Sorry for the wait on this. Real life has been crazy mad lately.

Daryl was getting restless. It was an extremely hot and humid day and he had entertained himself by sitting on the end of the dock with the legs of his brown Carhartt pants rolled up and dragging his feet through the cool water.

He had made his way up to the second floor and entered the bedroom that was going to be Glenn and possibly Maggie's. It was the room that had belonged to the boy with all the guitars, and Daryl had helped himself to two of them, a Gibson acoustic Doves in Flight and a Taylor custom 12 string acoustic. He stowed the 12 string in the closet in his room and took the Gibson out to play with.

Daryl had started playing the guitar when he was about 8. His mother had played and he had vague memories of her playing and singing in the bedroom he shared with Merle. She had a lovely voice and she had sung old ballads and songs. "Down in the Valley" was one she did often, and it was the first song Daryl taught himself. His mother had disappeared when he was 7; his father telling him and Merle that she had gotten sick and tired taking care of their lazy, good for nothing asses and had never wanted them anyway. Now she was gone and it was all Daryl and Merle's fault, but especially Daryl's. Merle was never asking her for help with his homework or asking stupid questions about birds and squirrels and clouds and other nonsense such as that like dumb-ass Daryl always did. That had certainly helped to drive the poor woman nuts, according to his father. Daryl had felt terrible and for a while, Merle had taken every opportunity he could to rub it into his younger brother's face.

Daryl had found his mother's guitar in the back of his father's truck one Saturday morning. He was taking a load of things to the dump, and Daryl noticed that most of what he was taking were his mother's belongings. Her clothes, the little collection of glass and ceramic angel figures, her knitting basket and needles, the basket brimming with partially knit mittens and an almost finished dark blue sweater, and a pile of photographs, including Merle and Daryl's school pictures. Daryl had grabbed the photos of his mother with Merle and Rebel , stuffing them into the pages of one of his school books, and he had swiped the guitar, an old Martin, and had hidden it in a tent that was set up deep in the woods behind their back yard.

Merle had bought it for him for his seventh birthday; a little army pup tent from the surplus army store, and Daryl had thought it was the best present in the whole wide world. Their father had never seen it and Merle had set it up for Daryl where it now stood. Merle used it when he didn't have any other place to get high or drunk or if he didn't have a place to sleep when the old man would get mad and throw him out. Daryl figured out that Merle had pretty much bought the tent for himself, but as long as Merle tolerated his presence in the tent, Daryl was happy.

Daryl would go to the tent after school, take the old guitar out of its case, and try to mimic the little he could remember of his mother moving her hands along the frets and pressing her fingers down on the strings. He didn't have very good luck. His father liked to watch "Hee Haw" on Sunday evenings and Daryl hated it, but he started sneaking into the living room and sitting on the floor next to the couch when it was on. He would watch Roy Clark and Buck Owens and whatever hick guest stars would be on the program play their guitars and try to memorize the various positions of their fingers as they played chords. Merle teased Daryl and called him a pussy for trying to learn to play the guitar, but as time went by and Daryl started to get good at it, Merle would ask Daryl if he thought he could play some Skynyrd, and Daryl would do his best. Merle was usually drunk or stoned when he asked, but Daryl didn't mind and Merle would fall all over himself telling Daryl how good his playing was and how proud their momma would be. Of course, when Merle sobered up or came down, Daryl was back to being the guitar playing pussy fag, but that was okay. Merle had never hit him for playing the guitar or told him to stop when he was practicing.

Now Daryl sat with the Gibson in his lap, adjusting the tuners as he dragged his feet through the water. The guitar was nicer than anything he had ever played, although it was a bit too ornate for his liking. "Pussy artsy fartsy gay lookin' thing." Imaginary Merle commented, "fits you just perfect, my pussy artsty fartsty gay lookin' baby bro."

Daryl, having finished tuning the guitar, strummed a C chord and sang under his breath, "Fuuuuuck you… Merle."

Imaginary Merle snorted, "Great comeback, baby brother. Ya ain't the sharpest tool in a' shed, are ya?"

The first brain fart of the day arrived. Daryl strummed a couple more chords and lowered his voice so it was deep and scratchy and quietly sang, "my name is Merle an' I'm a fuckin' dumb ass, an' if my brain turned inta gas there wouldn't be enough ya know to get an ant on a bike 'round a Cheerio."

"Oh ha ha, tha's rich. An' baby brother? Do ever'one a favor an' stuff that guitar up your narrow lil' pansy gay ass."

Daryl strummed on the guitar for a few more minutes. It was getting too hot sitting in the sun. Sweat started running down his face and his neck and his sleeveless t shirt was starting to get damp with sweat. He placed the guitar back into the case and was just standing up when he heard the F150 descending the driveway.

Maggie had said something about weeding the garden so more than likely she was out in the back yard and could greet today's group of invaders. Invaders? Visitors. Yeah, that was it. Visitors.

Daryl wasn't in any mood to be around a lot of people, (was he ever?) and picked up the guitar and walked inside to seclude himself in his room. He heard Hershel's voice drift in through his partially open window and sighed and rolled his eyes.

Hershel was going to give him holy hell. Daryl started to get mad anticipating the tongue lashing that he knew he was in store for. He couldn't help it that he had a bad temper and that Rick had fueled the fire yesterday by accusing him of taking a shitload of morphine.

Of course, he hadn't known what the hell Rick had been talking about and then Rick had asked if he'd killed T-Dog. Now that had really pissed him off. Yeah, he was scum compared to the rest of the group, and he knew that. He knew Rick thought he was scum just like the rest of them did, but he had been surprised and more than a little hurt that Rick had thought he was even more vile and aberrant than scum. How could Rick actually even think that he would have it in him to kill T-Dog? Shane, maybe, but T-Dog? Shit, why did he even care what Rick or any of them thought of him?

"Fuck 'em." He said under his breath as he put the guitar away in his closet. "Fuck 'em all."

Glenn released Maggie from the hug he had just given her. "So," he said, "how did things go last night?"

"I'll tell you all about it a little later," she promised him, "come on, let's help Dad and Dale." Maggie rushed to the fence to see if she could assist her father as Rick and Dale prepared to boost him up over the chain link fence. Glenn was right behind her and held on to Hershel with her as he scrambled to make his way onto solid ground again inside the fence.

"Rick," Hershel exclaimed when he'd caught his breath, "please tell me that you will be installing a gate on this side of the fence today before we leave."

Lori was right behind Rick and nodded, "Yes, Rick," she added, "You do intend to do that today, don't you?"

Dale stood next to Lori. "I would find that extremely helpful as well," he said. "Now do you think you could give me a boost up onto this fence, too? I'm not as young as I used to be and I'm afraid my fence vaulting days are over."

Rick laughed and gave Dale a boost up onto the fence and Maggie and Glenn helped him down on the other side.

"Yes, I'll get the gate moved today." Rick looked through the fence at Glenn as he boosted Lori up and over it. "Glenn, you wouldn't mind helping me with that, would you?"

"Heck, no. It would be my pleasure," Glenn answered with a smile.

Rick nodded. "Shane and Carl will probably be here later this afternoon and Shane can help, too."

Dale volunteered to help as well. Rick hoisted himself up over the fence and jumped down, landing on both feet in front of Maggie.

He had been anxious all the way to the lake house. Daryl had still been off on his motorcycle when Rick had left the evening before. Rick had been quite sure that Daryl would be returning to the house, but with Daryl, you never could be sure of what he might do. He was relieved when he drove down the driveway to the house to see Daryl's Harley parked nearby.

He reached over for Lori's hand and then addressed Maggie. "How is Daryl doing?"

Maggie thought she saw Lori roll her eyes. "He's doing just fine. Ate like a horse at breakfast. He said he slept alright. He's actually been a very good boy. I think riding off like he did took more out of him and ended up hurting him more than he thought it would."

"Good." said Hershel. "Maybe it was just the incentive he needed to keep himself still for a few days."

Dale readjusted his hat on his head, "We've all heard that he isn't very good at following doctor's orders."

Rick sighed. "Isn't that the truth. How long after we left before he got back?"

"Couple hours, I'd say. He really wore himself out."

Rick nodded, "I need to talk to him about the meds he's been taking."

Maggie shot him a surprised look and noticed that Lori did as well.

"Why," Lori asked, "is there something wrong with what he's taking?"

Rick looked wide eyed at Lori and then at Maggie and pulled an excuse out of his hat. "I'm not sure. I just want to see how they're making him feel. He was disoriented and way too tired yesterday early afternoon when I was trying to talk to him."

Maggie smiled. "Yeah, he's trying to fix that. He's been really trying to take the Tylenol instead of the stronger stuff. I saw him pop four of them at once last night. I told him that he's going to destroy his liver, taking acetaminophen in those quantities, but you know Daryl. He never listens to anyone."

Rick looked worried, "He took four Tylenol? All at once? And he's okay?"

"He's fine." Maggie said with a smile.

Lori smiled, "Four at a time?! Why not just take the stronger stuff?"

"I think he's afraid of becoming addicted." Maggie replied. "I think he's seen a lot of people go down that path."

"I'll bet," Lori said under her breath. Lori cleared her throat and smiled as she squeezed her husband's hand. "You're going to show me and Dale around before you talk to him, aren't you, or is it more important to talk to Daryl first?"

Rick smiled at his wife. "Of course I'll show you around first." He brought her hand that he held in his up to his lips and kissed it. "I can talk to Daryl later." He turned to Dale. "You are both going to love this place."

Dale grinned and said, "I'm already impressed with what I've seen so far."

Lori squeezed Rick's hand again and agreed with Dale, "So am I."

Maggie told them that there was a pitcher of iced sweet tea in the refrigerator for them and Maggie and Glenn set off to find out where Hershel had disappeared to. Maggie had seen him as he went into the house and wondered if he was going to be giving Daryl an earful. She was sure Shane had filled her dad in on Daryl's pulled stitches.

Maggie and Glenn found Hershel in Daryl's room just as Maggie had expected that they would. Daryl was on the bed lying on his right side with his undershirt pulled up high on his chest.

Hershel was just starting to peel away the tape around the bloody bandage and he was in the midst of giving Daryl a lecture. "When was this last changed? It looks like you've been having quite a bit of bleeding. How is the pain? Bearable? Son, what on earth made you think that leaving this house and driving away on a motorcycle so soon after undergoing a surgical procedure was a good idea?"

Glenn smiled and waved at Daryl, "Hey. I just wanted to see how you're doing."

Daryl nodded in his direction, but didn't look at Glenn or Maggie. He was watching Hershel as he pulled the bandage off, mentally preparing himself for the browbeating he was sure was coming in a matter of seconds. He wasn't disappointed.

"What on earth happened?! What is this? You not only pulled your stitches, you literally shredded a good half inch of skin and connective tissue! Are you trying to get an infection? Look at this! Just look! See this lump right here?" Hershel pressed down on an area of stitches Daryl had sewn the day before. Daryl flinched and hissed. That fuckin' hurt. "This indicates that the stitches in the muscle below this are ripped, too. Do you know what this means?"

Daryl sighed, "I got a pretty good idear but I'm sure you're gonna tell me."

"It means that I've got to pull these stitches and stitch up the muscle layer and then restitch the skin and connective tissue." Hershel dabbed at the bloody stitches with a gauze pad soaked with betadine. "So," he asked Daryl, "Do you want to come upstairs to the med room or shall I take care of this right here?"

"Which is easier for ya?"

Hershel blinked. He was surprised that Daryl hadn't protested or resisted Hershel's plans to repair the incision sutures. He was even more surprised that the gruff and usually disagreeable man was seeking to go whichever route was easier for Hershel.

"It would probably be easier for me to use the medical room on the third floor," Hershel announced. "It would make for easier access in case I'm suddenly in need of a surgical instrument..."

"Or a debilitating drug?" Daryl added sarcastically.

"If necessary, I suppose," Hershel shot back.

The corners of Daryl's mouth turned up just slightly. The old man certainly had balls.

Rick smiled. Dale had gone with Maggie for his own personal tour of the house and he and Lori were on their own and Lori was falling in love with the place. She had all but shrieked when she first saw the kitchen, inspecting all the stainless steel appliances and the smooth rose granite counter tops. There was even a dishwasher. The kitchen island had cupboards beneath it that held a full set of Le Crueset and All Clad cookware. Lori walked over to Rick, who was just popping a k-cup into the Keurig coffee maker and wrapped her arms around him from behind him. "I can't get over this! This is my dream kitchen. Last year when we were talking about remodeling, these are all the things we had on the list, and more!"

Rick turned around, the big smile still on his face, and hugged her, then kissed her forehead. "See? I told you you'd like this place, and you've only seen one room!"

Rick lead Lori up the stairs and showed her the bedroom that was going to be theirs. It had a two windows overlooking the lake and Lori forgot her anger about not having the master bedroom on the first floor. This was a lovely large room and there was a walk in closet that was almost as big as Carl's bedroom had been back at their house. Suits and dress shirts hung on one side of the closet and dresses, skirts and blouses hung on the other. A neat row of shoes ran across the carpet beneath the hanging clothes on each side of the closet. A shelf above the hanging clothes held folded sweaters and dress pants. The room's furnishings were made of cherry. The bed was a queen sized bed and there was a bookcase headboard and a nightstand on each side of the bed. Lori opened the cedar chest at the foot of the bed and smiled as she inspected and handled the contents.

"Look at these linens!" she said happily as she looked up at Rick who had seated himself on the edge of the bed. "Flannel sheets, down comforters, quilts and duvets. This will be so nice for cold winter nights!" She approached the big double dresser with the huge framed mirror over it and started going through the drawers. There were women's clothes and undergarments in the double dresser. A similar search of the tall bureau on the other wall revealed drawers full of men's clothing and undergarments.

"We need to go through the clothes," Lori told Rick. "Once everyone is here, we can get them all together and sort out whatever fits us. I'm sure everyone would love to have some new pieces of clothing."

Rick came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, "So, now you think moving in here is a good idea?" She smiled and looked at his reflection in the mirror as he peered in it over her shoulder. "Rick, I'm sorry I doubted you. I think this house is wonderful, if we can be sure it's safe "

"I'll make sure it's safe; and you haven't even seen all of it." Rick grinned. He was happy that Lori had softened to the idea of moving into the lake house. She seemed pleased with this room as well. For a second he thought of asking her if she was over wanting Daryl's room, but then his brain kicked into gear and he didn't mention it. After all, the door to Daryl's room had been closed when they walked by towards the laundry room and they could hear Hershel speaking rather loudly to Daryl through the door.

Rick showed Lori the rest of the house. Lori smiled when they entered the game room on the third floor. "Carl is going to love this! Look at the size of those screens, too." She walked over to the shelves of DVD movies and looked them over before turning back to Rick with a smile on her face. "We can have movie nights!" She embraced her husband, gave him a quick kiss and then held him, her head on his shoulder. "This is amazing. Hot water on a regular basis, a great kitchen, a working laundry room, our own room with a big comfortable bed and it's fenced in." She hugged him harder. "Thank you Rick, thank you for doing your best to keep us all safe."

Rick held her and kissed her forehead. What was he supposed to say? Daryl had found this place, so really it was Daryl that deserved the thanks. Rick smiled when he thought of the chain of events that had brought him to this place. If Shane hadn't had the fight with Daryl, would Daryl have left and found this place? If Daryl hadn't left his crossbow lubricant back where the last pile up of cars was on the highway, would Rick and T-Dog have even found him? If they hadn't met up with Daryl that day, things would be so different. Daryl would have been royally screwed. He could have become a walker dinner on the highway that day and if he had avoided that fate he would have succumbed to internal bleeding within a week. The lake house would have sat, unused and unknown to the group. Right now, at this moment, Rick thought, he was happy. In the midst of the hell on earth they had been plunged into, sometimes, just sometimes, life gave you a good bounce.

Glenn was excited. He had been in the war room since leaving Daryl's room earlier and Maggie was giving Dale the grand tour. He loved spending time with Maggie, but this was some serious work he was doing and he was actually grateful for the lack of distraction while she was off with Dale. Glenn was fiddling around with the security system camera program while sitting at one of the stations below the wall of monitors. Now he had nine of the camera feeds showing active in the computer program, but not showing up on the monitors. He swore to himself that he would have all the cameras online before he left that day.

Rick came into the war room with Lori. "Please tell me this room is kept locked!" she exclaimed, eyeing the firearms on the wall. A room like this was just begging for Carl to explore and run wild in it.

Rick tried to reassure her. "It will be locked and you know I've already spoken to Carl about this room. He is not allowed in here at all without adult supervision."

Lori looked rather doubtful, but nodded. Rick showed her the med room and the sleeping quarters room. He explained to her that the room had been locked and padlocked and that Daryl had found two walkers in the room when he had finally gotten it open. Lori walked down the hall with Rick, hand in hand. "I'd like to stop in and say 'hi' to Daryl," she said to Rick.

"Really?" Rick scratched his head. " I know you're not a big fan of Daryl's. Why would you want to do that?"

"I admit, Daryl is a bit too rough around the edges for me to have much of a desire to want to get to know him very well, and I don't think he likes people in general anyway, but he did tell you about this place and invite us here. That tells me that I misjudged him and that he really isn't the selfish jerk I thought he was." She paused for a moment. "I still think he's a jerk," she added, "just not a selfish one."

Rick raised an eyebrow. In his opinion, Lori was closer to the truth than she thought. Daryl was one of the biggest jerks he'd ever met, with Merle coming out on top of the list which was impressive as Rick had given Merle that coveted top spot less than ten minutes after meeting the man. Daryl was down near the middle of the list. Ed's 'jerk' rating had been higher than Daryl's. Lori was right, Daryl wasn't selfish, but he was anti-social, sarcastic, suspicious and as stubborn as a mule; all completely valid 'jerk' qualities.

"I'll go in with you," volunteered Rick. "I'd like to see how he's doing and I need to talk to him, too."

Lori shook her head. "I'd really like to talk to him alone, if that's okay with you. You know, thank him for inviting us to come here, tell him how much I like the house."

Rick nodded, "That's really nice of you honey. I'm sure he'd appreciate that."

On their way downstairs, Rick and Lori passed Hershel, Dale and Maggie on the stairs to the second floor as they made their way up to the third. Dale was grinning ear to ear. "This house is fantastic!" he said as he grasped Rick's arm for a second in passing. "I think we'll all be very comfortable here." Rick agreed wholeheartedly as he continued down the stairs.

When they reached the first floor, Rick gave Lori a squeeze. "I'm going to pour some iced sweet tea for us. I think it would be nice to sit on the deck for a little while, talk, you know, make some plans."

Lori smiled and released his hand. "That sounds wonderful. I'm just going to pop in and see Daryl and I'll be right out." She kissed Rick on the cheek and he walked towards the dining room as she approached the door to Daryl's room.

Lori bit her lower lip and sighed, then rapped her knuckles on the door.

"C'mon in," said a gruff and tired sounding voice from the room.

Lori pushed the door open and stepped into the room.

Daryl was sitting up in the bed, restringing his crossbow, his eyes glued to the task at hand. He glanced quickly at Lori and then back to the cam he was threading the string through. "Hey, Lori," he said. "Slummin' it today?"

"Now Daryl," she scolded as she looked around the room, "is that any way to greet a visitor?"

"Pfft." Daryl snorted. "Sorry, I'm fresh outta champagne and fancy hors d'oeuvres or I'd offer you some."

Lori walked over to the entrance to the bathroom and peeked inside.

Daryl smirked. "Don' be shy, go on in there an' take a look aroun'. Be kind in your assessment, though. Maid's got the day off an' I ain't much for housekeepin'."

Lori looked around at the bathroom. She ran her fingers along the smooth stones imbedded in the walls and walked over and looked into the huge Jacuzzi tub. This was amazing. Even the shower was impressive, and the little built in bench was so cute! This was not a bathroom made with a man like Daryl Dixon in mind. It was, however one made with someone like Lori Grimes, someone who appreciated the finer things in life, in mind.

She stepped back out into the bedroom and looked around at it. It was huge and the furniture and the Berber carpeting was of very high quality. The bed was huge. Why the hell did Daryl need such a big bed?

His eyes had followed her as she came out of the bathroom and she suddenly noticed that he was watching her.

"This is a pretty big, fancy bedroom." she commented as she sat herself down in the chair by the closet. "Are you comfortable in here?"

Daryl wasn't quite sure how she meant that because yes, he was comfortable in that room and no, he wasn't. Physically, yes, he was extremely comfortable, but was he comfortable being in that room? No, because it was too good for him. He didn't deserve a room like that and he knew it. Worse than that, Lori knew it and would make no bones about saying so. He smiled the nicest fake smile he could muster and said, "Yes. Yes I am."

"Good. I'm surprised, though. I thought a guy like you would think this was all way too fancy….and that bed, that bed is big enough for four people. You must feel lost all alone in there at night."

Daryl put his crossbow on the bed next to him, folded his arms across his chest and sighed. "I offered the room to your husband more an' once an' he turned it down. You got a problem with 'at, see him 'bout it. Now if you're done checkin' out the place.."

"No," Lori interrupted him. "I wanted to talk to you about something, too." She saw the Tylenol bottle on the nightstand and nodded her head towards it. "Is that all you're taking? Tylenol? Hershel said he'd given you some heavy duty painkillers. Are you trying to play tough guy?"

Daryl narrowed his eyes and glared at her. "Ain't none a your business, but yeah, I'm tryin' to go with the OTC stuff. Seems to work just 's well, maybe better."

"Really? Do you have to take them more often, though, and do you have to take more than just one or two?" Daryl's stare was making Lori feel uncomfortable. "I mean…I'm just wondering, because I know when I've had surgery there is no way I would have been able to get by with just Tylenol."

Daryl nodded. "I tried to use the other stuff, don't seem to work any better."

Lori sat forward and put her hands on her knees. "Daryl. It's driving me crazy and I have to know. Are you going to say anything to Rick about what you think you know? About me and Shane? About Otis?"

Daryl raised his eyebrows. So here it was. The real reason for this nice little social visit from Mrs. Rick Grimes. She wanted to know how much trouble her skinny little ass was in and how much of a threat Daryl was. Obviously, Shane had spoken to her.

Daryl sighed, "Look here. Jezebel. I'll tell you the same thin' I tol' your boyfrien'. Rick's gonna figure the Otis thing out himself one a these days, an' if it'll make you feel better, he prolly already has an' just has decided to ignore it. I ain't gonna say shit 'bout that."

"Shane is not my boy.." Lori was livid.

"Shhhh shhh shhh...I ain't done."

Now Daryl Dixon was shushing her?

"Rick's a good man, don't deserve the bullshit you an' Shane are pullin', but I ain't gonna stir the pot, I ain't gonna say shit, but that's only if you an' Shane behave yourselves once you're moved in 'ere. Any bullshit hanky panky and you're busted. 'S 'at clear?"

Lori glared at Daryl. "I love my husband," she told him, "and I'm trying to make things work with him. I'm pregnant and stressed out enough and I don't need threats from you."

Daryl slid off the bed and approached the door. "I ain't threatenin' no one, and if things are as you say, you got nothin' to worry about." He opened the door and motioned to Lori to leave.

She stood up and stopped directly in front of him and said angrily under her breath, "A friendly word of advice, Daryl. You don't want to be getting into my business. You choose to and you might want to be watching your back."

"I always do. Now if you don't mind, I got things to do."

Lori left the room and Daryl shut the door behind her. He sighed. The bullshitometer was in the red zone again. He tried to push Lori and Shane out of his head. He had enough of his own problems to deal with. Hershel was upstairs and had told Daryl to give him fifteen minutes to get his supplies out and then to meet him in the med room.

He really didn't want to make that trek up to the third floor and subject himself to Hershel's surgical abilities again but what the hell else could he do? The abdominal muscle stitches had been pulled and needed to be repaired. It was his own damned fault for doing all that digging the night before last and then taking the motorcycle out for a joyride. Maggie was going to be in there, too and this time they were going to try a local anesthetic so he'd be awake during the procedure. Daryl hadn't decided yet if that was a good thing or not.

Daryl came out of his room a few moments later and headed up the stairs. As he walked through the great room, he could hear Lori and Rick laughing out on the deck. He started up the stairs and started wondering if Lori knew anything about Shane switching the Tylenol for the morphine. She sure seemed to be interested in how many Tylenol he was taking and why. Maybe he was just being paranoid. Maybe not. She certainly had issued a clear threat as her parting remark to him. Yes, things were going to be interesting once everyone was all moved into the house. He could hardly wait.