Disclaimer: I do not own the Walking Dead or any of its characters. All OCs are mine and plot deviations as well.

WARNING: MENTIONS OF RAPE!

Shot in the Dark

*~Abilene~*

I stared in helpless horror as Daryl was half carried, half dragged into the farm house by Glenn and Willy.

Please don't die, I pleaded him in my mind. Please don't die, please don't die, please don't die.

I couldn't do anything to help, I'd had no medical training or anything useful at all.

I thought back to the time I had spent at the farm, when Daryl's group came and the time since then. I only had insights about Daryl Dixon and hadn't really interacted with him aside from talking to him about washing his clothes for him. Before then, I caught glimpses of him through my window or during chores as he went about his business.

I caught sight of Andrea staring after them, wide eyed and pale.

An innocent life could be extinguished today and it was because she didn't wait until her theory was confirmed. She saw an injured man stumbling out of the woods and assumed the worst, then shot him.

Rick and Shane had it handled without her interference. They were prepared to take care of a lone walker quietly, without risking attracting more with a gunshot and she took matters into her own hands anyway. She shot Daryl needlessly for selfish reasons.

Anger courses through me then, hot and red, and I flew at her. "You could've killed him!"

"Whoa!" T-Dog shouted, startled, and tried to carefully pull me off of the blonde.

I punched at every part of her that I could reach, anger boiling under my skin. "He wasn't even a walker! He was hurt! You should have waited until you could see him properly!"

"Abilene!" T-Dog was nervous and not totally trying, which worked to my advantage.

I hit harder, growing angrier each time I thought about what happened. People die when they let stupidity rule over common sense, everyone knows that noise draws the dead, but gunshots especially. Camps get overrun when someone gets the bright idea to throw everything to the wind because they have something to prove or they can handle themselves. Annie Oakley here thought she was above Rick and Hershel's rule, ignored Dales warning and shot half cocked because she wanted to be like the boys. She was tired of women's work.

"I was just trying to protect the farm!" Andrea yelled, arms raised to defend herself. "I was doing my job."

"That's not good enough! You knew you didn't have a good visual and you took the shot anyway! What if it had been Rick or Shane or Glenn? You almost killed a living person just because you wanted to prove you could be just like the men! There was one suspected Walker, they move slower than us, you could have waited to confirm it was a walker for longer than you did. Rick took people to go investigate and handle the problem quietly if necessary. You just wanted to beat Rick and the men to the punch." I stopped at that point, still angry but I was becoming tired.

I carefully scooted away from her, glaring hard at her and fuming silently.

Then, my rage shifted into something else. I blinked, my chin trembling as tears starting streaming. "I'm not a violent person. I don't like violence, it doesn't solve anything. I'm being a mean violent meanie and you're shooting members of your group to try to show up other people. What's happening to us?"

Andrea lay still for a few moments, panting, before she stood up and walked to the house.

I rubbed my belly and counted my breaths. Breathe in. Daryl was fine. Breathe out. The bullet just grazed him, he was fine. And repeat.

Eventually, the tears subsided and my mood swings leveled out.

"Abilene? You okay?" T-Dog was eyeing me nervously.

I wasn't sure how to answer. These were very intense mood swings and I wasn't usually so violent toward anyone. "I don't know. I'm not usually so violent, I just hate when people do stupid stuff for stupid reasons, no matter what the consequences are."

"I can understand your point, but I also know that she honestly did want to help keep the camp safe." He replied, eyes watching me carefully. He glanced between my face and bulging stomach. "You shouldn't have flown at her like that, could've hurt yourself, but you were right to be angry."

"I know." I sighed, rubbing my small bump. I moved to the lawn chair beside the clothes line.

He smiled, squeezing my shoulder and leaving me sitting beside the hanging clothes.

My mind was a mess. I attacked Andrea today, which I don't do because I hate violence and don't believe it solves problems. She did shoot Daryl, even though it only grazed the side of his head. What if Daryl died? What if he turned and no one noticed until it was too late? What if my baby dies during delivery? What if I die before Hershel can get my baby out?

I did something I hadn't done for at least two weeks.

I prayed.

"Dear heavenly father, I know I haven't spoken to you in a little while, but please let my baby enter this world healthy and alive. Also, please don't take Daryl into your holy kingdom just yet. He has a lot of good in him, I've seen it, and he hasn't opened his full potential yet. But, I know he will if you give him more time. In your holy name, I pray. Amen." I began to breathe easier now that I knew He had heard my words.

Whether or not He would answer is another matter.

*~Glenn~*

Hershel was stitching Daryl up, Andrea's bullet had only grazed him, but he had other injuries to worry about. He had taken an arrow through his side among other smaller injuries caused by a tumble.

Hershel said that Daryl had lost a lot of blood and that the added stress of being shot had knocked him out cold.

Unfortunately for all involved, he was awake now and was understandably unhappy.

Willy and I were standing in the doorway, we had already given our account and were waiting in case Herschel needed us to restrain Daryl.

T-Dog walked up the stairs, pausing when he saw us.

"T-Dog? What's going on?" I asked, startled at his sudden presence inside. He was outside with Abilene when we came inside.

He ignored my question and focused on Willy. "Abilene attacked Andrea. You should probably have Hershel check on her after he's done with Daryl."

Abilene? Blonde, about my height, pregnant girl Abilene? I frowned, confused. She was usually so quiet and sweet. I had trouble picturing her attacking a bunny rabbit, let alone a member of our group.

"Attacked? What happened?" Willy asked, immediately protective and concerned.

"She flew at Andrea in a fury for almost killing Daryl because of her need to prove to the men she could handle protecting the camp as well as we can." T-Dog answered, staring evenly at the other man. "She dressed her down pretty thoroughly and made a strong case. She was right, but she handled it wrong. Then she started crying and sort of babbling about violence and other stuff."

Willy immediately turned and headed for the stairs. T-Dog followed at a more sedate pace, leaving me alone in the hallway.

She actually did it? I couldn't believe it. She didn't seem like she had it in her. She cried afterward? What was that about?

I glanced between Daryl and the stairs. Should I stay silent and wait for Hershel to be finished with Daryl or go with Willy to check on Abilene?

I shifted, weighing the pros and cons of each choice.

Abilene had two people to keep an eye on her, only I was with Hershel and Daryl. She should be fine until Hershel gets done.

I would stay.

You are full of surprises, Abilene. I thought, resuming my watch.

*~Abilene~*

I sat in the shade beside the clothes line, listening to the wind and relishing the fresh burst of air. I heard the exact moment Willy was outside.

"Abilene! Are ya okay? Did ya hurt yer knuckles or anythin'? Do ya need anythin'? Glass of water, hug, Hershel?" He ranted in near manic concern.

I couldn't help but laugh. "I'm alright, Willy. I might have to avoid Andrea for awhile, but I'm okay."

"Ya want some company or anythin'?" He asked, eyes smiling but trying to keep a blank face because he knew my outburst embarrassed me.

"Hey, dork, don't you have chores to do?" I giggled, but he got an A for effort. He really was trying hard to be supportive.

Willy blushed, honest to god blushed.

Wait a minute.

I narrowed my eyes. "Willy Ray Pickens. What did you do?"

He flinched, looking for all the world like a guilty child caught with his hand in the sweets jar before dinner.

I stood up, then I placed my hands on my hips, raised my eyebrow and tapped my foot.

"I might have asked Jimmy an' T-Dog ta cover me so I could keep an eye on ya until Hershel is free ta check ya over." He blurted, cringing expectantly as soon as he finished.

I blinked.

"I know ya don't like it when I make a fuss, but we should be sure in case ya hurt somethin' cause ya don't always admit when yer hurtin' or uncomfortable." He continued like he was confessing all his sins before God himself.

I sighed. He was right, I had a habit of ignoring things because I don't like the fuss I'd cause. It was embarrassing sometimes and not always necessary.

"Since you're here, can you make me a fruit salad? I think I'm ready for a snack and a nap." I murmured, shifting uncomfortably. The fight with Andrea had tired me out, but I hadn't wanted to say anything. After what Willy said, I decided to reconsider.

"Of course, ya never have ta ask." He agreed, like I knew he would. He was so good to me, even though I sometimes wasn't too nice due to hormones.

I would be eternally grateful to that man.

It was awkward, passing Andrea and Rick on the porch. Carol had gone inside at some point. I walked up the stairs, blushing like a tomato whenever someone looked at me. I couldn't reach my bedroom quickly enough.

I sat on my bed and pulled the sheets up to cover my lap.

Willy brought me the salad shortly after, sitting on the end of bed. He talked to me about Daryl's condition and the gossip about me attacking Andrea spreading through the house as well as the camp.

I blushed, ducking my head.

"It's not a big deal, Abi. She was in the wrong an' ya wanted ta help her understand what she did had consequences, that there could be worse consequences than the ones she landed with." He said quietly, his eyes unfocused as he drifted. His thoughts and mind further away, lost in memories of another time and another place.

I swallowed, mine following. Pictures of people and places floated in front of my eyes, replacing the plate of half eaten food sitting on my lap. I lost my appetite.

"Hey," the familiar husky voice murmured, a warm hand enveloping my smaller one.

I blinked, raising my head and attempting a smile.

It must have a sad, forlorn little thing, because his eyes were also sad and tinged with concern.

"Ya should eat. The dead an' the past can keep."

I ate mechanically, forcibly filling my head with happier images of different times to counter the bad. Soon, my plate was clean and I was laying down, yawning.

"If anythin' happens, holler fer me an' I'll get Hershel." Willy told me seriously, kissing me on the forehead.

"I will, promise." I whispered, already dozing off.

I almost didn't make it to the toilet when I woke up, but thank goodness I did.

"Is a bonfire really a wise choice, Rick?" Shane growled, his voice low and strained. "You know as well as I do that walkers are drawn to the light. The fences will only keep out so many walkers before the whole damn thing breaks and a herd comes through."

"We need to think about mental health, too. If these people become too involved, too stressed, too hopeless they could want to give up. We need a night without fear, all of us." Rick insisted, hearing none of Shane's bull. "We can shield the fire against the walkers, but this is happening."

I was really hungry, but I didn't want to interrupt. The last thing that would help my case with Shane is him thinking I had eavesdropped on them. Accident or not, it wouldn't matter. He hated me and would use any excuse to get rid of me.

I waited, impatiently, while they walked back toward Daryl's temporary room.

Which reminded me, I wanted to check on him myself.

Maybe I could bring him food since I was going to go to the kitchen anyway? But I didn't know what kind of food he liked. Did he have any food allergies? Was he lactose intolerant or had any other dietary special needs? I guess I could bring him a bit of everything and he could choose what he wanted. I also needed to ask permission to put his clean clothes in his tent so other people could use the line.

I knew he was big on his privacy and wouldn't appreciate anyone walking into his tent, whether he was laid up in bed or not. He was the kind of man that could hold a grudge and keep it for a very long time. He also would most likely shoot trespassers if he caught them, unless they were lost children.

I felt wrong about invading his privacy, but he didn't know me so he didn't know that.

I thought back to the bonfire as I descended the stairs. I doubted that I was invited, because no one had approached me and I had attacked a member of Rick's group. The fact that it had been in response to a shooting, didn't matter. I was an outsider who attacked a group member, end of story.

I still thought about crashing the bonfire. My conversation with T-Dog before Andrea shot Daryl replayed in my mind.

He was right.

Carl was still on bed rest, so I wouldn't have to worry about that.

There was a chance my idea would blow up in my face. Shane would hate me more, and there was a chance the rest of the group wouldn't want anything to do with me after tonight.

I made a plate with leftover baked chicken breast, roasted ham with pineapple slices, mashed potatoes, green beans, Mac and Cheese, and some sliced fruit. I heaped the plate high, thinking whatever he wouldn't want or couldn't eat, I would. Everything on the menu was something I could eat and wasting food was not an option these days.

I knocked on the door to Daryl's temporary room, listening for his movement as well as his reply.

"What do ya want?" He called out gruffly.

I cracked the door so he could hear me better. "It's Abilene. I brought you some food, in case you were hungry."

"Come in if yer comin' in." He groused.

I see the injuries and near death experience hadn't changed him much. He was still gruff and trying his best to act like he was made of marble. Neither surprised me.

He was covered in a blanket from the neck down when I walked in. That did surprise me, but only a little.

"I didn't know what you liked or if you had allergies, so I brought a little of everything." I explained when he scowled at the plate. I set the plate down on the small bedside table and backed away. He didn't immediately start eating and I was getting nervous, because I didn't know what was in the food exactly, so I could still accidentally kill him.

"Whatever the hell is making ya think so damn hard, quit." He snapped, irritated.

"You don't have food allergies, do you?" I asked, ignoring his mood.

"How the hell should I know?" He dug in, tearing into the ham. "What d'ya care if I have em or not?"

"Maybe I don't want to kill you." I snapped, finally becoming agitated with his attitude. "Eat it, don't eat it, I don't care. I was trying to be nice to ya, ya asshole."

I stormed out of the room and felt a twinge of guilt for calling him names and getting cross when I was half way down the stairs. I sighed, carefully turning and doubled back, walking to his room.

This time I didn't knock.

He was picking at the plate when I entered the second time, his head snapped up as the door swung open. "I'm sorry I raised my voice and called you an asshole. I shouldn't have done that, even though you weren't a ray of sunshine yourself. You've had a bad day, you're injured and have a reason to be cranky. Rick is organizing a bonfire tonight, if you want to come."

I left Daryl, sure he didn't me standing around staring at him while he ate. I was unsure if he would elect to join. He wasn't exactly social, but he could have his own secretive motive for going.

There was also the matter of speaking up at the bonfire.

Each was a shot in the dark.

I went into Hershel's "office" for a quick checkup that told me what I already knew. I didn't injure myself during my embarrassing display earlier.

I decided to read in a nice little nook in the living room, since I was tired of being in my room. My book of choice was the final book in the Lord of the Rings series, The Return of the King. It was the saddest of the series, in my opinion, I always cried at the end.

I immersed myself thoroughly in the book until my protesting stomach growled and gurgle, drawing my attention to the fact that it was almost dark and the bonfire would begin soon.

I made myself a plate of baked leftovers, since Carol had to fry their meat with some unidentified canned substance. The smell of it made my stomach turn, and it was very obviously not healthy for me, so I declined as politely as I could.

Which, considering the fact that I was fighting the urge to throw up, was not as polite as I usually am to my shame.

I carefully carried my plate and glass of ice water outside, waddling down to the steps and over the lawn to the group gathered around the fire.

Everyone but Carl and Daryl were present.

Andrea sat between Glenn and T-Dog, Lori and Rick beside them. Shane and Dale were sitting on the tail ends of each half of the circle, though clearly they didn't like the seating. I stopped on the outer edges, hesitating.

"Hey, guys. Do you. . .um. . .do you mind if I join you?" I murmured, glancing at each fact to try to guess if they wanted me there.

Shane glared at me, the dark gleam in his eyes unsettling. He was looking at me like I had single handedly shot Carl and declared that the rest of them were next on my hit list. Andrea stared at the ground in front of her resolutely. The rest were smiling or nodding and gesturing for me to join them.

"Here, let me." Glenn, the sweetheart that he is, jumped up from his spot and piled a spare chair with pillows.

"Oh, no, that's not necessary. I can find a comfy spot in the middle somewhere." I waved him off, not wanting to take his chair from him.

He froze, then quickly turned around looking horrified and panicked. "You can't sit on the ground! You're pregnant! You need somewhere softer, more comfortable and supportive for your changing body. Your brother is going to kill me if you don't take my chair, so please take it."

"Thank you, Glenn, that was so thoughtful." I conceded, smiling at him.

"It was just-you know women in your-it wasn't-you're welcome." He rambled, finally settling on the proper response to 'thank you'.

I sat down in the chair he had prepared for me. It was comfortable and supported my back.

"We were sharing a few stories about life from before." Glenn informed me, producing a chair from behind a nearby tree. "We haven't heard from you, yet. How about it? What did you do before?"

I realized that Willy and I haven't shared much about ourselves with the group. We should change that if we're going to establish trust.

"Willy and I were going to buy a farm." I blushed when T-Dog raised his eyebrows.

"I can see it. You are good with the animals and seem happy here beyond the fact that it's safe. From what I've seen Willy could swing the manual labor involved with the larger animals and work the land." Rick commented, leaning forward in his seat. "Was there a farmhouse like Hershel's in the plan?"

"Yes. There was a porch swing and a wrap around porch." I sighed, picturing it. "It needed a little bit of work, but it wouldn't cost too much and it was perfect for us."

"What did I miss?" Willy called as he trotted over to us, loaded plate in one hand and a glass of ice tea in the other.

"I was just telling them about the farm." I answered, smiling at him. I hadn't seen him much today after my nap. "How was your day?"

"Not so bad. There weren't any walker sightings, none of the fences were broken, the equipment we have available still works like a charm and I didn't lose any of Hershel's cattle today." Willy answered, stretching in his seat with a groan. "How ya feel? Did the nap help?"

"So much." I bit my lip and glanced at the others, remembering what I had promised myself earlier.

No time like the present.

I motioned Willy to scoot his chair closer to me. If I was going to do this, I would need the support.

He obeyed, titling his head curiously, but he didn't comment.

"T-Dog, do you remember when you asked about his father?" I checked, stroking a hand over my stomach.

T-Dog nodded hesitantly.

"Do you remember what I told you?" I caught the confused glances from the group. Shane was glaring at me with narrowed eyes, immediately suspicious of my questions.

"That it's complicated and you might tell me once you knew us better." He answered with a confused frown. "What-"

"I have decided to change my answer. I realized something when Daryl was shot." I paused, thinking back to that moment. How it felt to think he was dead. "This might be the best I know any of you. Right now. Anytime, anywhere, one or more of us could die-from anything."

Stray nods met my short speech.

"I decided that now is the best time to share." I spared a look at Lori and Rick. "It's better if Carl isn't here, Lori. I'm not telling you this to be cruel, it's the truth. You wouldn't want him to hear. Some things are worse than being eaten alive by the dead."

She frowned, curious and still offended. I ignored that in favor of keeping my breaths even.

"My birth name is Anastasia Treskov. My parents weren't nice people. I was adopted by Willy's family when I was around eight." I trailed off, lost in the memories.

Willy wrapped a supportive arm around my shoulder and squeezed gently. The pressure kept me centered and reminded me that they were only memories. They couldn't hurt me anymore.

"What does that have to do with your kid?" Shane spat with a sneer.

Andrea and Glenn glared outright at Shane. T-Dog and Dale shook their heads at the disrespect. Willy tensed beside me hands clenched. Rick sighed like he had put several tons on his shoulders and Lori ignored all of them.

"If ya'd shut yer mouth ya'd know." Willy hissed at the former cop.

"Willy, please." I murmured softly, squeezing his hand. There had been enough animosity today.

Shane was a man who used to have a good soul, but it was tainted and changed by the new world. Willy still had a gentle spirit and a kind soul, even after all this. I didn't want him to become like Shane.

Willy ground his teeth, but settled back into his seat and rubbed the curve of my shoulder.

"Lets get back to the story, shall we?" I subtly looked pointedly at Shane. Not another word, I said with my eyes. "I finished my childhood with Willy and there were the teenage years. Anyway, I went out with a small group of my college friends to celebrate graduating."

Willy's hand tightened its grip and his body grew tense again. He knew the ending of this story.

"I made the mistake of taking a drink my girlfriend gave me. I thought she'd bought it while I was dancing, but someone had given it to her and she was allergic to one of the ingredients. I didn't feel anything at first, didn't notice anything off about it. It wasn't until I got dizzy and lost the ability to move on the way back from the restroom that I knew." I had to stop for a moment. I needed a breath.

A few of the women gasped. T-Dog's eyes widened, Glenn was gaping in shocked horror and poor Dale looked like he wanted to weep. Rick looked like he was torn between throwing up and being angry.

Willy was vibrating next to me.

"The fist few minutes were confusing and unclear. I couldn't move, so I didn't see who grabbed my feet and dragged me through the back exit of the bar. I could hear laughing and at least three voices. It didn't take long to realize that I recognized the one that seemed to be the leader, even with four of them there." It was getting harder to speak around the lump forming in my throat and tears were burning in my eyes. "He . . . sold me to someone and I was raped."

"Abi, ya can stop if ya need ta. Ya don't have ta tell them the rest." Willy assured me with a trembling voice. He couldn't stand to see me in pain, he told me once he'd rather cut out his beating heart than see me hurting in any way.

"I can do it." I ignored the pity on a few faces in the group and squared my shoulders. I was strong. I could do this.

In. Out. In. Out.

"That happened and then they took turns. I wasn't surprised that he didn't recognize me, it had been at least twelve years and he was drunker than six skunks. The last time he saw me. . .was when the social service agents drove off with me." I rushed through the last bit, ashamed and half hoping the group wouldn't catch it.

My hopes were for naught. The reaction was immediate.

"Your father? You got. . .he . . .your father sold you?" Rick choked on every word, his horrified face pale as a sheet and quickly tinting green.

Glenn, T-Dog, and Andrea had similar choked, stringy responses. Dale looked like he wanted to weep for me or hug me. Lori was gaping at me, horrified. Carol was staring at me with wide eyes but didn't speak. Shane was silent for another reason entirely.

"What the hell're y'all makin' those faces for?" A rough southern voice growled as the owner limped up to the fire.

I turned as well as I could to greet Daryl. "I was sharing the story of how I got pregnant."

"That's putting it mildly." T-Dog muttered, running a hand over his face.

"I caught the bar thing an' some of the adopted bit. That don't mean they gotta be lookin' atcha like that." Daryl commented in his rough voice, gesturing at the group. "What happened weren't yer fault. He was a sick man who enjoyed hurtin' other people, that's his problem."

My heart warmed in my chest, and I felt a smile split my face. I appreciated that he didn't look down on me or pity me like the group was.

I could sense an almost imperceptible change between me and the hunter. Something had shifted, however small and seemingly insignificant.

Daryl Dixon was a good man, and he was beginning to show his colors. Little by little.

I wouldn't rest until I saw him at his full potential.