Chapter 7 - No damn popularity contest

The following day, Daryl had just returned from hunting in the woods and was grabbing a quick bite to eat in the courtyard, when he heard the sound of raised voices. Moving outside the courtyard wall, he could see that down by the old tool shed, that prick Isaiah and his lunatic wife Ruth, former members of Woodbury, were in yet another argument, getting all up in each other's faces and shouting the place down, their voices carrying on the breeze.

Damn hotheads, the both of them.

Daryl had had a few run-ins with Isaiah, since his time here. His temper ran just as flaming as Daryl's, but he was opinionated and a bit of a bully, always throwing his weight around and mouthing off. And his wife was no better, always screeching at him and picking fights, never shy to air their dirty laundry. As he watched, Ruth shoved Isaiah hard in the chest, and he gave her a one-handed push back. Shit. It was getting physical.

Daryl popped the last bite of his cracker in his mouth, and started heading down the hill towards them, preparing to put an end to their altercation. As he walked, he squinted ahead. There was a third person to the side of them, hands in the air, trying to break the two of them up. Daryl let out a sharp exhale when he saw that it was Tahlia.

What the hell was she doing there? And why was she in the middle of their fight?

Just then, Isaiah flung an arm out to the side and shoved Tahlia roughly in the chest, catching her by surprise and causing her to stumble backwards.

"Asshole!" muttered Daryl as he broke into a run.

Tahlia stepped in again, her demeanor calm and appeasing, Isaiah still shouting away. He went for her again, but this time she was ready, and nimbly ducked away from his hands, all the while, Ruth was whacking Isaiah in the arm.

"Hey!" shouted Daryl as he approached, not slowing his pace as he dived straight at Isaiah, grabbing his shirt and forcing him a few steps backwards. "Hell's goin' on?!"

"Get the hell off me!" bellowed Isaiah, shoving at Daryl, but the hunter was fierce and strong and held tight.

"You never damn well listen! You're a stupid ass mother-" came a screeching voice beside him.

"Hey!" Daryl turned his head to bark at Ruth who was trying to push around Daryl to get in Isaiah's face again. "Shut the HELL up! Y'ain't helpin' one bit!"

"Ruth! Come on." Tahlia intercepted and pushed the middle-aged woman back the other way. "Let's just take it down a notch."

"The two of ya better calm your shit down! Screamin' at each other like banshees! We got kids up there, y'know! Don't need to see you two goin' for it every damn day! Sort it out, for fuck's sake or y'ain't gonna be welcome here much longer!" Daryl threatened, giving Isaiah a shove before letting him go.

Isaiah feinted at Daryl, who stood his ground, a dark look on his face.

"Just fuckin' try it." Daryl snarled in a dangerous voice. "And if I ever see ya raisin' your hand to a girl again, I'll fuckin' end ya."

Isaiah glared at him, then swore under his breath before throwing his hands in the air, muttering to himself as he stormed off.

"Just walk away like y'always do!" Ruth screamed to her husband's retreating form, still clearly wanting to fight, and Tahlia put her hands on her shoulders.

"Maybe take some time to cool off, ok?"

"Leave 'em to it." Daryl grabbed Tahlia by the elbow and dragged her away, heading back towards the cellblocks. "The hell was that about?"

Tahlia sighed. "We were trying to fix the shed roof and they just got into a stupid argument. It escalated pretty quickly. They're really fiery!"

"Those two are always damn well goin' for it. Always have been since they walked in these fuckin' gates. And that guy's a goddamn asshole." muttered Daryl. Then he stopped and glared at Tahlia. "He went for ya! And ya stepped right back in again! That's stupid, girl. Ya shoulda just walked away! What'd ya think you could do there?"

Tahlia looked put on the spot. "I was just trying to keep the peace. That's all."

"Keepin' the peace. Damn stupid is what that is. Should know better than to stick around in a situation like that. Why were ya even with them in the first place?"

"Helping with the roof."

Daryl's lip curled in distaste. "What the hell is up with you?"

"What do you mean?"

Michonne's words about how she liked to make friends with everyone rang in his ears, and he couldn't stop himself from having a go at her about it.

"Why you spreadin' yourself around everyone? I seen you – with Rick, Hershel, Sasha, Carol, every fuckin' man and his dog in this place, including the assholes-" he jerked a thumb back at the direction they'd just come from. "- doin' what anyone wants ya to, buddying up with anyone who looks your way. What ya tryin' to prove?"

"Just trying to earn my place here."

"Bullshit. It's more than that. You're over the top tryin' to be somethin' for everyone. Why ya tryin' so hard to get people to like ya?"

Tahlia shrugged, her tone even. "I'm just being nice. Something wrong with that?"

Daryl wasn't sure why he was getting so riled up over her, it's not like it made a difference to him what she did with her time, who she was friends with, but he was raging.

"This ain't no damn popularity contest! Ain't no prizes for the person with the most buddies! That's the shit that's gonna get you killed, being all soft and not takin' care of number one. The only prize is survival, and if you wanna keep the peace all the time, you ain't gonna make it!"

Tahlia was genuinely interested at his take on the situation. "I just don't think survival and friendliness are mutually exclusive."

"Ya can't go runnin' to share stories round the campfire with every damn person ya meet! There are bad people out there who are gonna fuck you over, no questions asked. So get your guard up otherwise you ain't got long for this life." With an angry exhale, he stalked off to the vehicle bay without a backwards glance.

Tahlia puffed out her cheeks with a long sigh as she watched him go.

He really hadn't given her a damn inch since she'd been here. She could probably count on one hand the number of words he'd said to her that weren't in anger or irritation. Actually, she wasn't sure that there'd been any at all. There had definitely been a few disdainful comments along the way though. It wasn't overly surprising - their personalities seemed to be polar opposites, so naturally she rubbed him up the wrong way.

Normally, she would give someone with such an obvious dislike for her a wide berth - but it wasn't her fault that he'd chosen to drag her out of the fire twice – once down by the fences and then just now.

And annoyingly, she couldn't help but notice him everywhere she went as well. There was just something about him. Besides the fact that he was sexy as hell, of course - oh God, where did that thought come from?

Anyway.

She'd heard enough about him from the other residents – some of the old stories, like his dogged search for Sophia; being ordered by the Governor to fight his own brother to the death; and God, if she had a penny for every time she'd heard the Lil Asskicker story. But she'd also heard people singing his praises for all the day to day stuff too - especially his second to none hunting and tracking skills, his bravery, and his general amazing survival instincts.

Never once had she specifically asked about him – people just seemed to eagerly offer up all these bits (she was certain that there was a whole subset of residents nursing unrequited crushes on him) – it was like because he came across as a stand-offish bad boy, every sniff of his caring side was excitedly raved about.

She had caught glimpses of it though.

His softer side. A tenderness.

She'd seen the way he was around some of the others. Like how his guard came down when he was with Carol. And like how he was kind and patient with the elderly folk.

Eleanor, a spirited 76-year-old former member of Woodbury who hadn't let her dodgy hip slow her down, had raved about how she'd sentimentally mentioned to Daryl that she used to paint rocks for her grandchildren to hide around their local park for other kids to find. Then, a few days later, he'd brought her a bag of river stones that he'd collected out in the woods, and the two of them had spent an afternoon painting pictures on them for the prison kids.

So, yes.

Tahlia couldn't help but be intrigued by him, even though she seemed to raise his hackles just by being in the same vicinity. She wondered if she'd ever get to see a bit of that super soft, gooey chocolatey centre of his – and immediately let out a laugh as soon as that thought arose, and then wondered how quickly he'd kill her with his bare hands if she ever dared to voice it.

Right now, it seemed like it would probably be a cold day in hell before she could even get a smile out of him.