I take no claim for any of the Walking Dead themes or characters.

Happy Thanksgiving to all those who are celebrating! I was able to write this pretty quickly with some free time from the holiday, so here you go! Thank you to all those who added this to story alert or even favorited. And a special thank you to those of you who reviewed. Reviews mean a lot to me :) Enjoy! And please let me know what you think!

Outside, Rick Grimes, unofficial leader of the group, paced the whitewashed floors of the porch. Rick's son, Carl, had apparently given up the sheriff's hat long enough so his father could wear it again. Daryl watched as Rick adjusted the hat on his head and let his head lower towards the ground. It was obvious the man was stressed. Dark circles had started to appear under his tired eyes, and the man hadn't shaved his beard in at least a week.

Putting his head in his hands for a moment, Rick closed his eyes before speaking, "Daryl, I realize you were well intentioned, but I'm going to need you to seriously think about your actions before you carry them out."

Shaking his head and furrowing his eyebrows angrily, Daryl replied, "What tha' fuck you talkin' 'bout?"

Rick pointed up to the door of the Hershel farmhouse, "That, Daryl," he lowered his tone and pulled Daryl lightly by the shoulder over to a part of the porch away from anyone possibly overhearing them. "We're in a tight spot here. Hershel is one step away from kicking us off this property, and you may have just sped that up."

"Are ya' kidding me? I find a wounded lady in the woods and what, I'm supposta' leave her there?"

Rick shook his head, "No, Daryl. You're supposed to be a little more polite, is all."

Daryl rolled his eyes, "You want me to kiss that old fuck's ass, is all."

Putting his hands on his hips, Rick backed up and looked towards the camp where his wife Lori sat on the picnic table eating dinner next to their son. Sighing, he responded, "Yeah, actually."

Infuriated, Daryl took a step to leave, but Rick held him back by the shoulder again, "Look, Daryl. I get it, I really do. It is just imperative that we stay on Hershel's good side. I don't really want to go back out there," he pointed back to the direction of the major cities and highways, "quite yet. I don't think any of us do. Please keep what I said to you quiet. If anyone else caught wind of what's going on right now everyone would panic, and I-," he paused and restarted, "we can't deal with that right now."

With a stern look, Daryl replied, "Yeah, right." He turned away from Rick and shoved his hand off of his shoulder roughly, then stalked out of the porch and onto the yard.

Rick sighed and watched the twenty-to-thirty year old stomp into his tent after chucking the small game he had caught today at Andrea. Andrea flipped Daryl the bird and got back in on the conversation taking place around the fire.

Guilt started to rise into Rick's stomach. There was just so much going on at this point, he didn't know if he could take any more drama. Lori was pregnant. He had to say it twice in his head to fully understand it. If Hershel kicked them out, he and Lori would be on their own for when the baby came. What would happen to the baby? Would Lori even make it through?

Wiping a bit of sweat off his brow, Rick pushed the thoughts out of his mind. That time would come in many, many months. For now they just had to keep living. Daryl had done some good today, saving that girl. Rick wasn't sure of how many survivors were left on this planet, but if they encountered anyone he knew he would do his best to help them out. And for some reason Daryl seemed attached to the girl. He could feel and see it almost immediately. The way he held her was so delicate, but so protective. Rick felt like he was watching himself with Lori. Whatever it was about this girl, maybe it would bring another side out of Daryl. Hopefully a less confrontational, softer side. Rick laughed. On what planet would that ever happen? Shaking his head with a soft smile, Rick walked inside the Hershel farmhouse to check on their newest addition to the group.

Daryl was in his tent, infuriated and enraged. Once his temper was set off he had a hard time turning it down. He had always been that way. Brushing a hand through his short, dark blonde hair, he kicked the side of the tent. He couldn't get the vision of the girl's face out of his head. All he wanted to do was run into that damn house and see her. It was stupid to sulk in here, but he was too prideful to leave for the moment. Sitting down on his sleeping bag, Daryl put his head in his hands and growled in anger.

Lori observed the scene around her quietly. She, Carl, Carol, Andrea, Dale and Glenn sat around the fire, either seated at the picnic table or on big rocks or tree stumps they had placed around the flames. Andrea was telling some ridiculous story about her college years, to which everyone but Lori was paying attention to. Shane was off watching the perimeter of the camp, as he normally did. As soon as Daryl ran onto the property Lori spotted him and the girl on his shoulder. With her hand on Carl's back while they ate dinner, she watched Rick follow after Daryl while he ran up and barged into Hershel's house. After Rick talked to him on the porch, which she couldn't hear but assumed the gist of the conversation, she discreetly watched Daryl stomp into his tent and start kicking things around and yelling.

Whoever the girl was that he brought in and whatever Rick had said to him was bothering him, that much was obvious. Did Daryl know how to express any emotion other than anger? Lori wasn't sure if he was capable of anything else. She hadn't seen him so worked up in a while though. Maybe the last time he was this upset was the whole Merle incident. Lori knew what happened to his brother was horrible, but she couldn't find herself caring. Merle was just too much of a jerkoff. Despite all this, Lori decided to be a silent spectator for now. She would pop in when she was needed, but for now all she could do was wait. Lori kissed Carl on the head and rubbed his back tenderly, joining in on the laughter around her.

The girl in the Hershel farmhouse awoke with a jump. It was nighttime by now, she could tell by the oil lamp lit next to her. It was freezing. She knew how cold it could get at night around here from when she was in the fishing shack. With no blankets or extra clothing, she often held herself in a corner at night to try and keep herself warm. She pulled the blankets someone had placed over her up to her chin and turned to her side trying to bunch her small body up to conserve heat.

"Ma'am?"

She jumped, eyes wide, and turned towards the voice. Holding the blankets even tighter around her, she squinted to observe the man sitting in a chair next to her bed.

He was tall, she could tell even while he sat down. Based on his clothing she knew he was a policeman. His hair was brown and slightly curly even though it was cut short. He was exhausted, both mentally and physically she could tell.

"Hi there. My name is Rick Grimes. How are you feeling?"

Staring at him with her icy blue eyes, she quietly replied, "A bit cold."

Rick jumped up and walked over to one of the dressers. He bent down and pulled out one of the drawers, retrieving a crocheted blanket, then turned around and spread it over the small form of the girl on the bed.

"Better?" He asked.

She nodded slightly.

Rick sat back down. "May I ask what your name is?"

"Eve."

With a smile on his face, Rick replied, "That's a beautiful name."

Eve smiled softly back, "Thank you, sir." She paused for a moment, and then spoke quietly, "May I ask where the man who saved me is?"

Rick's eyebrows rose in surprise for a moment. "Daryl? Do you want to see him?"

She nodded.

Standing up, Rick pushed the chair away from him a bit. "I'll go get him for you. Do you need anything before I leave?"

"No thank you, sir."

Rick smiled and shrugged his shoulders. He certainly wasn't expecting a wake-up like this. What a polite young girl. They had encountered much less friendly survivors in the past, so this was a nice change of pace. Walking out of the room and softly closing the door behind him, Rick traveled outside onto the porch.

"She woke up, I assume."

Rick turned to see the doctor, Hershel Greene sitting on one of the rocking chairs on the porch of his home.

Putting his hat back on, Rick nodded with a slight smile. "That she did."

"Why the surprise, Rick?"

Putting his hands on his hips, Rick laughed quietly and looked up towards the sky for a moment, "Well, I was barely able to get her name out of her before she asks me to get Daryl. Imagine that."

The old doctor folded his hands in his lap. "Only natural, I suppose. The young man saved her, after all. Despite his extreme testiness and rudeness, she was able to see another side of him today. That's special, right there."

Nodding, Rick agreed, "I guess you're right. But Daryl?"

The two men laughed before they said their goodnights and parted ways. Hershel had told him an hour or so previously, after he had finished looking over the girl, a bit of what he could tell had happened to her. The only physical wounds she had were a few scrapes and her badly swollen ankle. It looked as though she had twisted it several days to a week beforehand and had never gotten it looked at. Not surprising in these times. Maybe she had tripped and twisted her ankle, scraping her knees in the process. The Greene girls had washed her body of any dirt as best they could. She looked brand new. The men wondered where Daryl had picked her up anyways, but figured it would all come out in time. Did Daryl even know her true whereabouts? Probably not, they reasoned.

With his hands in his pockets, Rick walked towards the camp. Everyone was gathered around the fire. Shane was due back soon, and Rick was next on the list to provide lookout. Rick walked up to Lori and put his hand on her back. Not wanting to interrupt the conversation, he bent down and whispered into Lori's ear, "Can I talk to you for a second?"

Lori turned around and nodded, then quietly slipped away from the group and walked a short distance with her husband, hand in hand. "What's up?"

"How're you feeling?" Rick asked his pregnant wife.

Lori sighed, "I'm okay."

"Good, that's good."

"Rick, I know you pulled me out here to ask me something else." She smiled lightly and raised an eyebrow.

Rick pursed his lips and nodded, "Yeah, yeah, you're right. Do you think you could do a favor for me?"

Skeptical, Lori responded, "What?"

"Could you tell Daryl the girl he saved today is looking for him inside Hershel's house?"

Lori laughed, "Seriously?"

Rick chuckled quietly as well, "Yeah."

Throwing her hands up in defeat, Lori nodded, "I guess so. I suppose I'm not the one he's mad at." Lori stared at Rick, then laughed again and shook her head, walking away from her husband and towards the now silent tent.

Lori wasn't sure how to get Daryl's attention. How does one knock on a tent? Better question: How does one knock on Daryl's tent? Without making a big deal of it, Lori did her best to knock on the zipped-up tent flap and called out to him, "Daryl?"

She heard shuffling for a few moments until the flap was zipped down. Daryl stood there, stone faced, and did not say anything.

"Uh, yeah. Rick wanted me to tell you that the girl woke up and is asking for you."

As soon as the words left her mouth Daryl had darted out of the tent and ran across the front yard and into the house. Lori stood there wide eyed, watching his figure retreat inside, then searched for her husband by the fire and saw that he too was wide eyed and watching. Their eyes met and they chuckled quietly to one another as Lori rejoined the group.

Daryl bounded up the steps of the porch and flung the screen door to the farmhouse open. Once inside, he slowed down and calmly walked into the room where the girl laid. Eve sat up, with her back and head leaned up against the headboard, the blankets still clutched to her chest. She looked up when she heard Daryl walk in, boots thumping on the old hardwood floors.

From the doorway, they stared at each other for a short while, waiting for the other to make the first move. The girl's pale blue eyes softly watched him, her dark, thick eyelashes fanning over her cheeks each time she blinked.

"You alright now?" Daryl asked, stepping in and sitting down on the wooden chair next to the bed.

Eve nodded. "I just wanted to…" She trailed off for a moment and looked down. Pushing the blankets off the top of her body, she leaned over and embraced Daryl in a hug.

Daryl was taken aback, but eventually returned the hug, taking in the scent of her hair. When she moved to end the embrace, Daryl almost didn't let her go. She kissed his cheek softly and then leaned back onto the bed, readjusting the blankets and shivering a bit when the now cool sheets touched her skin. "Thank you."

He nodded curtly and stared at his rough, dirty hands.

It was silent again in the room.

"What's yer name?" Daryl asked the young girl.

"Eve."

Daryl noticed how much the name fit her. Beautiful, pure, innocent. But an underlying mystery shrouds her. This girl was definitely an Eve.

Cutting to the chase, Daryl asked, "Why were ya' in that shack?" He looked up to meet her eyes.

"Why were you in the woods?" Eve countered quietly.

Annoyed that she deflected his question, Daryl raised an eyebrow, "Why you changin' the subject?"

"Why are you changing my subject?" Her completely innocent face looked back on him. He could tell she was uncomfortable though. She was obviously avoiding the question for a reason.

Leaning back in the chair and propping one ankle over the other knee horizontally, like most men sat, Daryl cross his arms and looked over to the childlike girl, "Alright, I get it. Yer' goin' to hafta' tell me eventually though, you know that right?"

Eve bit her lip, but looked down and nodded.

"Okay, now that we got that settled, let's say we get a look at that ankle of yers, doll." Daryl stared at her and waited for a sign of acceptance and once it was granted, he leaned forward out of the chair, both feet now on the floor.

Eve was lying straight on the bed on her back. Daryl slowly moved his hands forward towards the end of the bed and then softly folded the blankets up and out of the way. It was obvious which ankle held the affliction, as the left was bandaged and the right was sitting there in all its pale, thin glory. Even her feet were delicate. Daryl felt the urge to protect her rise up from his stomach again. It was an almost uncontrollable feeling. He didn't want to control it though. He wanted to act on it; to keep her away from harm, to keep her as beautiful and delicate as she was right now.

Daryl looked up at her before he touched her ankle. She was biting her lip again, looking a little nervous. Reaching one, rough and calloused hand out, he started first with the right foot, softly trailing his fingers down from the top of her foot to the tip of her toe. She shivered. Daryl moved to the other foot and Eve immediately flinched.

"That hurt?" Daryl asked the girl.

With closed eyes, she nodded.

"That doctor say anythin' to you?"

She shook her head no.

"Rick say anythin' to you?"

Eve shook her head again, "Not really." At this point she yawned and rubbed her hands on her closed eyes.

"You tired?" Daryl asked.

"A bit."

"Go on to sleep then."

"I don't want to."

Confused, Daryl spoke, "And why is that?"

Eve wrung her hands in her lap, and then wiped them on the sheets like she was nervous. Her ice blue eyes looked down and a light blush came across her cheeks. Almost too quiet to hear, she spoke, "Cause… I don't want you to leave."

Daryl was startled. He wasn't expecting that one. He couldn't deny he liked it though. "You go on to sleep. I'll be right here, Evie."

Hearing that made her heart swell. It had been so long since she felt this way, and she loved it. Feeling safe for the first time in months, Eve smiled and laid down on the bed, snuggling into the covers and bunching up her legs to her chest to stay warm. Daryl watched her through the night.