It was Mule's fancy chopstick dart thing that made him think back to that white farmhouse they searched for supplies. The surrounding grounds all looked like any other – maintained fields, well-tended buildings, and pastures just waiting for a herd of livestock to fill them.

Inside the house was a far different story. Colors were whites and grays mostly. Save for the buckets of blood that covered almost every inch of the front hall and staircase.

Initially, the house appeared empty.

And was eerily silent.

Even now that silence caused his ass to itch. Shit always hit the fan when things got that quiet. He learned that before things went all to hell. This particular day just reminded him 'bout how much shit stunk. Daryl tried to resist the pull of this dream but found himself walking towards that door, the tall, white door that opened to that bloody front entrance. Something brushed by him and he turned, barely stopping himself from lashing out with his crossbow.

Mule sent him an easygoing smile as she slowly made her way inside. That dark, springy hair of hers framed her face like a dark halo, and them damn eyes he hadn't been able to forget were that sharp, intense shade of green. A beam of light broke through the clouds covering the sky, making her skin seem to glow golden.

Her boots made not a sound as she picked her way through the gore and grim to the large entryway on her right. He walked in behind her, swinging his eyes left and right, crossbow at the ready. Always at the ready. Never could tell when a geek would turn up.

Mule froze suddenly, stifling a gasp that caused the balls of anxiety in his belly to quadruple in size. A quick glance revealed the cause of her agitation was a still twitching body hanging from the ceiling fan in what had once been some sorta fancy ass family room. A crossbow bolt to the head ended the man's suffering.

"Thank you," she murmured in that low, husky voice of hers. "Know I should…"

"S'aight." He moved towards her, setting a hand on her lower back and gently nudging her towards a set of doors to her left. "C'mon, let's keep looking."

"All right."

He perfectly remembered what happened next. The quiet of the living room gave way to a carefully laid trap. The clock out in the front hall started chiming the second she slid the door open to the kitchen. Running had been their only option. However, they only got as far as a small horse barn when their luck ran out.

…

Outside Atlanta

Day 59 (Morning)

"This was not how I expected to spend my last day on Earth."

The breathy words caught him off guard. Last day on Earth? What the hell? Daryl shot a look at her from the corner of his eye. That staggering face, bathed in sweat and dirt and gore told him nothing. Not that it was all that unusual with Mule.

The damn woman could be harder to get information out of than the goddamn government. Breakin' into Fort Knox is easier than gettin' information outta her. He tilted his head and looked more closely at her face. Steely determination firmed her jaw and a fierce resolve deepened the green of her eyes.

Again, nothing all that unusual.

He had never seen the woman as anything but coolly composed. If not for the rare moments where she completely lost her temper with Merle, he'd have thought her to have ice in her veins.

As it was, he knew what the fire simmering just below that glacier surface felt like. Every time she skimmed those quick, clever little fingers of hers along his arm or the back of his hand, she left behind a stream of fire.

Even now his skin sizzled from its close contact with hers. His thoughts turned, as they often did, to what it would feel like to touch her. The few times where he had given in were bare tips of his fingers skimming the back of her arm. Even that had been enough to set off aches that scared the shit oughta him.

"Really thought this was gonna be an easy run," she said, breaking into his thoughts. "Figured we would raid the farmhouse for some of the things you said we'd need for the road and get back to Merle and the kids before dark. Sounded simple enough; easy enough. Really should have known things weren't going to go our way..."

"What the hell you goin' on about now?"

"This," she replied, indicating the small horse barn with a jerk of her head. "Didn't expect that a group of undead would force us to take shelter in a place like this." She blew a long, curling strand of hair out of her face. "We're pretty well boned here, Tarzan."

"Ain't the first time we been up shits creek."

He didn't add how it wasn't gonna be the last time, either. The way he saw it, they didn't need to go tempting fate any more than it already been tempted.

"I know it's not the first time we have been up shits creek. Hell, I have been in worse spots than this thanks to the Joker and Scarecrow. It's just I-" Whatever else she was gonna say was lost as the collective weight of the gathering outside pushing against the door caused it to open a fraction of an inch. "Shit!" Mule grunted as her boots slid in the straw and sawdust coating the floor. "Not sure I am gonna be able to keep this door closed for much longer!"

"Just hold it steady, girl..."

Mule stifled another curse - one of his more often used ones, he noticed with a small bit of amusement.

"Goddamn it," she huffed as a set of blackened fingers managed to work their way through a small opening between the doors. They stretched towards her face, nails like talons that would rip apart her creamy flesh if they managed to make contact.

Daryl stopped them by yanking out the hunting knife strapped to his hip and severing those claws of death from the hand still outside in one swift downward motion.

"Fuck off," he growled at the buzzing horde. "Grabby sumbitches."

"Thank you," she managed after she pushed her door closed. "Thought I was about to have a new scar added to my already lengthy collection."

"C'mon," he told her as the doors creaked open another few inches. "We gotta get these doors closed and lock 'em."

"A'ight."

Together, they finally managed to shove the doors shut and keep them closed by puttin' every ounce of strength they possessed between them into making them remain so. Daryl quickly twisted the lock and heaved a sigh of relief when he heard it click. It wasn't the greatest of protection against the ravenous horde, but it was a helluva lot better than nothin'.

He turned then to the woman beside him, ready to set her straight about a few things before gettin' down to the business of figuring out how'n hell they were gonna get themselves out of the shit hole they were swimming in.

"What the hell you mean about this being your last day on Earth?" He demanded. "Huh?"

"I didn't say it was my last day on Earth," she corrected as she scooped hair out of her face. "I said this was not how I expected to spend my last day on Earth."

Her and her damn semantics, he thought as his blood started to churn. Still sayin' she doesn't expect to get outta this shit with her skin intact. Well, he'd absolve her of that notion right quick.

"Ain't gonna be your last day on Earth."

Mule predictably rolled her eyes and issued that little harrumph of hers.

"Case you ain't noticed, Tarzan, the shit has gotten pretty thick in here." She wiped her forehead on her arm before adding, "And we ain't exactly got anything to shovel it out with."

Wasn't like her observation was wrong, he realized. They were in the shitter up to their eyeballs and didn't exactly have a way to go 'bout diggin' their asses out. Not yet, he thought as inarticulate groaning came from the other side of the door they were leaning against.

"Gotta find somethin' to barricade this door with," he told her a second before the sound of splintering wood drowned out the incessant buzzing of the mob. "You look for somethin' while I do what I can to keep the sumbitches out."

"Okay."

That she didn't give him any lip told him she was up to something. If he was a gamblin' man, he'd bet she was plottin' some sorta reckless ass move to try to get them outta this situation. The woman didn't cotton to the notion of standin' down and lettin' his ass handle shit.

Nope, not Mule.

She'd wade her ass out into the middle of the horde if he didn't keep a firm hand on her. Not that he was gonna let her do somethin' so stupid as meet the horde on her own. Nope, she could just forget that idea right quick.

Daryl gritted his teeth and shoved the doors with all the muscle he could muster. The thin planks of plywood were all that was keepin' the sumbitches from turnin' them into Geek Delight. Any second and the doors could give. Then they would be even farther up shits creek than they already were. Not that it mattered. He would keep out the biters tryin' to get inside even if it took every ounce of his remainin' strength.

Or his worthless life.

Merle would bust his balls over that if he was there and knew what direction his thoughts had taken, but it wasn't like he could stop him. If it was a choice of him or Mule, he knew what would get his vote. No matter what her ass gotta say 'bout it. Daryl didn't believe that his brother would let Mule sacrifice herself for him, neither.

As much of an asshole as his brother could be, there were just some things that even Merle wouldn't allow. His own pride, as well as the few values instilled in him by their Ma, wouldn't let him stand back and allow Mule to give up her life for him. Least of all since she got two kids who need her.

The noisy bastards continued to moan their collective frustration and confusion, pleading for relief from the insatiable hunger driving them. They slapped at the doors with hands that couldn't feel the roughness of the wood against their palms. Mangled fingers split down to whatever remained of sinew and bone.

As one terrifying unit, they worked to tear the doors apart to reach the sustenance they instinctively knew was on the other side. Daryl felt the wood start to give and hissed out a few choice phrases.

Not like he or the mule-headed woman diggin' around in search of somethin' to use on the doors were gonna willingly gonna let themselves get turned into Roamer Helper. Nah uh, no way. Wasn't gonna happen. Especially not her ass, he thought as he felt the doors beginning to give way. She can just forget about tryin' any of that shit. If she even dared make some sorta reckless move, she'd be met with one helluva fight.

Promised her boy I'd keep his mom safe. And come hell or high water, that's what he was gonna do. And if it took him tossin' himself into the horde to do it, well, so be it. It was as good a night as any to die. And she was worth him making that sacrifice for. He nodded his head at some leather straps hangin' from a peg above her head.

"Grab those straps," he grunted. "We can use 'em to tie the door handles together. Will slow the sumbitches down long enough for us to shove that big ass storage cabinet in front of 'em."

Again, Mule did exactly as he told her ass to do. Part of him wondered if she was obeying because she saw the shit hitting the fan and knew they needed to get behind it before they got completely covered in the gunk. Another part, one that was talking a whole lotta shit lately, had a sneaky suspicion she was saving up all her sass to use on him when they were alone.

Woman ain't happy unless she chirpin' at me. Not that he necessarily minded her squawking. Well, he amended as he took one of the thick straps and wrapped it in a loop around the handles. Not that he minded it much.

There were times he wished she'd button her pie-hole. Like whenever Merle was talkin' his usual shit about women knowin' their places. Or when he was tellin' her to get her ass inside because Merle was spoilin' for a fight.

Or... well, anytime Merle was around, he realized as he finished tying the straps. Mule and Merle were what happened when a tornado met a volcano. And he was getting plumb sick and tired of always being the one caught in the middle and havin' to make peace between the two of 'em.

A loud cracking tore him from his pensive thoughts. A glance at the doors revealed a pen-sized fracture dead in the middle of the door Mule tossed herself against. It wasn't a large enough opening for the horde to slip their fingers through, but he knew that it could quickly become one with their continued bangin' and tearin' at the weakened wood.

"Let's get that," he nodded towards the white cabinet sitting along the back wall, "in front of these doors before them sumbitches make that crack any bigger."

She nodded and pushed away from the door with a sigh that hinted at the exhaustion they both were feeling. They bore down, bucked up, and working together, managed to get the heavy cabinet in front of the doors a second before another fissure opened. Mule breathed out another sigh before slowly sliding down to sit in front of the cabinet.

"Got this damn thing in front of the doors just in the nick of time." A faint smile tugged at her lips. "Hate to think about what would have happened if we hadn't."

Daryl was already thinking about what would have happened had they not gotten that cabinet in front of the doors when they did. They would have been able to have held out for a few minutes, at the most. The number of infected outside the small enclosure was simply too much for them to handle.

He only had a handful of crossbow bolts, his hunting knife and the revolver she gave him that morning. A glance at her quiver told him she had an equal number of arrows, a couple of them fancy chopsticks she liked throwin' and a Glock 22 with all of ten bullets.

It was nowhere near enough to stop the three dozen or so geeks gathered outside and just waitin' for the doors to the buffet to open. What they needed was some sorta equalizer. They needed some sort of weapon that would cut the horde's number down to a more manageable size.

No, he thought as he scanned the contents of the barn for anythin' that would serve his purpose. Aside from a couple of shovels and rakes, there was nothing that would help reduce the walker population knocking on their door. What we really need is a car that will get us the hell outta here as fast as the petal can hit the damn metal.

"So, what now?" Mule asked him as the bangin' got louder. "This cabinet is strong enough to keep the undead from coming in through the front. But there's still other places they could get through if they manage to find them."

He shoulda known the woman would vocalize the shit runnin' through his head. Her uncanny ability to know what he was thinkin' or feelin' had unnerved him initially. It pissed him off more than a few times at her. Not she minded when he tore into her. Shit, she just yells right back at me, he thought as he ran his forehead across his arm.

He made it clear he didn't like her profilin' him. It left him feeling raw, exposed, vulnerable. And yet there was a part of him, one doing a whole lotta talkin' as of late that found some comfort and relief in her ability to figure out what he was thinkin', feelin' or plannin'. It made those times when they were in the shit up to their eyeballs go a lot more smoothly.

Makes us a helluva team, he realized as he stared out the window to where a combine harvester sat in a partially harvested field of wheat. He could always count on Mule backing his play or anticipatin' what his next move might be. He never had to doubt she would be on his side.

Hadn't she jumped into the middle of that fracas between him and Merle without a care in the world for what repercussions it could cause? And why had she done it? Because loyalty was like a religion to her. Once you earned Mule's trust and respect, once you gained her friendship, you had it for life. Do one thing to break it, however...

"There's a combine harvester in the field just on the other side of that barn." He watched her brow furrow as he handed her his crossbow and knew she was gonna set up a howl about what he was gonna say next. Not that it mattered. They needed to cut the numbers of infected down and that combine was the way to do it. "I'm gonna make for it. You keep them sumbitches busy."

Her answer was not the long, drawn-out one he anticipated.

"No."

Short and to the point. Meant she already had seen that combine and was workin' out a way to get to it herself. Ain't happenin'. He cut her a look from the corner of his eye.

"Ain't up for debate."

"You're right that it's not up for debate," she agreed as she climbed to her feet. "I'll go for the combi-"

"Like hell you goin' for that combine," he growled. "You gonna keep your ass inside this here horse barn is what you gonna do."

"I'm the faster runner," she patiently explained. "And you the better shooter. It makes more sense if-"

"You ain't goin' out there and that's final."

Mule responded by mutterin' somethin' beneath her breath that Daryl was pretty certain wasn't gonna be flatterin'. He wasn't budging, though. Not 'bout this. Her ass was gonna stay inside the small barn until he could clear a safe escape route and that was all there was to it.

"Tar-"

"No."

Her eyes glittered with her frustration and annoyance.

"This is-"

"Not happenin'," he concluded with a nod. "You're right."

She scowled, an expression that on her amounted to little more than a pained grimace.

"Why are you insisting on my staying here when you know full well I am right?"

"Just 'cause you got a point don't make you right."

"Ah." Her eyes shined with triumph. "But you do admit that I have a point."

"Hell, yeah, I admit you got a point." He shifted, simultaneously intimidatin' and protective. "Still don't mean you goin' out there."

She harrumphed and folded her arms over her chest. It was her way of tryin' to look commandin'. Considering how the woman barely inched up to five-foot-four out of her fancy armor and boots and weighed about as much as a six-point buck, it took some work for her to reach somethin' resemblin' intimidatin'.

"Why can't you be reasonable about this?"

"I am bein' reasonable."

"No." She shook her head. "Reasonable would be to let me do what I know how to do. I have fought a monster who likes to send playing cards with his image on them to his victims beforehand." She studied his face, his eyes, openly gauging how serious he was about her stayin' in the barn.

He narrowed his eyes, lettin' her known he was dead set on her ass stayin' right where it was. She grimaced, looked away. "Reasonable would be acknowledging that if I can handle a man as dangerous as the Joker that this is child's play. Reasonable would be agreeing that our chances of getting out of this mess we're in are better if we do what we are both best at doing. That's reasonable, Daryl."

Just because she had made some valid points didn't mean he was gonna agree or give in. He promised her boy, Kai that he'd keep his mom safe and that was what he was gonna do. Whether she liked it or not.

"Yeah, well, you ain't going out there," he informed her curtly. "So, quit chirpin' at me 'bout it."

She turned her head, looked him in the eye.

"I haven't changed my mind, Daryl. It's me who should go and get that combine. You know it. I know it. You're just being stubborn about it."

"Yeah?" He shifted closer, towerin' over her by only 'bout five or six inches, but figurin' it was enough. "You still ain't goin' out there and that's final."

She considered him for a moment. He didn't once look away, knew that if he did that he would lose what ground he held with her. Finally, she drew in an unsteady breath, straightened and nodded.

"Fine," she groused as she reached for one of them chopstick things. "We'll do things your way."

"Yup," was all he said.

A/N: Hello, all! Hope life has been good to you!

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