So, I'm back! You guys all owe one to Fuzzywuzzy93, since it was their message that got me off my ass and writing again. Why can't October be NOW!?

Also- please review. I know summer is crazy as all get out, but you guys are what keep me going through the dry spells! I need you! :)

"Look for the green stalks. Look like ordinary grasses, mostly, but darker green, 'nd more round. If you break off part of one and it smells like onions- you found 'em." Jamie explained, fingers expertly raking through the dirt, exposing a small clump of wild onions.

Aaron nodded, looking interested and watching her work. "Are they edible?"

She nodded, smiling. Aaron was one of the few people she'd met in Alexandria who was actually wanting to learn how to survive, meaning these past two days outside the walls with him had been filled with questions. "Yeah. Taste like store onions- more dirty, though. You get sick of 'em, when they're all you've had to eat for days..." she didn't look up from digging, and Aaron joined her, loosening the earth with his fingers before pulling up a clump of them.

Mosquitoes hummed through the tall grass, and she broke the green stalks from the white bulbs of the onions, smearing them and the onion-smelling juice they secreted onto her arms.

"Keeps the bugs away." she explained, catching Aaron's curious look.

Aaron nodded, looking amused by the prospect, and she handed him the onion scapes after rubbing them onto her neck and cheeks. "Also helps with vampires." she added jokingly, and Aaron laughed, before beginning to rub the scapes on his own arms.

"So- how do you like Alexandria?" Aaron asked once he was done and had resumed digging beside her.

She was silent for a moment, trying to think of something to say that wouldn't hurt his feelings. "I- It's clean there. No dead things, running water, food- it's a nice place." she didn't meet his eyes.

"And the people?" Aaron asked, looking at her expectantly.

She sighed, yanking a bundle of onions from the soil roughly. "Don't take this the wrong way- but they're assholes."

Aaron nodded seriously. "You really think so?"

"Well- yeah. You can't tell me they're well-adjusted survivors. The groups on supply runs lose somebody every other week, the kids have no idea how to handle a firearm or survive outside the walls, and nobody talks about the walkers."

"Why would you talk about them?" Aaron asked, brow creased in confusion.

"To learn. You have to know about something to fight it, to defeat it- Daryl and I do it all the time. Talking 'bout weak points, where you can hit 'em and get an easy, quiet kill. It's strategy- if I put every one of your people in a room with a gun and a walker, how many would survive?"

Aaron didn't meet her eyes.

"And the thing that really pisses me off about them is- they don't even care. They have no idea how to survive and conduct themselves, and they don't care. Instead, it's all gossip about who did what last night, and when I try and do something useful like help Daryl get a kill back to camp or educate kids on walkers- they look at me like I'm crazy. It's unbelievable."

Aaron nodded, not looking up from the dirt. "You really think that?"

"Yes. I'm not trying to be a douche, either-" she amended quickly. "Don't get me wrong. They're good people, nice people- a bit shallow, but nice- but they're naive. If they don't get their shit together, a crisis is gonna happen- and they're gonna die. Do I want them to die? No. But it's gonna happen- I've seen it happen before." she remembered the kids from Woodbury silently, lowering her eyes to stare at the ground. She wondered where they were- wondered if the walkers they'd turned into were still in Georgia, or if they'd been put out of their misery by a kind passerby, or simply decayed beyond usefulness and up and rotted.

"What do you suggest, then?"

"Learn. Like you're doing, right now." she met Aaron's eyes as he looked up, nodding. "You adapt. It's what makes you different than them. They all sit on their porches and drink lemonade and wait for the undead to come and kill them off- you come outside and you ask me what to do and how to survive and you REMEMBER it for later- you're gonna be one of the few of them that make it. Eric, too, maybe, if his ankle heals and you teach him this stuff."

Aaron stared at her for a moment, surprised, before he spoke. "You're pretty smart for fourteen year old kid." he said finally.

"I'm not a kid anymore. Anything that was a kid died a long time ago-" back when she'd put a bullet in her sister's head, when she'd fought for her life and been shot in the woods, when she'd killed a man in Terminus, when she'd smeared herself in entrails and walked through a herd with Carl...

Aaron was silent, simply staring at the dirt for a moment. Was he mourning her lost childhood?

She sighed. "I know what you're thinking. You're feelings sorry for me, 'cause all this shit went down and I had to grow up real fast, and I've seen a lot of shitty things, and how I should just be a kid. But don't."

"How can I not? I can't imagine growing up in a world like this." Aaron said, looking over at her, shocked.

"Yeah, and I can't imagine growing up like it as before. Well- I can... But it feels so far away. I've adapted, evolved- I'm pretty damn lucky, actually. Most teens my age are dead. Yeah, I had to miss out on a few years of tag and hide and seek, but I'm alive. That's the important thing. Besides- I won't have to go through high school, now. I won't have to look back and think how early 2000s my hairstyle was, or worry about what I'm gonna be when I grow up and how I'm gonna pay for college. I don't miss it too badly, either- I'm used to the world, the way it is, now. The world got a lot simpler when dead people started walking- the people in Alexandria don't get it yet. Do you see what I'm saying?"

Aaron nodded slowly, digesting the information. "Yeah- yeah, I think I do."

A bird call echoed through the tall grass on the wind, and she got to her feet, gathering up the clumps of wild onions, white roots knitting them together through the dirt. "That's dad- we better get moving."

Aaron nodded, standing and brushing the dirt from his knees, nearly losing sight of Jamie as she padded silently across the earth, the noise of her footsteps drown out by the swishing of the tall grass.

Daryl was standing in the clearing, sweaty, a smudge of dirt on his cheek.

"Find anything?" he asked hopefully.

"A couple walker tracks, a few days old- and these." she handed him the bundle of wild onions.

"Thank god. The 'skeeters been driving me crazy..." he rubbed the greens onto himself, pocketing the white bulbs- they'd be good to chew on later.

"We'd be more likely to find people if we were by a trailer park, or a housing development- SOMETHING. You don't find most people in the middle of nowhere." Daryl said thoughtfully.

Aaron's brow creased. "Most people in the developments have been wiped out..."

"Exactly. Survivors looking for shelter find a place, clean out the walkers, and start to scavenge nearby for supplies and shit. We done it before- right, Jamie?" she nodded fondly at the memories, and she couldn't help smiling. Yeah, it'd been hard, there'd been nights when she'd gone to bed hungry, but she and Daryl had lived like that for a long time, and she couldn't help but be proud of her Dad.

Aaron nodded, coming to terms with the idea. "There's a trailer park about twenty miles West of here. Eric and I were there a few months ago- there was nothing alive there."

"A lot can change in a few weeks." Daryl said simply, and Aaron nodded.

"Let's go."

She swung her leg over the back of the bike, wrapping her arms around Daryl's middle and leaning her cheek against his back, watching the fields of grass seem to wave at her as they passed by. Every now and then they'd have to get off the bike to clear wrecked cars from the road, but it was strangely peaceful.

She noticed a skinny-looking dog eating the remains out of a walker's torso-the walker, which laid by the roadside- was so decayed it couldn't do more than growl as it's putrid insides were ripped out and devoured. Daryl kept driving.

Crows sat on rusted-barbed wire fences running alongside the road, and by noon they'd reached the trailer park.

A chain-link fence with green backing ran around most of the place, and various pieces of trash were suck in the fence- a slight summer breeze made crumpled up newspapers skitter across the faded pavement, and Daryl nodded to her as Aaron got out of his truck. "Stay close to me or Aaron. We don't know what we'll find."

She nodded, making sure to stay close to them as they strode inside.

The large communal mailbox, divided into compartments and labeled by address number was rusted, some doors to compartments hanging open.

At least a dozen and a half trailers lined the road, which curved off in the distance.

Daryl nodded. "Looks pretty well deserted. We'll go trailer to trailer, check for survivors... You wanna check for supplies while we're in them? I know you ain't that fond of people." Daryl suggested, and she nodded. Maybe there'd be something good here.

The first trailer had the door hanging off the hinges, and Daryl picked up a brick and banged on the doorway with it. He waited one moment, two- there was silence inside, and he nodded. "Banging usually stirs things up, if there's anything inside. Be ready, though."

The door creaked open, and she ducked into the living room- in the dim light she could make out some faded curtains framing the window and a large blood stain on the carpet.

Daryl noticed it, too, and his eyes expertly traced the trail of blood droplets to out the door.

"Whatever it was- it walked out of here. Probably more dead than alive. Eyes open, gun loaded."

She nodded, ducking into the kitchen and eyeing every possible hiding place before starting to open the cupboards. They were largely bare- dirty dishes and empty cans littered the counter space, but in the very back of one cupboard she found some matches and a jar of pickles, and she placed the items in her backpack, moving onto the drawers. Nothing good- a screw driver that might be useful sharpened, a letter opener, and some scotch tape. She'd probably have more luck in a garden shed, finding tools and gasoline...

Daryl and Aaron had moved on down the hallway, into the bedrooms, and she was about to head after them when the cupboard beneath the sink caught her eye. She hadn't searched there- she remembered her Dad had kept a few bottles of whisky beneath their sink, along with the cleaning supplies, so they wouldn't get into them as kids, and grinned. Maybe there was something equally as good in here.

There was some kind of child-safety lock on the door, the kind that automatically locked when the door closed, and she found the magnet that supposedly opened the door, hearing the tell-tale click and opening the door...

The first then that hit her was the smell of dead, and then something lunged at her, grabbing her ankle.

She went to jump backwards, shocked, but ended up falling onto her butt, ankle caught in a walker's grasp...

She lashed out with her other leg, kicking once, twice at the walker's head before it let go and scrambling back on her ass, fumbling and reaching up to snatch her gun off the counter as the thing crawled towards her with frightening agility, before with shaking hands she aimed and fired-

The thing hit the ground in a heap, brackish, rotten blood seeping from a hole in its head.

There were running feet, then, and Daryl burst into the room, crossbow raise, Aaron not far behind him with his rifle...

Daryl stared, surprised, at the bloody linoleum. "I checked the kitchen... it was clear..."

"I... he was in the cupboard under the sink." Jamie panted, rattled. "I was looking for supplies- I unlocked the cupboard and he just jumped out..."

The thing that really shook her was that it was a kid. Had been a kid, anyways. Couldn't have been more than six or seven, really, though the glassy eyes told her he was already dead before she'd shot him, it didn't make it any easier...

Daryl quietly rolled the body over, sighing. It never got easier, killing walkers that'd been children. There was a clear bite wound on the boy's wrist.

"Poor kid was bit. Probably what that blood stain in the living room is from- somebody died in here, bit him, he ran and hid in the cupboard so it wouldn't eat him, died in there."

Aaron was looking like he might throw up, and Daryl looked over at her. "You didn't expect it, did you?"

She shook her head.

"Neither did I. Extra careful, from now on- who knows how many kids here tried to hide and ended up dead, trapped places..."

She nodded, getting to her feet. The bottom of her boots were covered in blood, but it didn't really matter. She was alive- the walker was dead. End of story.

"Anything here?"

Daryl shook his head. "No people. Found these in the medicine cabinet, might be useful, though." he handed her two half-full prescription bottles, and she tossed them into her backpack along with the pickles and matches.

"This one's clean. Let's keep moving."

Aaron was still looking at the dead child on the floor, but he nodded. Jamie wordlessly cocked her gun before following Daryl out of the house, making sure not to look back.

The whole trailer smelled like piss and smoke. She'd found some good things in the first few trailers so far- a can of coke, for one thing, and half a pack of gum with the pieces still wrapped. And then there was the can of soup, and a couple of bottles of vitamins and some aspirin she'd decided to take as well. She was pretty damn near convinced she wouldn't find anything here, except maybe a meth lab in one of the rooms. It smelled awful, and it was clear whoever lived here didn't really take care of their stuff.

She started to search the master bedroom on a whim, though- places like these usually had weapons, a glock stashed in the closet, a sawed-off shotgun beneath the bed- either way, she wanted to find it.

There was a shoe box under the bed, a box with a few shells of ammo in it, but that was it. She pulled open the nightstand drawer, hoping for a firearm of some kind, instead coming face-to-face with cigarettes. A pack and a half or so, no less. She stared for a minute- Daryl would like some, she knew, but if she gave them to him he'd take them all. And she really, really wanted to try smoking.

She make her decision, grabbing the packages and stuffing them into her pockets- if it were medicine or some vital resource she was hiding, she'd feel bad, but they were just cigarettes, and nobody would suffer because she took them. In fact, she was probably actually saving Daryl's lungs, she convinced herself, and any guilt she felt washed away. She'd look into the cigarettes later, when Daryl wasn't always around.

There was a nice looking pocket knife, and she took that as well, before the smell of the place really started to get to her and she bailed.

Daryl and Aaron had begun making quick sweeps of the trailers, declaring them walker and people free, and allowing her to go through them more in-depth behind them. Truthfully, she didn't mind, and she strode down the rotting porch steps of the place, looking around the deserted street.

Daryl and Aaron were probably a trailer or two ahead of her, she realized, and she was about to move onto the next trailer, a well-cared for, red one, when the garden shed behind the place caught her eye. The boards were rotted, she could probably kick her way in, and she might find a gas can or something else useful.

The shed boarded on the chain link fence that ran the length of the park, as well, so she'd only have to guard 180 degrees.

She looked around for a few minutes- there was a relatively decent hammer she decided she'd take, but everything else was pretty fucking useless.

She slung the her half-zipped backpack over one shoulder, about to duck back out of the shed, when she heard the low growl from behind her.

She turned around slowly, coming face to face with a half-starved German Shepherd. It's teeth were bared, torn ears back, and everything about this dog's posture absolutely screamed attack.

She moved her arm slowly, hoping not to startle it and going for the gun in her waistband. Before she'd even touched the metal of her gun, though, the dog sprang at her.

She threw her arms up on instinct as she went down, and the dog's teeth found purchase in her forearm. She bit back a scream of pain as the dog shook his head back and forth viciously, tearing into her skin even more.

She instinctively struck out, punching the dog in the muzzle, but it did nothing to phase it. Her pistol was trapped underneath her, she had no weapons... The glint of the hammer hanging out of her half-open backpack, which she'd dropped, caught her attention, and she forced her arm up, groping across the shed floor desperately, before her arms closed around the handle.

She swung it as hard as she possible could, and it hit the dog's muzzle with a resounding crack. The dog's grip on her forearm lessened considerably, but it was still biting her. That was all she was thinking when she swung it again, this time making contact higher up on the dog's skull, right behind the eyes...

The dog yelped and backed off, teeth releasing her arm as he backed up, still growling, with blood leaking from his muzzle. She scrambled to her feet, wounded arm dangling, hammer still clutched tight. For a moment she thought he'd turn tail and run, she wouldn't have to kill him, but then he made one last lunge, going for her throat.

The hammer collided with the side of his face as he came, there was a resounding crack, and a moment later the dog was still on the ground. She breathed heavily, clutching the hammer, but by the way the dog's eyes were rolled back in its head, she could tell it was unconscious. And that she'd fucked it up pretty badly. She saw the unnatural bump where she'd probably broken its skull, the way the blood was dripping from its nose and one of it's ears, and she knew it'd be cruel to let it live.

She understood why it'd attacked her, as well. It was fucking starving- she'd been a last ditch attempt at a meal. But now, badly wounded and starving, it was clear that if the dog did wake up, it wasn't going to last long outside. It'd taken too much of a beating- and while she was bitter it'd attacked her, she wasn't cruel, and she wouldn't leave it to suffer like that. Wordlessly, she pulled out her knife and parted the matted fur, looking for the thing's throat.

Instead, she found a collar, and tags with an address. She looked down mournfully- the poor bastard had been somebody's pet. For a moment, she thought she wouldn't be able to do it, but she remembered the alternative was the dog starving or being overtaken by a walker.

She pressed her blade against the dog's throat, closed her eyes and begged forgiveness for what she was about to do, and drew the blade across the dog's neck. There was blood- a lot of blood, but the dog's eyes never fluttered open, it wasn't conscious, it didn't feel anything. She petted the matted fur until the dog's chest stopped rising and falling and the pool of blood beneath it had grown, before sheathing her knife, getting to her feet, and stumbling outside the shed.

They were on the ninth trailer, about to head down the hallway, when a gun cocked.

"One more step and you're dead." a shaky voice announced.

Both Daryl and Aaron froze, and Daryl straightened his back. "Imma put down my bow, alright? 'M just gonna set it right here, on the floor. Aaron's gonna do the same thing. We're from a settlement not far from here- a place with walls. We just wanna talk."

Daryl set the bow down and turned to see a woman no older than thirty or so standing in the doorway with stringy, wavy brown hair, face grimy, shotgun in hand.

"Leave." she ground out. She looked shaky, and suddenly Daryl was aware of how intimidating he and Aaron were. Two men had just entered her trailer, she was probably afraid they were going to rape her...

"We just wanna talk." Aaron had set his rifle at his feet, as well, and he stepped forward, hands up defensively.

"I'm Aaron, and this is Daryl." he smiled winningly. "We're not bad guys, and we don't wanna hurt you. We're out here recruiting survivors for our community..."

She'd started to lower the gun, but Aaron took another step closer and it was raised again, pointed at his heart.

"Just leave!" the woman snarled, eyes wild.

"I have a daughter." Daryl spoke up quietly, not wanting to startle her. "She's outside. I can bring her in, if you want- she's looking for supplies, but she'll tell you- we ain't bad people."

The woman looked slightly surprised at the offer, he could see the hostility slipping from her brown eyes.

"Can I do that? Can I go out on the front porch and call my daughter?"

The woman nodded slowly, swallowing, and Daryl strode for the door, before the woman's eyes hardened again.

"Anybody walks in that door other than you or a little girl, and you're dead."

Daryl nodded. "Yes 'm." was all he said, before he ducked out onto the porch.

The woman kept the shotgun aimed at Aaron, who stood still as could be, not wanting to startle her.

"I swear to god if this is a trick..." the woman growled, eyeing the door nervously.

"It isn't. I promise you." Aaron said, brown eyes serious. The woman looked like she wanted to believe him, but she tore her gaze off him and continued to eye the door nervously.

"Jamie!"

"Jamie!"

She'd just finished wrapping her torn up arm in a handkerchief when Daryl called for her, and her blood ran cold. Daryl never called her name unless something was wrong, and she was off a running, bag of supplies jingling behind her as she trotted as fast as she could to the ninth trailer down the line.

Daryl was on the front porch, and he nodded to her. "She's right here." he called in the door. "If I bring her in, you promise you ain't gonna shoot her?"

"Let me hear he talk!" the woman demanded, looking anxious. She still hadn't taken her gun off Aaron.

"You heard her, Jamie- say somethin'. She's real nervous- wants to make sure you're a girl, and that we ain't gonna hurt nobody."

"Um... hi. My name's Jamie. I guess you already met my Dad. He's not a rapist or anything, neither is Aaron- in fact, Aaron's gay, so you really don't have to worry about him..."

Aaron let out a breathless laugh, and the woman slowly lowered her gun.

"Send her in. I won't shoot."

Daryl nodded to Jamie, who ducked inside the house, nodding slightly to the woman.

Daryl stepped in quietly after her, placing a hand on Jamie's shoulder protectively.

The woman didn't seem to care about the two men in the room, however. She'd lowered her gun, and was completely focused on Jamie.

"How old are you? she asked, blinking, surprised.

"Fourteen." Jamie said, still watching the gun she held warily.

"Jamie- sweety- this man- he take good care of you?"

"Yes ma'am. Always has- he's my Dad. Protected me from a lot of crazy motherfuckers out there..."

The woman swallowed, nodding. She seemed convinced they weren't dangerous, once she'd seen they had Jamie, a kid and a girl, no less, with them.

All of a sudden, the door in the hallway behind the woman opened, and a small, dirty face peeked out. "Mommy- can I come out now?" he asked, eying everyone warily.

Suddenly her nervous behavior made even more sense- she'd had a kid with her- and the woman nodded. "Yes, honey, you can come out..."

"Who are they?" his face brightened when he saw Jamie. "Do you have a boy with you? I wanna play with a boy..."

"Avery- quiet." his mother insisted, and Daryl stared. The boy couldn't have been more than eight, and he eyed the new people in his home warily, taking hold of his mother's hand.

"I- what was it you folks were saying?" the woman asked, now paying a lot more attention to them, and a lot less on aiming her shotgun.

"We're from a community about twenty miles east- it's walled in. No dead people walking around. We've got electricity, men, women, children, food- walls are the most important thing, though. Surrounded by metal walls- nothing gets in." Jamie said, realizing the woman would take the news best from her.

"How do I know you're telling the truth?" the woman asked, pulling her son closer to her.

"I have pictures." Aaron offered, handing them to her. The woman began to look through them, still uncertain...

"I know you're thinking this is BS. I thought so, too, when Aaron found my Dad and I, along with the rest of our group. But then we got there- the walls are real. Everyone has a job- everyone's got a house. Three square meals a day, school for the kids- I know it sounds insane, but it's true. I've been there." Jamie told her.

The woman bit her lip, still looking uncertain.

"It's almost dusk, but we can get back by ten or so tomorrow -if you decide to come with us- I'll even be your hostage, if you want. You get to put that shotgun to my head until they prove this place is legit. Sound like a deal?" she asked, offering a grin.

The woman nodded seriously. "We'll go. But if this turns out to be bullshit, we're leaving. Understand?"

Jamie nodded. "Totally."

The woman looked down at her son carefully. "Avery- pack your things." The boy nodded and scurried off to his room, and the woman nodded to Jamie.

"I'm Dakota. That's my son, Avery."

Jamie nodded. "I'm Jamie. My Dad- Daryl, and Aaron, a friend."

The woman nodded. "I have to pack my things..."

Aaron nodded. "I understand. I have a pick up truck- would you like me to bring it around so you can put your bags in the tailgate?"

Dakota nodded, and so did Daryl. "I gotta go get the motorcycle. I'll be back soon, alright?"

Jamie nodded, slightly worried about being alone with a stranger, but reassured that the woman probably wouldn't try to fight her- she had a kid to protect after all.

As soon as Daryl and Aaron were gone, the woman dragged her down the hallway and pushed her into a room, slamming the door behind her.

"I needed to talk to you alone, when they weren't in the room." Dakota said, pacing. "Is this really what they say it is? Are you really his daughter, and is this some sort of trap?"

"This place is legit, Dakota. Daryl's really my Dad, I'm not some sort of slave, and it isn't a trap. I swear- we can still do the hostage gig, if it'll make you feel better." Jamie assured her, sitting down on the bed. "I promise, though- we're not psychos or liars. There are a lot of great people there- my friend, Carl- he's even got a baby sister. There are a few kids- Avery will like it. And most importantly, it's safer there for him."

The woman nodded, running a hand through her filthy hair. "You're right. Of course you're right, I'm just so nervous..."

"Normal. It's a big deal, moving- especially with a little boy to take care of. You won't be disappointed- I promise."

The woman took a deep breath. "Right. Of course, you're right, I've just been here for so long it's hard to imagine moving..."

"I'll admit, it's a bit of a culture shock, but after your first haircut, you'll fit right in." she assured Dakota, smiling. The woman nodded, though she still looked anxious.

That night they made a small fire out of brush she and Daryl collected, and listened to Avery chat away about comic books and chocolate and how he hoped there was another boy in Alexandria he could play with. They all smiled and nodded politely until the boy fell asleep in his mother's arms, and then the only sound was the popping and crackling of the fire as the light danced off everyone's faces.

Dakota soon climbed into the bed of Aaron's truck to sleep, taking a sleeping Avery with her, and Daryl looked over at her, about to suggest they turn in as well, when he noticed a bit of crimson seeping through the handkerchief wrapped around her arm and frowned.

"What happened?" he was already doing his best to unwrap her arm and be gentle sat the same time, and she shrugged.

"I ran into a dog It was starving, I guess, it kinda attacked me..."

"I didn't hear a gunshot." Daryl said, looking surprised.

"I killed it with a hammer. Hit it a few times, then slit its throat..."

Daryl didn't say anything for a moment, just staring at the open wound on her arm, before he spoke.

"You should've told me sooner." he admonished her, grabbing his canteen and doing his best to clean the wound. "This could've gotten infected."

"I was a bit busy helping calm down Dakota, Dad. Besides- it was no big deal. I handled it."

Daryl frowned. "You know how much shit is in a dog's mouth? Seriously Jamie, you coulda said something..." he pressed a hand to her forehead, glad when he found the skin to be its normal temperature. "You're lucky. No fever But you watch that arm- it starts to hurt, you tell me, 'kay?"

"Whatever." she rolled her eyes. Daryl could be overbearing sometimes- like right now.

"No 'whatever's' here, Jamie- you promise you'll tell me." Daryl said firmly. She sighed. "Dad, I've been surviving the apocalypse since I was twelve, I think I know how to wrap a wound..."

"If your arm gets worse, you will tell me. Promise?"

"Promise." she said begrudgingly, exasperated.

Daryl relaxed slightly, kicking some dirt over the dying fire and nodding to her. "That's my baby girl." he said, giving her a quick peck on the forehead. "Hey- promise you'll take Aaron to see the dead dog tomorrow. We might need him to convince Deanna- the last thing we want is them thinking you're bit."

Aaron nodded, and she agreed. "Fine. I'll take you to see the dog in the morning. Can we go to bed, now?"

Daryl nodded, and she shoved him over so he was sprawled on his back, before curling up beside him, laying her head on his chest.

All too soon, she was asleep.

Aaron cocked an eyebrow at Daryl, looking across the fire at him.

"What?" Daryl asked, not sure.

"She killed a dog."

"Yeah, she did. It attacked her- you saw her arm..."

"I'm not blaming her." Aaron amended quickly, putting his hands up defensively. "It's just... she's a little young to be scavenging the camp without us nearby, isn't she?"

Daryl grunted, looking down at the girl laying beside him. "I don't think so. She handled it, didn't she? If she really got in trouble, I'd have heard her scream for me- she heard me calling to her, afterall, we were only a few trailers away..."

Aaron nodded, seeming to agree. "I guess I'm just not used to seeing people handle things like that so... normally."

Daryl shrugged. "Panicking won't do any good. Just cleaned it, bandaged it the best we can- she's gonna get hurt- shit happens out here. The point is, she gets hurt when I'm close enough to bail her out, and she learns something. And eventually, she'll be experienced enough she won't need me nearby all the time."

Aaron nodded. "Seems like sound reasoning. Things like that happen often, though?" he asked, nodding towards her bandaged arm.

Daryl nodded. "You have no idea. She's a little accident prone- stepped on a porcupine once, got a bunch of quills in her leg, then she didn't take care of the bandages and it got infected. Damn near lost her. And then our place- a farm- was overrun, she almost got left behind, she got shot, once, thought I'd lose her then, too, and then our place fell apart again and we ended up on the road, got attacked by some assholes... They were gonna- I killed them, they didn't hurt her, but they were close." his voice had lowered to a near whisper at the end of it, and Aaron looked at him, wide-eyed.

"All that?"

"Yeah. And we went to a settlement, too- promised sanctuary for all. They were cannibals. How she got the scar- they shot her, grazed her face- she and Carl, Rick's boy- got out- then the whole place went to hell and we found them a mile or so in the woods. 'S why we were such assholes when you found us- didn't want this place to turn out to be a death trap. The road ain't a place to try to raise kids- but she needs to LEARN how to handle herself without walls. If that means she gets a few more scars- fine by me. As long as she comes out okay in the end- 's long as she survives."

He idly traced the white scar on her cheek, the bullet graze she'd gotten at Terminus. She didn't stir.

Aaron nodded seriously, agreeing with him as he instead changed his gaze to the ashes of the dead fire, until sleep overtook him.

MAILBAG

Guest, Chapter 95

One of the absolute best fanfictions I've read ever. Got my friends hooked on it as well. Can't wait for the next chapter.

Wow, thanks! Glad you're enjoying it- I've been wracking my brain and trying to keep getting you guys all you fix, since SOMEONE *glares at Kirkman* decided to fuck around until October and torture us all! :(

UpAllNightt, Chapter 95

First of all, I really LOVE Jamie! She such a badass! I really like how you can keep her realistic and not a mary-sue. I ship her with Carl 3
Second of all, I finally caught up reading this story and all I can say is this is one of my favorite fics of all time! Keep up the great work! Can't wait for the next one!

Thanks, I'm really glad you enjoy her! I really wanted the story to revolve around her/Daryl's relationship, as well as her/Carl growing up without making her seem too nuts, and I'm glad to hear I got it right! :)