"I'm Hershel Greene," Beth heard her daddy say as everyone settled into the living room of their big farm house. She hadn't expected there to be so many of the group of strangers. Apparently a few had been left back at their base camp while the original group had left, probably to scout out the area and find food.

"These are my children," She heard her daddy continue. "Shawn," She watched as Shawn ducked his head (he was suffering under a big weight of guilt for shooting the kid) and mumbled a quick sound of affirmation.

"Maggie," Maggie opted not to say anything. Beth glanced over at her and noticed she was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, and face set in a stern disapproving look that reminded her of their daddy something fierce.

"And my youngest, Beth." Beth's blue eyes darted from her sister to scan the group of people. In the chaos of what had been happening, Beth found herself able to almost completely forget about the colors. When she was sitting and the room was quiet, and she was able to really look at everything and everyone sitting before her. The colors seemed to almost scream at her. This group brought so many colors with them. Colors she'd never even imagined. Their patterned clothes, while muddied, were so filled with colors that she wanted to trace her fingers over them. Jeans so deep dark blue that she could almost mistake them for black. It made her head swim when she tried to think of the names for all the colors she was looking at on this group of people. She mumbled out her own 'hello' and raised her hand as one by one she felt everyone's eyes land on her and then drift away. She wanted to sigh.

She was used to it though.

Her older siblings often looked at her like she was insignificant when faced with a difficult task. She remembered the first time it happened. Shawn had been the first one to look at her like she was different; like she was just a girl. She'd been following him around wanting to play and he had been relentless in trying to get her gone. In the midst of her begging, he'd rounded on her, towering over her, and looked at her like she was beneath him."You can't do this, Beth. You'll get dirty and then run away cryin' to Mama like always."

She'd stopped and been filled with such a righteous fury it had made her little frame vibrate. She'd known his real excuse and had seen the snub for what it was. She was a girl and he didn't think she was tough enough. Before she could even count to ten, a tactic that her Mama had taught her to do when she got angry, she'd balled her little fist and plowed him straight in the nose. It had hurt like hell, but she'd made it all the way back to the farm house before she burst into tears. She'd been nine.

When it happened with Maggie it had been worse. Beth always envied Maggie and her looks. Maggie had the looks of a woman full grow—the fact that Maggie was full grown never really seemed to soothe the burn of envy within Beth. Beth still, at seventeen, was a little less than curvaceous. Maggie had been taking her out to try to teach her how to defend herself against the walkers, and Beth had been so excited. Beth wanted nothing more than to prove she wasn't just some prissy country bumpkin, and she wanted to prove to everyone that she could take care of herself. She wasn't helpless and useless. Maggie had handed her one of their big kitchen knives and watched as she took a swing at a walker that had gotten itself tangled on the fence. The look of utter dismay on Maggie's face had made Beth want to just crawl in a hole.

"You're not cutting bread, Beth!" Maggie had snapped. "You gotta rip your arm down to get into the skull. Like this." Beth watched as Maggie slammed the knife down into another walker and sighed.

"I'm tryin'." Beth had said quickly, before taking another swing and failing to replicate Maggie's motions.

"I guess you're doing your best." Maggie had paused, "You should probably start helpin' Daddy in the barn. You ain't got no muscle to speak of, so I guess I shouldn't expect you to be able to do this right away."

Beth had been crushed. She'd lifted her arm one more time, determined to show Maggie she could do this and defend herself. She wasn't useless. With all her might she'd pulled her arm down as quick as she could and managed to sink the blade in a decent amount. It hadn't helped. Maggie nodded as if to say 'that's a good start for a weakling.' and finished off with a quiet. "We'll keep practicing." Maggie never took her out again. In fact, any time a few walkers wound up at their fence, or managed to make it past their defenses she was immediately ushered into the farmhouse, albeit with much protesting, while someone else cleared the area. Yeah, Beth was used to people looking at her and thinking she was insignificant, and it drove her crazy.

"We're gonna need to get him some antibiotics and some painkillers," Hershel continued. "I can't keep knocking him out with what I got." The boy's dad nodded.

"We're willin' to make a run where ever there might be somethin' to help him," He looked at his group. "I'm Rick, this is my wife Lori." He motioned to the boy's mother. "My old partner Shane." Shane tipped his head and Beth felt her insides turn a bit cold. "Glenn, Carol, and Daryl." He pointed to each person he'd introduced.

"And Carl is the name of the kid you shot." Shane snipped out at the group, pinning Shawn with a dark angry glare. She noticed Shawn paled and looked down.

"You know he didn't mean to shoot him," Maggie blurted out, instantly on the defense. "He was tryin' to clear the woods of walkers. He heard somethin' and shot."

"Doesn't mean he ain't stupid, or the direct cause of all this."

"I know, but it ain't like he tried to kill him!" Maggie put her hands on her hips and took a step closer, as if getting closer might make her seem a little more imposing.

"Enough!" Hershel said sternly. He looked at Maggie. "They know Shawn wasn't tryin' to kill the boy. Now it's on us to help him and get the boy back to rights." Hershel turned beseeching eyes to Rick, knowing no one in his group would listen to a damn word he was saying if Rick didn't agree.

"He's right. We're all on edge, but the most important thing right now is making sure Carl gets everything he needs to recover," Rick gave Hershel a nod. They would have to work together. For a moment he looked around the room at his group, his eyes landing on each person individually.

Daryl watched the whole interaction silently from his spot, sprawled out on the floor, crossbow leaning casually against the wall behind him. He itched for a cigarette but somehow knew smoking inside the house wouldn't be looked at too kindly. He also itched to hit something, or someone, but knew that wasn't the right of it either. The past few hours had been some of the tensest he'd ever experienced. After the trio, with his help, had taken care of the small swarm of walkers outside, Shane had gone in search of the rest of their group. He didn't know what Shane had said to the group, but Lori had rushed in about ready to tear into everybody. The second she'd laid eyes on her son she'd burst into tears, cradled him close and refused to leave the bedroom. That had been a good couple hours ago. Carl was doing alright, sleeping peacefully (completely knocked out by some low-dosage tranquilizers until they could get some good pain meds) and all stitched up. That's honestly how they found themselves all sitting around the room in a circle, eyeing each other with distrust, trying to figure out who was going where to find the meds they would need.

"We're goin' to need a group to make the run." Rick started. Daryl met his eyes and knew without words that he'd be going. "I need someone to make that trip."

"I'll go." Shane said, his hard eyes still fixed on the kid (what was his name again? John? Shawn?) who had put them all in this predicament to begin with. Daryl could sympathize. He didn't much like Shane, at least not recently. Not since the CDC. He'd seemed to come unhinged after the safe-haven had proven not as safe as they had thought. The rage that Shane had flown into when they found the place burnt to a crisp and swarmed with walkers had been enough to make Daryl question his sanity. No he didn't much like him, but he could understand the anger flowing through him at Shawn.

Shawn had been the very essence of stupid. He'd shot first without seeing and damn near killed Carl. His only saving grace was that he was just a kid. Not even twenty, Daryl guessed now that he'd seen him up close and listened to him talk, and he wasn't really trained in anything except how to pull the damn trigger. Daryl knew this kid was bound to make mistakes. It was a shame, a damn shame, that he'd made a mistake that almost cost Carl his life, but he could be taught. They all needed to be trained and taught.

"I'll go too." Daryl's eyes jerked to see Shawn raise his hand determinedly. "It's my fault he's laid out. It's the least I can do to help, and I know exactly where we're goin'."

"I can't ask you to do that, son." Rick said solemnly.

"You aren't askin'. I'm volunteering," When Hershel stepped forward as if it protest, Shawn held up his hand. "No dad. I need to do this." He looked back to Rick. "I'll go out with Shane and find the medication and extra supplies we'll need to help Carl get better." Rick weighed the options before nodding slowly.

"Alright. You're gonna need to take another person."

"I'll go." Beth's soft voice floated through the room, drawing everyone's eyes to her. She stared at everyone. "I can do it."

"Now, Beth, honey…" Hershel started but was cut off by Maggie's concerned voice.

"You can't go Bethy. You'll get hurt. We need you here to help take care of Carl. Let someone else do it. You're better suited to be here." Beth bit her tongue, and resisted the urge to scream. She could do this.

Daryl stared at the little ball of blonde and pink and marveled. She was a spitfire, and judging by the angry snarl she had plastered on her little face, she was madder than hell. He had to agree with her older sister though. She wasn't trained well enough to go out on runs yet and she was a little slip of nothing. She would get herself hurt, or even killed, and then it would be a war.

"I'll go," Glenn finally said. Daryl turned his eyes to Glenn and watched as Rick gave a nod. That was it. The group was decided.

"Come on into the kitchen." Hershel called. "I got some maps and can explain where everything is so you can get there and get back. We're gonna need quite a few things and they're not all in the same locations," He watched as the trio moved off and disappeared into the kitchen. The little blonde stood, almost like sprung to her feet and marched towards the front door. He'd barely known her half a day and he could tell she was beyond pissed.

"Bethy," Maggie started as she caught her by the shoulders.

"Leave off, Maggie." Beth hissed. "I'm just goin' outside. Can't get hurt out in the barn," without waiting to hear a response she stomped her way out the front door and down to the big red barn.

Daryl watched as everyone slowly dissipated from the room leaving him alone. He took a good long minute to look around. Daryl Dixon wasn't one to be impressed or awestruck by much, but all the colors now floating before his very eyes were enough to make him pause. He'd heard all the rumors and stories about colors. Never once in his life did he dream he'd ever get to see any of them, and now here he was, staring at an old wooden piano that had wood so rich it almost looked red. He stood and walked over to it, his dirty fingers gently stroking along the top of the rich wood. He looked over his shoulder and spotted a bunch of dried flowers, now slightly brown from being dried, but the reds and pinks were still vibrant enough to make him stare an extra minute at them. They must have been beautiful when they'd been alive.

With a sharp turn on his heel, he turned to the front door and made his way outside. He needed a smoke. He perched himself up on the white railing, pulling a cigarette from one of his pockets to let it dangle from the corner of his mouth. He fished around for the small book of matches he knew were around and then lit it. He took a long drag as he contemplated his new situation.

He'd found his other half—the person who was supposed to complete him. He'd found the person to bring color into his life. Yes, Daryl Dixon had laid eyes on his soul mate, but he had no idea who it was. Part of him wished these damn colors had never come along. He was perfectly happy with his muted grays and blacks and whites. All these blues, and greens, and pinks, and yellows (that damn blonde was poking around by the barn) were going to give him a headache, and he'd have to suffer the beauty of it in silence, because there was no way in hell anyone would want to share it with him. He took another drag and paused to weigh his options. The brunette seemed like the clear answer. She was strong. He wouldn't have to worry about her fending for herself out in the world. Sure she wasn't trained, but he could train her. Would train her. She was independent. She didn't need to be coddled or told what to do. She could do what she pleased when she pleased, and she was sure it would get done.

He was drawn from his thoughts as Beth walked out from the barn again, and he squinted at her. What if it was her? He had a sinking feeling in his stomach. It couldn't be her. She was weak, young, and she needed all the help in the world just to survive. She was sheltered, delicate, and vulnerable. She was his complete opposite. The only thing he could identify with was her spitfire nature, but even that was subdued like she'd been taught to hold her tongue. In a world like this one, she learned all the wrong things. No, it most definitely couldn't be her.

He heard the screen door whine as it opened and the scavenger group made their way out and down the stairs, followed by Rick, and the older sister, Maggie (damn he had to get better about remembering to use their names.) He watched as Maggie's eyes were drawn to Beth working out in the barn. "I should probably get out there and help her. Lord knows she'll be too sore tomorrow if she does it all by herself." Daryl felt a twinge. Maggie cut Beth down probably a lot more than she should. The girl deserved some credit. It was clear no one had ever taken her out to teach her how to defend herself. He'd seen the evidence of that when they'd all been out by the fence killing those walkers. But he'd felt her eyes watch him, and had noticed her technique, while still terribly lacking, had gotten a bit better. The girl was a quick study. She just needed someone to teach her.

"Maggie, you let your sister alone. You know she's down there fit to be tied, and you goin' down there is only goin' to make it worse. We're goin' to have extra people here so I need you to go check the food stores and see what we can stretch for dinner," Hershel spoke calmly from the other side of her. With a quick grumble Maggie disappeared back inside. "I'm sorry. My girls don't always get along, and listenin' to them bicker would just give me a headache," Daryl looked over at the old man. They shared a smile, or rather Hershel smiled, Daryl grunted and twitched one corner of his mouth. "I think we've had enough excitement for one day." Daryl nodded and watched as Hershel made his way back inside, leaving just him and Rick on that old white porch.

"Daryl," Rick stepped closer to him, dropping his voice down so their conversation was a bit more private. "Seeing as how we're gonna be stayin' here until Carl is back on his feet, I need somethin' from you."

"What you have in mind?" Daryl raised his eyebrow.

"We gotta show them the ropes. This farm is only gonna last so long, and if we don't show them how to take down walkers and properly hunt, this family won't make it," Daryl nodded. He had the same thoughts, but knew it was Rick's bleeding heart that led the man to ask for help. "I've seen enough death, put enough people down. I don't want that to happen to them."

"Okay, I can do that."

"But, we gotta do it discreetly. I get the sense Hershel ain't fond of the idea of his kin being too wise to the ways of the world. I don't want to step on any toes, but these kids gotta know how to take care of themselves. You know?"

"Yeah. I can do that. Ain't even gonna know it's happenin'," Rick nodded.

"Good man." He clapped his hand on his shoulder. "I think we should start tonight. Maybe with the girl? She seems to be the one everyone thinks needs the most sheltering," Daryl gave a snort.

"Ain't that the truth." He took another drag of his cigarette. "Yeah. I'll head on down to that red barn as soon as I finish." He puffed on the unfiltered cigarette again, noting that Rick's face turned puzzled.

"Red barn?" Daryl nearly choked on the smoke in his lungs.

"Yeah...I mean. I assume it's red. Ain't that what all the storybooks say and shit?" He watched Rick closely and nearly sighed when he nodded.

"Yeah." Their eyes found their way over to the barn where Daryl watched the little yellow and pink figure disappear and reappear as she worked, which appeared to be cleaning out the stables. Daryl stood, thunked down the white steps, dropped his cigarette butt into the dirt before crushing it with the heel of his shoe.

"Give me a signal if we're not back by the time someone gets curious." With that he marched his way across the field towards his first student.