"I spy with my little eye something green," Finnegan said, tapping his tiny fingers on the window of the back seat of the car. "Oh, and a little brown."

From behind the wheel, Daryl strummed his fingers on his left hand on the wheel while the fingers on his right gently grazed my knuckles. Every time he touched my skin, even just the slightest, it felt as if a rush of electricity surged through my body. This was so new; having someone who reached out and grabbed my hand without me asking or just feeling an overwhelming sense of happiness whenever they were around. If you were to ask me two days ago if Daryl was the kind of person who liked the playful nudges when others were around, I would've laughed in your face. But now, I felt as if he was an entirely different, more affectionate person.

"Trees," Daryl guessed, his eyes darting from the road, to the foliage around us, then back to the road. "Or dirt, I guess. Or dead grass."

"You only get one try!" Finnegan shouted. "And you missed on the first one! Harper, you try!"

I dragged my gaze around at the outside of the car as we whizzed past wandering walkers. "That broken car we just passed?" I said, lifting my thumb over my shoulder.

"Nope! You're both wrong! I spy zombies!"

Finnegan's response to the walkers baffled both Daryl and I. We both expected him to be terrified of them, but it was actually quite the opposite – he was fascinated and curious. Just before we left the farm, he'd asked my aunt and uncle to call him if they ever needed to fight off the "ugly dead people." Then, he'd waved a stick around in the air threateningly and crawled into the back of the car, singing a song he had made up on his own about stabbing walkers through the head until they're all dead, dead, dead.

"Okay, your turn," Finnegan announced, leaning forward to pat Daryl on the shoulder.

"I spy with my little eye," the archer drawled on, obviously tired of this game we'd been playing since we left, "something yellow."

While they fell into the game, my mind drifted back ten miles and lingered with my aunt and uncle. Even though I knew there was no changing their minds, part of me wanted to turn around so I could beg them to come with. My chest ached at the thought that I'd left them behind, but the both of them just seemed happy to have Finnegan heading to somewhere safe. Just before we drove down the dirt road from the farm, Uncle Robert had led Daryl and I into his basement, revealing what he scolded Adeline and I over when we'd gotten too close to the wooden door when we were younger: shelves and bags and crates of nonperishable food, blankets, and enough dry matches to last us months. Without hesitation, he ordered us to grab as much as we could carry and pile it into the back of the car until we could barely close the door.

"Aw, c'mon! Just tell me!"

"No way! You have to guess like I did!"

Uncle Robert and Aunt Michelle's smiling faces as they waved us goodbye somewhat haunted me. I didn't give it a second thought then, but now I was beginning to realize that I may never see them again. I nibbled on my bottom lip, trying to resist the urge to ask Daryl to turn around. I had to try to convince them again.

Finnegan let out a groan of distress and annoyance, obviously not guessing right whatever yellow thing Daryl was seeing. "Is it, um," the boy mumbled, then leaned forward to lace his tiny fingers through my hair, "Harper's hair?"

Daryl, who propped his elbow just below the window to cover his small smirk with his hand, glanced back in the rear view mirror the second I whipped my head to the side to look at him. "Mmhm," he murmured through his fingers. Finnegan erupted into a fit of cheering while I folded my hands in my lap, trying to hide the heavy blush creeping onto my face.

After half an hour of driving, Finnegan eventually found a comfortable position to sleep in. Soft snores sounded from the backseat while Daryl and I sat in silence. Then, barely keeping an eye on the road, Daryl reached behind his seat toward the floor, pulling out another CD that I'd never seen before. "Your uncle gave it to me," he explained when he saw the confused look I gave him. "Said I look like the kind of guy who likes it." He didn't give me a chance to inspect the case before popping it into the player, making sure the volume was low enough to not wake the child in the back.

"Hello, I've waited here for you, everlong."

I shook my head and rolled my eyes. "Uncle Robert was obsessed with this band for three solid years. I've heard this song at least a million times," I complained. Before I knew it though, my lips were following along with the song.

"Its okay," Daryl admitted halfheartedly.

"And I wonder, when I sing along with you, if everything could ever be this real forever. If anything could ever be this good again."

"Hey, Daryl?"

"Hm?"

"What was the agreement that you had with Griffin?"

Daryl sighed and licked his bottom lip before even thinking about answering me. "He came up to me an hour 'fore we left and said he wanted to go with you," he told me. "Said he could protect you better than I could. I said okay, but changed my mind at the last minute."

"Why did you change your mind?"

He shrugged. "The kid pisses me off , 'specially when he's 'round you. Somethin' 'bout 'im just irks me."

I wished I knew what to say, but I was only aware of this rivalry between the two to a certain point. Until now, I just thought it was some kind of male dominance thing. I didn't realize that I was the cause of it all. "Oh," I mumbled, trying my hardest to sound guilty. I knew I should have, but I didn't feel that way at all. In fact, it was a little flattering. "Well, Daryl, for what it is, you really have no competition against him."

Daryl didn't say anything else. I just figured he was too focused on trying to avoid hitting walkers and remembering how to get back to the prison before nightfall. As I glanced back at Finnegan curled up against the door behind Daryl, I tried to imagine that the world was normal again. Maybe this could have been us, driving to the coast so Finnegan could drip his feet in ocean water for the first time, and Daryl and I hand-in-hand the entire way. It was a calming thought, but I didn't allow myself to fall into it too deeply. Without realizing it, I'd let out a heavy sigh as I reminded myself that the world will probably never be like that again. Daryl's hand gently squeezed mine.

o-o-o

"Whoa, it's like a castle!" Finnegan exclaimed as we pulled toward the gates of the prison. Maggie, Glenn, Tyreese, and Sasha hurried to yank them open for us. "Does this mean that you're a queen, Harper? An-And are you a king, Daryl?! Can I be a prince?!"

The small body behind us flung himself from side of the car to the other, pressing his nose against the window and creating clouds of condensation with his staccato breathing. Daryl turned his head, trying his hardest to hide the smirk of amusement. "Calm down, buddy," he told him. "We ain't even pulled in all the way." Finnegan plopped himself against the seat in a pout, crossing his arms over his chest and tucking his chin in. Then, Daryl added, "The inside is bigger." This sent the child into another frenzy of excited spasms.

Rick met us near the courtyard when Daryl turned the car off. He wrapped his arms around me in a tight embrace the second I stepped out and said, "Glad you two made it back safe. Did you find what you were looking for?"

"Yes and no," I replied, watching as the two men wrapped their hands around each other and patted each other's backs. "My aunt and uncle refused to leave, but they sent my second cousin with us." Rick gave me a warning stare, as if telling me that I should know better than to bring in people without asking the others first. "He's five," I added quickly. He nodded in understanding, as I knew he would. After all, he was a father.

Knowing that I was talking about him, Finnegan nearly kicked the door open and launched himself from the car. "Hi!" he shouted, standing straight and holding his hand out to Rick. Daryl and I stood by idly, watching the two interact. "My name is Finnegan Arden MacManus, but you can just call me Finn because all my friends say my full name is too hard."

A warm smile spread across Rick's face as wrapped his giant hand around Finnegan's. "Its very nice to meet you, Finn. My name is Rick Grimes."

o-o-o

When Daryl, Rick, and I brought in the supplies that were given to us, our four chefs, Carol, Hershel, and Sasha nearly broke out into tears. With random fits of laughter here and there, they stuffed food into the shelves, distributed the blankets to everyone in the prison, and stored away the matches in a place where they would stay dry and accessible to anyone who needed them.

"The next time you see your family," Hershel said after a tight hug, "tell them we said thank you from the bottom of our hearts."

I smiled because that was the only thing I could do. Hershel knew it just as well as I did that there was a one in a billion chance of me ever seeing my family again. I couldn't make that drive often and if they continued to survive, there was no way that would leave that farm for even a minute to come to the prison. Still, it was kind of him to try to keep my spirits high.

Finnegan instantly fit in with the other kids his age. Mika in particular took a liking to him, although she was too shy to actually say anything to him. As he chatted with the other kids in the library, I leaned against the door frame and watched. He was more than friendly with all of them as he introduced himself the same way he did to Rick.

"Seems like he's pretty popular," a voice commented from behind me. My body jolted in surprise and whipped around to face Griffin. From the deadpan expression on his face, I couldn't tell what kind of mood he was in. "It was nice of you to come say hi when you got back." His voice dripped with bitter sarcasm. Obviously, he wasn't happy.

"Sorry," I replied halfheartedly. "I was busy just trying to get Finn settled in and putting everything away."

Griffin avoided my gaze as he shrugged. "He looks like he's doing fine on his own," he spat.

Something about the way he stood gave away that he was legitimately angry with me: he crossed his arms over his chest in a barrier-like way, his eyes narrowed into a glare, and his tight jaw was more than apparent. "You're actually pissed off at me," I pointed out, speaking low enough that the children behind me couldn't hear.

"Wow, you are a smart one, aren't you?" he hissed. "Tell me, which college did you go to? Harvard? Yale?"

My mouth dropped open at his words. This wasn't like Griffin. He was never so hostile toward me. "What's your problem, Griff?" I demanded to know. "Just because I didn't say hi to you the second I got back? That's a little immature, don't you think?"

Griffin rolled his eyes and chuckled sardonically. "I'm immature? Okay, Harper, if that's how you feel. But you know what's a little fucked up? You leading me on the entire time you've been involved with Daryl."

In all honestly, I wasn't even sure how to properly respond to that. So instead of forming actual words, I just stared at him, my mouth open, until a tiny squeak escaped from my throat. "Leading you on?" I repeated in disbelief. "I didn't even know you had a thing for me until Daryl told me yesterday!"

From the corner of my eye, I saw Carl glance over at us, his interest in our conversation growing. I grabbed Griffin's arm and dragged him into the hallway, fighting against his struggles the entire way. "Oh, really? I didn't make it obvious enough?" he asked in a mocking tone.

Arguing with Griffin was absolutely exhausting, I soon found out. "No, Griff," I said, pinching the bridge of my nose. "You didn't."

Griffin opened his mouth to retaliate, but another voice from behind him cut him off. "The hell's goin' on here?" Daryl demanded to know as he approached us, holding his crossbow over his back with his pointer and middle finger. His eyes met Griffin's in a glower, then softened when they moved toward my figure.

"It doesn't concern you," Griffin barked. "Piss off."

"Stop it, Griff," I ordered harshly, but he didn't hear me.

Daryl moved toward the younger man slowly, like a tiger getting ready to attack its prey. "The fuck did you just say to me?" he growled, staring down into Griffin's persistent emerald eyes. I buried my face into my hands, groaning quietly.

"Piss off," Griffin repeated slowly. His eyes met mine for a moment before he turned and stomped down the hallway. "Both of you."

o-o-o

As everyone gathered in the common area to eat, I watched as Finnegan made his rounds to the adults. I couldn't help but smile to myself when I realized that everyone was enjoying having him around. He was always full of energy and only stopped moving when he was eating or sleeping. Beth, Maggie, and Carol giggled as he made faces at them or told them about the fact that he always got into trouble at his old school because he couldn't stop playing tricks on people. Mika continued to shy away from him whenever he bounced too close to her. Daryl seemed to be his main point of interest, though, because he constantly asked me to scoot over so he could sit next to the archer.

"Could you teach me to shoot your bow tomorrow?" Finnegan questioned him with a mouthful of rice.

"Finn, swallow your food before talking," I scolded, smoothing out a cluster of his hair that stuck out obnoxiously.

While Daryl made up some excuse to only teach Finnegan when he was older, I peeked sideways at Griffin, who sat against the wall in my usual spot. He didn't have a plate in his hands; instead he sat with his arms crossed over his chest. His eyes were locked on Daryl's figure, but broke away when Reanna approached him. She sat next to him and they fell into their own whispered conversation. Every so often, they would look at us. I came to the conclusion that she must've been the reason why Griffin knew about what Daryl and I had.

Everyone dispersed after an hour or so. I stayed behind to help Carol, Beth, and a few of the others clean up. Finnegan ran up to my cell, kicked off his shoes, and fell asleep on my bed within minutes. Griffin and Reanna escaped to who knows where together, but I didn't ask any questions. If they were an item, it would take the stress off me.

Daryl re-entered the common area at some point during the time that I was cleaning the dishes. Only when I felt his chest against my back did I realize that everyone else had left to their cells. "Forget 'im," he breathed in my ear, causing a shiver throughout my body. "He's just a dumb kid."

I put the plate into the makeshift sink and turned to face him. "I'm not mad anymore," I told him, snaking my arms around his neck. "I think he's already moved onto Reanna anyway."

"Good," Daryl mumbled against my lips as I pressed into him. "I don't share."

o-o-o

"What do you mean half the supplies are gone?!" Glenn bellowed as he practically ran into the common area. The sun had barely popped up and most of the prison was already in a frenzy.

"They just are!" Beth replied, frantically searching for the blankets.

I stood in the middle of it all, trying to process what was going on. In the time that it took for everyone to sleep, most of the food and blankets had been stolen. Yet, everyone was present and nobody heard a peep all night. So how? How could so many things go missing?

"The fuck kind of joke is this?!" Daryl shouted, pacing around the room. His attention immediately went to Griffin as he walked down the tiny flight of stairs, yawning loudly. "Was it you, you asshole?!" Daryl growled, wrapping his fingers around Griffin's collar.

"Get the hell off me, man!" Griffin yelled, pushing Daryl from him. "I don't even know what the fuck's going on! I've been on patrol all night!"

I leaned against the wall, trying my best to stay calm. Yes, this was bad. Yes, this was not as bad as it could have been. Yes, I didn't even know where to start with fixing it. Nobody knew where the supplies were. There were no clues. Everyone seemed to have been playing dumb.

"There must be a hole in the fence or something," I suggested. "An outsider must've gotten in."

Griffin shook his head. "No way. I would have noticed."

His words only started more arguing between him and Daryl, who seemed thoroughly convinced that Griffin was the one who stole the supplies. It didn't make sense, though. Even if he did do it, where would he take them? Rick and Michonne were currently inspecting everyone's cells, so he couldn't hide them there. Maggie and Carol were searching the outside of the building, so any possible stashing spots were out of the question.

"We're sending out a party," Glenn announced, waiting for the room to fall silent before continuing. "We need to search the forest. If we don't find anything here at the prison, then it has to be out there. Any volunteers?"

My hand flew high into the air. I watched around the room as Daryl, Griffin, and Reanna did the same. I grimaced in annoyance. Griffin only volunteered because I was going, and Reanna did because Daryl was going. Knowing this was going to be an absolute shit show, I grabbed for my weapon, pulled my hair into a ponytail, and followed the three out into the surrounding forest, more then determined to find our supplies.