Hey everyone! Sorry it's been so long since I've updated. I hadn't had any free time of lately but today I did and decided to start writing as much as I could! Previously I was asked if this was going to give away any spoilers BUT since the season is over there are obviously no spoilers to give away lol.

For those of you who reviewed, favorited, and alerted I just wanted to say, THANK YOU SO MUCH! Not only was it really awesome to get your guys feedback, but it made my day!

So without further ado, Chapter 3!

p.s. this has a Daryl POV. Hopefully I did that man justice.

Linkyn fought not to pull back as she drew in a sharp breath, the air hissing as it passed through her teeth. She could feel Hershel's movements pause as he glanced up from his work; Linkyn on the other hand kept her eyes trained on the window looking out past it to the pasture outside. She would rather focus on that not wanting to risk taking a glance at Hershel's progress of her collarbone.

His pause had been brief and in a second she was back to fighting not to winch away as she felt the needle slide deep into her skin. Linkyn tried to think of something else as she felt the snug pull of the string pull on her skin forcing herself to look back out the window as she wiped away the sweat that had started at her brow.

"Again I apologize for having to wake you up to do this but we've run out of pain killers. So if we had started while you were asleep-"

With a small smile on her lips, Linkyn reached out, lightly patting his arm.

"No need to keep apologizing Hershel. What you are doing for me right now is more than enough."

His eyes shifted as he gave her what she supposed was a smile but came out more like a grimace. Whenever his hands weren't working on her arm, they shook uncontrollably.

Hershel finished with the last stitch and she couldn't have been more grateful that it was over. He removed himself from his seat he'd placed next to the bed and walked over to the small hand basin that Maggie had placed for him on top of the dresser next to the door.

"When was the last time that you ate a proper meal?" he asked as he began to wash his hands.

Linkyn's feet tapped gently on the hardwood floor as she slowly edged herself to the edge of the bed. Now that they were finished she could show him she had some power bars and some oranges she could eat not wanting to take up anymore of his hospitality then she had already. Not to mention she wanted to give him some of the pain medications she had found earlier as a sort of repayment. But when she leaned down to look for her bags she didn't see them. Getting off of the bed she bent down and looked under the bed thinking maybe they had placed them there when Hershel called out to her.

"I had your bags taken out to the camp with the others. I'm sorry but I can't let you stay here."

Linkyn had listened to him, paying close attention to his voice as it quivered, as his eyes continued to shift. She realized, as he dried off his hands, that he was only trying to avoid eye contact because he was fighting not to cry. This time however must have been much harder as a pain-filled sob escaped him. Hershel ran a shaky hand over his face as he looked out past the window to the camp that was just a few yards out.

Hershel looked like a man who was just about ready to break.

"I understand Hershel. If you don't mind I'd like to bring you back some oxycodone and aspirin; as a way to say thank you."

"That is very kind of you but you may want to keep that for yourself."

She waved him off quickly and grimaced as a shot of pain ran through her shoulder as she tucked her hands inside her pockets.

"I have plenty I assure you. It'll at least be something for you folks to have until you run out again. I've already taken up enough of your hospitality than is needed."

The man almost seemed transfixed on the campsite so transfixed that it was beginning to fill her with a bit of unease. Whatever had been built up between the two groups had exploded out in that grizzly scene in front of the barn and when his tortured face turned to her, her breath caught instantly. She was too afraid that if she even exhaled he would've collapsed into a broken heap on the floor.

"I cannot express to you how incredibly sorry I am to have to send you out there with those-those animals."

His body had looked like it had been in pain as he choked through the words to get them out. Hershel's body suddenly shuddered violently as he turned away from her, his shoulders shaking, as he tried to hide his tears from her.

Linkyn just stood there unsure of what to do for him or if she should even try. One thing was for certain however; whoever had been in that barn must have been very special to him.

Daryl's POV

Taking another nervous bite of his nail Daryl risked another quick glance back at the camp as he made his way up to the house. He'd made sure that Carol had been taken care of and had even fallen asleep before he had left.

He wasn't sure how Hershel's people were going to react if they saw him but he didn't give a fuck what they did. He hadn't come packing with his crossbow but he'd made sure he'd brought his hunting knife; Rick would've stopped him cold if he'd seen him coming up here at all. Afraid that anyone's presence from camp would only make the situation between them and Hershel worse but Daryl didn't give a damn about Hershel or the fucked up situation they were in.

To be honest Daryl could've cared less about anything that was going on around him; it couldn't come close to what was going on inside him.

He'd tired so hard to find Sophia; in his gut the whole time believing she was alive. More like believing like the damn fool that he was that he would find her that maybe for once in his life he would be the hero but instead-instead he had failed that little girl.

Daryl rubbed at his eyes, fiercely trying to wipe away the tears that threatened to expose him. He was sure that if Merle could see him now he'd no doubt rub it in his face and tell him how much he was acting like a pussy. Probably tell him how he needed to be put in a fucking tutu.

Daryl Dixon was nobody's bitch. Not even Merle's.

Breathing in deeply he squared his shoulders, transferring all that-that other emotion he didn't know how to deal with into one that he did know: rage. Carol had made it incredibly easy for him, making her stupid comments and at the same time making a part of him die hearing her words. Because they only meant one thing: he had failed her too.

Shaking his head he drew himself back to the task at hand: catching a glimpse of that girl from earlier.

She was pretty, he'd give her that, but that wasn't his whole reason for seeing her. Actually, it wasn't his reason at all. Her clothes had been covered in what looked like dirt and other things. Those other dried stains something that he himself knew all too well. At first he figured for her to be some straggler that some other group had lost and that she'd been wondering around looking for them. From his first glance he didn't think much of her until she'd surprised the hell out of him when she'd taken Shane down a notch; amazed at how fluidly she had attacked him.

There was no way she was a normal civilian. Daryl was willing to bet she had been a cop or something before all this bullshit started happening. He didn't really like cops; Rick was alright when he wasn't pointing a gun at his face and Shane was just an asshole. Cops were like a slot machine with those fifty-fifty odds but those machines were a joke and those odds normally were twenty five-seventy five odds.

Whoever this chick was could go any which way but Daryl could've honestly cared less. He just needed a distraction, anything really, to keep him from having to focus on the war that was raging inside him.

He threw one cautious glance behind him one more time, noticing some of the others beginning to head out to the graves. No one was going to notice him coming to the house unless someone came out of it. Daryl took the porches steps in twos, almost leaping onto the porch, and quickly made his way over to the windows his eyes squinting as he tried to see through the dainty blinds that covered them from the inside. What little glimpses he could see so far from the window told him he was looking in the wrong ones.

The first window had shown him a living room like he had seen in all those home magazines. All fancy, clean, and almost seemingly untouched. He didn't linger on it though; he had other business to attend to besides daydreaming about a nice looking living room.

Taking a step to the right he leaned in again, his eyes squinting, and noticed it just put him closer to the hallway that he'd seen that lead from the kitchen into the back rooms. He'd stayed in the house before and wondered if they'd put her in that exact room.

With his body filling with added purpose, not to mention urgency, he did a quick skip towards the right side of the house. He didn't have much time before someone was bound to spot him over here and he didn't want to hear Rick bitch-

Unexpectedly the screen door swung open fast barely giving him a second to step out of the way before it greeted his face. Anger flared to life in his chest making his hands clench and unclench into fists as he came around the screen door, ready to bout with whoever had just thrown the door open, when he saw her come around the corner. Suddenly he felt his spiteful words catch in the back of his throat, his hands unclenching one last time before he brought his hand up to his mouth. Nervously he bit down on his nails as he looked over at her.

What the hell is she staring at?

"What the hell you looking at?" he snapped.

Daryl figured she'd jump or quickly answer him but she didn't. Instead she just remained standing there in front of him with her body relaxing as she placed her hands on her hips. Daryl fought the urge to shiver as her eyes slide over him, sizing him up it seemed, until her eyes locked on to his.

"Lady what the hell are you eyeballing me for?"

"You're one of those people from the camp right?" she replied coolly ignoring his question.

He didn't like being ignored. Especially to some woman he didn't even know.

"Yeah why?"

"Did you come all the way over here to apologize?"

Daryl scoffed at that as his body began to grow antsy. He needed to release all this tension, so he started to lightly pace in place, running his hands down the front of his pants.

"What the fuck do I have to apologize for?"

"You aren't the one who shot me then?"

"That was the slippery fingered nigger over there. I know how to shot my weapon; if it'd been me you'd be dead," Daryl informed her.

With her hands still on her hips he watched as she rocked back on her heels as she shook her head; a smirk lifting the corners of her mouth.

"Wow, you are the most welcoming bunch of people I have ever met."

Daryl didn't know why but he took a threatening step towards her, filling in the rest of what little space was between them.

"If you haven't fucking noticed lady the whole world has gone to shit." He pointed out to where the group was digging graves; were Sophia was. "There's a little girl lying dead over there because some flesh eating geeks got to her before we did. If any of this should seem right to you, you are one fucked up person-"

"I am sorry to hear about that little girl, I am, but don't you dare yell at me like it's my fault. I understand that your sad and in pain-"

"I ain't sad," he screamed.

Bitch looked at him like she didn't believe him.

"Oh really? Well you sure look sad to me."

"I'm pissed off! There's a difference."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah, really. Don't try and tell me what the fuck I should be feeling!"

"I'm not telling you how to feel! Look, I get that you are upset about that little girl; I do believe me. But turning it into something hateful isn't going to help you any."

Who the fuck was she to tell him anything? Acting like she knew about his life and what he had been through to find that little girl. Why the hell was he even talking to this bitch anyways?

She threw up her hands in what looked like surrender but more out of irritation it seemed than anything else.

"Can you just please tell me where ya'll put my bags? The sooner you tell me the sooner I can leave and you'll never have to see me again."

"Daryl?"

Glancing behind him Daryl saw Rick heading straight for them and moving fast. He wasn't in the mood for Rick's bullshit either. It was his turn to be irritated as he ran a shaking hand through his hair. He risked a quick glance back over to the grave site and noticed that a few people had started gathering. It was probably almost time for him to head over there; he'd found his way out.

"Why don't you go find it your goddamn self? I ain't your fucking errand boy!"

He moved past her quick not even turning back as Rick called out his name.

Linkyn's POV

"But I didn't ask you to find them for me!"

She had started out shouting it after him and as he walked but it slowly dwindled down into a mumble as she watched after him as he walked off.

"Daryl! Daryl!"

The guy from before, the nice one she hoped, came quickly onto the porch and for a second she thought he was going to chase after the other man. Instead, with his fingers laced into his gun belt, he turned to face her giving her the first friendly smile she had received since she'd been there. Didn't matter how tight it was; it was still better than nothing.

"It's so good to see that you're alright. How's the shoulder?"

Taking his hand off of the belt to point briefly at the wound in question as if she had forgotten that it was there.

She fought against the urge to touch it. Instead she laced her arms across her chest protectively, hoping to send a silent message for him to keep his distance. In Linkyn's mind it didn't matter how nice this man was. If he was the leader of this group he was slowly starting to lose control and that was never a good thing.

For what felt like a lifetime they stood there in communicable silence; sizing each other up and acting like the other was a frightened animal.

"The shoulder's fine. Hershel did really good work."

"Yes he does."

He tried to give her a comforting smile but it came across strained, his eyes tightening. She could tell by his eyes he was exhausted and trying to hold himself together for the sake of his group. This was probably a decent man standing in front of her, but decency had no place in a world like this.

"I'm Rick, by the way."

Rick took a cautious step forward and extended out his hand. It took Linkyn all of two seconds to decide to unlock her arms and place her hand in his. He gave her a firm, yet friendly, grip as they shook hands. The tension in his shoulders easing as she spoke.

"Nice to meet you Rick. I'm Linkyn."

"Well Linkyn, it's a pleasure."

She couldn't help but laugh bitterly at that.

"Sure it is."

Casting a glance out to the field she scanned the open area until she found the small figure of the man, Daryl, who'd been yelling at her previously. He was making his way towards where everyone else in the camp was gathering and she could only guess that it was a grave site.

This would be the perfect opportunity to get her things and go.

"So Rick, Hershel tells me he gave your group my stuff. Do you think you can take me over there now so I can get it? I'll be out of your hair right after I promise."

Rick's body instantly grew tense as he looked uncomfortably around him.

"I was hoping to actually talk to you about that."

"Oh? About what exactly?"

He moved in a little closer to her and Linkyn had to fight the urge to take a step back, just out of precaution.

"I noticed your medical supplies. You seem to be fully well stocked even have some thing's civilians wouldn't really know how to use."

"You went through my stuff?" she snapped, exasperated.

"I caught Shane midway through. I made sure he put everything back-"

"Right so you had nothing to do with one of your people ransacking my personal things?"

"Linkyn, I promise you I would never invade someone else's privacy. But I can't just ignore the fact that what I saw was some heavy grade stuff. Now, from the way you handle yourself I'm gonna go out on a ledge here and say you were probably military but-but someone carrying around and EMS bag and a stethoscope…were you a combat medic by any chance?"

He already knew her answer so she didn't even understand why he was asking. Nor was she going to tell him her personal story or about how caring around some of those things brought a strange sort of normalcy to hear life that most wouldn't understand.

"Well aren't you just an original fucking Sherlock Holmes."

"Look I don't know how many times I can apologize but I won't, and can't, apologize for trying to look out for my people. You know how to take care of others and my people could sure use someone like you."

Rick's wild blue eyes were pleading, pleading with her in a way that countless people before him had pleaded. He seemed to have a good heart and she knew, in some way, he meant well but it didn't change anything about this situation. If he wanted her to integrate into the group, she just couldn't do it.

It was easier to be alone, less messy and…less chance to become attached.

"What are you asking exactly here, Rick?"

"I'm asking that you come with us. We could sure use someone like you with us." Linkyn couldn't stop the sad smile that lifted her lips, so she tried to look away, as she lightly shook her head. Rick only followed her with his pleading only growing more intense. "We could keep you safe and give you a sense of stability-"

"I don't mean this by any offense Rick but it seems to me your group is collapsing down around you. Why would I even want to stay with a group, who only a few hours ago, tried to kill me? Unless Southern hospitality changed while I was away, I'm pretty sure that not a proper greeting."

"But you've gotta understand! You caught us all at a vulnerable moment. Our emotions were running so high then and none of it was meant to actually harm you. We never expected for you to come stumbling through Hershel's field the way you did."

"I know," she rasped.

And she did know. Linkyn could still hear the howling cries of despair as the mother watched as her daughter had died for the second time. The sound still haunting her as she looked out and too the camp.

"I just don't think I can do it Rick. I work better alone. The only time I ever stop is to help those in need and then move on-"

"My wife is pregnant!" he whispered loudly.

His voice was quivering as he ran a shaky hand over his face. Rick was a man trying desperately to keep it together. Barely keeping it together or not, Linkyn felt rage swell up inside of her, having him basically throw those words in her face. Intentional or not, if she walked away now, the guilt would eat her alive for walking away.

"How dare you!" she hissed, taking an angry step towards him. "How dare you just throw that at me, trying to play off of my sympathies?"

"I'm sorry I didn't mean-"

"Didn't mean what, Rick? To tell me your wife is pregnant with a baby? Haven't you told Hershel I mean maybe he can help you?"

"I have told Hershel and he just wants us off of his land! Please, I am begging you-"

"I don't know what you want me to do! I've never delivered a baby in combat before nor was I ever a doctor before I was ever in the military."

"It doesn't matter you are the closest thing we've got right now to help keep my wife and the rest of the group healthy."

Linkyn turned away from him and just gazed out at the open pasture; running a hand through her hair as she tried to calm the roar of emotions that were sounding off inside her.

"After the funeral, my wife and Carol are going to make supper. We would all really appreciate it if you would stop by; they'd all like to meet you. After you've met everyone, if you still want to leave, I'll give you your stuff and you can be on your way."

Rick gave her one last look as he adjusted his gun belt before he turned and made his way down the steps. No doubt heading towards the funeral where it seemed the whole group had gathered while they'd been having their discussion.

She wanted to hit something; preferably Rick if she could. He was slick and knew that if she did meet everyone, including his pregnant wife, that it could possibly make her stay. Linkyn hated dirty tactics like that but as she made her way quickly down the stairs and out towards the field, she had to hand it to the man: it was a damn useful tactic.

I'm considering meshing in some of the comic book storyline as well as the TV series. What do you guys think? Would you like to see that melding?

Also, how did you guys like Chapter 3? Did I do alright with Daryl's part?

I JUST GOTTA KNOW! lol

Thank you all so much for reading :)

~Much Love, Jeneane~