A/N: For the purposes of this story, since the whole Governor storyline doesn't exist, any characters in the Alabama camp are a hodgepodge of Woodbury and River Camp characters of the two Governor storylines. Further notes at the end of the chapter.


Somehow, Shane didn't foresee that his guardian role would continue past the reunion. To an extent, he and Carl are back to him being on favored uncle status, but it's different now, after Shane spent months as something just a little bit more than uncle. Rick doesn't seem upset by it, probably because being a single parent was never something he considered he'd have to be.

He wonders just how things will mesh if the search teams ever find Lori Grimes. He hopes she's forgiven him with time and distance, because going back to the strife of the last days at the quarry is not something he can manage.

If still having nominal guardianship over Carl is surprising, he has to admit it's not entirely surprising that Maggie seems content to leave Beth under his care. The more than eight year age gap between the sisters is a significant one, especially since Maggie's spent the last four years away at college. They simply aren't as close as they would have been if Beth had been older. He keeps track of Beth like he did when it was just him and the kids, and Maggie leaves him to it.

The situation helps Sophia not feel so completely alone, because at this point, the girl honestly doesn't expect to see her mother again. He meant what he said to Princess on her first day with them. Fatherhood never has been high on his priority list, but he's capable of making sure the girl makes it to adulthood.

They've been on the island long enough now to be settled in, and September is almost finished. Winter seems like a vague idea with north Florida's warmth, but eventually, it's coming. He hopes their missing people have found somewhere safe to hole up, if they aren't found by then.

"Guess I don't have to ask if there's any news," Shane drawls when Rick steps out onto the back deck. He's just enjoying the sun himself, clad only in swim shorts, since Princess is out in the water with the kids. Even after this much time, the young woman still wears a full wetsuit to swim and snorkel.

Rick's expression isn't as grim as it was in the first few weeks, becoming more resigned as each time a search team returns with no news. He sighs and sits down at the patio table, rolling his shoulders a bit. "Merle says the Commander would let me go out on a search team, if I wanted to go."

Shane sits up straight, dropping his bare feet to the deck so he can look at Rick. "Is that what you want to do?"

Initially, Shane refused a similar offer because he was sole guardian of the kids. He renewed the refusal after Rick and Maggie arrived, because he isn't pawning Sophia off on anyone else. Rick hasn't shown any real inclination, happily joining the on-island work crews, but apparently the inaction is starting to get to his partner.

"I feel like I owe it to her to be looking."

It makes Shane feel guilty that he hasn't felt a similar debt to Lori, but as sour as things were before the farm fell, it's hard to dredge up obligation when Carl does have at least one parent present now. He doesn't think she's dead, not by any means, because the woman's a survivor at heart, maybe even more so than Shane himself.

"You talked to Carl about it?" he asks, curious as to how the boy would react.

"Yeah. We talked it over last night when you, Princess, and the girls were all playing Monopoly." Rick clears his throat. "It's a lot to ask of you, to look after him while I go out to look for her, Shane, but if anything did happen to me, you've proved he's always got a home with you."

"Ain't asking a thing I wouldn't do without you ever saying a word, brother. Carl's family." Shane's gaze goes to the kids and their attempts to dunk Princess, while the puppies yap and play in the water's edge. "Would you prefer to stay? I could do it instead."

He really doesn't want to leave Sophia, and Beth to a lesser extent, but surely Rick would look after them the same as Shane would Carl.

"I think I need to do it, Shane, but thank you for offering. I've messed a lot of things up with Lori, so I really don't want her thinking that finding her was an obligation to be delegated." Rick clears his throat, staring out over the water. "Besides, I know what happened between the two of you and how bad things were after I got to the quarry."

Shane's heart sinks somewhere around his damn feet, and he wishes Rick would look at him. Those early days of Rick's return, emotions had run so high, and the level of asshole foolishness he displayed is something he's ashamed of. Lori wasn't innocent, but he was worse.

"Rick?" His distress shows in his voice, and Rick finally turns, studying him with that steady blue gaze that's always been able to see even the darkest corners of Shane's soul. He almost asks if Lori told Rick about the CDC, but he can't. Shame coils like poison in his gut, worse than the hangover that punished him for his actions. "My head's on straight about that now, you know that, right? And it never crossed my mind, not once, before the world went to hell."

Euphemisms from them both, because neither of them want to use the stark words that Shane slept with his best friend's wife. The worst part, to Shane himself, is that he coveted her beyond Rick's return, and it took weeks of fighting to keep three teenagers safe to clear his muddled brain of the false impression he was in love with Lori. He loves her, yes, but it's no more or less than he always has because she's Carl's mother, Rick's wife, and Shane's family.

"I know that, Shane. You both thought I was dead, and the world was a nightmare like no one ever imagined." Rick sighs, letting a ghost of a smile cross his features. "I had the easy part, I think, sleeping through it all falling apart."

Relief floods through Shane, that he's not going to lose his brother. He had hoped, hell, outright prayed, that Rick would understand. There's a lot of things he's capable of surviving, but having Rick reject him is probably not actually one of them. "Well, out of the two of us, you do look more like Sleeping Beauty."

It makes Rick laugh, and his smile widens and becomes something more normal. He does look away from Shane, though, watching the kids and Princess as they start trekking back up to the house. The sun's starting to set, throwing a kaleidoscope of colors across the western sky. Princess smiles up at them, gaze holding Shane's, something that keeps happening more and more, before shuffling the kids into the spray of the outdoor shower.

"You've changed," Rick says, surprising Shane from watching the woman below as she scoops up puppies to rinse the salt water off them, too.

"How so?" It's an odd phrase, especially right off what they were discussing.

"When you first said there was a woman that pretty living in the same house, I honestly figured you saying you were sharing a room with Carl was polite fiction, you know." Before Shane can respond to that, Rick continues. "Then I realized how new she was here, but I figured it was still just a matter of time."

Shane supposes he isn't that same man Rick expected him to be. Commitment used to be nearly a phobia for him. Then the apocalypse landed him an impromptu family, and the idea of not looking after them was more horrifying than the walking dead. Now? He can't ignore the obvious issues Princess has. She's beautiful, but she doesn't need a man just for a night or two.

His lack of an answer seems to be an answer in itself for Rick, who chuckles softly. "I haven't seen you quietly pine for someone since you had that crush on Sarabeth Morris in sixth grade, you know."

It's a name even more obscure than the conversation about old girlfriends he and Rick had in the woods. Sarabeth moved away before Shane ever got up the courage to do more than stare at her across the classroom. Things had been harder then, when his mama was sick. After she died, he never waited for anything. Just saw what he wanted and went for it. Life is just too fucking short.

That makes him blink, and he turns to Rick. "She's not like the girls I used to date, Rick." Most of those didn't even qualify as dates, much less girlfriends. The better term would be fuck buddies, and after everything over the last few months, he's discovered he's too damned old for that kind of shit anymore.

Bold, sassy, and endlessly full of cheerful sunshine, Princess is as delicate as the blown glass menagerie Shane's mama collected. Once he crosses that line, he suspects there's no returning to who he is even now. It's danger and longing and promise… and he's fucking terrified.

"Maybe you should give it a try, Shane," Rick says, voice pitched low because the woman in question is literally below the deck they're sitting on. His expression holds a hint of mischief that's been missing in the tense waiting game they've been in about the others being found. "Because she looks at you the same way."

"I don't know, Rick. It's not as easy as it sounds."

The other man laughs, louder this time, but shrugs. "I know that, better than you do right now." He leans in, laying a hand around Shane's bicep, the sun glinting off his wedding band. The grip is reassuring, not an unusual gesture for Rick. "It's not like you to hesitate. Don't miss your chance."

It's then that he realizes what he should have earlier, the intensity in his brother's gaze and those words finally cluing him in. Rick is going out to look for Lori, but he doesn't think his wife is alive out there. He moves forward, wrapping a hand around the back of Rick's neck and pulling him in for a hug.

"She's alive out there, dammit. You gotta remember that and not give up." It's a whisper, but a harsh one, and Shane squeezes the back of Rick's neck lightly in emphasis. "Alive. Just like Carl."

The position is so close that he feels rather than sees Rick nod. "Just like Carl."

Footsteps on the stairs make them ease back to their original positions, but Rick's low voice adds one last thing. "Don't miss your chance, Shane."

Rick trails into the house after the kids, joining their chatter as they fill him in about their day. As they drift upstairs, Shane knows he'll tell Carl that there's still no news of his mother. He almost misses that Princess doesn't follow them, even though all four puppies do.

"You look awful tense for a man with a beach view," she says, smiling brightly at him. Her gaze skims across his exposed skin, unabashedly admiring him as she does every single time he's been outside in nothing but swim trunks. "Guess they didn't find anything again?"

"No news is good news, right?" Shane asks, needing a bit of her optimism to buoy his own.

"In my experience, yes." She leans against the deck railing, fiddling with her snorkeling gear. "It allows everyone to have hope, and hope is sure something we need right now. More than food or water or even air. All the rest doesn't mean much if there's not a reason to keep going, you know?"

She's giving him this lopsided smile that makes him want to take risks, so he stands, wondering just how she'll react if he comes closer. He's seen her avoid letting most men close, but she doesn't sidestep him in that careful way of his. Her smile only widens as he comes to a stop much too far inside her personal space to be doing anything but flirting.

"What's your reason to keep going?" he asks, curious. He knows his, and they're all inside the house behind him, but right in front of him is the fifth one, if he's as honest with himself as he should be. She spent months alone, existing and surviving when she had no motivation but what her own mind gave her. It intrigues him, how strong she must be, even under the fragility he senses anytime he gets close.

"Used to be, it was that I wouldn't be alone forever. I hoped, and eventually, it came to pass."

"And now?" He knows, knows without a doubt, that Rick is right about his attraction being returned, because her eyes sparkle as she arches a brow.

"I think you've figured it out, haven't you?"

He's taken an involuntary step forward, and they're touching now, so it's no secret anymore, now is it? The soft kiss he intends is immediately deepened when she reaches up and cups his face, fingers stroking along the sides of his head as she makes a contented noise that makes him wonder why in hell he waited to do this. His old self would have turned it toward something lustful, but he isn't that man anymore.

Instead, they exchange quiet kisses, where he can taste the salt from the sea still clinging to her skin and the remnants of mint from her chapstick. Noise in the living room behind them brings him back to reality a bit, but he just smiles down at her. "I like your kind of hope," he tells her.

Laughing, she takes his hand and leads him inside to face the curious looks of the kids and Rick's smirk that is equal parts amusement and wistful sadness.

Hope. One day, it'll kick in for Rick, too. Until then, Shane will just have enough for both of them.


When Lori and Daryl first headed for Birmingham, she didn't hold out much hope of actually finding anyone they knew. It was just a destination to pick with some sort of logic instead of just randomly jabbing a finger on the map Daryl had. Birmingham isn't as big as Atlanta, but unlike Atlanta, the place didn't get bombed or napalmed by the military.

She can't decide if it makes the abandoned city even more haunting than half destroyed buildings would, where you have an easy clue that something very awful caused its downfall. Instead, the city looks like a ghost town - at least as long as nothing stirs its real population up. It has its own destroyed refugee center on the eastern outskirts, but the thousands of walkers trapped behind military erected fences tells the story of how it fell.

Avoiding the walkers makes their search go slow, and Daryl determines early on that no one with kids would cross into the city. They make a slow circuit of Birmingham, carefully mapping out areas to see if any of the suburbs show signs of actual human residents. It takes them two weeks, and Daryl gets captured inadvertently, to find what they're looking for.

Lori doesn't find out if she could pull the trigger that day, because one of the men spots her in the treeline of the house Daryl was inspecting. Where the men are angry and hostile toward a man all alone, they relax when he's part of a couple. It's even more pronounced when they realize she's pregnant.

They're led to an RV park nestled along a river, where it's been fenced in by a patchwork welded together metal panels and abandoned large vehicles like buses. With the river at their back, it's a nice setup, supporting a community of about thirty-five people. The best news is being introduced to Dr. Stevens, who converted the RV park's old office into a small infirmary for the camp's use.

The second best is finding out that the Morales family made it safely to the Birmingham area. Although their family didn't make it, aside from a teenage nephew, at least Lori can see that Eliza and Louis are safe. It's also nice to be friends with Miranda again, and she missed the drama and stress of the CDC and Hershel's farm. Lori's ashamed enough of her behavior to not want extra reminders.

"How did your ultrasound go with Dr. Stevens?" Miranda asks, bending to take another wet shirt from her laundry basket. Their setup here is more permanent than the quarry had been, with someone rigging up a hand pump and piping that brings river water up and filters it a bit before going into big outdoor sinks to scrub clothing in.

Lori pauses in dunking Daryl's jeans, wiping at her face, and readjusting her shoulder holster. It may be late September, but it's still the South, so it's summer hot despite the breeze off the river. "Good. She says the baby is growing just fine."

The infirmary hadn't had an ultrasound machine before Lori and Daryl's arrival, but he'd gone with some of the others to raid a birthing clinic in Birmingham for all the supplies the doctor wanted. They don't run electricity to the RVs, saving the generator for the infirmary, the big freezers in the old restaurant, and the water well, but Lori's grateful they have this much.

What she doesn't volunteer to Miranda is that she's too far along for the baby to be Rick's, which is honestly what she suspected anyway. The woman probably knows she and Shane were sleeping together at the quarry, but Miranda's too sweet natured to bring it up. She's eighteen weeks pregnant now, and it still astounds her that she lost one child only to be given another. Carl would have adored being a big brother, she thinks, and the thought doesn't hold the intense pain it did when she first suspected she was pregnant.

"That will be one spoiled baby, you know," Miranda remarks, her smile a little sly as she glances at Lori.

"Why do you say that?" Lori knows she'll have a hard time not spoiling the baby, and she prays the camp stays safe as it seems to be. The walls have held and repelled even good sized herds when they drift out of Birmingham, so she's hopeful.

"Because even if your grumpy redneck doesn't find your husband, he's already appointed himself that baby's guardian angel, you know."

Lori swallows hard and nods. It's not just the baby's guardian angel, because Daryl's got this quiet way of noticing things that Lori herself needs and just making sure they appear, like maternity clothes. Even this continued search across the border into Georgia is part of it. He's gone on his fourth trip now, leaving clues at places along the border, since he figures at some point, Rick has to wander far enough west to find them. Since he always brings back wild game of some sort, the camp leader encourages him.

She suspects that if not for the baby, he probably would stay on the road for longer periods. He's still looking for Merle, after all, but there's even fewer signs of the older Dixon than there is of Rick. Shane is never mentioned, not after Daryl admitted he doesn't think the other deputy or Beth survived the herd that took Carl and Sophia. For all that Shane and Daryl didn't get along, the redneck thinks there would have been a sign of him before that fire.

"Yeah, I guess he has." The idea of gruff, often crude, Daryl with a baby is endearing in a way she probably shouldn't consider. They share an RV, because even with people they know vouching for the camp leadership, Daryl balked at the idea of venturing very far. Even the trips worry him, because on two of them, he's been caught out overnight even with the motorcycle.

Miranda just laughs, taking the wrung out jeans from Lori and hanging them up on the line Lori's using for hers and Daryl's clothes. "Uncle like that is a valuable resource in this world, isn't he?"

Lori nods, reaching for the last item in her dirty clothes basket. Daryl's taught her, even taking her out since they've come to this camp, but there's still so much to learn. Vague memories of similar activities with her father, when he was alive, just aren't enough after so many years of pretending she didn't come from the background she did.

As if gossiping about him summons the man in question, Lori hears the unmistakable sound of the Triumph. The gate's half a mile away from where they're doing laundry, but none of the other engines sound like the motorcycle.

Miranda shoos her away from the laundry sink. "I can wash a single shirt for you. Go see if he's brought any news."

Thanking the other woman for her kindness, Lori dries her hands and treks over to the place where they clean wild game and any fish caught from the river. Daryl's parked the bike, and from the looks of it, he brought back a deer this time. Everyone in camp will be happy tonight.

Daryl meets her gaze when he's helped Martinez hang the deer to finish the field dressing job he did, and she doesn't need any words to confirm that today's trip was unsuccessful in the larger goal. Martinez sees their shared disappointment and clears his throat.

The Latino man is camp leader in much the way Shane became leader at the quarry. No one else really wants the responsibility, and he was in the military for single enlistment before he used his GI Bill to become a teacher and sports coach. It's as much qualification as any, although if any really big decisions come up, he tends to consult others, like Dr. Stevens.

"Got plenty of helpers to butcher the deer, Dixon. Why don't you go get cleaned up? We can talk over anything you need to report in later."

Taking the offer, Daryl takes the time to rinse off the motorcycle where he had the deer tied behind him like it was a creepy sort of passenger. Drying the seat, he pats it for Lori to ease astride. It makes the ride back to their particular RV pass quickly, although she's always amused when he lets her drive while he sits behind her.

Daryl's first question once he's out of the tiny shower is similar to Miranda's. "Did Dr. Stevens get the ultrasound done?"

His intent expression makes her smile, and she nods. She'd offered for him to come with her, but he'd gotten flustered and said it wasn't his place. Reaching for the paperback where she tucked the ultrasound photos, she offers them to him. "She says baby's measuring for eighteen weeks already, and it's a girl."

The man's smile is actually unexpected as he looks between the two prints. "Girl sounds good. You can raise her up to be a real lil asskicker."

"We're not calling her that." Because the more she gets to know Daryl, she knows the seemingly crude or insulting nicknames are a form of affection.

His smile turns shy at the 'we'. It's easy to slip that way, because she doesn't hold Daryl's confidence in finding the others with a state the size of Georgia to search. She's confident that nothing short of death is going to split up their partnership, so 'we' is just how it is now.

"She say when the baby will be born?" he asks, voice rough and gravelly. "Never was any good at counting that out in my head."

"Around the end of February, if all goes like it should." She's already feeling the baby kick, has been for over a week now, firm movements that are unmistakably a child growing beneath her heart.

"Got a while to go still." His side glance to her slowly rounding belly is becoming more common. He's probably wondering just how big she'll get.

"Plenty of time," she agrees. Time for his search to either find Rick, Merle, or any of the others, if they're lucky. He hands her the ultrasound prints, and she tucks one back in the paperback and puts the other on the tiny fridge with a magnet.

He's yawning, a side effect of leaving out before dawn, so she nudges him. "Go take a nap back in my room. I'll wake you when they're serving up supper." She's not on supper duty today, and that'll give him an hour or so to sleep. Since he'll probably take a watch shift tonight, a nap is a good idea.

To her surprise, he doesn't argue that he can just sleep in his regular place, an upper bunk above the driver's seat in the Class C style RV. She knows it's not nearly as comfortable as the full sized bed in the back corner of their small home. He must be exhausted, because he just nods and crawls onto the bed, stretching out prone on his stomach and dropping off to sleep with the ease of a man used to snatching sleep when he can.

She takes a seat at the little dinette table, grimacing at the inept mess her scarf is in. Taking up knitting seemed like something handy for the world they live in now, but damned if it isn't one of the most frustrating things she's ever learned to do. Unravelling the poor stitches to try again, she can't help but smile when she catches sight of Daryl sleeping.

Weeks ago, when they first found themselves cut off from the others, the man never would have allowed himself to sleep in a vulnerable position around anyone. Now? She's proven herself to him enough that he trusts her to watch his back while he sleeps - and to not harm him her own self.

It's a bit of a heady feeling, earning his trust, and more importantly, keeping it. She trusts him equally by now, and he knows it, but she's not yet admitted to him that she thinks all the hope he holds out for finding the others is going to come to naught. Daryl needs that hope to keep him going, just as she needs a different sort of hope.

Lori will have a daughter, whether the child's father or stepfather are ever found, and there's a hope in such a new life that makes her think that somehow, they'll survive this nightmare world. Her, Daryl, and Lil Asskicker will be just fine.


A/N: Rather than come up with a host of OCs around the Morales family near Birmingham, I've just appropriated (as needed) any Woodbury or River Camp characters, as noted above. Few, if any, will actually have impact on the story as a whole, so expect small cameos here and there, but not much else.

I'm adding the Lori/Daryl tag and bumped the rating to M for future chapter plans. Right now, I'm still fiddling with the plot to decide if that will be before or after Judith's birth. Either way, the Alabama camp won't be found before the baby arrives, unless I drastically change my outline. While I told a reader I might give them their own story, I've decided to continue the dual POV format that has taken over in the last two chapters. Future chapters will split between Shane and Lori like this one, since those are the two storylines that seem to be perking up interest.

While this chapter focused on Shane and Rick, with a teaser for the Shane/Princess relationship, going forward, Shane's POV will focus on their pairing and how it develops from this chapter's admission of interest to actually being a couple. I want to make it a different progression from Princess's other storyline in the Grenade series.

While Daryl and Lori probably won't be found until February or so, Hershel's group will definitely be discovered prior to Christmas, so Shane will get to play guardian to the girls a while longer. We'll probably see a wee bit more of the teenybopper Carl/Beth romance for that, too. :)