A/N: Thank you all for the reviews, follows and favorites!

I have the final two chapters following this one roughly written. All they need is a good deal of editing and they'll be ready to post bringing this story to a close. I should have each of them up in no more than a couple of days. Remember there will be a SEQUEL (although it could be read as a stand alone.)

LivinJgrl123: I got to keep you on your toes ;)

Dalonega Noquisi: It certainly was long overdue.

Alexandria104: You are much too kind. Though I am glad you are enjoying my story :)

Tara2217: Yes, finally!

Emberka-2012: It is a new step, for sure. I expect some things will change between them now.

Day-of-the-Dead-TattooGal: Thank you for your continued support!

Piratejessieswaby: Exactly!

Leyshla-Gisel: Haha, yeah, well ya know, angry make-up sex and all. I've got to be careful. Don't want to get in trouble with the fanfiction mods, which is okay, I'm rubbish at writing those scenes anyways so easier just to imply most of it.

Chapter 38: Prisoner

When River woke up she had to rub her eyes. The previous night seemed like some sort of bizarre dream. One minute she was fighting with Daryl, the next their bodies were intertwined in some angry, passionate... Sex? Love-making? Fucking? What was she supposed to call it, she wondered. With Daryl Dixon? The man was practically incapable of showing any sort of affection or human connection. It had to have been a dream.

Yet when she rolled over in her cot and gazed across the tent she knew it hadn't been a dream. Her and Daryl had happened. Not remotely in the way she had fantasized about for nearly as long as she'd known him, but it hadn't been bad and she certainly hoped it wouldn't be the last time. The hardened redneck hunter did have a tendency to push her away any time she started to get close to him. She couldn't help but fear what had happened between them meant more to her than it had to him.

Still there was a glow about her that the others around the camp quickly picked up on. With Daryl, it was easy to spot the difference. The man seemed less hostile and more cooperative. River on the other hand, though they all gossiped, they couldn't quite put a finger on what was different. It was simply a glow, as they called it.

At breakfast Dale kept staring at the two of them. It made Daryl immensely uncomfortable, although River hardly seemed to notice the looks she was getting. Perhaps she noticed, but she just didn't care. Either way it seemed that Dale was waiting to corner either of them alone to make whatever insightful comment he had in mind every time he looked at them. Much to Daryl's relief, he never got the chance. Other drama arose, drawing his attention and giving him something else to meddle in than their personal affairs.

That drama that Dale so quickly became involved in started as soon as the men arrived with Randal. It was a bit of a cluster-fuck at first. Rick, Glenn and Dane had arrived back safely with Hershel. No sooner had everyone started to celebrate their safe return when it became known that they hadn't come alone. In the back of the car was a kid: bound, blindfolded and gagged.

The joy they'd felt at their companions safe return quickly changed to confusion and anger. "You really thought bringing him back here was the best idea?" Shane asked. There was such venom and disgust in his voice.

"What would you suggest?" Rick retorted. "That we just leave him to the Walkers?"

"Yeah man, that's what I would have done," Shane said coldly.

That was so like Shane, River thought. She snorted loudly in disgust. Daryl cast her a warning glance. Shane wasn't just cold. He was dangerous.

"He's just a kid!" Dale exclaimed, shocked by the sight of their prisoner. Randal was so much younger and innocent looking than he'd expected.

"He could lead them back here to the farm, to Lori and Carl. Is that what you want?" Shane asked.

Shane's words cut deep. Rick looked at his wife and son. Lori held Carl close to her, her arms wrapped around him. Never would Rick do anything intentionally that would put them in harms way. He resented the suggestion that that was exactly what he was doing.

Shane ran a hand through his dark, messy hair. "I don't know what you were thinking, man. The hell we supposed to do with him?"

Rick gritted his teeth. As of late Shane was putting him on edge. He always seemed to be questioning him, goading him, trying to undermine him. "We'll think of something," Rick said firmly.

Hershel and Dane were pulling the prisoner out of the back of the vehicle. "Right now what that boy needs is medical attention," Hershel said, disinterested in the ongoing spat between the two former deputies. "We need to do something about that leg."

As soon as Hershel mentioned the leg anger flashed across Shane's face. It was clear what he was thinking: He's infected and a threat to us all.

"He wasn't bit," Dane assured him. He could read Shane's face as well as anyone.

Shane looked at Dane skeptically. It wouldn't be the first time someone lied about being bit.

"He injured it in a fall," Hershel explained, seeing the lingering doubt on Shane's face.

No one wanted the newcomer in the farmhouse with them after they had been told the story of how Randal's group had shot at Rick and the others. So the kid was taken out to the barn where Hershel treated his injuries. There was a significant amount of muscled damage, but so far as the veterinarian could tell he would keep use of his leg. It would be a while before he was able to walk on it again. In the mean time Randal was to be kept prisoner, chained up in the barn.

Daryl and River were sitting at their camp away from the others. At one time it had simply been Daryl's camp and River slept there, but she'd been there so long now that everyone just referred to it as their camp.

Even with the food provided by the farm and cattle, the two hunters were content to continue to dine on roast squirrel, stewed squirrel, or any other variety on the theme of cooking the little critters up. Today it was rotisserie squirrel on a stick. River was meticulously peeling the stringy flesh from the bones of her dinner.

"The squirrels back home are smaller," River commented absently thinking of the little red squirrels she was accustomed to trapping.

Daryl merely grunted in acknowledgement. His focus was on the Scout Crossbow that was his baby, as River thought of it. Much like the pumpkin orange jeep was Dane's baby, or Liam was her baby, except of course her dog was capable of loving her back. For how dirty and grimy the redneck perpetually seemed to be, he kept that piece of machinery in immaculate condition. River figured it had much to do with his life depending upon it. Even before the Walkers started roaming the earth requiring it for protection, he'd looked to it to provide food to sustain himself. The brunette knew all to well what that was like.

River stood up. "I think I might bring Randal some," she said of the meat they had cooked up.

That got the man's attention. Daryl stopped what he was doing and looked up sharply. "The hell ya is!" He bellowed furiously. "Ain't no way yer goin' anywhere's near tha' asshole shot at our men."

River raised an eyebrow at Daryl's newfound protectiveness of her. "I wasn't asking your permission," she told him with an amused smile. It seemed, she thought, that maybe the previous night had meant something more to him as well.

Unlike the young woman sitting across from him, Daryl didn't find it amusing. He scowled but didn't continue to argue any further with her. He had sized her up and knew damn well it was an argument he couldn't win. Short of actually tying her up there wasn't much he could do to stop River from going into the barn if that's what she wanted to do. Even then the woman would probably find a way to wriggle free and go anyway. She had a stubborn streak like a mule and Daryl knew it.

Once she was outside the barn door, River found her confidence waning. Perhaps this wasn't such a good idea. Some demons, maybe, weren't meant to be faced she thought as she hesitated with her hand resting on the door handle. Silently River closed her eyes and breathed deeply. She had to focus on the present and not think about the things that had happened in her past. Bad shit happened, life went on and all that jazz, she reminded herself.

Mustering up all the courage she possessed, River opened the door and stepped inside the musty barn where they were keeping their prisoner. Randall hardly looked the threat everyone was making him out to be, she thought. He was just a kid. If anything he looked to be about the same age as Jason had been.

"You hungry?" River asked. She held out another rotisserie squirrel to the kid, placing it in his hands. Wisely this one had the stick removed. No point in handing him a weapon given his track record shooting at Rick and the others.

Randal snatched the food so quickly that River couldn't help but wonder when he had last ate. Without a word he began stripping the meat from the bones and shoving it greedily into his mouth. Maybe his group was as desperate as theirs had been beforehand coming to the farm. Maybe they were worse off.

When finally the kid had picked clean the bones he stopped and turned his head blindly towards his visitor. River had her head cocked to the side as she watched him intently. Her big, green eyes were filled with a sadness for him cowering there blindfolded and restrained.

"You aren't afraid of me like the others," Randal noted. He could sense her lack of fear.

At this River smiled and shrugged a shoulder. "If you try anything I can always kill you," she told him casually. Absent-mindedly she ran her fingers over the smooth, cool handle of her hunting knife. "So I really have nothing to be afraid of."

If River's relaxed demeanor had given Randal any ease it quickly evaporated. Nervously he swallowed and retreated a bit from her.

"Don't worry. I'm not here to hurt you."

Randal's face creased with skepticism. River could easily imagine the doubt in his eyes hidden behind the blindfold. "Then why are you here?" he asked.

River shrugged, not that the kid could see the gesture, and leaned up against the wooden wall. "Suppose I just feel bad for you," she muttered. "Thought you might like some company."

There was a certain vulnerability in her voice that Randal didn't miss. In it he saw a weakness, a chance to escape. "I was scared. Your guys, well they'd just killed Dave and Tony," he started rambling as he pleaded his case. "You have to believe me. I don't want to hurt any of you. Just let me go and you'll never see or hear from me again, I promise."

River could see what he was doing and rolled her eyes. "I said I felt bad for you, not that I was a sucker," she responded. "I can't let you go. I'm, sorry, really."

With that River turned and left the barn. As soon as her feet hit the cool earth she took off running at full stride into the forest. Only when her lungs burned too badly to go on any further did she stop and lean against a nearby tree. She was shaking uncontrollably.

"Life doesn't end," River told herself. As she took in each stinging breath of fresh air she had to push back the memories stirred by her visit with Randal and remind herself that she herself was no longer a prisoner.

Daryl hesitated as night rolled around. River had been acting strange all day. It was hard to tell if it was because of what had happened between the two of the, the night before or with Randal's sudden appearance on the farm. Either way, Daryl wasn't quite sure how to handle it so he stayed up late sharpening bolts for his crossbow, keeping watch over the perimeter of the farm and poking his campfire with a stick.

It became apparent to Daryl as the pale moon drew higher in the night sky that he was going to have to face River some time or another. Glancing at the tent he briefly considered crashing in the back of Hershel's rusty pickup for the night delaying the inevitable at least until morning.

Reluctantly Daryl dismissed the idea of hiding out to avoid the woman long gone to bed in his tent. If he was lucky she'd be sound asleep. With the same careful silence he used to stalk deer, Daryl tiptoed towards the tent. Undoing the zipper slowly, he peeked inside. River was curled up on the cot. She had her back to him and her knees tucked up to her chest. Liam snored softly at the foot of the bed rather than in his usual place on the floor.

Before Daryl could breathe a sigh of relief River twisted her head around and met his awkward gaze. The sound of the rustling tent fabric must have alerted her. Her eyes were swollen and red. She'd been crying. Unequipped to deal with it, Daryl cursed inside his head. Not sure what else to do he walked across the tent and sat on his cot.

"Thought ya'd be asleep," Daryl muttered. He kept his gaze averted as he began unlacing his boots.

River didn't say anything as she got up and moved slowly across the tent. Daryl watched her hesitantly. The woman went right to him, climbed onto his lap and began kissing him. There was a deep desperation and need, a hunger as her mouth met his. Where it came from, Daryl didn't know, but he was perceptive enough to feel it.

"The hell's gotten into ya?" Daryl asked as he pushed her away.

What had happened the other night was... Well he wasn't sure what it was. It was good. He couldn't deny that, couldn't deny that he wanted River, that he enjoyed the way she tasted, the way she felt, the way she made him feel. But this, whatever she was doing tonight, it came from somewhere else entirely.

"Shh...," River held a finger to Daryl's lips and leaned in to kiss him again.

"Ya don't really want this..."

"You," River said, jabbing a finger into Daryl's strong chest. "Don't get to tell me what I do or don't want."

Before Daryl knew what was happening River had his pants undone and her hands wrapped around him. There was only so much he could resist when he'd spent so long wanting her himself. That much was beyond his control.

Each night that followed went much the same. Something had gotten into River since Randal arrived. While Daryl wasn't entirely comfortable with the circumstance, he couldn't deny that he enjoyed it. He couldn't deny that it felt good having River's body intertwined with his and the release that followed. Still, there was a nagging voice in the back of his head. Something wasn't quite right.

When breakfast rolled around River was absent yet again. It wasn't difficult for anyone to guess that she was out in the barn.

"River is spending an awful lot of time with the kid out there," Lori commented to Rick and the others.

"I wouldn't worry about her," Dane said casually as he shoved another forkful of food into his mouth.

"What's he to her anyhow?"

Dane looked away, digging into his food. It was a long time that he'd known River. The two of them were extremely close. All her secrets, all the things she kept buried away from the rest of the world, they were known to him. It was simple enough really. In a way she could relate to Randal. She saw herself in his situation and knew what it was like.

"I don't like it. It makes me nervous," Carol said, wrapping her arms around herself.

Leaning up against the wall away from the rest of the group was Daryl. He chewed at his thumbnail listening to them speak. Carol wasn't the only one unhappy about River's choice of company. He'd tried telling her to stay away from Randal, but a lot of good it ever did trying to tell River what to do.

"Well I think it's commendable that at least someone is treating Randal like a human being," Dale added snidely.

"He shot at Rick and our men," Lori reminded them. "He's dangerous. I wish he was gone from here."

"That makes two of us, "Maggie agreed. Unconsciously she reached over and squeezed Glenn's arm.

Rick sighed. There was always a burden weighing down his shoulders and the man was starting to look tired. He scanned the room and saw the uneasiness among the others in his group.

"His leg is doing better. Shane and I will take him away from here tomorrow."

Daryl scoffed from where he stood at the fringe of the group. "What's to stop him comin' back here wit' his posse?"

"We'll blindfold him," Rick assured everyone. "We'll take him far out and leave him. He won't be able to find his way back. He doesn't know where this farm's at."

Daryl's eyes narrowed. There was a certain amount of skepticism for Rick's plan as he sized the former deputy up.

That night River seemed more relaxed than she had in the two weeks since they had brought the prisoner back to the farm. While Daryl sat outside his tent cleaning the catch of squirrels he'd brought back for the day she joined him and pitched in like old times.

Usually that would mean nothing, it was normal, but considering that it was the most anyone had seen of her all week, it meant something. When she hadn't been in the barn, she'd been hiding in the woods, or crawling into Daryl's lap searching for some sort of human comfort to ease the turmoil brewing inside her. Obviously Rick's news that they would be releasing Randal had helped to calm her.

Daryl chewed at his bottom lip, periodically stealing glances at the young woman. Her past didn't change anything between them. It shouldn't matter. Still, he could help but wonder what it was that drew River so strongly to the prisoner they had locked up in the barn.

"The kid," Daryl asked River. His voice was gruff. As he spoke he sawed into the belly of a squirrel with his hunting knife. "Why ya care what happens to him?" Waiting for an answer, he squinted and peered out at the young woman, his blue eyes searching for some clue.

River looked up, surprised by Daryl's voice. Normally he was content to sit in quiet company with her... lately, maybe a little more. That suited her fine. They got each other, and that was more than she could ask for in the post-apocalyptic world in which they found each other. Before the end days she'd given up the hope of finding anyone like him. After the Wildfire outbreak, well, it was a bloody miracle.

River shrugged. "Guess I just know what it feels like to be where he is."

There was a deflated tone to River's voice that he wasn't accustomed to hearing. Daryl frowned and swallowed. It pained him to see her that way. Though he didn't push further he couldn't help but wonder if she was referring to what had happened at the IKEA or if there was more to it than that. In the awkward silence that followed, Daryl's eyes fell back to the half skinned animal in his hands.

The two said no more for the rest of the evening until River decided it was time for her to turn in for the night. She got up and kissed Daryl gently on the cheek, the way she always did. Saying her goodnights she retired to the tent. To their tent.

As River moved, Daryl let his eyes follow her, taking in her curves and the gentle sway of her hips. How'd he end up with a woman like her? She was perfect. Merle would have berated him for going soft and falling for some girl instead of just using her and ditching her. But Merle wasn't here and Daryl cared about River. Maybe he more than cared about her. Daryl swore to him self then and there that whatever haunted her past, River was his now, and if anyone tried to hurt her again they'd be getting a bolt through the skull.