Notes: Okay so I forgot entirely that I still had to write the part with Randall on the farm. So, we might actually hit 40 chapters on this one. Seeing as I know where I will be ending it I have the first chapter of the sequel half written. I will post the last chapter for this story and the first for the sequel at the same time. I haven't decided on a name for it yet, but I'll let you know when I do.

LivnJgrl123: Thanks. I know, right? I am trying to get this done so I don't fall too behind with season three.

Leyshla Gisel: I know. I felt that way too. I just wasn't inspired to write that part I guess. Hope I've gotten back on track.

Tara2217: Thanks :)

Tomhiddlest0ner: I'm glad you're enjoying it. I try and update as often as I can.

Emberka-2012: Thank you for your continued support.

Alexandria104: Little things can mean so much.

Piratejessieswaby: That's for sure. He definitely doesn't take it too well.

Chapter 37: Aftermath

The barn had become the site of a massacre to the Greenes. They had stood helplessly and watched as their friends, family and neighbors were gunned down in front of them. Any hope they had had of salvation had ended that day as they had watched Shane pump bullet after bullet into one of their neighbors to no effect. Though still, watching their loved ones fall had been too much for some. Hershel had disappeared. He'd taken off on a bender to some abandoned bar. Meanwhile Beth had fallen into a state of shock and become practically comatose.

They had to find Hershel. There was no other way. The man was the closest thing they had to a doctor and Beth was his daughter. If anyone could help her it was him. Rick and Glenn were going to find him. For Dane it was an opportunity to lend a hand and he quickly volunteered to join them in the search.

Not everyone was happy with the arrangement. "Could use you here at the farm," Shane protested. It seemed every time some idiot needed rescuing the people most capable of protecting camp took off on some foolish rescue mission. Had they so quickly forgotten what happened when they went to save Merle Dixon? These sorts of scenarios didn't end well.

"Hershel's been good letting us stay here. I owe him this. We all do. He could be in trouble."

"What's the use?" Shane asked, his head shaking with disapproval. "That old fool wants to run off putting himself in danger, that don't mean the rest of us need to risk our necks looking for him."

"Sometimes," Dane explained calmly, "you don't do something because you need to, but because it's the right thing to do."

Shane scoffed. It was bad enough listening to the lectures on morals from Dale all the time. Now he had this little shit going on about right and wrong too. Too bad they weren't as concerned about keeping everyone safe and surviving. It was like they didn't realize the world had changed.

"Besides, you have Andrea now," Dane said, casting a smile in the woman's direction. Her mishap shooting Daryl aside, she had become quite proficient with a gun. There was no doubt in his mind that she was capable of helping to defend the farm if Walkers were to attack.

Since the incident at the barn Dane had been in the middle of everything, trying to help out, trying to right the wrong that they had committed against Hershel and his family. River on the other hand was spending as much time as possible away from the farm. There was too much loss and pain in the world. Too much insanity. She needed to be somewhere where things were simple, where they made sense. In the woods there was only hunter and hunted. There was no drama and betrayal.

There was simplicity and familiarity in wandering through the trees and the hilltops. River passed the hours blazing trails and setting up a makeshift trapline with the nine remaining traps and a handful of snares she'd fashioned. Once she was done she planned to sit on top of a ridge and watch the valley below for game before returning for the night. It was comforting to be doing something normal, to return to the life she was used to. Out there it was just her and Liam. Everything else could be forgotten for a little while.

With Liam on guard duty River was able to relax. The Chessie was alert and ready to warn his master if anything approached. There was a decent sized squirrel midden that River had spotted and she intended to set up a snare pole. A lot of trappers didn't bother with squirrel because they sold so poorly, but River had always been happy to take the little critters. A dollar was a dollar and a meal was a meal.

After tying one end of her pole to the first tree River reached into her pocket for more twine only to find it empty. "Bastard," River cursed under her breath.

Liam turned towards the sound of her voice and cocked his head attentively to the side.

River chuckled at the sight of her dog. "Wasn't talking to you bud."

With a groan Liam dropped his broad head back onto his paws and resumed his vigil. His eyes, ears and nose were all on the lookout for predators. Be it the kind they were used to or the dead sort.

It was depressing in the bar. Not just because everyone was dead. No, it had been a depressing place before the world had ended. Somehow Dane knew that Hershel had spent many nights here, ignoring his family and trying to drink away the pain. Yet he'd come around in the end and become a good, loving father. He needed him to come around again and escape this trap he was setting for himself.

Dane sat down at the bar next to Hershel and draped his arm over the old man's shoulders. "Bad shit happens," Dane said bluntly. "All the time. It always has, and it always will. I know you're hurting, but life doesn't end. You got family back at that farm that's worried about you. They need you. Beth needs you."

"C'mon," Rick said in a calm but firm voice. "Let's get you back to the farm."

Hershel relented and stood. The effects of the alcohol were already apparent. As he took a step he wobbled, his body threatening to tip over and have an unpleasant meeting with the hard wooden floor. Dane quickly scooped under his arms, steadying the old man.

"There now. Take it easy. One step at a time."

The door opened and two strangers appeared. Their arrival had a sobering effect on Hershel. Meanwhile, Rick and Dane exchanged surprised glances before turning to the unfamiliar men.

"Who the hell are you?" One of the men asked.

"I could ask you the same question," Rick replied, his hand hovering near his sidearm.

The discovery of Sophia as a Walker in the barn had been hard on everyone from the quarry camp. Though Daryl had been taking it harder than most. For him it was a personal failure. The hunter had become insufferable. His usual volatility had hit new levels and he was lashing out at anyone who happened to get in the way or come to close.

Daryl had separated himself further from the group causing a fair amount of concern among some. When Carol came out to check on him, he was in a particularly foul mood. The sight of her pain was like pouring salt on his wounds. All his failures bubbled to the surface of his mind. He'd failed Sophia and he'd failed this woman who had trusted and depended on him. No one had really depended on him before, and so far as Daryl was concerned, he'd rather no one did again.

"I'm not going to let you pull away from the group," Carol insisted. The woman was undeterred by his hostile attitude and refused to budge.

Daryl glared at her. Every muscle in his body was tense and ready to snap. "Just go!" He bellowed at her. "I don't want you here."

Still Carol wouldn't leave. She couldn't, not after everything the man had done for her, everything he had done for her little girl. That man didn't owe them anything, they weren't his kin, yet still, he searched harder than anyone else for Sophia. He had cared more than the girl's own father ever had. That alone had earned him a place in Carol's heart.

"You're a real piece of work, lady," Daryl spat, angered by her quiet persistence. "Whatcha gonna do, make this about my daddy or some crap like tha'?" Daryl stopped and scoffed. "You don't know jack. You're afraid. You're afraid 'cause yer all alone. Got no husband, no daughter. Ya don' know what to do wit yerself. Well ya ain't my problem," he told her, shouting, "Sophia wasn't mine!"

River stopped at the sound of their raised voices before stepping out of the forest back onto the farm. She held back, not sure what she should do. There was too much hurt that Daryl was trying to suppress. It would be weak to let it show. Overwhelmed, he lashed out harder, trying to push Carol away. "All ya had to do was keep an eye on her!" he shouted angrily as he took a step towards her.

Reflexively Carol flinched at the aggressive gesture. Not that she thought Daryl meant to hurt her, but after years with Ed, she couldn't stop it. Daryl swallowed and took a step back. In that moment he realized what he'd done. He recognized the sign. Him and Carol both stood there and stared at each other, though Daryl didn't say another word.

The four men stood in silence staring at what they had done. Two bodies lay lifeless on the floor in a pool of blood. They were the bodies of the living, men who had sought to take the farm from them.

"What do we do now?" Dane whispered as they listened to the men's friends outside looking for a way in to the bar. They were none too happy to have heard what happened to the other two from their group.

"We go out the back," Rick instructed. He was maintaining a certain calm under pressure which Dane attributed to his police training. Rick, Glenn, Dane and Hershel scrambled quietly towards the back door. If they could make it to the car they'd be okay.

"Glenn, you're the fastest. You go. We'll cover you."

It was hard to miss the fear on Glenn's face as he glanced at Dane. The trapper nodded encouragingly. "Go ahead. We got ya." The butt of Dane's rifle was planted firmly in the meat of his shoulder as he scanned the area in front of them.

Glenn gulped nervously, but went. Rick and Dane were good men, and good shots, they would watch out for him. Still, running out into the enemies line of fire wasn't exactly his top choice of activity. In a way though, he was best suited for it. This sort of thing seemed to be his forte ever since he'd started doing supply runs to Atlanta for the quarry camp.

One of the men from the other group popped up across the lot. He raised his rifle a second too late just as Glenn was ducking behind cover. Dane reacted quickly, taking aim and firing. The man fell, but the wound wasn't instantly fatal. The shot had just missed the heart. Dane grimaced, it wasn't like shooting deer. Not only because he wasn't positive in the exact placement of the vital organs, but also because that was another human being.

The nearby Walkers smelled blood. The aroma wafting out to them like a fine meal. Their dinner bell rang with the injured man's agonizing screams. Shuffling along at the pace of the dead they changed their course towards an easy meal. Dane watched in horror. He would be eaten alive. That was no way for any man to die. He chambered another round and put the man out of his misery.

Unwilling to risk more of their lives the other group retreated from the return fire of Rick and Dane. They bailed out in a white pick up truck. It stopped just long enough alongside the building for their gunman up top to leap down. Unfortunately for him, he missed, impaling his leg on a gate. It seemed his friends didn't have much for loyalty as they chose to drive off and leave him there.

"C'mon, now's our chance we've got to go," Rick urged.

"Wait!" Dane called the rest of the group to a halt. Rick turned to him questioningly. Dane pointed to the boy impaled on the gate. "We can't leave him."

Once Carol had left the coast was clear. River figured it was alright to come out. She wouldn't be interrupting. Quietly, she slinked from the forest's edge.

Not quietly enough. "Ya evesdroppin'?" Daryl sneered.

River ignored the accusation. She'd overheard them, but that hadn't been her intention. "You know, Carol was only out here because she cares about you. It wouldn't hurt to not be a jackass for a change."

"Don'tcha even start wit' me," Daryl growled. "I ain't in the mood for yer shit, tellin' me what I should and shouldn't be doin'. Since when's it any of yer business anyhow?"

River threw her legs casually over a fallen log and sat looking at Daryl with her head cocked to the side. "Since I care about you too."

"Maybe that's yer problem," Daryl scoffed. "Dunno whatcha expect me to be. Yer knight in shinin' armor or sum shit like that? Got news fer ya princess that' ain't me. Dixon's don't give damn bout no one. Jus' look after 'em selves."

"Is that what you want me to believe?" River asked incredulously. "Really?"

"The truth, ain't it?"

River jumped off the log she was sitting on and stormed over to where Daryl was standing. The little brunette was fuming. "I don't think it is. I think you do care. Not just about me, but about all of us."

Daryl laughed dismissively.

"Except," River said bitterly, "That you're so socially backwards that that scares you. Well tough shit!" She was practically shouting at Daryl.

River stood mere inches away from his chest. He could feel the warm moisture of her breath through his threadbare shirt. Daryl reached down, grabbing her roughly around the back of her neck, forcing River to look up at him. His blue eyes were filled with anger or desire, she couldn't tell. Maybe it was both.

Looking down into her green eyes Daryl could see fire. It wasn't extinguished by the emotional tears welling up in the corners. Instead it only burned brighter. He licked his lips, wanting to taste her, wanting to kiss her furiously and unleash the torrent of emotions building up behind his wall. The girl must have senses it as she leaned in instead Daryl scoffed and shoved her away from him.

"Git outta here," Daryl barked, turning his back on her. Before he could make things worse than they already were, he needed for River to leave.

"You're not alone anymore!" River shouted at him. "You better get used to it." Frustrated and upset, her chest heaved up and down with each breath.

Daryl spun on her, backing her into one of the trees surrounding his tent. His body was so close River swore she could feel it. Her skin tingled as he looked her up and down. There was a dangerous expression in his eyes. It was the look of a hunter sizing up it's prey.

"I ain't whatcha want, girl," Daryl warned her.

"Why don't you let..."

Daryl didn't even let her finish. He pressed his lips roughly against hers, silencing her. River let out a startled gasp, but pushed back with equal force. Daryl gripped one hand behind he neck, pinning her to the tree with the weight of his body.

Her heart raced and ever sense seemed suddenly more sensitive. She became aware of their body heat, of the rough callouses of his fingers on her skin, the scent of the wet forest behind Bohemia. She could smell Daryl, a musky, earthen scent. She could fell his pulse and her own, both beating wildly.

Daryl paused, his eyes searching hers. In them he saw excitement. He saw desire and need. A need he felt too. He didn't pick her up and take her to the tent, but took her there against the tree. When her fingers found there way to the edge of his jeans he let River work the button free and lower the zipper. His own hands moved down her body, sliding her pants down over her hips.

Daryl lifted her easily and River wrapped her legs legs around his sturdy waist. Gripping tightly with her legs she pulled him to her. With each rough movement he made the bark of the tree scratched at her back. River's nails bit into his skin as she tried to stifle a gasp of pleasure. Daryl moved harder, letting vent the anger and hurt he'd felt. It was aggressive, rough and angry the way he took her, but it was what they both had needed.

When it was over they both collapsed on the ground. Daryl buttoned his jeans and River pulled her pants back up over her hips. They both laid there on their backs staring up at the stars and feeling much needed release.

"Hey River..."

"Eh?"

Daryl turned his head toward her and smirked. "G'night."

"Goodnight Daryl." River rolled over and kissed him on the cheek.

Whatever wrongs River was so far willing to forgive the redneck hunter for, things would become more strained in the morning when the others arrived with their prisoner. His arrival would force River to face a past she'd rather forget and would open scars both old and new. When you love someone you accept them as they are. That's what she'd always believed. But would River be able to accept Daryl's new role?