She liked to call him « the man". Sure, he should have been a boy given how old they had been back there, but for her, even at 15, he had been the man. Her man. The one who made her want to be more feminine and be able to give him big doe eyes that made him want to get one knee, to propose marriage or perform certain delights.

He was "the man" for her.

When she had realized he had been the one standing guard in front of her trailer, she had been befuddled, for a second. Then, she had taken this fact in stride.

He came every night, and she ended up working more and more at night, while he was there. They did not always talk, but when they did, she always felt like she had heard…. Maybe not God, but what had been said, it mattered, way more than when you were in a bar and a guy pretended to be a banker or whatever to try and trick you into sleeping with him.

When Daryl talked, he gave her parts of his soul and his heart. She gave back in kind, grateful for this dynamic between them.

When she worked on the piece of furniture she was giving a second life to, he would watch her, and she loved knowing his eyes were on her. She never felt like she was being stalked, she felt… embraced. It was strange, but he was a hunter, and the fact that he had found her after spotting her bow at that pawn shop… He was a wonderful hunter, and she absolutely adored being his prey.

He would tell her sometimes that he would not be able to show up the next day because he needed to go get a doe or a deer, and he always seemed so disappointed that he would not be able to show up the next day. She hated it, yet at the same time, it took her a long time, comparatively, before she heard herself say:

"Maybe I could tag along."

Michonne was silent and the two of them worked on instinct. They had managed to kill the three people on their trail, stupid fuckers. Perhaps they had been hunters, but certainly not trackers.

Daryl had managed to grab one before he croaked his dying breath, and had asked him questions, promising a swifter death if he answered.

Daryl's family was near, some man had sent his lackeys to do away with him, because he wanted to take over a farm where people were staying.

As he died, he provided them with so much information, more so than they had gathered in their long tracking of his family.

There was a sense of urgency neither of them could deny. They were this close, and while the man who had wanted them dead was throwing a coup, they were given positive proof that Daryl's wife, his daughter and his brother were still alive. Such a knowledge had to fuel their determination.

One of the now dead for good men had a map in his jacket, and while the settlement was not located on it, it helped them get a better picture of where they were, and how to proceed from them.

She saw the man look as if yelling inside as he noticed that they had been searching in the opposite direction of where his family had to be. Then again, as he had mentioned, the clues they had been given had been making little sense lately…

"We're nearly there," Michonne finally said.

She looked over to her former travel companions, who had been shot and now were dead as doornails. She found no compassion in her heart for the shells they offered. They had been bad men, and as guard dogs, they had just done their job. Maybe God would find his lot and consider they had somehow partly redeemed themselves. As far as she was concerned, the pain they had inflicted while still alive could not be compensated by the months they had spent by her side.

"We need to go this way," Daryl finally said, and she agreed.

They would be without walking protections, but now was not the time to care.

They took off running for a while, coming back to the highway. Then as they went into the woods, they came across new lands they had not explored yet.

It felt like they were advancing so fast, compared to the slow trail.

She nudged Daryl and pointed to the few tall houses which top they could see through the trees.

It had to be there.

It just had to.

Michonne made to start walking in their direction, but she noticed Daryl stopping dead in his track, as if someone or something was calling to him. He kneeled and put a finger to the ground.

"Flesh blood," he murmured.

"Probably one of the dead goons…"

And she was probably right, yet he shook his head.

"Your family is this way," she tried to convince him but he would not bulge.

"You go this way, and tell me what you find, I will look into this blood. We meet back here before nightfall."

As he has saved her life, more than once, she spared him a scene and simply agreed. She started jogging toward the trees, and hoped he was not being deceived.

The first time they had made love, it had been on a hunt.

Nothing gruesome like fucking on top of a dead carcass, mind you. They had been tracking a doe, and she had come so close to him, with her bow on her shoulder.

When he had given her back her bow, she would have sworn she had sworn to God she would take this man to be her husband, to cherish and to hold, to have babies with, and everything the old-bearded deity wanted. It had felt like fate.

So when her shoulder had bumped against his, and their arms had touched, the feeling had been electric.

The doe had hoped away, blissfully unaware of the fact that it had been so close to death, but the two hunters had been locked in each other's eyes.

Unlike their first kiss, the second was more savage, the result of pent-up lust they had decided to cultivate and cherish, knowing it would make the culmination of their reacquaintance more meaningful. He had looked at her, and his eyes had trailed over her lips, and all her inhibitions about what a good girl was supposed to never do had gone in flame, as she had pressed their lips together, while offering herself in his embrace.

She remembered everything, to the first time his lips touched her nipple and her hips almost bucked from under him. She remembered the thrill that had run down his spine when she had reciprocated and put her mouth over the bud. Nothing was blurry, it felt like it had been yesterday: the way he had torn her shirt, and she had gone for his pants, their fumbling on the ground, trying to prevent leaves from getting everywhere, the way it had been perfect because it had not been smooth… It had been real and magical.

It had been soul binding, both of them entering a relationship, for life, and knowing they were doing so as he tried to make a bed with the remains of her shirt, while she roamed her fingers over his whole figure, claiming him as hers, forever and always.

She coughed, thinking it was a weird reaction to being shot in the leg. Her fever had to be responsible for this body reaction. Her body was covered in sweat, and she could not mistake this symptom.

She pried her eyes open, trying to hold on to the bliss of knowing she had been loved, as she took in her surroundings.

She had fallen near the river; and the ground was rough against her skin.

Her baby was kicking and moving, as if trying to infuse its mother with the will to live.

She did not need such enticement; she did not want to die. She may not have a choice though…

She tried to raise the top half of her body into a seating position against some rocks, but each dug into her skin, and she was not into pain.

She wiggled painfully until she got where she wanted and was able to look at her injured leg.

She looked at the sky, dreadful on of the night looking like it was about to set in.

How long had she been moving? Half a day maybe… At first adrenaline had allowed her to move away from the Greene farm, but it had faded soon after, and that was when she left the woods and ended on the river.

The fever was a surprise though, because of how quickly it had set. She guessed her immune system had to be weakened by the pregnancy, though she would never begrudge her babe for anything…

Sophia… She hoped her baby was alright. Her father would be showing up soon, freeing her, and Merle from Shane's rule.

Carol closed her eyes as she prayed to whoever was listening. Daryl had to be alive, he just had to. He could not have come such a long way to be taken out by Shane's stupid crew.

When he would dodge the attempt on his life, he would be able to go back and get reunited with his daughter.

In a way, Carol thought, that was all that mattered.

You could not be greedy when it came to miracles, and Daryl being reunited with his daughter was all she was asking for.

She woke up, or more likely, came to after fainting, and saw the sun on the horizon. She needed to find a place before night would set. Otherwise, she would be as good as toast, and she owed it to her family to try her best not to let them.

Michonne approached stealthily one of the big houses, searching for people, for something to let her know she was in the right place. She used the shadows to her advantage as she cleared one empty house after another. Only one was left, the one with the big barn not too far away from it.

She felt a chill in her spine and would have sworn she could taste the tension in the air. Something was going on there, she just knew it.

Hidden, she took out her binoculars, and looked for signs of life.

Those were easy to spot once you had settled down. Three men were carrying weapons as they walked the perimeter of the big house. They looked to be both weary of what was outside the estate, but also of what was on it.

Prisoners, Michonne thought. This had to be the right house. The dying thug had mentioned they would be taking control of the house by force.

She remained well hidden, and got closer, and closer, using trees, shelters, high grass, anything really to keep herself unseen, until she was close enough to the house to see more.

About half a mile from the house, the remains of a weird camping site could be seen. There were several tools and devices tending to show that the camp had been an extension of the house, a place where extra people had stayed, while spending their day in the house.

She got closer to the building, but everything was quiet in it. She managed to get a look through a window, using a mirror to hide herself.

Some people were tied, others were not. Shock seemed to be the prevalent feeling shared by all. The grunt of them were in two or three rooms, and there was a place where people were operating on a man. A young girl was standing by his side as grownups worked on keeping him alive, and Michonne knew in her gut she was finally meeting Sophia.

She looked so much like her father, in the way she held herself, the way she was aware of everything that was going done at every moment. She was every bit a hunter as her father was.

Michonne wiped a tear before gathering more information over how people were being held, looking at the sun and preparing to go back.

Daryl kept himself close to the ground, as he followed the blood trail. He knew he should have gone with Michonne, but if there was another goon on the run waiting to come back later and bite them in the ass, he wanted to deal with him first.

His eyes fell on a white flower, and he couldn't help but remember Carol's homemade dress when they had pledged their love beneath the stars. Sure, they had gone to the courthouse later on to make it official, but at that moment, it had seemed so important to be with the people they loved as they linked their fates forever together.

They had been surrounded by the women from the trailer park, who had gotten so used to seeing there, even stay the night more often than not. Merle had been there. It had been deliriously funny to think that all those women would have feared him in any other situation but Carol, or Mama Carol, as the girls called her, had explained to them that her soon to be brother-in-law was a teddy bear and that they needn't fear them.

Merle had pretended to be offended, saying he didn't want anything to impair his street cred, but Carol and Daryl had known that he was just happy to be there, be trusted both by his family and their friends. He wore the war on his face, along with prison, yet he was being welcomed into a special community.

Daryl had earned the women's trust, had made a point to do so, as they were so important to his love. Having them witness their vows had not made his feel self-aware or anything along those lines. They were happy to be there and stand witness, and he was beyond thrilled at pledging his love and loyalty to such a wonderful woman. He had felt like he was marrying the queen of amazons, for those women were warriors, and had felt unworthy of such a privilege.

He remembered Carol lifting his chin, never saying a word yet her body language telling him that he was more than worthy…

If only for her, and their little amazon Sophia, he had to see this blood trail through and protect the people he loved.

He turned back to the trail, noticing how the person who had left a mark still made efforts not to leave to big a path by snapping tree branches left and right… They knew they could be followed but tried their best to make it less visible.

He lost the trail until he noticed a grove where a splash of blood could be seen. He went there and jumped on the side of the river, where the blood became more and more sporadic, the water washing it away.

He would have given up, if not for feeling in his gut. At one point, there was nothing to follow up on, the person bleeding had managed to disappear. He followed the river, past a couple of other groves, until a few feet in front of him, he spotted a figure on the floor, and a walker trying to get to it.

"Carol!" He heard himself scream, but the body never moved.

He ran, as fast as he could, his knife in his hand, trying to reach the walker before it reached its target.

He would have failed too, when at the very last moment, when the dead man was hunching down, out of nowhere, the person on the floor threw their leg and hit its gut, sending him back into Daryl's deadly embrace.

He stabbed the walker in the head and fell to his knees as he finally met his wife oh so tired gaze:

"Hello weirdo," she muttered before fainting.

Lori and Hershel managed to stabilize Merle without using too much medicine, as Shane had told them that they were not to do more than extract the bullet.

"I'll feed him to your precious barn occupants," he had told Hershel.

"He'll make it through the night,' the old man said, and Lori felt torn for Sophia who has stood vigil by her uncle side.

The girl had to be terrified, having seen her mother get dunned down as she ran away. Hell, Carol and Merle were bare acquaintances, but Lori felt like she needed to cry for a whole fortnight after witnessing the events of the last couple of days. How could a twelve-year-old deal with all of this?

The sandy haired girl came close to her uncle, and kissed his brow.

"You sleep, Pop, I'll watch over you. I will not let Shane touch you."

Lori's heart shattered to a million little piece.

She used to think that the girl was lethal, that her family was particular, that they all had serial killer genes they seemed to be keeping in check, but at the heard of it, when all was stripped of shiny weapons, and weird dynamics, they were just … a family, a loving one too. Carol had delighted the women at camp with stories of how she had met her husband and how they had reconnected years later, chaste version of course as her daughter could hear her, and if there was one thing driving the Dixons, it had to be love. And faith. They all had complete faith in Daryl's ability to get back to them. They had faith in their ability to bring a new baby into this desolated world and love it.

Lori felt like she had always seen it but she was only now able to put down words to describe what she had witnessed.

Hell, she would never complain about Carl being in love with Sophia. The preteen was mature beyond her years, and had such a good soul, imparted by the grownups filled with love who had brought her up.

She wanted to say something, but she saw a flash of something. She started to speak again when it happened again, almost blinding her left eye.

Sophia was too busy with her uncle to notice so Lori moved to the window, hoping to clear up this mystery.

She never expected for a woman to be there, slouched so that you could not see her below the window unless you were specifically looking for her.

Lori looked around, and saw that Randall was busy trying to sweet talk Maggie, and thus neglecting his guard duty in this room. She moved quickly to the window, and only slightly cracked It open, not wanting to bring attention to the woman who was… sporting a katana?

"Do not move," the woman warned, and both Hershel and Sophia seemed to notice what was happening there.

"From what I could gather, you have a tyrant and some followers being dickheads to you. I know who you are, Sophia, your father saved my life. Where is your ma?"

"She was forced to leave Sophia, and Shane shot her before she could disappear," Lori whispered.

The look the woman gave her just confirmed for Lori that the situation was beyond insane.

"He shot a pregnant woman? Jesus… We'll find your ma, Sophia, and make our way to you all. I can't say when, but we will. Your uncle though, he cannot awaken from his operation, I heard the tyrant brag about how he would kill him."

"I can tell Pop to play possum, he'll listen to me," Sophia replied softly, with a glint in her eye saying she would gladly die to protect her old man.

"Good girl, you're as smart as your daddy said you'd be…"

Lori gathered that the woman was called Michonne, and would be back. She left behind two knives, saying they should not carry them if they would not properly hide them, but that she could not leave them defenceless.

And then, she was gone.

When he arrived upon the clearing where they had parted ways before, Daryl felt relief upon spotting Michonne. She jumped to her feel when she saw him arriving with his wife in his arms.

Without a word, his friend helped him settle Carol down, and look at her wound.

"It went through, without touching any major vessels, but the wound needs to be cleaned."

She agreed, but there was nothing they could do. No poultice would help her, she needed real help.

She needed to be operated on so that the wound would get cleaned, and medication taken if necessary.

Daryl held Carol to his chest the whole time, refusing to let her go. She was still burning up, coming in and out consciousness, only saying a few words here and there.

Michonne never tried to sort through his feelings… Fear for her life would already be devastating, but if you paired them with terror or having found her for her not to know it or worse…

"The kid is moving," she said, upon spotting some wave made by the baby.

The hunter nodded, as he put his hand on his wife's stomach.

"I saw Sophia," Michonne said, and Daryl's eyes darted to her.

"She's doing good, or as good as can be expected, considering she saw Shane shoot her mom. Carol was forced to run because the tyrant shot Merle in order to get her moving, threatening to finish him or kill Sophia…"

He closed his eyes, his arms full of Carol, and said:

"I will kill this man for what he is doing to my family."

"Sophia looks just like you."

"She's her mother's portrait," he said, seemingly blushing yet obviously proud of his kid.

"She looks like you," someone replied, and they both lowered their gaze to meet Carol's eyes.

She could tell Daryl wanted to kiss her and hug her and never let her go, but her leg hurt so damn much, she had to close her eyes briefly.

"I love you," she told him, unsure when she would get another chance to say it.

"I love you too."

"How are we saving the group?" She asked, wanting to make the most of the time when she was conscious.

"I only saw 3 men and the tyrant," Michonne said.

"Sounds about right. They were more people but they were sent after you. I know you sent them back to hell, you've come too close to let three stupid boys keep you away from us…"

"Damn right I did."

"So three of them, and the tyrant?"

"And a barn full of walkers. I know Shane wants to kill them all, but he's also using them as leverage to keep the Greenes obedient."

She explained how the family had stored for lack of a better term their loved ones and how she has promised to put them down one by one in love for them to be buried.

And before she could hear their plan, she fainted again.

Shane was looking at all the people in the living room. They considered themselves captives, and some were, like Rick. He would be one of the first to die in a freak accident.

He was not stupid, he knew that the men who had joined him would want their fair share of pussies, and it had been the object of long negotiations to obtain to keep Lori and Andrea for himself. He did not care for the Greene girls. Sophia was just a gift for Patrick.

Those bitches, all of them, and Carol being the biggest one of them had thought they could overpower him and bring on some kind of matriarchy, forcing him to forego his plan for the barn.

Well, now they knew. They were helpless, just pawns. They would serve their purpose, and their submission to Randall and the others would be the key to bringing the men to their knees. Hershel's spirit would be broken down once his daughters were just sex toys. Glenn would never have the set of balls necessary to reclaim his woman. He had used all his huevos capital when Maggie had smashed those eggs on his head.

Dale would be brought to his knew by Andrea becoming his. T-Dog would fall in line or suffer the consequences.

To think when the day had started, the women ruled the farm…. Luckily, things had gone back to their more natural order.

"Help, please help, open the door!" He heard.

He gestured to Randall and Patrick to get in position to protect their hold.

He opened the door and saw a black woman trying to run toward the house, with a limp form in her arms.

He recognized Carol's lifeless form and could not hide a smirk.

'Don't come any closer!" He yelled as he threatened her with his riffle. "You're not welcome here!"

"Please, I found this woman not far from here, she was waying she needed to come back here, to tell… Rain or Shane that he had won, and then she fainted… She has to be one of your people, no?"

"And how did I win?" Shane asked, feeling a stirring in his loin thinking about his complete domination.

"Please let me in, she's bleeding so much!"

He gestured for his goons to go and walk the woman in, feeling like he could find a place for Carol in his great scheme, as long as they killed her baby when it was born. He had never fucked a pregnant woman, who was he to turn down the opportunity?

He heard a sound, then screams as his world fell apart.

Two arrows gunned down Randall and Patrick, and the woman ran inside, with Carol in her arms. He could see the man with the crossbow running toward him, with fury in his eyes.

No no no no no no no no no…

He saw the men in the house start to feel like there was any other way but his, and he needed to act fast.

He grabbed Sophia, prompting screams from all the women, making the new man lower his crossbow. This had to be Carol's long lost husband. When he would be done with him, he would be long lost and dead.

He pointed his gun to Sophia's temple and crapped his arm around her throat, making her choke.

"Watcha you're gonna do big boys, uh?" He asked.

"Bury your body," the teenager choked out.

He pressed harder against her trachea but felt like he got shut in the gut.

He pushed the girl to the floor, noticing the knife in her hand, covered in blood.

He looked down at his body and saw that she had stabbed him in the balls.

He went to grip his injured pride when the little thing sprang back to her feet and said:

"This is for Pa, Ma and Pop, you asshole!"

And she jumped at him with her hand armed.

Sophia hit him in the eye, with all the strength her fury had given her.

There was a rush amongst the group, liberating those held captive, and rushing Carol into the operating space.

Sophia ran to her father and hugged him for dear life.

He kissed her hair, lifting her in his arms.

There would be time for processing everything. Right the, she just wanted her daddy.

A couple of days later

"Andrea, will you stop trying to force feed me peas? I'm injured, not 2 years old," Merle said, trying to avoid the spoon the blonde was shoving his way.

"You wanted me, Big Daddy, now you've got to live up to what you offered," the blonde said, with laughter in her eyes.

"Big Daddy?" Merle repeated, dumbfounded.

Which allowed the lawyer to serve him with one spoonful of peas in his throat.

As he choked but had no choice to swallow, he watched his brother and his wife try to listen to the baby's heartbeat with Hershel's stethoscope.

Andrea went away to refill her plate of disgusting food, and Sophia came in the room.

"Tell me again how you stabbed Shane in the balls…"

"Sure thing Pop," the preteen said.

And she gladly obliged.

Thank you for R&R!