivia's hands. "'Bout as good as I look."

Carol gave him a small smile before straightening out and walking towards the door. "Dinner's ready. If you want to join us." She told Olivia. "I brought you some dinner too, Daryl. You must be starving."

Olivia nodded. "I'm going to quickly wash up." She murmured to Carol before dashing down the hall.

Carol watched as Olivia scuttled out with a small smile. It was strange seeing the usually confident woman shy and embarrassed. Carol wondered exactly what she had interrupted. She shifted her gaze to Daryl and felt a wave of appreciation sweep over her as she took in his bandaged head. He had risked his life trying to find Sophia. Not even her own father would have done that.

Carol leaned over Daryl and kissed the side of his wounded head. He flinched slightly and shot her a confused glare. "Watch out, I got stitches." He told her gruffly.

She chuckled lightly at his boyish reaction but couldn't help but feel a bit hurt. She bet he wouldn't have reacted that way if it was Olivia who had kissed him. And she couldn't blame him. Olivia seemed like a strong and confident woman—not to mention she was pretty. Olivia was petite with bright blue eyes and a mess of curly brown hair. It was no surprise Daryl would be attracted to her.

And she knew how to take care of herself—Carol thought back to when Olivia saved her life. Maybe if Carol was even just a teensier bit more like her Sophia would be here, safe rather than lost in the woods—probably terrified. Carol resolved in that moment to try and be more like Olivia. She would harden her heart and stop relying on others—not just for herself but for little Sophia as well. With Walkers wandering around—there was no room left for soft people. And Ed was gone—there was nothing holding her back.

Carol returned her gaze once more to Daryl he just further fueled her desire to toughen up. He had done so much her and her family—she would repay him by not being such a weakling. "You need to know something." She began and he turned his head to look up at her curiously. "You did more for my little girl today than her own daddy did in his whole life."

Daryl turned back around—settling into the blankets. He hid his face from her—slightly embarrassed. She made him sound like he was some kind of hero. He wasn't no hero—exactly the opposite, in fact. He had just been doing the right thing, searching for the girl. "I didn't do anything Rick or Shane wouldn't have done."

"I know." Carl humored him. "You're every bit as good as them. Every bit." Daryl didn't say anything but Carol could tell her words sunk in and she was glad. She wanted him to know exactly how important she felt he was. "Olivia seems to think so too." She couldn't resist adding, wanting to discover exactly what Olivia and Daryl's relationship was.

"Huh. What? Olivia?" Carol watched as his cheeks flushed as he stumbled through his words. "You're crazy, woman. Nah, she was just here to give me a hard time 'bout bein' injured. S'all it was."

"That's why she was stroking your face?"

Daryl hunched his shoulders and brought his blanket higher over him self-consciously. "Jesus Christ. She was just fixing my bandage!"

"Seems like it's wrapped pretty good." Carol said smugly, enjoying teasing the man. "I'll stop bothering you, though. Get some rest, Daryl."

She left the room and Daryl turned his head to make sure she was really gone. Only when he was alone did he allow himself a small smile. The thought of Olivia caring for him set off a fire in his chest and he couldn't say he hated the feeling. A part of him hoped Carol was right about her.

The next morning found everyone up with the sun. The delicious meal the ladies had prepared the night before and Daryl finding Sophia's doll had proved to lift everyone's spirits. Glenn was making his rounds—handing out peaches from a basket. Daryl had been helped down from the Greene house and back to his tent. He was lounging around watching everyone skitter about their day. Even Carl was out and about—doing trivial tasks with Lori to get his strength up. It was shaping up to be a beautiful day.

Tony and Olivia had woken up before the sun and after a quick breakfast had headed out to look for Sophia where Daryl had indicated on the map. They didn't want to waste one second of daylight.

It took nearly three hours but they were able to get to the ridge and Olivia was amazed by the hill Daryl had had to climb up. It was more of a cliff than a hill, in her opinion.

"So, he found the doll here on the creek bed." Tony said rolling out the map Rick had given them earlier. "Rick is thinking she dropped it north of here and the current brought it here. Shane's going to the housing development there, so…"

"So we'll go more west then, follow the stream. We'll check out these houses here." Olivia agreed pointing to an area of the map, which followed the stream. Tony nodded, rolling the map back up and stuffing it in his backpack. They continued to hike up through the valley looking for signs of life. Rick had suggested they ask Hershel to borrow some horses but they chose not to. Neither Olivia nor Tony knew how to ride and after what happened to Daryl they were all the more reluctant.

"Rick mention what the rest of the group is doin' today?" Tony asked after they had long gotten out of the valley and into the secluded woods that followed the creek. "Since they're not out here lookin' with us?"

"Gun trainin'. And 'bout time if you ask me. Don't want another Andrea repeat." Olivia retorted moodily.

Tony rolled his eyes at his temperamental sister. "That's not fair, Liv. It was a good shot for a beginner. "

"I never said it was a bad shot. I said she needs to learn gun safety." Olivia grumbled, crouching down to get a closer look at some broken branches—trying to figure out if it was caused by a little girl. "She was trying to prove a point even though the situation was under control. She's like a child."

Tony chuckled. "You're just angry cuz she shot your boyfriend."

"Fuck off, Tony." Olivia turned and punched Tony on the arm while he shook with laughter. "Now c'mon. There's the first house up there. Let's go."

Tony watched as Olivia stormed off to the farmhouse—chuckling to himself. It was so easy to rile her up. His laughter died as he really thought about her and Daryl—she was really starting to like the hunter. Tony did not like it.

Olivia stopped when she came up to the run down house. It must have been bright blue once, but now it was a dull grey—paint cracking all over it. It smelled musty even standing outside of it—Olivia figured it must have been abandoned even before the apocalypse hit.

Tony quickly joined her at the front door and they raised their bats. Olivia kicked at the door loudly a couple of times and waited for the familiar sound of groaning—but there was nothing. Tony made a gesture with his hand—indicating he would go in first but Olivia just stared at him, blank-faced.

"It means I'm going in first." Tony whispered, opening the door with a loud creak. He crept in and quickly scanned the small foyer for anything. It was destroyed—the rug had been upturned and it looked like someone had kicked a hole in the wall.

"Next time just say that then. I don't know what this means." Olivia said sarcastically—mimicking Tony's movements. She stepped into the house after him, the bat cradled on her shoulder. "What the fuck happened here?"

Tony shrugged, gesturing at her to shut up. He was trying to be cautious in case there were some Walkers in the house but Olivia seemed to be doing anything to spoil his attempts. "I don't know." He whispered. "Let's look around. Quietly."

Olivia rolled her eyes and stomped after him up the stairs—searching the house. Like the foyer, the rest of the house was absolutely destroyed—almost like it had been looted. But there was nothing to indicate a little girl had been there. When they got to the kitchen there was the all too familiar smell of rotting flesh. They both raised their weapons and shuffled into the kitchen. There were three bodies on the floor—two with bullets in temples and another's head bashed in. Nothing else seemed to be moving so the siblings lowered their weapons.

"Think the family who lived here did this?" Olivia asked crouching over one of the bodies. It looked fresh—for a Walker. Its skin was hanging off its bones, a sallow yellow, but it didn't look like it had been sitting there for very long. There weren't even flies buzzing around yet.

"I don't know. The house looks like it's been abandoned for a while." Tony murmured, looking at the other bodies. "Maybe some other survivors went through here?"

Olivia stopped when she reached the final body. It wasn't a Walker. It was the body of a person. His skin—while thick with dirt—wasn't the rotting grey off the Walkers. He looked completely fine—other than the bullet in back of his head. "Tony. This guy wasn't a Walker." She whispered, beginning to feel nauseous.

"What?" Tony jumped over the Walker he had been inspecting and crouched down beside Olivia. "Was he bit or something?"

They paused as they quickly searched the dead man for some kind of injury that would give justification for his death but found nothing. "H-h-he was murdered?" Olivia whispered, horrified.

"Yeah, I—uh, yeah?" Tony said, staring confusingly at the corpse. "I don't know how else to explain it."

"Suicide?" She asked, almost hopeful.

"Couldn't have." Tony shook his head—no longer feeling safe. He grabbed Olivia by the arm and jerked her to her feet, wanting to leave. "There's no burn mark around the wound and it's on the back of his head. Whoever did this was at least five feet away. Maybe from the door there…" He trailed off, feeling sick to his stomach. "Execution style."

"So, this guy must have bashed in this Geek here." Olivia gestured to the Walker closest to the dead man as she tried to figure out what happened. Desperately hoping it wasn't murder. "And someone else shot the other Rotter and… him."

"And then looted the place." Tony agreed grimly. "I think we should leave. Now."

Olivia hurriedly agreed and the two crept out of the house—throwing cautious looks around—looking for any evidence of other people. "Are we going back? What about Sophia."

Tony looked at her, conflicted. He didn't feel safe anymore. Whoever killed the man wasn't someone he wanted to meet. He had a feeling there were others whose motives weren't as pure as their own group. But he felt he owed it to Sophia to keep looking. He couldn't give up on her now. "We continue. Carefully. But you listen to everything I say."

Olivia nodded her head—she was frightened. And Tony had more experience with this kind of stuff than she did. "Alright. Fine. Let's go." She swallowed nervously and followed her brother—trying to pay extra attention to the land around her. She was looking for any signs that a group of living people went by.

They cautiously looked through the other houses and they were all the same—looted ruthlessly—they could see the signs more clearly now. Luckily there was no other bodies, though. Just destroyed houses. Olivia noticed they had left nothing behind. Anything that could have been remotely useful was gone, which unnerved Olivia. These people knew what they were doing.

About an hour later they came to the last house on the range road. The agreement was to go back after this—they didn't feel they should risk going further—especially because it would take a while to get back to the farm and they didn't want to risk travelling at night. Not with potential murderers out there—not to mention Walkers.

The house turned out to be exactly like the others—completely destroyed. When they reached the last room—Olivia stayed back to search through the cupboards—looking for supplies for Sophia or any supplies. Tony went out the back door to keep watch.

After a couple of minutes of fruitless searching Olivia sighed and went to follow her brother but stopped when she heard voices. Her blood ran cold in her veins as she crept over to the broken window—trying to hear what was going on.

"—So what are you doing this far in the woods, then? And you're alone?" A deep voice that Olivia didn't recognize was saying.

"It's just my sister and me." She heard Tony reply stiffly. "We're lookin' for a ol' farmhouse to hole up in. You know, make a home and all that. Maybe bake some cookies."

Olivia's heart dropped at his mention of cookies. Neither of them could bake to save their lives and would never be caught dead making cookies. The phrase was actually somewhat of a code word for them—usually meant for when Tony had a girl over and didn't want Olivia around. But Olivia knew what he meant now. Something was wrong and he wanted her to leave. Well, fuck that.

"Oh, a girl, eh? Joey and the boys back home will like that." Another male voice laughed. Olivia wanted to puke—murderers and rapists. "Dave, go check the house out for her."

Her pulse quickened. This was her chance. Olivia tightened the grip on her bat and crept down behind the door—praying she would be able to surprise the man.

She heard the heavy fall of boots on rotted wood and then the door was opening. He was a tall man—thick, greasy, brown hair and grimy clothes. He walked in casually—as if not expecting Olivia to be a threat but had his hand on his gun in case of any surprises.

He stopped in the doorway and sniffed loudly, gazing around at the kitchen and Olivia took her chance. She crept forward and swung her bat harshly at his head. He didn't even see it coming. The bat met his head with a sickening crack and he slumped forward—instantly unconscious. She dragged him into the panty—which wasn't an easy task, he was a big lug—and put a chair in front of it. She didn't want to risk him waking back up and coming after her.

Once that was done—Olivia caught her breath as she crept back to the window—deciding what to do. She felt disgusted with how easy it had been to deal with the man and how unbothered she was at the violence.

Olivia peered out the window and quickly caught sight of her brother. He was on his knees facing the house—his nose looked like it was bleeding. The other man Olivia had heard had his back to her—he was holding a gun to Tony's head. She had her glock, she could shoot the man from where she was but she didn't know if there were more of him.

Conflicted, she decided to take her chances on sneaking up on the man. She was willing to bet she was the faster draw—especially because she had the advantage of surprise.

Olivia took a deep breath and pulled out her glock, gripping it in one hand while she held the bat in the other. It wasn't as stable as she would have liked but she would rather use her bat than her gun.

Olivia silently slipped through the door—trying to get out of it before it creaked. She took in slow, even breaths, trying to calm the panic she felt rising in her chest. Despite the Walkers—she had never been this scared in her life. If she messed up—her and (more importantly) Tony would be dead. She couldn't fail.

Tony had seen her creeping up—she knew it—but he didn't even glance in her direction. She knew he was probably terrified but he was always better at keeping a cool head than she was. He knew better than to give her away.

Olivia tiptoed up behind the man—who was just as filthy and burly as the other man but was fat. He wasn't starving despite the hard times. She had reached him and was just about to swing when a twig cracked under her weight shift and the man spun around. He let out a surprised yelp and Olivia brought bat down hard into his skull. He crumpled just as easily as the other man.

Tony leapt to his feet and quickly grabbed the guns away from the man—just in case he woke up soon. The two men had surprised Tony—hitting him in the face and forcing him to his knees. He had no doubt in his mind that they had been going to kill him. His only hope was that Olivia would have taken his hint and got out of there. He should have known she was too stubborn to run.

"Olivia, what the hell. I told you to get the fuck out of here!" Tony raged.

Olivia fell back on her butt—shaking. She finally allowed herself to be scared and was beginning to hyperventilate. That had been too close. "I-if I did, you'd be dead."

"Son of a bitch!" Tony yelled again. He wiped the blood that was leaking out of his nose and onto his lip. He was pretty sure his nose was broken but he didn't care at the moment. "That was too risky, Olivia. What if he had turned around just a bit sooner?"

"Well, let's be glad he didn't!" Olivia snapped, standing up again on shaking legs. "Let's just get out of her okay? Before more of 'em come."

"There were only the two." Tony told her grabbing her arm and dragging her into the woods opposite from the direction they had come from. "Bad guys always reveal their plans."

Olivia let herself be dragged—she knew Tony was freaking out and she didn't want to do anything to make him angrier. "Where are you goin'? We came from that way…"

"I don't want to risk 'em waking up and following us back to the farm. We'll head back to the interstate and go back to camp from there."

Olivia nodded. "Okay. But we won't get back—"

"Until tomorrow, yes." Tony interrupted gruffly, picking up his pace. He wanted to be as far away from the two men before they woke up. "We'll hole up in a car somewhere. It's for the best."

Olivia swallowed the lump that was forming in her throat. She wasn't too thrilled about spending a night away from their group—especially in a car. It felt it was too open, too exposed. But she would rather that than risk the safety of the group.

The two siblings hurried along. It was nearly an hour before they reached the highway and the sun was beginning to set. They darted a good ways up the highway—towards the Greene farm. They knew it was harder to track them on concrete—and even harder between abandoned cars. When it began to get dark they picked a sturdy looking car tand jammed themselves into the trunk and closed it above them—leaving a crack open. They agreed to take turns keeping watch but Olivia could feel that it was going to be a long, sleepless night.

"Were those the men who killed the guy in that first house?" Olivia finally asked after hours of silence.

"I think so." Tony said sourly. Olivia had just reset his nose and he wasn't feeling to peppy at the moment. "Didn't exactly have time to ask. They said they had a group."

"Yeah. Hopefully they won't come lookin' for us."

"Hopefully." He grumbled. "But they'll probably try. They were cocky sons of bitches. They'll be pissed."

"Fuck." Olivia swore as she closed her eyes and leaned back in the trunk—trying to get comfortable. She felt disgusted and scared. Those men had murdered another living person. And for what? Supplies? Weapons? It all seemed so ruthless and pointless to Olivia. There were Walkers to worry about, they shouldn't have to worry about other living people, too. And what were the others going to think when they didn't return?