'Motorcycle mechanic,' Beth suddenly said out of the blue as they traipsed single file through the woods. The mid afternoon sun slanted through the trees, but the shade cut the heat to something bearable.

Daryl glanced back over his shoulder. 'What?'

'That's my guess for what you used to do before the turn. Did Zach ever guess that one?'

Daryl walked on in silence. 'Ain't matter,' he eventually said. 'Ain't mattered for a long time.'

Beth shrugged, trudging behind him. 'It's just what people talk about. What they used to do, before everything changed.'

Daryl grunted and kept walking.

'What about you Asha,' Beth asked. 'You must have had a guess at what Daryl did?'

Asha smiled a little sadly to herself. 'Nope.'

'Really?'

She shook her head, idly scanning the depressing sameness of trees surrounding them. She could think of two reasons someone wouldn't want to talk about what they used to do – either they were ashamed of it, or they'd never done any one thing long enough to bother claiming it.

Both suited Daryl perfectly.

'Daryl's right,' she answered. 'It doesn't matter any more.'

'You don't miss being a lawyer?' Beth asked.

Asha laughed. 'Occasionally I guess, but to be honest there was a lot about it that I didn't like much in the first place.'

Beth frowned a little to herself and they lapsed into silence.

Asha had a feeling of vague familiarity as they walked through the woods, but she brushed it off. The whole backwoods of Georgia felt familiar these days - familiar, without being distinguishable enough for her to be able to place them as being anywhere in particular.

It wasn't until she saw the shack sunk in the shadows beneath the trees that she realised that these woods were in fact familiar.

She took a few quick steps past Beth, grabbing Daryl by the arm. 'What are we doing here?' she asked, voice low and urgent.

Daryl's eyes narrowed at her before he looked meaningfully at her hand on his arm. She jerked it away.

'There's a still out the back.' He glanced over his shoulder at Beth before giving a tiny shrug. Asha's frowned. 'How do you know? We didn't go inside last time.'

'I know.'

Beth had noticed the dilapidated structure. 'Ah…I was expecting a liquor store?' she said.

'Nah, this is better,' Daryl said, striding away through the dappled shadows towards the shack.

Asha shrugged noncommittally at Beth's enquiring glance.

Daryl had paused on the sagging porch, and he waited until Asha and Beth joined him, weapons in hand, before pounding a fist against the rickety door frame. They waited the requisite long moments before shoving the door open.

If Asha hadn't been looking for it, she probably wouldn't have noticed the way Daryl's jaw rippled before he stepped through the shadowed doorway - as though he'd steeled himself to put his hand in a naked flame.

They went through their usual routine, sweeping the rooms – Daryl with crossbow raised and Asha close at his back. Beth waited at the door, semi automatic in hand, under strict instructions not to use the last of their bullets unless there was no other option - and to think twice about it even then since she'd have as much chance of hitting Daryl and Asha as anything else if they were swarmed.

The shack was clear of the dead. The haphazardly boarded up windows suggested someone had been there at some point since the world had ended, but not for a while though. Asha's nose wrinkled at the sour air. She watched Daryl from the corner of her eye as he hesitated for an instant before kicking open the only internal door in the combined kitchen/dining/living sort of space they were in. She assumed it led to a bedroom. An instant later he strode back past her, out through the kitchen to the small extension built off the back of the shack.

Asha waved Beth in.

'It smells,' the young woman said.

Asha nodded, looking around at the dirty walls and derelict furniture littering the space. 'It does,' she agreed. She dropped her pack on the floor, sighing briefly with relief at relinquishing the weight, and started aimlessly opening the kitchen cupboards. She didn't really expect to find anything, and she wasn't surprised.

Daryl nudged open the back door, arms full of a crate of jars of clear liquid.

His eyes were dark, jaw still tight as he set the crate on the lone rickety table. The tension rolled off him in palpable waves and Asha watched him carefully, wondering if Beth noticed it – hell, if Daryl even noticed it.

Beth's gaze was locked on the crate. 'What's that?'

'Moonshine,' Daryl grunted.

Her eyes, hooked like a fish on a line, followed Daryl's hands as he lifted a jar and unscrewed the lid. Asha's eyes smarted at the alcoholic reek that filled the air. She had a sudden urge to drink the entire crate and sink the world into oblivion.

Beth rather tentatively approached the edge of the table.

Daryl sloshed some of the clear liquid into an empty jar. 'That's a real first drink right there,' he said in his gravelly voice, looking pleased with himself as he pushed it in with a finger in Beth's direction.

He glanced at Asha, asking, as he lifted the jar microscopically. She nodded, a tiny inclination of her head, and he poured a measure of the moonshine into a second jar.

Beth lifted her jar cautiously, nose wrinkling at the smell.

'What's the matter?' Daryl asked, when after a moment she still hadn't moved.

'Nothing,' Beth said. 'It's just my dad always said bad moonshine can make you go blind.'

'Ain't nothin' worth seeing out there anyway.'

Beth hesitated still, jar still lifted to her nose.

'Hold on a sec,' Asha said. She dug around in the kitchen until she found a spoon, slopping a little moonshine on it from her own jar and cleaning it on her shirt as best she could. Then she wrapped the end of the spoon in her shirt and swirled it around in her jar, catching up a bit of the clear liquor.

She held a hand out to Daryl. 'Lighter.'

He set it in her hand. 'Ya be fuckin' careful with that,' he said seriously.

Asha arched both her brows, but she backed away from the crate and open jars before sparking the lighter and quickly touching the flame to the spoon. A sudden blue flame licked across the concave metal surface. Asha watched it closely, but the flame stayed a clean blue, untainted by the red or sickly yellow shades she was looking for. It burnt brightly for a few moments, before shrinking away to nothing. Asha dropped the warm spoon on the ground, shaking out the end of her shirt.

'Well, at least we won't get lead or fuel poisoning,' she said.

She handed Daryl back his lighter and picked up her jar swirling the liquor around. 'Of course, that doesn't tell us anything about whether there's methanol in it.'

She lifted the jar to her nose but couldn't smell anything beyond the alcoholic burn, so she shrugged and swallowed, careful to keep her mouthful small and her face blank – she didn't want to ruin the surprise for Beth.

The young blonde watched her, and when she put down the jar and smiled, Beth picked up her own jar and tilted it somewhat tremulously to her lips and swallowed. Then she set it back on the table, face twisting.

'That's the most disgusting thing I've ever tasted,' she declared.

Asha grinned, and the corner of Daryl's mouth lifted a mere fraction.

'Ya ain't drink it for the taste,' he grunted.

Asha lifted her own jar again, this time not bothering to hide the grimace as the liquid seared down her throat.

'How'd ya know about the trick with the flame?' Daryl asked.

She swirled her jar, watching the liquor spin. 'You don't bartend in a dingy bar in the south without overhearing a whole lotta conversations about moonshine - drinking moonshine, making moonshine, testing moonshine. Figured it was worth a try.' She raised her brows at him. 'How'd you know about the still?'

Daryl looked around, the distaste clear on his face. 'My dad had a place just like this, still and all.' He looked back at her. 'I could'a told ya there weren't no lead in it. Still's clean. No car parts.'

Asha rolled her eyes, 'Well you could have said.' She considered him speculatively. 'You know how to make this stuff?'

'Somethin' like it.'

'Hmmm.' She made a noncommittal sound, storing that piece of information away for later.

Beth had continued drinking whilst they spoke, and she took another gulp setting down the near empty jar. 'It gets better,' she said, reaching for an empty jar and pouring another slug.

'Yeah, well, slow down,' Daryl grumbled.

'This one's for you,' Beth said smiling and holding out the jar.

'Nah, I'm good.' Daryl turned away from the unsteady table to look out one of the windows.

'Why?'

'Someone's gotta keep watch.'

'So what, you're like my chaperone now?'

'No-one's suggesting we drink ourselves into oblivion,' Asha said – tempting as the idea might be. Then she grinned at Beth. 'Of course Bethy, I won't consider that you've been properly introduced to drinking until you've vomitted and passed out in the corner.' She took another swig from her jar.

'Ewww,' Beth said, screwing up her face.

Daryl was still frowning at them. Beth waggled the jar at him. 'Come on Daryl.'

'Nah, ya got Asha to drink with.'

'So you're like both our chaperone now?' Asha asked, raising her brows and feeling a momentary irritation at the criticism implicit in the suggestion they needed watching.

'Just, drink lots of water,' Daryl snapped, stomping through the kitchen to keep watch out the back door.

'Yes Mr Dixon,' Beth said, turning on her heel with twisted lips. She slumped against the far wall, sullenly lifting her jar again.

Her petulant attitude and bowed blonde head suddenly reminded Asha so much of Ren when she didn't get her own way that she shivered. She abruptly needed to get out of the shack and away from Beth and Daryl.

She put her partially depleted jar next to Daryl's untouched one. 'Actually water's a good point. There's a stream only about few minutes out that way right?' She pointed past Daryl out the back door and he nodded stiffly.

Asha rummaged through her pack, pulling out a few empty water bottles and depositing a half full one on the table. 'I'm gonna go fill these up.'

'I'll go,' Daryl said.

'No.' Asha glanced over at Beth. 'You're on chaperone duty remember.'

Daryl gave her a flat look – and Beth frowned at her – but neither of them tried to stop her as she headed out the door.

Fifteen minutes or so later, she screwed the top on the last filled bottle. The stream was small, only a foot or so deep at most, and even then only in a few spots. It gurgled gently, the water clear where it ran rapidly over the rocks. Asha dropped the last bottle beside her on the rocky bank and watched the shifting light on the water's surface. She scooped a handful of water, sluicing it across her face and the back of her neck, the liquid delightfully cool where it dribbled between her shoulder blades.

The bandage wrapped around her injured left hand was filthy, and she stripped it off, scrubbing the crustiness away in the water. At least they had enough water for her to boil up the bandages to sterilise them before rewrapping it.

Her brow furrowed as she looked at the puckered ridge across the back of her hand. Surely those stitches needed to come out by now? She wasn't even sure how long it had been since they'd fled the prison. Couldn't be more than two weeks surely? Still she didn't think stitches were supposed to stay in that long. She gingerly clenched her hand into an almost fist, feeling the tightness pull across the back of her hand. God knew where she was going to find something to pry the stiches out with.

Sighing, she held both hands palm down against the surface of the water, letting the motion caress her skin. The sensation calmed her, and as she stared blankly at the shifting liquid tickling her skin, she slowly relaxed in a way she hadn't since before meeting Seth. She couldn't say how long she sat there, the sounds of the water and woods washing over her, even as part of her brain stayed alert to the risk of approaching walkers. She suddenly recalled the day she's spent at the river fishing with Daryl. The memory filled her, glowing against the otherwise dark smear of her memories since the turn. She savoured it, before smiling sadly as she wondered if Crookshanks had managed to survive the raid on the prison.

'Course he did,' Merle drawled from the other side of the creek. 'Damn cat's a survivor.' Asha jerked, heart pounding painfully as she looked at her grizzled friend, smirking as he lounged against a tree.

'Hello Merle.'

'Hello girly.' The silvery haired man pulled a ready rolled joint from his pocket and lit it, sucking in a deep breath and blowing out a long stream of smoke. 'So, decided whether or not ya gonna roll over and give up?'

'I'm reserving my right to make that decision later.' Asha half snorted and scrubbed wearily at her eyes. 'It's tempting sometimes Merle, more tempting than it should be.'

She was a little ashamed to admit it.

Merle snorted derisively. 'Gotta tell ya girly, never thought wallowing in self-pity was ya style.'

Asha's back stiffened. 'That's not fair,' she snapped. 'Don't I even get a chance to grieve?'

'Is that's what it's called? Sure it ain't just sulking?'

'It's only been two weeks! Three maybe…At most'

'Ya want a tissue whilst you cry about it, sweetheart,' he sneered. 'Bah. A few weeks is a lifetime these days.' His eyes hardened. 'The world ain't ever owed you shit Asha. Never has, never will – and girly, you can be damn sure this new world is gonna keep dealing up trouble and pain for you. You gonna lose ya shit every time things don't go your way? Ya ain't no good to anyone in the state ya been in.'

Asha glared across the water at Merle – his eyes somehow still blue and piercing despite being bloodshot. He sucked in another long drag and exhaled across the water. Asha could have sworn she felt the smoke tickle her face.

'Fuck you, Merle,' she said quietly, bitterly, hating that he made sense – though of course he would make sense to her.

'If only we could baby doll,' Merle leered. 'But I don't reckon my baby brother'd be thrilled about us bumpin' uglies now.'

Asha felt her face go pink, but then her shoulders slumped and she suddenly wanted to cry. 'I don't think he'd care anymore,' she whispered.

Merle suddenly laughed uproariously. 'Then you ain't know him at all baby girl.'

'I really fucked up Merle. He thinks I blame him for Nash and I don't know if anything I ever do will be able to take that weight back off him. I've tried to talk to him, but he just shut me out.'

Merle snorted. 'What? Were ya expectin' my brother to act like a well adjusted individual? Talk about his feelings and shit?'

She frowned. Not exactly of course, she wasn't an idiot.

'Ya gave up to easily girly. My brother's got a head like a piece of wood. Sometimes ya gotta beat on it a while for anything to sink in.'

Asha stared, a little nonplussed, and Merle stared back, grinning like she was the idiot she was starting to feel like. She'd known she'd have to be the one to bridge the gap between her and Daryl. Why hadn't she pushed it harder?

'What's this about you and his brother?' Asha shivered as Nash's rough twang rippled across the water. He brother strolled out between the trees and plucked the joint from Merle's hand, taking a drag before turning to face her. Heart aching, Asha rubbed the suddenly streaming tears from her cheeks, trying to clear her vision so she could drink in the familiar lines of her brother's face.

'Bloody hell Ash,' Nash drawled. 'You're a damn mess. Is this really the best you can manage?'

'Oh, I'm sorry,' she snapped facetiously, half snorting as she choked on her tears. 'Did you just watch the back of my head get blown out?'

Nash touched the back of his head and for an instant, when his hand came, away his fingers were flecked red and brown there was a dark hole in the centre of his forehead – but then he waggled his fingers and it was gone.

'Yeah, well, that wasn't exactly my idea.' He shrugged and inhaled another lungful before handing the smouldering joint back to Merle. 'But shit happens sister dear.'

She looked into his clear green eyes, and swallowed hard.

'Doesn't it just.'

The three of them stared at each other for a moment.

'So,' her brother continued casually. 'Just about done with your sulking fit?'

'Why are you both picking on me?' She felt surprisingly injured.

'Dunno Ash. You tell me.'

She looked down at the water, gurgling peacefully and sparking gently with refracted sunlight. She deserved it, she knew. Even she was sick of the person she'd become lately. Didn't make it any easier though.

'Is it so bad just to want it all to go away sometimes?' she said softly, without lifting her gaze.

'Nah,' Nash murmured just as softly. 'But that isn't the answer. Once everything's gone, it's gone. It isn't better or worse. It's just nothing.'

Asha sighed, still looking at the shifting water.

'Besides,' her brother's voice was still quiet, but it had acquired a note of iron. 'Didn't you learn anything when you tried your own style of oblivion after dad died.'

She flinched, looking up. Merle was looking away into the trees, affording them some semblance of privacy. Nash's eyes were hard, hard as her own as she glared resentfully back. Not the proudest period of her life, but at the time she'd sought solace at the bottom of a bottle and fairly indiscriminately in male company. She felt ashamed all over again at the state Nash had found her in, and the much needed tough love he'd given her at the time.

'I'm gonna tell you the same thing I told you then,' Nash said quietly when she continued to stare at him in silence. 'You can be a victim of the things that happen in your life, or you can accept that even though you can't always control what happens to you, you're the only one who has control over how you react to it. You're better than this Ash. You survived that rail car. This…' he spread his arms wide. 'This is a walk in a park – if you just pull your head out of your arse.'

'Not a walk in the park,' she whispered.

'Well…maybe not. But you can still do it.'

She closed her eyes. For a moment she saw a pile of fish beside a sun kissed river and Daryl stretched out in the shade under a tree. Some of the tightness in her chest slowly loosened even though the heaviness didn't go away. When she opened them, Nash's green eyes and Merle's bloodshot blue ones were boring into her.

'Ok,' she said, rolling her shoulders and lifting her hands in surrender.

'Ok?' Nash said.

'I can't fight both of you.'

She was suddenly faced with matching smirks.

'You always were the smart one,' Nash said condescendingly.

Asha rolled her eyes, looking at the duplicate grins across the water. 'Yeah, well, I wouldn't be to too sure about that since I'm talking to my own hallucinations. But since you two are dead I guess that still makes you bigger idiots than me.'

'Harsh,' Nash grinned.

'Can she call us that?' Merle asked, stubbing out the last of the joint 'That ain't nice. What about respecting the dead and all that?'

'She's called me worse.'

'Ha, me too. Much worse. Besides, you are an idiot for taking that bet.'

'I'm her damn brother. Course I bet she'd see me first. Actually, I gotta tell ya Ash i'm a bit disappointed in you.' Nash gestured with a thumb towards Merle. 'Can't believe you wanted to see his ugly face before mine.'

'Shut up pretty boy,' Merle smirked.

'Of course I saw him first,' Asha whispered through her suddenly constricted throat. She waved at the empty space between her and her brother. 'You think this is easy for me.'

Some part of her had needed to see him, and needed his lecture. She stared at him, wondering if the details of his face would always stay locked as clearly in her memory as they were now.

'Come on,' Merle said scratching an armpit. 'Ya owe me a beer on account of that little bet, and she's got somewhere she needs to be.' Merle raised his brows at Asha, trademark half grin half leer settling on his face at. 'Ya take proper care of that little brother of mine girly.'

Asha nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. Nash lifted a hand in a silent farewell, lingering at the water's edge until Merle shoved him in the shoulder, starting them in the direction of the trees. Their banter drifted back between the branches before fading away altogether after a minute.

In the quiet that followed she suddenly realised Merle was right about her having somewhere else to be. She heard voices – angry raised voices – muted by the trees and the distance, but definitely coming from the shack.

Scooping up the bottles and bandages she raced back towards building.