Thank you to anyone still with me at this point!

I hope you enjoy the Daryl/Tahlia bits in this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing them.

Chapter 15 - Guns

After having some time to mull over how things went down after the mess in the tombs, Daryl realised that he had been so furious with Tahlia because he'd been worried for her safety – particularly because she clearly had very little regard for it herself - and he was starting to feel a little guilty for shouting at her. He wasn't going to apologise because he still thought that she was stupid to put her life on the line for a dead man, but he was quietly impressed by her selfless bravery and wanted to offer her an olive branch of sorts, so he went off to find her.

Tahlia was down by the pigpen trying to fix a broken piece of plywood back to the top of the enclosure while she chatted away to Butter who was prancing around at her feet.

"Hey." Daryl approached, causing her to jump and drop the nail that was in her hand.

"Dammit." she muttered as she searched for the nail in the grass, then glanced over her shoulder. "Hey!"

"Uh..." Daryl shifted awkwardly as he stood behind her, watching as she supported the plank with one hand and felt around for the nail with the other. "Here. Lemme." He grabbed the wood and held it in place for her.

She smiled gratefully, and soon found what she was looking for. "Ah-ha!" she declared, pleased, holding the nail aloft. Positioning it against the wood, she started to hammer.

Daryl took a deep breath. "Was thinkin' bout what ya said the other day before we went into the tombs."

"Oh yeah? What was that?" asked Tahlia distractedly.

"'Bout not knowin' how to use a gun." Daryl frowned as she ham-handedly tried to hammer the nail in. "Gimme that. Ya bendin' it!"

"I can do it!" she protested, but allowed him to take the implements from her and swapped positions, inwardly grinning at his blatant exasperation over her technique.

"Gotta line it up. Can't just go smackin' at it any which way." scolded Daryl as he knelt down and expertly drove the nail into the wood, holding his hand out for the others.

Tahlia chuckled as she handed them over. "Yes sir."

"Anyway. Thinkin' that I could show ya. Around the guns. Just the basics so least ya got an idea how to use one if ya need to."

Tahlia hitched a shoulder. "Uh, I'm ok not knowing. Happy with blades."

Finishing up the task, Daryl stood up and faced her, narrowing his eyes. "Best if ya learn. Don't wanna be in a situation where ya can't protect someone else just coz ya can't use one."

She dropped her gaze. "Right." she said. "You're right."

He knew that the idea of endangering someone would get her, so he tried to follow up with a little softness. "Thought I'd show ya round the ones we got. Don't have the ammo for you to practice, but least if ya know how to load and all that then it's better than nothin'. Know you're a good aim anyway coz I seen ya throw knives."

Tahlia gazed at him for a long moment. Every fibre in her being wanted to give a definite thanks-but-no-thanks to his offer, but she could see it for what it really was – a peace offering. And she was certain that this was not the kind of thing he did on a whim, and that coming to see her today had probably not been easy for him. So, as strongly as she felt about not wanting to handle guns, she felt surprisingly stronger about staying in Daryl's good books, making headway with him. Not to mention that she was incredibly touched that he was actually attempting to make an effort with her – this was definitely progress.

"Oh, ok then, thanks, that's... kind of you."

Daryl nodded, satisfied. "Ya nearly done here?"

She looked stricken at the suggestion of doing it so soon, but swallowed hard and nodded. "Nearly."

"Meet ya at the admin block."

"Right then." she said resignedly, then remembered her manners. "Thanks for your help just now! I mean, obviously I could have done it without you, but..." she grinned.

He let out a short laugh. "Y'always wanna believe you can do stuff without me. Turns out ya need me more than ya think. See ya in a bit."

Tahlia watched him walk away, the warmth she felt from the interaction with him quickly cooling as apprehension shot an icy track through her veins. She knew she'd have to pick up a gun sooner or later, but this felt much sooner than she'd like. But there was something about the fact that he would be there with her, about the strength and surety that radiated from him, that gave her the confidence to try.

Daryl knew that he had a little bit of time before Tahlia came to meet him, and spent some of it agonising over the other olive branch he had in mind, uncertain if he were bold enough to go through with it. Eventually, he forced himself to just stop thinking about it and grabbed his pack, striding straight to her cell before he could change his mind.

By the time Tahlia made it to the admin block, Daryl had laid a selection of firearms out on the metal table and was smoking by the door, waiting for her.

"Alright." He offered her his cigarette, but she gave a terse shake of her head as her eyes searched the room beyond. With a shrug, Daryl stubbed his cigarette out and motioned for her to follow him inside.

She glanced dubiously at the table before sitting down. "Can we start with the big ones?"

Daryl eyed her up curiously. There was something up with her. She was definitely on edge. There was none of the usual glib chat or light jokes and smiles, instead just nervous tension rolling off her.

"Sure. Got a couple rifles here. This one's bolt action. Push this forward, pull the trigger, then pull the bolt back to release the cartridge. Problem with this is it's slow to fire. Don't wanna be under pressure holdin' one of these. Accurate though." He passed Tahlia the gun, letting her handle the weapon and get a feel for it, pointing out the different parts once it was in her hands.

"These here are the semi-automatics. Pull the trigger then the next round loads automatically. Release the magazine like this when you're out. You try."

She nodded, carefully inspecting the weapon before holding it up and aiming, barely aware of how close Daryl was sitting to her.

"Pump action shotgun. Pump that to chamber a round. Yep, hold it up like that." Daryl pushed the shotgun up a little in her arms, keeping a watchful eye on her, her continued uneasiness blatantly apparent.

She was listening to what he told her, but was barely interacting other than to accept the weapons he handed to her and follow any instructions he gave. It also wasn't lost on him that she kept shooting nervous glances at the handguns at the other end of the table. There was definitely something bothering her.

When they had finished with the larger weapons, he moved them aside and swept the handguns into the space in front of them.

"Glock. Release the magazine like this. Click it back in like that. Safety. Pull the slide back to chamber a round." He held it out for her to see, although he noticed that she wasn't really paying attention to the gun in his hand, but seemed to be focused on the silver revolver lying just in front of her.

"Ya wanna look at that one?" he asked, although she hadn't said a word. "That's Rick's Python." He flicked the empty cylinder open and spun it around, then pushed the gun into her hand. "Here. And here's a bullet. Throw it in, close it up, just for practice."

He was close enough to notice her breathing had shallowed and a light sheen of sweat glistened across her chest, and he shot a questioning glance at her. She made no move to take the proffered bullet, so he dropped it in a chamber for her. "Now close that, hold it up, see how it feels."

Tahlia stared down at the gun, one bullet in the open cylinder, and her hands started trembling uncontrollably, so much so, she nearly dropped the weapon.

"S'alright! Ain't like it's gonna go off or nothin'." Daryl's warm hands closed around her own, clicking the cylinder into place. "Hammer's forward."

Everything faded for a moment, her vision tunneled in, then out, and she ripped her hands from his, leaving the gun with him as she leapt up from her chair and stumbled backwards, a panicked look crackling across her face.

"Whoa!" In a flash, Daryl had dropped the gun on the table and jumped to her side, one hand grabbing her shoulder to stabilise her, the other tucking around her waist, worried that she was about to faint. "Girl?" his voice low, concerned, as he studied her face. "What's goin' on?"

Pressing the back of her hand to her mouth, she shook her head, still staring in terror at the weapon on the table.

Something sparked inside him at seeing her terrified vulnerability, and acting on instinct, he dragged her against his chest, wrapping his arms tightly around her.

"S'ok. Ain't gonna let nothin' happen to ya." he murmured into her hair, surprised at how good it felt to hold her - a small part of him reveling in the fact that this normally self-assured, unflappable girl was trembling like a leaf in his arms, feeling soft and fragile and small and he was the one keeping her together.

After a long moment, he felt her breathing return to normal, and gently, he released her.

"Y'afraid of guns?" he asked, one hand still curled around her bicep. "Why didn't ya say somethin' at the start?"

Finally, she met his gaze, surprised at the depth of tenderness and concern she found waiting for her there, and the unexpectedness of that only served to unnerve her even more. "Uh... I'm just gonna go and get some air." she muttered, forcing an empty smile as she tugged her arm from his grip and hurried from the room.

He nodded, and watched her go, wondering what secret box of fear he'd inadvertently opened, all the more curious about her.

Outside, Tahlia was glad to be in the fresh air and sucked in a big lungful before leaning forward to rest her hands on her knees. Although, if she had a choice, she'd rather be back in there, in Daryl's arms again. Pressed up against his solid chest as he held her tight, it was easy to believe what he'd said, that he wouldn't let anything happen to her. Easy to believe that nothing could harm her again while she was with him.

But she wasn't in there with him, she was out here, alone, and unwanted memories were flashing wildly like a cinematic reel inside her head, causing her breathing to sharpen and shallow and a slow strangle of panic to rise steadily in her chest.

For a terrifying moment there was no air and she was choking, suffocating, but she forced herself to stop stop stop! To concentrate on one thing – her feet on the ground, the earth solid beneath her, then methodically moved up her body, concentrating on each part, drawing long slow breaths in as she did so. Eventually she managed to regain a calm control of herself again, and squeezed her eyes shut tight, pushing the memories down and away and back to where they should be – locked up tight.

When she finally opened her eyes, she gave herself a quick shake and drew a hand over her face.

Stupid.

She really should have seen that coming. But she was ok, she was ok.

She was going to need to work on getting comfortable with guns – but in the future, maybe she'd try it just one at a time. In the meantime, she needed to throw herself into a task for the afternoon to keep her busy, surround herself with others who'd chatter away and keep her out of her head for a little while, so she quickly strode down to the washing troughs.

"Oh, sun's going down already! Come on, let's head up to the courtyard." Carol suggested, lifting a basket and propping it on her hip.

Tahlia followed her until they neared the buildings. "Just gonna go change my top. This one's soaked. See you out there."

Jogging all the way to her cell, she definitely felt better after spending a few hours around some of the women at the troughs, chatting and laughing and lightening up enough that she was able to remind herself that the past was in the past, far, far behind her, and she would not be swallowed by it, she was moving forward.

Once at her cell, she whipped her wet t-shirt off before she'd even made it through the door. She made for the top bunk where she kept her clothes, then stopped, slowly turning back around. There, above the desk, stuck to the rough concrete wall, were two beautiful hand drawn pictures.

With a delighted gasp, Tahlia moved closer, her fingers pressed to her lips.

One, an amazingly accurate pencil sketch of Butter, her favourite little goat; and the other, a striking picture of the back of a shadowy grey pencil-sketched woman sitting cross legged, upturned palms open on her knees, facing a beautiful orange and red hued sunrise beyond chain-link fences.

He'd drawn her.

That in itself was beautiful to Tahlia, that Daryl had actually taken the time to observe the usual scene of how she spent her mornings, and then put the effort into translating that to paper. But even more poignant was the fact that he'd shared these with her at all. By the agitated way he'd snatched up his drawings down by the maple tree that time, she could tell that they were something he normally kept fiercely private, and that it would have taken a hell of a lot for him to give her these.

Standing for a long moment, staring, unblinking, Tahlia almost felt like she could cry. She'd been on an emotional rollercoaster today – him privy to the worst part - so having him also do this for her nearly pushed her over the edge. Now she could understand why people raved about him so much. It was clear that he was always genuine and never did anything that he didn't want to do – so being on the receiving end of something so incredible and thoughtful from him held even more weight. There was definitely something magnetic about him and she could feel herself being dragged closer and closer, helpless to stop herself, unable to stay away from him.

Finally, she donned a fresh t-shirt and took a deep breath and pulled herself together and headed to the courtyard, her social persona clicking into gear as she smiled and chatted her way through to the fire. The new guy, Brody, had ended up next to her on the bench again. She wasn't sure how that kept happening, but he was lovely and charming and easy to talk to, so she didn't mind too much. Although, she was struggling to keep her attention on what Brody was saying because, out of the corner of her eye, she could see Daryl by the far wall, sitting in a cloud of smoke, casually leaning back against the concrete, looking effortlessly cool as always, causing her heart to bang around like a pinball in her chest.

She had to speak to him.

Obviously a huge thank-you was in order for the drawings, but also, she was not one to ever leave anything unsaid, any issue unresolved, so she knew that there'd have to be an explanation offered for her behaviour that afternoon. She just had to work up the courage to-

"Brody, honey, did you know that Sasha here spent a summer up in Montreal? Just like you did!" Tahlia decided to just get on with it and grabbed Sasha's arm on the other side of her, and pulled her into the conversation. "Sash, tell him! Excuse me, just gotta grab some water."

And with that, Tahlia was up, extricating herself from that discussion, and heading straight towards Daryl, who, as soon as he saw her approaching, didn't let his steely gaze waver from her for a second.

"Hey." she said softly, sitting down next to him. "So... art smarts, huh?"

Immediately, Daryl ducked his head bashfully as he started worrying his thumbnail with his forefinger.

She carried on in a tone low and heartfelt. "I know how much it must have taken for you to share those drawings with me, so I want to say that I really appreciate it, more than I can even express. So, thank you. They are just so beautiful, and I know I've said it before, but you really are so damned talented." She bumped against his shoulder lightly with her own, and although he still wasn't able to speak or even look at her yet, he nudged her back with his elbow in acknowledgement.

Then she sighed. "And... thank you for taking the time to show me the guns today. It was a really nice idea, really helpful actually."

With that transition into a different topic, Daryl's shyness quickly faded, and he turned his head to look at her, waiting for an explanation, but it never came.

He wasn't going to let her away that easy.

"What was that at the end?"

"Oh." she shrugged. "Yeah, sorry about that. Seems that I'm ok with the big guns, but the handguns are clearly triggering." She gave a little ironic laugh at her pun.

Not sharing in her attempt at a joke, he surveyed her through narrowed eyes. "What was it really?"

"Hmm, I'm not sure, maybe I was just..." she trailed off, and raised her gaze skyward for a moment.

Daryl pursed his lips and waited for the bullshit story to come, his respect for her dwindling with the anticipation of a lie.

Dropping her gaze back to his, she sucked the side of her bottom lip in and out her mouth, and Daryl could almost see the cogs turning in her head as she weighed everything up, wondering what to tell him.

He saw her decision as soon as she made it - that she wouldn't, or perhaps couldn't, lie to him, and that took him by surprise.

She sighed again. "Unexpected, is what it was." she told him, choosing her words carefully. "I knew that it wouldn't be easy around the guns. I didn't realise I'd react like that, but... now I know. I'll be better prepared next time. I'll keep practicing."

So, not a lie, as such.

He could see that she didn't want to tell him anything at all, that it took great effort for her to release that much and she'd given all she could within the boundaries of the truth. So, that was enough for him, for now.

"'Kay." he said, holding his cigarette out to her.

Tahlia smiled and accepted gratefully, taking a long draw and tipping her head back to exhale a plume of smoke into the night sky.

"Generally speaking, I'm not afraid of guns, as such. Just... just..."

"Just Rick's one, then?"

"One just like it." she uttered, so quietly that Daryl wasn't sure if he heard the words or read her lips.

Even then, he could see something dark attempting to grab hold of her as she kicked it away, trying to keep herself afloat.

Handing his cigarette back to him, she stood, brushing her pants quickly with her hands, giving a small exhale and drawing a smile on her face.

"Ok. Well, I'll leave you to it. Thanks again."

Then she hitched a brow and hitched a shoulder and said with hopeful suggestion and a twinkle in her eye, "Wanna hug it out?"

"Naw." he said, quickly, definitively, taking one last drag of his cigarette before stamping it out.

Tahlia gave a small chuckle and shrugged. "Meh. Worth a try."

"But..." he started softly, evenly, holding her gaze and not letting go. "But I will, if that's what ya need."

Something bright flashed across her eyes removing all traces of amusement, and her expression was sad and soft and wondrous all at once, and when she spoke it was with quiet sincerity. "Yeah. Please."

So, Daryl made a show of standing up and rolling his eyes and heaving a sigh and pursing his lips like she was a huge inconvenience (although she was anything but), and then he beckoned to her with two fingers.

A movement so quick she almost missed it.

She was only one step away from him, so she moved in and slowly slipped her arms around his waist and rested her cheek against his solid chest, melting into him already, that surging feeling of safety and warmth and grounding washing over her, nearly washing her away, as tears stung the back of her eyes.

He didn't move at first, then slowly lifted his arms to encircle her shoulders, lightly to begin, then tightening and tightening until there was no room for even a breath between them, and he wondered if maybe he might have needed this a little too.

And although it was only for a brief moment, there they stood, hearts thudding as one in their chests, but also not at all.

Later, while on watch, Daryl pulled his sketch pad out of his bag and flicked through the first few pages of drawings thinking about what he'd done, how he'd stuck those pictures in her cell, how he'd very nearly lost his nerve and ran back to tear them down before she saw them.

That picture of her had been one of his favourites.

Her, sitting there at the foot of the world in a moment of peace in this upside-down existence.

And now she knew that he noticed her. Paid attention to her.

And to top it off, she had been in his arms not once, but twice today.

Like, really in his arms.

And it felt like maybe she had needed him a little; maybe he had provided her with some comfort; as if he could be something for her.

He wasn't sure when everything had been turned around. The last time he'd checked, he was not a fan of hers, but somehow, somewhere in between then and now, she seemed to have created a space for herself in his head and was making him feel a whole bunch of unnamable, unfamiliar emotions. Ones that made him feel like he was getting all soft and distracted and left him irritated and overwhelmed and warm at the same time.

It would probably be best if he kept his distance, kept well away from her for a while, just until he felt back to normal and back in control.

Gazing down at the page he had landed on, he ran his finger gently over the light pencil lines and heaved a sigh. He'd better get rid of this one. Just in case she accidentally saw this too.

There was no question that it was her, a portrait of her face, the features carefully etched, the likeness undeniable. Ripping it out of the book he flipped his Zippo open and caught the paper's edge with the flame, her smiling eyes on his until they turned to ash.