GREENE FARM~DAY AFTER DARYL'S NO GOOD VERY BAD DAY

I woke up next to Daryl in an actual bed! Feeling amazed at the luxury, after all the nap I'd taken during Carl's trauma was more of the pass-out not aware type of sleep, I cuddled into Daryl's side. The side he hadn't pierced with one of his own arrows. I felt him shift under me and chuckled.

"You are the world's worst patient, Daryl Dixon." I whispered, glancing up at him. I'd managed, through sheer force of will, to get him to agree to a sponge bath after dinner. And I even convinced him to let me run back to our tent for a change of clothes for him. Now all the gunk and blood was clear from him, and I had a promise that he'd take advantage of Hershel's offer of a shower, as soon as he was given the ok.

He groaned after my statement, looking down at me with his version of a pout. Which meant he was glaring at me. "And ya can be a naggin' nurse, Jessica Grimes." He grunted, softening his irritation by kissing my forehead. "Don't know why I had to let ya clean me up last night." He muttered.

I gave him a look. "As I recall, you didn't seem to mind during that washing." I raised an eyebrow as I remembered locking the door and taking my time to be very thorough.

Daryl shrugged, but I could see him fighting a smile. "It wasn't completely horrible." He answered, looking at the lace curtains covering the windows. "Might even let ya help me in the shower, since I'm injured and all."

I laughed and crawled from the bed to find Hershel. I wanted to make sure that Daryl was ok to come back to our tent. He wasn't going to rush, whether he liked it or not. I found the farmer on the porch, enjoying the morning. He assured me that Daryl would be fine to return to his daily routine, barring stealing another horse. I chuckled and thanked him after he told me Daryl could shower the next day.

Returning to the invalid's room, I found Andrea offering him a novel and Daryl warning her that if she ever shot at him again, he "best be dead." I nodded, and then looked up at her. "If you don't know how to properly handle a weapon, perhaps Dale was right, and you shouldn't have one." I glared at her before she could open her mouth for one of her glorious retorts. "Leave."

Daryl was watching me closely as I sat down on the bed. "She fucked up, Jessi, but we've all fucked up one time or another." He said, taking my hand in his. "Let it go, I have."

I shot him a look and he smiled. "Ever fuck up and nearly kill someone?" He just stared at me. "Because that's what Andrea did. She couldn't see through the glare of the sun, and she shot at you. She was aiming for that thick head of yours, Dixon. If she was better with weapons, you'd be dead. And so would she." It was a statement and I meant every single word of it.

"Jessi," he whispered, clearly not expecting the force of my reaction to the situation. "Baby, I'm OK. She didn't kill me, hell, I did worse to myself yesterday." He was trying to calm me, but this was one topic that it wouldn't work.

I pulled my hand free from his and leaned closer to his face. Cupping it between my hands, I stared into his eyes. "You're not dead because of her lack of skill, Daryl. That's not a win, not when I know Dad will insist everyone learn their weapons better. You're not dead because Dad hasn't had a chance to teach her up." I sighed and ran my thumbs along his cheeks. "She isn't right for this world, I know it, and it's going to get someone killed."

His hand slid to cover mine, holding me to his face. "Then we watch her." He agreed. "We make sure that she doesn't screw up. Jessi, you can't just get rid of people because they're-"

"Dangerous?" I scoffed. "That's what Andrea is, it's what Shane is. They're both ticking time bombs, the only question in my mind? Which one blows first?"

HOURS LATER~OUTSIDE OUR TENT

Daryl and I had agreed to disagree on the Andrea situation. His let bygones be bygones made me want to scream, but I understood it too. This new life, with walkers trying to kill us, and people not much better, made some strong. Unfortunately, Daryl felt that we just had to train up the weakest to make them better suited.

I did agree with the sentiment. For instance, Carol would probably learn to survive. Dale? Well, Dale was pretty much a hippy type, but if it came to killing walkers, he was game. That was a mark in his favor. His fear of ending a human's life, however, was going to end up problematic. People, I could tell, were going to be just as dangerous to us as walkers. I mean, Dad told us what happened in Atlanta with the "gang" he'd halved the gun supply with, and let's not forget Dr. Jenner.

Here's my list for people in our group who would probably learn to survive better:

Daryl

Dad

Shane (that kills me to admit)

Me

Carl

Glenn (he'd be higher on the list, but he wasn't raised by my dad)

Lori (iffy, she's still a little timid)

T-Dog

Carol (once we find Sofia, or we put the poor child to rest, whichever)

Dale (once his bleeding heart savior shit is put in its place)

Andrea

That's how it would work, in order of best chances to least. See who's last? Yeah, because she's not going to make it. Even if she learns, she's going to still make the stupidest decisions and then we'll be the ones to clean it up or take the hit. I didn't share the list with Daryl. Because honestly, I think he might have taken it as a personal challenge to prove me wrong. That and his head would grow three sizes too big to fit through the door of the tent, since he outranked my dad in the pecking order.

He was happy to hear about the shower. Whether it was the actual bathing, or the fact that he was going to do his damndest to get me in that hot water with him, I'm not sure.

We spent the day listening as Dad planned to take the group shooting (told you so), and then work on the areas surrounding where Daryl found Sofia's doll. Daryl, I was happy to notice, would be staying back with me. I begged off the shooting practice by holding up my bow to my dad. He laughed and rolled his eyes, but walked away without a fight. Daryl was watching me and I saw his interest in my response and I knew he was wondering if I could use a gun.

"I can shoot guns, Daryl." I answered him before he could form the question. "My dad was a sheriff's deputy in the south. Of course, I'm proficient in gun use." I rolled my eyes.

He gave one of those gruff chuckles I loved. "Didn't want to give yourself a little practice? Practice makes-"

"Perfect, yeah, I might have heard that before." I watched his eyes grow darker at the memory of the last time I was told about it.

I ran over to the RV to see if Dale needed help with watching over us all on the roof. I'd rather be with Daryl, but I also knew that every little bit helps. It's how I caught Glenn acting twitchier than usual and asking Dale if Andrea might be on her period because she was acting crazy.

He actually thought, and I quote, "I'm only asking 'cause it's like all the women are acting really weird. And…and I read somewhere that when women spend a lot of time together, their cycles line up and they all get super crazy hormonal at the same time."

I coughed and he realized that I was standing nearby. "I can attest that I am NOT currently having my period, but thanks for asking, Glenn." I grinned at his blush. "Andrea's off her rocker most days, as for the OTHER ladies," I raised an eyebrow to remind him that I knew who he was thinking of, "I'm sure that's not the issue either. We're dealing with the apocalypse, dude, what did you expect?"

Dale grinned at me and agreed. "I'm gonna advise you to keep your theory to yourself."

I nodded, "Telling a woman she's PMS crazy brings out a whole new round of nuts."

Glenn, far from looking reassured, looked more twitchy. What the hell?

"Want to tell me what's going on?" Dale asked, and I nearly walked away, but thought I might want to hear the answer.

"You're old." Glenn started, and I closed my eyes at the poor boy's tact. "You're… you know things. So what if someone told you something that someone else should know…"

I rolled my eyes as Dale told him to stop being dramatic and spit it out.

"There's...there's walkers in the barn and Lori's pregnant." He spit it out alright, and I nearly did too. Fuck, WHAT?

"WHAT?!" I had to keep myself from screaming. They both remembered I was standing near them and who I was. "I'm guessing Dad doesn't know?"

Glenn shook his head. I ran my hands over my face. Fuck, this was bad. Bad, bad, bad. Dale asked if he should speak to Hershel, and I considered it. Having Hershel explain himself to Dad would be MUCH better than one of us. I nodded. As for Lori? There's no chance that baby is my dad's. NONE. Great, a baby Shane. Unless Dad raised it. Wasn't there proof that nurture was JUST as important as nature?

"About Lori," Glenn started and I held up a hand.

"She can figure it out," I said, trying to school my features from shock to whatever I could manage. I shook my head. "I'm going to pretend I didn't hear this entire mess of a conversation. Dale? Do you need me to stand watch?" He shook his head and I walked away.

Finding Daryl sitting by our tent, I knew he'd be able to tell something was wrong, but I hoped I could distract us both. His smile made those damn butterflies in my stomach start up again. It was better than the nausea Glenn's news made me feel.

"Wondered where ya got off to." He said, patting the ground beside him, but I shook my head.

"Had to make sure Dale didn't need help with watch." I offered and he nodded. Standing he loomed by the tree he had been sitting against.

"Does he?" He asked, and I shook my head again. "So what're we gonna get into all alone while they're gone?"

I raised an eyebrow and was gratified when he rushed to me and smothered any further conversation with a burning kiss. I sighed into him, trying desperately to be careful of his wounded side.

"I'd really like to carry ya inside the tent," he whispered against my lips.

I smiled at the thought of it. "If you screw up those stitches, I'll catch hell from Hershel." I giggled and took his hand. "Besides, I'm perfectly capable of walking with you inside the tent, Daryl."

The others were gone, except Dale, Carol, Glenn, and the Greene family. And entering our tent, I watched as Daryl groaned and lay back on our sleeping bags. I knew this killed him, being at anyone's mercy, even mine. Yet, I loved that he trusted me enough to allow it. I bit my lip and looked down at him, fully clothed and clean, thank God. I could still see the ear necklace and all the blood and gore from the day before.

"What're ya lookin' at?" He asked, his gruff voice husky and his eyes barely squinting to take me in.

I smiled and laid down beside him. "You, Daryl Dixon, I was looking at you." I ran my hand up his chest, careful of the bandaged side. "And I was wondering something."

I knew his eyes were closed without looking, because I felt him sigh into my soft touch. "What's that?"

"Why was your mouth coated in blood yesterday?" I asked, sitting up on my elbow to look down at him. I saw him grimace slightly, ut-oh.

"I might of eaten a squirrel," he stopped and wouldn't look at me, "raw."

Ugh, I thought, I'd kissed you yesterday and hadn't even noticed. "Ah." Was all I said, and I felt him twitch. "Remind me to never ask that question again."

He chuckled at that. "So tough, but won't even eat meat straight from the source. It was still warm-like." He shook his head and met my eyes as I grimaced. "Should have warned ya, but your kiss was all I could think about on the way back."

"I can't fault that logic." I smiled and leaned forward to kiss him again. When I pulled back, his eyes were more black than blue. "Since you're injured, I should probably take care of you, right?" I asked, we had been so focused on our first night together that we'd never gotten to much more than the full act, so I wanted to be sure.

I watched his Adam's apple bob with a swallow. He nodded and that was all I needed to get into caretaker mode. I gave him a smile and began kissing down his neck, flicking against his pulsepoint and feeling his hand run down my back and then back to my head. I kept going, unbuttoning his shirt and kissing each inch of skin that was exposed as the buttons fell open. His nipples were taunt, and I spent a moment enjoying each one before returning to my route. Down his stomach, nuzzling his bellybutton, and then my fingers found the button on his jeans.

"I probably shouldn't completely undress you," I whispered against his skin as I flicked the button open. "Just when I do, we'll be called to defend the damn world." I felt him chuckle as my fingers opened the zipper. "But I'll make sure everything necessary to your recovery is bared to my attention." His fingers slid under the tightness of my braid and I smiled against his pelvic bone. He lifted his ass long enough to free that part of him I was most concerned with, and then he was free. I hummed in approval. "Oh, I'm more than certain I can make you feel all better, Mr. Dixon." I looked up to see he'd put his other arm under his head to get a better angle to watch me. I smirked at him as my tongue flicked against the head that had given me such pleasure in the bright light of the moon. "Just let me know if there's anything that you need to make a full recovery." And with that I engulfed him with my mouth, my hand moved to the base and together with my mouth and tongue, I worked him.

"Shit, Jessi," he hissed, his fingers tangled in the depths of my hair. "Yeah, fuck, just like that."

I moved slowly, then faster, then slower, making him moan and gasp. His hand in my hair tightened and I knew he was ready, but he did the unexpected, he yanked me from him. "Get up here, Jess." He growled and my mouth met his with a hunger that was even more than the night before. "I need ya. All of ya." He moaned against my mouth, and I felt his hands sliding down to my own jeans, undoing them and tugging. "Pull em off." He ordered and I pulled back, kicking off my boots and ridding myself of my pants. "Now climb on top." Demanding, I thought, but I was powerless to deny him.

I straddled him and then he snapped up into me. We both moaned at the feeling. We hadn't thought it was right to try in Hershel's house, in a stranger's bed, but this, I rocked my hips and felt sparks between us, this was US. He pulled me back to him, so most of my weight was on him. I was trying to be so careful of his wound, but he wouldn't allow it. Not now, not here, here we had to connect. And so, my covered chest was tight against his, even as he quickened his pace of thrusting. He swallowed my screams of pleasure as I was fed his own. And for the first time, but not the last, when we came, we didn't part.

And for a brief moment, I forgot about the walkers in the barn and my newest sibling on the way.