AN: Here we are, another chapter here.

I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!

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"Axel!" Daryl called out as soon as he saw the small-framed man shuffling along, purposefully dragging his feet while Sophia rode wide circles around him and around the back parking lot. Axel turned, smiled, and waved at Daryl like he hadn't seen him in ages. He started toward Daryl. Sophia, not at all alarmed at the moment, continued pedaling in her circles.

"Tiny's around front," Axel said. "With Kickstand."

"I know," Daryl said.

"He went to see what was going on," Axel said. "I told him I didn't mind walking with her."

"Appreciate you for it," Daryl offered.

"Asshole's gone," Axel said. "Took off an' Willis was out there with Kickstand so he just said he'd follow him for a while. Make sure he was good at findin' his way outta town."

Daryl nodded his acceptance and appreciation of Axel's news. The man was terminally cheerful. He reported on the whole thing like he was giving Daryl the lowdown on a surprise birthday party they were planning. Still, Sophia liked Axel and he let her twist his mustache—something else she liked for some inexplicable reason.

"Nobody's been around here? Messin' with Soph?"

"Ain't nobody messed with nobody, really," Axel said. He shrugged his shoulders. "I was around front when the asshole left. He didn't mess with nobody. Just—cussin' to himself and got on his bike." He laughed. "Mad about his whole face."

"Fucked his whole fuckin' face up," Daryl said with a laugh. "I broke his nose an' Negan mighta come close to breakin' his jaw. The fact that he could still bitch about it at all's a modern fuckin' miracle."

Axel glanced over his shoulder when Sophia yelled out to him. He waved at her and she waved back before yelling out at Daryl. He waved at her, too, and she happily dipped into another circle. Daryl looked back at Axel to see him taking in the state of things. Daryl's clothes were splattered with blood from breaking the asshole's nose. He could wash his hands, and Carol could patch them up with bandages from the first aid kit, but the stains wouldn't come out of the shirt.

"It was your woman?" Axel asked.

Daryl only hummed in response. He lit a cigarette.

"She hurt bad?" Axel asked.

"Says she's fine," Daryl said. "Merle put in a call to Al. She's on her way just as quick as she can get a break. Weren't in surgery so that shouldn't be too long. He hit her face pretty fuckin' hard. It's already startin' to bruise. All her teeth are OK, though. Nothin' looks broke anywhere. Still—I want Al to make sure that fine means fine an' not…not I'm not gonna complain' 'cause my asshole ex woulda busted me another one for complainin'."

Axel nodded his understanding.

"What you want me to do, boss?" He asked. The "title" that he used was more affectionate than literal. Daryl was nobody's boss, and Axel didn't truly believe that Daryl was his boss. None of them were exactly great at feelings and offering comfort for various things, so they found their own ways to offer what they could.

Daryl smiled at him and clapped him on the shoulder.

"Want you to keep on keepin' watch for a bit," Daryl said. "Make sure nobody gets no ideas." He laughed to himself and gestured in Sophia's direction. "But relieve Soph so I can talk to her a minute."

Axel nodded and walked back in Sophia's direction. He called out to the girl, and Daryl heard him talk to her as she stopped her bike. He told her that Daryl needed to talk to her a minute. He helped her off her bike. Daryl heard him, as he affectionately squeezed the little girl's shoulder, offer her the same words he might have offered any other member of the MC when he wanted to relieve them of some kind of duty.

"I got it from here, Sister," Axel offered.

Sophia left her bike in Axel's custody for the moment and trotted over to Daryl fast enough that he called out to her to slow down because he didn't think his heart could take seeing her stumble over her own feet or the loose gravel. He'd seen enough hurt today. He wasn't sure his chest could take much more. He was tired and he didn't want the aching anymore. He didn't want to see her crying over skinned knees or hands when there was nothing he could do to punish the parking lot for those injuries.

"We were lookin' out for assholes, Daddy!" Sophia offered, approaching Daryl. Her tone of voice and the look in her eyes said she was seeking approval for what she'd said—and it wasn't over her use of "assholes."

She'd been trying the title out, off and on, but it still clearly worried her.

"Don't say assholes," Daryl warned. "It'll upset your Ma. But the rest of it sounds real good to me, Soph." She smiled in response. "How's it feelin' to you?"

"I like it," Sophia said.

"Good," Daryl said. "Come here with me a minute, Soph. I wanna just—talk to you."

Sophia followed him over to the grassy area where he sat, and she let him pull her into his lap. She looked worried enough, though, that the first thing he did was simply hug her against him as some kind of effort to let her know that nothing was wrong. She'd done nothing wrong.

She looked a little relieved when he pushed her away to get a good look at her again.

"Are you mad because I said assholes?" Sophia asked. "Because that's what Axel said we were lookin' for."

Daryl laughed to himself.

"Sweetheart, I'm not mad at you for anything," Daryl offered. "And—Axel weren't wrong. It's just that your Ma would rather you didn't say assholes. It's a grown-up word. You understand?"

She nodded, whether she understood or not. She was eying him with a great deal of concern. Her little eyebrows practically knitted together in the middle of her forehead.

"Are you hurt?" She asked.

"What?" Daryl asked. He sat her in the grass next to him and she sat on her knees facing him. He reached in his pocket and shook a cigarette loose from his pack.

She poked him solidly in the chest with her finger.

"Your shirt," she offered.

Daryl lit his cigarette and she reached for his hand. He let her have it, lighter and all, as he puffed on his cigarette.

"You got hurt!" She offered, a little more frantic than a bandage should really make her. Daryl shushed her.

"I ain't hurt," he said. "Not really. Not—bad."

Her eyes were brown, but they were every bit as soulful as Carol's.

"What happened?" She asked.

"Remember them assholes that Axel was talkin' about?" Daryl asked.

Sophia nodded her head.

"They hurt you?" She asked. "Because we didn't let none of 'em get by here."

She started like she might get to her feet. She started like she intended to go and demand an answer from Axel on how he'd let assholes slip right past him because they surely hadn't passed through where she was keeping watch. Daryl caught her by the arm as she got to her feet, and he tugged her back down.

"Just sit with me, Soph," Daryl said. "I ain't done talkin' yet. You didn't let no assholes slip by you. Turns out the asshole was already inside when we got here."

"I didn't see 'em," Sophia offered, wiggling around on her knees now. It was clear that she was getting worked up. There was something coming that she wasn't going to like, and she could sense it as surely as she might have sensed rain coming if clouds had rolled in overhead.

Daryl nodded his understanding. He put his cigarette out in the grass and pulled Sophia back into his lap in the hopes that his proximity would calm down some of the growing anxiety she was feeling.

"Listen, Soph—I don't want you worked up," Daryl said. "The asshole was inside when we got here. And I got in there to get him. You see?"

"That's what happened to your hand?" Sophia asked. Daryl nodded. "You hit him?" Daryl nodded again.

"I hit him a couple times," Daryl said.

"It's not good to hit people, Daryl," Sophia said sincerely. Daryl laughed to himself.

"Now I'm Daryl again?" He asked.

"Daddy," Sophia corrected. "I'm sorry."

He shook his head at her.

"Don't be sorry," he said. "You got nothin' to be sorry about. I know—you don't like hittin'. To be honest? I don't like hittin' neither, Sophia. Never. But some people? They need to be hit."

"The asshole needed to be hit?" Sophia asked. Daryl raised his eyebrow at her and she looked sheepish. "I'm sorry," she offered.

"The man needed to be hit," Daryl said, helping her reword things. He was as much to blame as anybody else for Sophia's inability to keep her language clean. They expected her to take their language and wash it clean enough to be acceptable, but her language skills weren't that advanced yet. She still needed some help, after all. "Sophia—you're a big girl. And you're—one hell of a Judge. So there ain't no need in me tellin' you stories or not tellin' you shit, right? You can handle the truth?"

Sophia nodded her head.

"I can," she offered quietly, clearly not sure if she could or couldn't, but certain that she would try.

"When I got in there, the man that I hit, was…well, Soph…he was hurtin' your Mama." Daryl held to her because he expected just what she tried to do. She tried to get to her feet to run inside. "She's OK," Daryl said, pulling her back so that she wouldn't run away. "Your Mama's gonna be OK, alright? She's gonna be fine. Just fine."

Sophia's bottom lip had already rolled out to be three times its normal size and there were big dragon tears puddling in her eyes. Daryl hugged her to him and held her tightly.

"She's OK," he promised her again as he somewhat sat on the grass and rocked her. There was nobody out behind the building but Axel that would see, but he didn't really care who saw him. Any of them was an asshole of the first degree if they'd let Sophia be upset, alone, without giving her a hug to help soothe it over. Daryl's heart broke, though, when he heard Sophia's sadness shatter into tears—and then those tears grew into a wave of sobbing.

His heart broke because he knew Sophia wasn't crying for just what the asshole had done—she didn't even know the extent of Carol's bruises, which Daryl had come out here to prepare her for so that, among other things, she wouldn't suspect or worry that he'd hurt Carol. Sophia wrapped herself tight around him and cried loudly and pathetically for all the hurt that she'd ever seen on her mother—and it was too much hurt for a girl who, Daryl was suddenly aware, was only a few short years beyond her babyhood.

"Shhhh…" Daryl hummed, rocking her. "Shhhhh…it's alright. It's OK. She's OK. She's alright. It's OK." He rocked her until she calmed. He didn't force her into it. He simply waited her out. And when she calmed, he pushed himself up enough to wrestle his handkerchief out of his pocket and he used it to mop her face before holding it to her nose and demanding she blow her nose for him so that he could make sure she was cleaned up.

Her face was red and her eyes were puffy, but she was under control again.

"Mommy's OK?" Sophia asked.

Daryl nodded.

"She's a lil' sore," Daryl offered. "So maybe we just—hug her gentle for a couple days, right? And her face's gonna be bruised up. But she's OK. And Alice's comin' to make sure she feels as good as she can."

"And you got him? The asshole?" Sophia asked.

Daryl didn't bother correcting her. He simply nodded his head.

"Yeah," he said. "I got the asshole. And then we threw him outta his club an' outta the motel an' outta the whole damned town. And if he comes back? We'll throw him outta the whole fuckin' state of Georgia for good."

A smile flitted just barely over Sophia's lips. Daryl wasn't sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing that she was so pleased by that information, but he was glad that it helped her for now. The last thing she needed was to live in constant fear of the asshole.

"Soph—I just wanted you to know that—it weren't me, OK? I wanted you to know that I didn't hurt your Mama and I wouldn't never. And if you don't believe me, Sophia? Merle was in there and Andrea was in there…Negan saw it. They can all tell you. OK? I don't want'cha to think it was me. Because it ain't never gonna be me. I'ma stop anybody that ever hurts her—or tries to hurt her—but I won't never hurt her. And I won't hurt you, neither, Sophia."

Sophia nodded.

"I know that," she said. "Daddy," she added, still clearly testing it out. Daryl smiled to himself and brushed his hand over her cheek to take the last of the moisture that dropped from her eyelashes.

"You wanna go in? Make sure I ain't lied to you an' everything's OK? See for yourself?"

Sophia nodded and Daryl helped her get up before he got to his own feet, accepting her hand and pretending that he used her assistance to get up.

And he smiled to himself when, on his way toward the motel, Sophia slipped her little hand in his and squeezed.