Thanks to girllyingbythesea901, Dontdrinkmyjuice, kc4612, stefaniewilliams32, mercemac, FedoraLover23, bubble-star, Comidia Del Arte and Ariella81 for adding this to your favorites/alerts lists!

Leyshla Gisel: Darlene! Haha, you've just become my favorite person! Never had a couple name for one of my stories before, it really saves time on typing answers about them! Talk with Daddio has arrived and there are some tears all around. Haha, I can't wait to explore William and Daryl in situations together, my oh my do I have things planned for my sequel :)

FanFicGirl10: Gut feelings tend to be right unfortunately. Haha I figured you where hinting at William and Carol so she'd back off! I'm planning on another hook up for Darlene before this story ends so look sharp! Man, everyone's waiting for Will and Daryl to talk (me too!) so I'd better get moving ;)

WaterWarrior6: Hehe I feel like I should name a teddy bear Merle too because I feel so damn bad! Walking Dead certainly ate up my holidays, and I have no problem with that. My New Years was spent in marathon mode with a flu, best day ever! Well er, half of our wish came true in the finale…and that's all I can say about it.

BrodyMichael: Thanks for the two reviews, they were both very insightful! I definitely have layers to peel back on William, but up front he is the stand-up savior that I wanted him to be and I'm glad people are taking to him. I'm getting antsy to type out him and Daryl talking, that relationship will be fun to unfold and I like how you worded it best. See, I got Shane to make you smile, something that was probably never thought possible! I like hearing my readers are smiling, so I'll try to get cheeky again real soon!

SilverAdvenger12: They have now become one super being call 'Darlene'! Hehe glad you are smiling, I hope I don't bring tears soon, but that might happen.

Korvescence: I'm totally on top of getting more Darlene moments to happen, so never fear! The awkwardness had only begun for poor Daryl with her father, but I can promise on Jolene's promise of stuff happening.

Disclaimer: I own the Bakers, that is all.

Everyone packed into Hershel's dining room nice and cozy. The chairs had been filled at the table with others surrounding it in a not so splendorous fashion. They'd been invaded by an outsider, corroding what little order they had strived so hard to build united. Jolene was offered one of the chairs, sitting beside Andrea with her father leaning against the wall beside T-Dog and Shane. The tension in the room was palpable enough to suck out the flame on a match. This shouldn't have been their problem from the start had Rick done the hard choice and left the kid to his own fate. This world was about the hard choices, and Rick was still trying to be the decent man when he decided his.

Hershel was the last to join from upstairs. Beth had woken up with the return of her father but other than that, no one was sure on how she was doing mentally seeing as she had taken her own little vow of silence. Patricia had taken Carl and Sophia from the room after this conversation was deemed inappropriate for children. No one had disputed that otherwise, as it was, no adult even felt quite comfortable with the new turn of events discussing a young man's fate over tea and hot rolls, "So Rick, what are we gonna do?" Shane asked sourly. Good way to starts things off, nothing like a dose of bad attitude.

Rick squinted at his best friend before addressing the room, "I think it'd be best that once he's up and about, we pack up a survival kit and send him on down the road."

"How long will it be before he's able?" Lori asked Hershel.

"I'd give him a week." Hershel was wringing a dishcloth on his washed hands, something to distract himself with, "The damage to the lower leg was severe, but we repaired it as best we could so he can at least walk." Hershel shared a look her way to confirm and she nodded silently.

"A week?" Shane's tone went hand in hand with his skeptical expression, "How do we know his group ain't looking for him?"

"They left him there." William said simply, "After he fell his group drove away. I don't think they anticipated for him to survive."

Shane considered her father before his eyes redirected at Rick, just like they always did and were full of accusation, "You killed two of his group and shot another one for dead and you don't think they're looking? They know we're around the area Rick, kind of have to wonder how desperate they are."

"No one's looking!" Rick fired back in aggravation, "They'll think he's dead. Why would they have any reason to believe we took him with us?"

"So why did you?" Shane's stare held blame.

"It was a snap decision." Glenn defended, "We couldn't just leave him there to be torn apart by walkers."

Shane let out a sarcastic laugh and shook his head, "So we're just taking in any injured person that shoots on one of our own now, is that it?"

"He's just a kid, I couldn't leave him there like that!" Rick argued heatedly, "We'll fix him up and send him on his way."

"For a whole week?" Andrea asked, her face looking as unsure as Shane's and a lot of other peoples.

"We should still post a guard; make sure no one comes looking." T-Dog suggested.

"We'll take care of it." Rick looked to Shane, the helpless friend still clinging to the hopes that what was once there hadn't faded.

Shane snorted, "Keep telling yourself that Rick." He started to mumbled comments while thundering out of the room in his boots with Hershel following, laying into him with a lecture. Apparently the barn fiasco where Shane had raised a ruckus hadn't been so easily forgotten on Hershel's part. The only reason he was allowing Shane to stay was for Rick and the group's sake. If he put another toe out of line he was equitable to throw Shane out though it was anyone's guess on how Shane would retaliate before Hershel got the chance. Lori was by Rick's side, his head hung a little lower while his face was marred into frustration.

"So William, you're cool staying here?" T-Dog asked with a grin. The gears shifted and everyone was looking at him as he came to full attention.

"If there's room for one more." He stated politely. Jolene had never known her father to be a man of confrontation or a strategist and she wondered how all along he had made it this way, "I can see there's things in your group that haven't been sorted out. I don't want to add to that."

"Daryl has an extra tent." Carol volunteered, "I'm sure he can spare it?" The way she looked at him made it seem like he had no choice, that it was expected of him. Jolene felt guilty because it was her father who put him at an inconvenience, and no doubt the spare tent had been Merle's. His skin looked like it was crawling as he leaned against the jamb, hesitant to meet Carol's and William's faces. He nodded, his eyes cast down to the carpet while his grip slackened on the strap of his crossbow.

"How'd you get down here anyways? Jolene told us you were from Canada, not exactly around the corner." Andrea pointed out though not rudely just utter curiosity.

"I was in Savannah, waiting for Jolene for her wedding."

Jolene saw stars after having thought the sky had fallen into the room. The news brought chatter of the enlightened kind. She hadn't spoken much on that matter and when asked she'd told the person who questioned that she hadn't been all that close to a dream wedding. That wasn't a lie; Savannah, Georgia hadn't been where she had set her first sights, but her and James had decided it because it was closer, warm climate and overall fit their low budget. She was going to wear a simple dress and everything with a pathetic bouquet of flowers. The guest list had been next to nil, though news that her parents had shown up was a surprise to her as well, "How did you know?"

"James called. He wanted it to be a surprise." Mission accomplished with a side order of embarrassment. It must have sounded ridiculous to everyone else that she hadn't known her own parents were coming to her wedding. Not that it was their business thank you very much, "Where is James?"

She rested her head in her palm while shaking her head, "Not right now."

"Maybe we should let you two talk alone." Dale suggested. Not alone. Alone meant facing the reality of what had happened and until now she had been content to go on blissfully unaware of the life she'd left behind, "Come on son." She didn't look up, but she knew who Dale was talking too. Daryl was hesitant to leave her side more than half the time recently and the news of having heard how close she'd come to marriage must have been a shock to his system. Like an unpleasant douse of hot water after coming in from a cold winter day.

Jolene was feeling a little sick herself. Something she was longing to prolong had inevitably shown up just like she knew it would. A discussion with her father felt like a court hearing and she had to take an oath before it all got started. Daryl had looked worried for her which wasn't helping (well worried and hopeful which was her fault for teasing him outside). He was supposed to be the rock when things got down to the nitty gritty, or at least, he always had been. Of course, it wasn't really his duty to be there for her every time something went wrong—which was frequent—no matter how much she wished it. Not to burden him of course, she could be there for him as much as he was there for her and she justified that to herself by condemning it to benevolence.

A hand landed on her shoulder and she realized everyone had evacuated the room except for her and her father, "Want to have that talk now?"

No, "Of course." He was quick to fill in an empty chair at the empty table, sliding it out on the other side away from its brothers to keep his distance. Not that it changed anything, he'd had his hand on her shoulder and it had felt cold and hollow like an icicle, "Should I start? I'd ask if you want the good news or the bad first, but honestly I only have one brand to give you and it isn't ideal."

"Nothing is any more Jo." He reminded. She'd had that stupid nickname since a kid and still felt her heart ache with love every time she heard it.

"Guess you're right." She knocked her hand against the table, cocking her head to the side, "Dad, I was separated from James months ago. We were attacked only a few weeks into the outbreak. It was just me, James and three other people leaving Savannah for Atlanta because the news broadcasts had spoken about survival shelters and the CDC was there…anyways, that doesn't matter. I got his ring back though, and a letter written by him directly."

Her father looked bemused, "How did that happen?"

The barn was a long story and she didn't know if it would be a wise decision to go into the details of Hershel's belief of the sick people before Shane had decided to go AWOL. Everything was different now, the tension and walking on egg shells around Hershel and his family had stopped now that walkers were viewed as enemy number one by all and it was about damn time too. "One of my old group members showed up dead. He had James's things with him. I know he's alive out there somewhere, even if it sounds crazy."

He regarded her with careful intrigue. Sometimes she thought her fathers knowledge of the flow of life was perpetual. He had an answer for everything, usually within logic and reason even if it wasn't always what she wanted to hear, "You're handling this well; better than I would have expected."

"And you think there's a reason for that." Maybe she should have lamented more for James, but he'd even said in his letter that she needed to continue to survive, and putting him out of her mind was the only way to achieve that. 'Of course, certain things are making it easier', a little knowing voice told her in her head and she did her best to push it back.

"I do." He agreed with immaculate confidence, "I've noticed you have people who are close to you here and I'm sure they have kept you strong."

Oh Hell, she knew what he was doing. He had his suspicions, but he was waiting for her to confirm them; as if she needed to. She was a grown woman with laxity and had free reign to make her own decisions, "They have. We work well as a group."

The corner of his mouth lifted into half a smile, knowing full well she had been prudent to sidestep what he'd been hinting at, "You're not going to tell me?"

She shook her head, not helping as a laugh escaped her, "His name is Daryl and he's my friend. Anything else, you'll either have to pick up along the way or ask him yourself."

"I would ask him." Her father admitted, straightening himself in his chair, "He's avoided me so far. I have to think he doesn't want to talk about it either."

Daryl was modest when it came to who he interacted with so she didn't find that too hard to believe. No doubt her father probably put him in an uncomfortable situation he'd never faced, "Alright well, enough about that. Dad, we have to talk about mom."

His face grew vacant, but she wasn't going to drop this. She would continue to pepper him with questions with a brazen tongue, "If I could spare you the pain, I would."

"What's that mean?" Her voice was small, the bleakness unknown to her.

He cleared his throat once, twice and again for good measure. What he had to say he'd have to get through with great difficulty it seemed. He was a man with a parched tongue, crossing the desert sand to his daughter in the wake of devastation, "I've been traveling alone for a long time." The words were muttered so silently, she thought he had whispered them in her ear, "I lost your mother outside of the hotel. I didn't understand what was happening at first and I even tried to save her. I took her away from that place, but I still don't know why. Running wasn't going to solve the problem; all I had to go on was the national broadcasts and my good intentions of keeping her alive. It was too late, heck, I could see it in her face that she'd come to accept it even when I hadn't. The wound, it looked like a bad infection spreading over her body and I remember the smell was like the morgue of the first hospital you worked at. She protested for so long about the pain she was in, but I didn't listen. I wasn't there to listen. I did my best to put it out of my mind. It was the longest three days of my life and I despised every moment of it."

She reached her hand across the table, fitting her short fingers around his wrist as she walked around the piece of furniture that separated them, never severing her grasp on his arm. She sat down in the chair beside him, suddenly with this sick urge to vomit, "Dad, stop. Stop doing this to yourself!" Her words fought him, going in one ear and out the other again in a swift manner.

"When it was finally over…I was happy. It had nothing to do with her being free of pain, I was glad because I wouldn't have to deal with it any more. What does that make me?" He was shivering all over, like he'd come down with a sudden case of pneumonia and his eyes were brimming red. No tears fell though, not one drop of water squeezed free from those heather eyes, "She changed some time in the night. We were alone in our rental car and I was staring ahead wondering how much longer before the next day and my Hell would continue. I don't know whether it was a blessing or my worst nightmare come to pass before me. I'd realized she'd stopped breathing four hours before, and her sudden intake of breath told me I wasn't alone…but I was. That wasn't my Helen." Her father never referred to her mother by name when talking with her. She wondered if he had forgotten who he was speaking this to as he was wholly absent of person, "I didn't have a weapon when it attacked me. I stumbled out of the car and it tried to follow when I finally reacted. It was crawling and stumbling you see, like a fish out of water or... something not alive. I looked down at it as it lay on the pavement and its eyes looked at me, canary yellow not almond brown. When it pushed itself up slowly, I realized I didn't want it to get back up, to look at me like that ever again. When it sat up I lunged for the open car door, slamming that things head between it over and over again until I was just mashing into blood and bone. It wasn't until I stopped to breathe…to look at what I had done that I knew I had murdered my wife."

"No dad." She took his face between her hands, forcing his gaze on her. They looked passed her or through her, "That wasn't mom. She wouldn't have wanted to live as one of those things." Jolene felt her own tears escape her and it was killing her that her father was so numb. There wasn't anything she could think of to take his blame away. His hands brushed hers away and he turned in to face the table, resting his elbows down on the polished surface before he rested his forehead down on his open palms. The old grandfather clock in Hershel's foyer was giving her a screaming headache, maybe because no noise was coming from her father other than collected breaths. Her tears continued to stream and she could no longer stand to be in that dismal room. She escaped the house in a stealth and quick run, burning through the pain that was suffocating her inside out. She headed to the only place she wanted to be, that little corner of peace in the dead world.

Daryl had taken to posting guard with T-Dog before supper. Really he just needed the excuse to be useful, and to be away from whatever Cherry and her father were goin' through. Goddamn, felt like a fuckin' bomb had gone off in Hershel's tiny dinin' room, blowin' apart the legs of that perfect ornate table. Once again Shane and Rick were at odds (big surprise) while the rest of the group was gratified to let them, and time take care of the problem. Daryl didn't give a shit when the injured kid left, so long as it happened—sooner was better than later though. He also wanted to forget 'bout what was said in there though the words 'wedding' and 'surprise' kept buzzin' 'round in his head like big flashy billboards on the interstate. Forget about it. He was insecure as Hell and patrollin' wasn't doin' him any favors. If anythin', he was allowed more time with his thoughts because not much was doing at the moment. He was thankful when Rick came to relieve him.

"Go eat you two. I can handle this." He assured with sumthin' of a sour look. Guess he was havin' a shit day too and Daryl wasn't 'bout to get involved in whatever that was.

"You sure?" T-Dog asked. Rick only nodded, ushering for them to get going and Daryl was already halfway back to camp without arguin'; must have been a new record he thought poignantly.

One look at the sorry camp of people and he decided against goin' over to 'em. Shane no doubt was workin' some new contrived plan over Andrea and she was buyin' into it 'cause of some conjured rivalry between her and Rick. Daryl wasn't sure if either of them was aware it existed, but from observin', Daryl could sense they were two people who weren't gonna sit down and work together 'cause of circumstance.

The rest of the women looked busy with the kids, remindin' him sharply that they were gonna have another tyke comin' in eight months; joy. No sign of the new addition anywhere though, nor his daughter. Probably a good thing 'cause he wasn't feelin' too solid at the moment to deal. Lord help him, it'd only been a day and already he was goin' stir-crazy. Nothin' to do but kick back and do a whole lot more of…nothin'.

Dale acknowledged the fact that he was back with a quick wave from the RV, one that Daryl returned half-assed—probably looked more like he was brushin' him off. What the fuck ever though, he turned his attention away, fixin' open the flap of him tent, nearly shittin' his pants that someone was already in there. Normally he woulda been prepared for sumthin' like that, but the tent felt like it had dropped cooler than the air outside and he wouldn't have had anyway of knowin' she'd be there. Well-er, she was sort of there, at least physically, but the look on her face was makin' him ill. Her eyes were red and wide, what he figured the dead girl's from the barn would have looked like before her time was up. Her knees were pulled to her chest, which happened to be dressed in a large grey sweatshirt. Damn, he'd only said she didn't cry much for kicks and giggles, she didn't need to take him that seriously. As much as he didn't want to be in the same tent as a cryin' woman, he zipped the flap shut before people started to wonder why he wasn't goin' into his tent. The last thing she needed was an audience and he could at least do that for her.

He stood awkwardly, waiting for her to say sumthin'. She looked like Hell, utterly miserable to a point he thought she would never be in. He rested his crossbow down carefully, half afraid that a sudden movement from him might make her jump like an animal caught in a trap. He crept down to the floor, kneelin' before her while wavin' a hand slowly in her face, "Cherry Darlin'..?"

Her eyes snapped to his promptly. Well at least she knew he was there, "I'm fine."

Bullshit. He didn't say that though. What she was dealin' with didn't need his aggressive attitude, "No you ain't. I ain't gonna ask 'bout it and you don't gotta tell me. Stay here if you need to…I'll give you yer space or whatever."

He barely got off his knees before she was with him, wound tight at his middle. He let out a breath of air as she tackled him, not quite anticipatin' her hold to be that tight, "I don't need space. I just need a minute." She mumbled into his neck.

He hadn't been listening all that well if he was bein' honest. Why was he stuck in this position? Huggin' made him uncomfortable enough, and with a cryin' woman thrown in he was twitchin' with all sorts of back the fuck off. He was tempted to pry her away from him, but it seemed he lacked the stone heart to do it. To her credit, she was a silent crier, never givin' off those God-awful wails accompanied by a bad case of runny nose that left snot stains. She mighta been earlier, but he could see she was almost fed up with the sobs herself now. That minute she needed turned out to be longer, and for a moment he felt like it was her holdin' him instead of the other way around.

'Just put yer arms 'round her dummy, it ain't rocket science.' He wasn't sure if that was himself or Merle yellin' at him, but either way it got him thinkin'. Shit, why was this so difficult? The way he was makin' it seem, you'd think huggin' had a methodical approach. Why was she even here in the first place; couldn't there have been a better person for her to seek out…like a woman maybe? Jesus he felt like a bastard. Had sumthin' to do with her mother or indirectly her father; the pair went hand in hand. Her tears were pools of scolding water on the occasion that one would dive onto the flesh of his neck where she kept her face buried. She was breathin', big sighs in and out while he stood still as a statue. This couldn't go on the way it was without him feelin' like a dolt so he went in with baby steps, bringin' his left arm around her back and restin' his hand on her hip. Easy peasy. Actually kinda made him warmed too and the cold that had been there before was chased off from the two of 'em.

'Hey look at that, got a real hug goin'.' His conscious laughed at him, but it was quite a leap and he was too damn proud to care. Not wantin' to ruin anythin' by bein' himself, he shut down while lettin' her have her moment.

"I'm tired." Her lashes teased his skin when her eyes shut against him. He didn't know how he knew it then, but he figured she wasn't just talkin' 'bout deprivation from sleep. Tired of all the one way bullshit livin' from day to day, and tired of sleepin' but never getting' rest. Daryl felt it too often as well, but there was some bizarre comfort to know he wasn't the only one. He never liked to voice his complaints to avoid lookin' weak and mainly 'cause it didn't make one damn bit of difference. He was safe here with her though, in that little corner of peace in the dead world.

And I feel like I'm breaking up
But I wanted to stay.
Headlights on the hillside
Don't take me this way.
I don't want you to hold me
I want you to pray,
'cause it's bigger than us.

Bigger Than Us, White Lies...

A morbid chapter, I'll admit it, but it needed to be done. I feel like this was a different stride that needed to be taken in Darlene's relationship (name credit to Leyshla Gisel) and it sets the pace that I have planned for my sequel (dying to get there!) Sorry if the truth of her mother made you cry, but I needed to show a different side of William that some may have suspected was lurking (there are some layers there). He was a little too optimistic for the Apocalypse don't ya think? So I had to bring him down to everyone else's level though make no mistake, he was already there, just better at hiding it. Umm, I have no words about the finale except that it was a big middle finger to the audience. I could rant on for a chapter's length about what I hated about it, but I'm not going there simply because I'm ready to move forward and the six month wait will heal my bitter wounds. Gotta say, I got a kick out of the call on Talking Dead though from Chattanooga…WTF?! See you all soon my lovelies, I will continue to write so you have some walking dead to still look forward to every week!