The small settlement in the middle of the woods appeared like an oasis for the tired couple. The young man had looped his arm around his wife's and he held her up the best he could. She offered him an exhausted smile and her head dropped to rest on his shoulder as her hand slid down over his forearm, her fingers tangling up in his. Her other hand moved over to caress the gentle swell of her pregnant belly. She'd recently started feeling the baby move and she waited with eager anticipation for each time the light flutter came. "Maybe we should push through," she suggested softly. "The meeting point isn't too far from here, and we're already behind."

Her husband turned his head to look at her using his good eye while the one closest to her stared lifelessly ahead, milky, damaged, and unseeing. "He'll wait," he said decidedly. "I want to leave enough distance between us and that herd."

She nodded, her eyes flicking over the trampled snow before them. They had picked the herd off one-by-one until there was only about a dozen or so left. Eventually their group would meet up, closing the Dead off and then they would put the remaining ones down all at once. "I hope they found somewhere safe to have the baby," she mused, inspecting the buildings that sat in a clustered semi-circle.

The man beside her nodded towards the only intact building- a trailer that sat on an elevated platform off to their right. His wife paused, pointing to the footprints that led up the steps. "Some of the herd could've strayed off," he mused, unclipping his knife from his belt, deciding that it would be better to take care of them as silently as possible.

"They don't close doors behind themselves," the pregnant woman helped him to slide his weapon and bag off his shoulder. She lowered everything to the floor and looked nervously at the building. "Maybe we should push through," she repeated. "Could be that group from the south."

He didn't answer her, instead he pressed a chaste kiss to her cheek and crept forward, his feet feather light in the snow. She watched him go, her hand smoothing over their baby in a circular motion as she waited.

The wooden steps were creaky under his feet and he paused, noting the crimson stained snow on the railing. He listened for the sound of any movement inside, and hearing none, continued up the steps. The handle released under his hand and the door swung open, revealing an office space that had been inhabited not too long before. His eyes swept over the desks and cabinets, and then settled on two Styrofoam bowls stacked on the floor next to a couch. A blanket was draped over the cushions and the arm of the couch and he wondered what had chased the people off in such a hurry. It was possibly the herd moving through the area, though the room didn't look ravaged.

He spotted two backpacks next to the door and he squinted at the smaller pink one for a moment before turning around and stepping outside onto the porch. He waved his wife over then turned to search the surrounding camp for any sign of the people who had been staying here. Whoever they were, they seemed to be long gone - probably dead. He hoped they had some food. It had been too long since his family had had a decent meal.

When she came to the stairs he took his things from her and waited until she passed him. Once she was inside he followed her in and placed his bag and crossbow on the floor next to the door. He snapped the lock in place and watched his wife explore the room, her hands bracing her lower back. "Check for food," he nodded to the bags.

Her head turned first to look at him over her shoulder. Pink lips, chapped with cold turned upwards into a small smile, her large blue eyes filled with the shadows of the room. "I hope there are some peaches," she laughed softly. "I miss peaches the most."

The man's eyes rolled. "It was bacon last week. And salmon the week before that," he returned her smile and started to do a perimeter check to make sure the room was secure. He'd sleep better knowing it was locked up. "Like my mother," he said, his voice steady. "Remember? She was always wanting something."

"Cravings," the woman remembered, nodding. She shrugged and sighed when he didn't respond, then made her way over to the bags against the far wall. She started with the larger one and pawed through it. There were plenty of useful supplies but no food. She checked the small pink bag next and found several jars of preserved vegetables. The other pockets were mostly empty except the front one where she found a small knife and some slips of paper. Curiously, she pulled them out, her eyes widening at the discovery that they were two photographs. Her long blonde ponytail whipped over her shoulder as she held them up. "Carl."

Her husband lifted his head in alarm and then relaxed. He looked at the pictures in his hand curiously. "Almost had a Walker on your hands," he grumbled. "Scared me to death."

Beth pushed herself to her feet and made her way over to him, offering him the pictures in her outstretched hand. He took them from her, his eyebrows drawing together. "Why would someone have these?" He looked up at her then back down at the pictures. He stared at them in silence for a long time. When he finally spoke his voice was tight. "I'd forgotten what she looked like." Carl cleared his throat and looked at her for a split second before his gaze flicked away as he fought to bury the emotions. "How could I forget that."

His wife reached up to wipe off his cheek the stray tear that he hadn't even realized had fallen. Her hand slid over his cheek to cup his face, her own head tilting tenderly. The moment was interrupted by the sound of something shifting on the other side of the room. The couple froze and waited until the sound came again. Beth turned her head slowly to look towards the far corner of the room at the desk furthest away. She nudged her husband lightly in the arm and pointed to the leg of the desk. The underside was closed in on three sides, but the metal frame stopped a couple of inches shy of the floor where they could see the tips of tiny fingers sticking out.

Carl moved to step forward and she put her hand on his chest to stop him. "It could be a Walker," Beth said.

Her husband took her hand and led her back over to the couch. He picked up the crossbow from next to the door and settled the butt of it against his shoulder. Raising it, he stepped in front of his family protectively. "Come out," he ordered, aiming the sharp tip of the arrow at the top of the desk.

Brown hair appeared first, followed by blue eyes that peered over the edge of the desk. At first Carl wasn't sure what he was looking at, and then she blinked. Slowly, he lowered the crossbow. "Come out. We won't hurt you," he promised, placing the crossbow on the floor at his feet.

Beth gasped from behind him. "She looks like-."

Carl held up a hand to silence her. He slid his hand into his pocket and pulled out the pictures that he had jammed into it. "These yours?" He asked, keeping his voice low so he wouldn't startle the little girl who nodded. "Where'd you get 'em?"

"Is my fam'bly," she told him, standing up so that the edge of the desk was at the same level as her chest. "Are you keep it?" She asked, pushing her bangs back off her forehead.

Carl felt tears well up in his eyes but he swallowed them back. Beth's hand came to rest on his elbow and he looked over at her briefly before lowering himself to his knees. "You can have it back," he told her, holding the picture out. "Maybe you can show it to me sometimes."

Judith stepped around the desk and cautiously made her way over to him, her gun cradled in her hands. She watched him warily, her eyes flicking between the picture and his face. When she was close enough she snatched the picture and took a hasty step backwards so that she was out of his reach.

"Are you here alone?" Carl asked her, looking over her long brown hair and the freckles on her nose. Her eyes were blue, identical to his own and their father's. When she remained silent he tried again. "Is anyone with you… Judith?" He tried the name out loud that he had picked what felt like a lifetime ago.

Judith sighed, frowning, her chin dropping. "Daryl go'ed ta get Beanie but not since a long time he didn't come'd back." Her lower lip trembled and she looked down at the floor, her eyes glistening with a hint of tears.

Carl reached for her, startling her and she stepped further away, her hands positioning themselves on the gun. He froze, holding his hands up. "Woah," the young man sat back on his calves. "It's okay. I'm not going to hurt you… I just want to help you."
The little girl's eyes showed her distrust and she looked him over suspiciously, the barrel of her gun pointed to the ground. "I wan' Daryl," she whimpered.

"I can help you find him," Carl promised. "My name is Carl… I'm your brother. The boy in the picture, that's me."

Judith looked skeptical at his assertion and juggled her gun awkwardly before she slipped it under her arm. With her hands free she looked between the picture and Carl, and then shook her head. "Yer lookin' not like that one," she finally concluded.

"Because I'm older now," he explained.

Her face lit up when she remember what Daryl had taught her about the word 'older'. "'Cause ya gotted more years on ya," she explained. "That means older."

A warm smile touched Carl's lips. "That's right." He inched his way towards her, holding her gaze. Once he was close enough he raised one hand, his fingers trembling as he removed the gun from her arm, careful not to startle her again. Wide eyed, she watched him, her mouth composed into a straight line. "Can I hug you?" he asked, tilting his head so that he could see her face.

"What that means?" Judith asked, holding the pictures out of his reach.

Carl eased his arms around her and guided her to his chest. She fit neatly against him, though her body remained tight and rigid. "Like this," he whispered into her ear.

After a moment she slid her arms around his shoulders and allowed him to lift her. Awkwardly, Carl got to his feet and Judith wrapped her legs around him, her hold tightening as though she didn't trust him not to drop her. Stepping backwards he he settled on the couch with Judith on his lap.

Beth took a seat beside them, tears sliding down her cheeks as she watched her husband get acquainted with his little sister. "Your dad is going to be so happy," she told him, her voice filled with emotion.

XXXX

Daryl watched through a thick haze as the Walkers were torn away from the cracking glass. The window over his right shoulder had caved in but nothing came through it. He turned his inky gaze down to his side where blood was steadily soaking through his side. Numb hands fumbled uselessly with his coat zipper but he couldn't seem to grasp it. The door beside him clicked and groaned as it swung open, shaking a small avalanche of snow free. He stabbed at the hands that reached for him until they closed around his wrist and ripped the small knife from his weak fingers.

"It's okay. We're not going to hurt you," a male voice assured him and Daryl froze as he recognized it. The face that he knew belonged to the voice appeared in his line of vision, though it was much more worn - aged beyond its years. Rick Grimes- the thought felt like he'd been socked in the gut. "Jesus, Daryl?"

Daryl's eyes swept the man before him as he struggled to understand what he was feeling; a combination of joy and fear, overwhelmed by the fear and adrenaline that had not yet left his system. He shoved the man's hands back, breaking their contact and he pushed himself free from the icy plastic seat of the logging machine. Stumbling out into the snow he landed on his hands and knees, sputtering with pain and words that jammed inside his throat like a fist.

Rick took a step back, settling heavily on his back foot, his hands resting on his hips in a habit that clearly died hard. "Jesus, Daryl," he repeated the words as though they had never been uttered before. His blue eyes flicked to the ground at his side and his face crinkled with emotion. Daryl followed his line of sight to find that Beanie had fallen from his pocket. The doll lay on her back, splayed out on the snow.

Rick's composure faltered as he looked around him, his eyes sweeping the dozen or so Walkers that he'd slain, their corpses oozing stinking black blood that looked like oil sprayed across the snow. "Where is she?" He asked, his hand coming up to thread his fingers through his hair. "W-where?" He swept the woods around them, his chest rising and falling, his eyes guarded as he visibly prepared for the worst.

Daryl reached for Beanie, his bloodied fingers wrapped around her chest, squeezing her underneath his grip. Grunting, he pushed himself upright, though he remained on his knees, bowed before the man before him, watching him crumble. Suddenly, Rick was on his knees too, his chest pressed to Daryl's, his fingers wrapped around his throat like a vice. "Where is she?" he screamed.

Daryl shoved the other man back, using his fist as a weapon. It collided with soft thwack against Rick's cheek, knocking the man onto his side. ``Where were you?" Daryl demanded, pushing himself to his feet. He stumbled backwards and tried to brace himself on the window of the machine, though his hand, slick with blood had no traction. He slid across it and landed on the ground again.

The two men stared at one-another, the woods silent besides the sound of their own panting breaths. Daryl winced again and tore his eyes away from Rick.

"Were you bit?" Rick asked, knee-walking over to his former second-in-command. He pushed Daryl's hands to the side and unzipped his coat.

Daryl shook his head. "Stabbed. Some jack-ass kid," he let his head fall back against the door behind him as Rick pulled open his coat and the cold air rushed in. The sudden blast helped to clear his head and the fog lifted a little.

Rick worked quickly over the wound as he applied pressure using his bare hands in an attempt to stem the flow. "I need something, a plastic bag. One second." He pushed himself to his feet and trudged away towards a hastily thrown pack. Daryl noted the other man's heavy limp and the way he favoured his right side. The way he crouched down, his hand bracing his right leg as he fell awkward to the ground. When he returned he had a plastic disposable lunch bag of some sort. As he brought it closer Daryl could smell it and he turned his face away, it reeked like-

"It's all I have," Rick offered him an apologetic look that relaxed Daryl. Perhaps the man had not changed that much. "I've been using it to keep my feet dry… I would-," he trailed off and unwrinkled the plastic.

"S'fine," Daryl muttered, biting back a groan as Rick wrapped the bag over his wound then dug through his pocket before pulling out a roll of silver duct tape. "She ain't dead… least not the last time I seen her," he ground out.

Rick's hands froze for a moment and his eyes stayed glued to Daryl's side. After a few beats he continued taping, his jaw ticking. "I came…" he said. "We all did… those of us who made it out." He shook his head. "They held us… for days. I-I could barely stand when he escaped… but we came and you weren't there."

"I went back every day," Daryl told him, dropping his chin to rest it against his chest. "We had to move on. There weren't no food left and-," he slid his shirt down to cover the make-shift bandage.

Their eyes met and a moment of understanding and forgiveness passed between them.

"Will you take me to her?" Rick extended his hand.

Daryl nodded, accepting the help up. "Hurts like a son'o'bitch," he grunted, wrapping his arm around his side. "You alone?"

Rick picked up his bag as they passed it. He fished around in the back pocket and pulled out a small fluorescent green arrow which he propped up against a tree, pointing in the direction that they were heading, the mark mostly concealed by snow.

"That for?" Daryl asked, nodding towards the arrow.

"Glenn and Maggie will be coming up from the east," Rick answered simply, slinging his bag over his shoulder. "Carl and Beth from the west," they fell into line with each other, shoulder to shoulder as they followed Daryl's tracks back towards the logging village. It was close to dawn now; the forest was will cast in thick shadow, but the sky had lightened to an Air Force blue. Daryl was hopeful that the sun would be warm enough to melt some of the snow.

"Andrea? Merle?" Daryl asked, keeping his eyes trained on ground before him.

The look Rick gave him was a telling one. The ex-deputy's shoulders sank and he sucked in a breath. "Aren't really sure," he said after a moment. "Haven't seen them since everything went down at the prison."

Daryl nodded and continued in silence, too weak to carry on the conversation any further. The wooziness that he had experienced earlier was back, swinging him like a pendulum and his stomach roiled. He kept his gaze fixed ahead for the most part, but occasionally he would glance to his side to assure himself that his company was not some phantom that he had created.

They came to the small community and Daryl paused, his eyes raking over the trampled snow. Something had come through here, and it hadn't come alone. He identified at least a dozen or so different treads on his first count, and determined them to be left by Walkers based on their erratic and inconsistent pattern. "Judith," he muttered and broke out into a run, ignoring the glancing pain in his side. Rick was close on his heels, but Daryl reached the trailer first. The door was locked when he jerked the handle and he breathed a sigh of relief. "Judith!" he called to her.

The door creaked open and he faltered as an arrow touched the tip of his nose through the small crack.

"You got my girl?" Daryl asked, reaching for the knife in his pocket. "Judith?" he asked, swallowing hard at the fear that gripped him.

The arrow jostled unsteadily and then moved back as someone barged into the space between the person wielding it and the gap in the door. Daryl looked down to see a small face appear and tiny fingers wrapped around the edge of the metal frame. Judith's face lit up as she looked him over, and she elbowed her way onto the porch, her stocking feet sinking into the snow.

She barely made a noise above a whimper before she launched herself towards him, her arms wrapping around his knees as she buried her face into his legs. "I gotted scareded 'cause you not come'd back." Judith whispered, clinging to him tightly.

"C'mere," he slid his hands under her arms and lifted her to his chest. Her arms weaved around his neck and she buried her face into his neck. The snow crunched on the top step behind him and he felt Rick's otherwise silent presence. Judith stiffened and she held onto him tighter. "Is he gonna hurt us?" She asked, her breath hot on his ear. The door had swung open and a young man and woman stood there. He recognized Beth immediately, her blue eyes a dead give-away. The other person took a moment though. Long gone were the freckled nose, rounded face and awkward gangly limbs of the preteen that he had known years before.

"Carl," he greeted, holding Judith tighter to him as he stepped past the couple to enter the office space. Rick followed him in and the small group stood in a circle, all unsure of what to do next.

XXXXX

Daryl shifted Judith onto his uninjured side, the bulk of her slight weight settling onto his hip. She tightened her arms around his neck at the movement and buried her face further into his shoulder. He could tell that she was nervous around so many new faces, and though he wanted to reassure her, he was proud that she maintained her distance from the people who were only strangers to her. In her new position she settled against him heavily, her body going limp as she drifted off to sleep, content that he had returned in one piece. Her left arm released its hold and slid back around his shoulder then over his chest, its journey ending when she plugged her thumb into her mouth.

"I, uh," Carl ran his hand over the back of his head, his deep voice wavering with uncertainty as he looked between his sister and father. "Maybe we should just get some sleep," he suggested.

Beth chimed in with a smile. "That's a great idea. I think we could all use a good nights rest so we can-," her blue eyes rolled toward the ceiling as she considered her next word choice. "Process everything," she finally finished, offering a nod towards Daryl as she passed him to go to Rick. "Come on, dad," one slender hand rested against the man's shoulder.

"Ya'll take the couch," Daryl shifted the sleeping girl again. "I'm gonna take that corner," he nodded to the one next to the counters where he had found the superglue.

Rick nodded and patted Beth's cheek affectionately then took a step back, his chest rising and falling with carefully controlled breaths as he tore his stone grey gaze away from his slumbering daughter's back. They all caught the hint of tears in his eyes, though no one acknowledged them until his back was turned, when Carl shot Daryl a loaded look, his mouth held in a straight line.

"Guess we will take the couch then," Carl finally said, his voice even, his hand sliding into his wife's. "Do you have anything we can eat? Beth hasn't had anything all day."

Daryl nodded towards Judith's bag. "Don't take it all," he snagged his and Judith's blankets from the couch and headed towards the corner that he had claimed for them, then paused at the corner of the closest desk. "Ain't nothin' in'nit," he kept his back to them. "Just used'ta sleepin' with me, tha's all it is."

With his piece said, he walked the rest of the way to the other side of the room, his boots falling heavily in the otherwise silent and still trailer. Each footstep made the muscles in his neck and arms tense up as he felt the others watching his retreating back.

He tossed the first blanket to the ground and lowered her onto it, supporting her head as he had done when she was still a rag-doll infant. She whimpered and her dazed eyes opened, peering up at him in confusion. "Shh," he smoothed her bangs back. "Look here," Daryl kept his voice to a whisper. Beanie came free from his pocket with a simple tug and his heart lifted as Judith's eyes widened. The little girl snatched the toy from him and pulled her into a tight hug, her eyes dancing with excitement.

"Beanie come'd back," her voice was hushed and muffled by the doll's wool hair and she snuggled her cheek into the brown strands, undeterred by the dirt and water stains.

Daryl toed his shoes off and then pushed his coat over his shoulders, leaving his discarded clothing in a pile on the floor. He ignored his blood-soaked shirt and laid down beside Judith, positioning her between himself and the wall, his back to the room. He could hear the couch springs squeaking as its occupants tried to arrange themselves on the narrow surface, and on the wall opposite him, he heard someone slide down to the ground.

Judith turned onto her side too and snuggled into his chest, Beanie squished under her curled arm. She sighed contentedly and fell asleep as Daryl pulled the second blanket over the top of them and tucked it in around her.

The loose gravel crunched under his feet as he made his way around the fence of the inner prison yard, his crossbow dangling from his hand. The night held no danger that he could detect and his patrol felt more like a leisurely stroll than a search for any threat. The fence had held its ground against the Walkers that tore at its chain-link and the inhabitants of the prison felt a sense of security for the first time in days.

So far they hadn't seen or heard anything from the Governor or his people, and they were all hopeful that the other man had gotten the message clearly that they were not a group to be reckoned with.

His exterior sweep completed, Daryl headed back towards their cell-block where he would pass off his shift to Maggie. He was mentally exhausted from his turbulent thoughts about his brother and what had occurred between them since discovering Merle was alive. Maybe after a good night sleep he would be more equipped to process and compartmentalize all of the emotions that were bubbling just under the surface of his placid exterior.

As he approached the west entrance he heard a soft sound and looked up to the fenced in overpass that joined their block with another building. A male figure stood there, cast in shadows, something bundled up in his arms as he swayed slowly, side to side. The man's daughter's cried sounded like a kitten mewing into the night, but the sound was not solitary. It was accompanied by her father as he sang to her, his voice a ragged weave that broke as it left his lips. "Someday we'll all be gone… But lullabies go on and on... They never die. That's how you- And I…Will be…"

Daryl looked up at the pair and stepped into the shadows to avoid being seen. He watched as the other man began to pace alone the length of the overpass, from one end to the other, humming the tune that clung to hopelessness.

"I tried not to love you," he finally said. "What kind of a father thinks that way?" One hand scrubbed his eyes and he laughed softly. "I kept thinking that I made her have you. I told her that that wasn't what I was doing, but I was." Rick stopped to look down at the baby who had fallen asleep, her mouth closed around one tiny chubby fist.

"I was going to keep her safe… and you too. I was going to keep us together. I promised myself that," the man whispered, his words hitching on a small sob. "And I didn't tell her that I loved her… she d-d-died, and I didn't-," his next breath shuddered as he spoke, his shoulders shaking. "Please let me keep you."

Daryl swallowed hard and steeled his eyes away from the scene unfolding before him. Slowly, he lowered his head and eased his way back into the night to do another sweep of the fence.

After a while the sound of a soft purring snore drifted over the room from the couch, and Daryl's own breaths evened out, lulling him into the early stages of sleep. The floor beneath him was hard and unforgiving but the events of the day and lack of sleep were catching up to him, pulling him into unconsciousness.

Judith had flipped onto her back, her thumb hanging loosely from her mouth, her eyelashes a perfect curve, settled onto her cheeks like butterflies wings. She scrunched her nose slightly as she dreamed, but she slept peacefully and solidly as only children do, her face absent of fear or worry.

Over his shoulder he heard fabric rustling as Rick shifted and settled. Daryl assumed the other man to be asleep too, until a hushed gravelly voice, filled with despair caught his ear.

"I found her, Lori."