Carl getting shot threw another wrench in the works. It was utter devastation; to have both children of the group thrown into jeopardy so close together was insanity. It was all you could see in the eyes of the survivors, the grief, the weight of it all. It was suddenly too much to bear.
For most everyone the farm was a welcome blessing. A chance to rest and regroup, care for the injured and let everyone recover mentally. They'd been running since the CDC, and it was exhausting. Finding the farm was also a curse. Letting your guard down like that was just asking for trouble; get too comfortable and when shit hits the fan again (and it will, it always does) you'll be too soft and content to react quickly enough to save your sorry ass.
Not Daryl Dixon. Fuck that shit. He'd come this far, survived this long, seemed a shame to get caught off guard by a geek and die like that.
Rather go out with a fight, shoot as many a the fuckers as possible, that's what it's gonna end up like. A blaze of fuckin' glory.
So he and Andrea went off in the woods to begin the search again, took off into the dark forest. Daryl would just as soon have gone alone, tell the truth, but it never hurt to have someone watch your back. Too bad it had to be the jumpy blonde girl, but at least she had an edge on her.
Shit, her sister died in her arms, have to be a fuckin' robot to not let that kinda thing get to you.
Andrea had seen how down and dirty the world was, she understood (at least in some small way) that keeping on your toes was the only way to keep living. Not that she was all that sure living was the thing to do.
Too bad she'd already given up on ever finding Sophia again. Given up on Sophia, and maybe herself.
That ain't no attitude to have. Giving up before you even begin. That's weak talk, fuckin' pussy ass quittin' talk.
Daryl wasn't the quitting kind. He told Andrea how he got lost when he was even younger than Sophia. He found his way out; took a while, but he found his way. There was a certain camaraderie to it, this walking and talking. Daryl even found himself laughing after a time, following Andrea's cue.
They didn't find anything that night though. Nothing except maybe a little bit better of an understanding of each other. Both of them hung up on lost girls, feeling more than a little lost themselves.
Ain't that just like humans. Survive the fuckin' apocalypse against all odds, the whole goddamn world dying around you, and you still find time to feel sorry for yourself.