Okay, so it seems the encouragement has picked up and I am really, really appreciate it. Even if I don't get verbal responses, the favourites and follows mean a great deal to me. Anyway, here is the next chapter and I hope you all enjoy. Get a bit more insight to Daryl and Katherine's past relationship with one another.

Disclaimer: I do NOT own The Walking Dead, comic or the television series, nor its characters. All I own is my main OC, other OCs, and some plot points.

Warnings: Daryl and OC romance, crude humor, swearing, sexual content, gore, mentions types of abuse, and alcohol and drug references.

Chapter: Seven

Daylight had come and that meant that it was time to move on and head to the farm. The group was reluctant to go, particularly Carol, of course, but as a comfort to her and as a precaution, the group had gathered some supplies and piled it onto the hood of a car with a note to Sophia, written into the dust of the windshield, that they'd be back and she should stay there until they returned; that'd be every day. Then, they all piled into the RV, Shane's sleek, silver car, and onto Daryl's bike and headed off in the direction of the farm, hopes high that Carl was all right.

And it seemed that God—if you believed in Him—was not being entirely cruel to them.

Not entirely.

As it had turned out, a man named Otis had been hunting and accidentally shot Carl in the belly for he had gotten in the crossfire. For a long time, despite Rick's three blood transfusions, the chances of the boy living had been slim. That was until Shane and Otis bravely went to the nearest high school to retrieve medical supplies so that the owner of the farm the group had migrated to by the name of Hershel Greene could operate properly and successfully on Carl—or to the best of his ability, considering he was just a veterinarian.

Only Shane had returned.

And that was where the 'not entirely' part came in.

Daryl, Dale, Carol, Andrea, and Katherine had arrived just in time for a funeral.

Everyone was gathered around an old oak tree where a pile of rocks were laid out while the funeral attendants, the group, the Greene family (family friends), and Otis' wife, Patricia had their own rocks to place on the pile as tribute. Hershel read from the Bible that, though Katherine wasn't at all religious, was beautiful. Sad, but beautiful, bringing many of the women to tears, particularly Patricia, Maggie (the brunette from the day before and Hershel's daughter), and Beth (Maggie's little blonde sister).

When Hershel, a reserved, elderly man, finished his reading, he turned and addressed Shane, who suddenly nearly bald for some reason or another, "Shane, if you would, say a few words?"

Immediately, the police officer looked incredibly uncomfortable,, shuffling on his feet and eyes dancing about. "No good at it…" he grumbled.

"Pl-Please…" Patricia, a somber, middle-aged woman, sobbed out. "Y-You were…were th-the last person with him. You…you sh-shared his last moments. I-I need…need to know h-his death h-had meaning…"

Shane did look at all eager to speak about the events, yet ultimately, he did and there was something odd about it all to Katherine, "We…We were down to our last ten bullets. We were swarmed by…by Biters. And he said 'We gotta help that boy. You go. You go. I'll hold 'em off'. And…I tried t-to help, but…but he insisted. He pushed, gave me the stuff then, they were just on him." He sighed, face contorted in agony, but there was something in his eyes that didn't sit quite well with Katherine. "If…if it hadn't been for Otis, Carl and I would be dead."

Avoiding any kind of eye-content, he stiffly placed his rock on the pile. Soon, others joined that rock and everyone fell silent to pay their respects.

After that, everyone about their own business.

The Greene clan went back to their home, offering to make lunch for everyone. Hershel attended to Carl and T-Dog, who were getting better. Lori and Rick checked on their son, who had yet to awaken. The others set up their own little area on the land to put up tents and the like.

As it turned out, it was a down day for everyone. A day to mourn and a day to relax after a hectic few days.

Katherine was grateful for that.

She needed some time alone and she wanted to explore the farm, it bringing back wonderful memories; not of her family, but of the animals, the workers, and the farm itself. Not to mention, she needed to get away from the stares of Dale and Daryl, especially Daryl.

The sun was hot, but Katherine could feel a light breeze blowing, rustling through the fields, which meant the autumn was ultimately approaching. Farm animals made their usual, lively sounds being oh, so familiar to her ears. The smells of manure, fodder, livestock, and everything that was crisp and natural and alive ensnared her nose. Oh, so very alive and Katherine loved it; she had missed it terribly so.

If only things were how they once were…

No Walkers. Everyone was still alive. The farm was safe and lively as always. Katherine would occasionally go to her part-time job as Dee-Dee's Diner. If she wasn't working, she'd be helping out with the horses at home, teaching little girls and boys, sometimes even adults, how to ride or she'd ride them herself or she'd help the stable hands, particularly Daryl and Merle (mostly Merle), laughing and chatting. Sometimes, she'd even go out with friends from school or coworkers or, if she could coax him enough, sometimes, she even went out with Daryl.

All these memories were still fresh in her mind. Clear as day.

Breakfast into lunch shifts were always difficult, strenuous, but Katherine never found herself complaining. She would always be on her fact, but she enjoyed seeing familiar faces and on the occasion, she'd meet and serve someone from out of town; for a small town girl, who sometimes dreamed of escaping, that was fascinating. Besides, it would give her a breather from her father and brother.

Either way, the young blonde woman had just come home to see that a familiar dirty blue truck was still parked in the same place as it had been early that morning, causing a small frown to mar on her flushed and tired face.

Daryl was still working, which meant Merle had missed his shift. Again.

Shaking her head, disapprovingly, Katherine quickly showered and changed her clothes before heading out to search for Daryl upon her family's land.

As she had predicted, he was at the stables attending to the horses while the other workers dealt with a twelve-year-old girl's birthday party. Never really the social one and held a soft for the horses. He was currently loading heaps of hay and oats with each stall, heaving the haystacks and buckets of oats back and forth, working up a sweat.

Katherine found herself admiring him for a moment before realizing what she was doing and leaned against the stall door to call out to him, "Hey, Dare-Bear."

He made a face as he paused in his work then, continued, grumbling, "Don' call me dat, Kit-Kat."

Her lips twitched upwards. "Then don't call me 'Kit-Kat'."

Their usual banter. Something that never got old even into adulthood.

"Why don't chya take a break?" Katherine suggested with a smile and a tilt of her head, blonde waves falling over to one shoulder.

He stared at her for a moment then, shook his head. "Workin'."

"Daryl, you've been workin' all day, workin' two shifts, yours and Merle's. You deserve to take a break, man," she pointed out.

"Someone's gotta work it if my brother ain't gonna."

"That's not your responsibility, y'know?"

"I ain't gonna lose good cash 'cuz of him."

"Daryl,"

"Don' worry 'bout it, Kat."

A sigh escaped Katherine's lips. "Well, if you're gonna be stubborn about it and are determined to work two eight hour shifts, ya gotta at least take one break. Gotta follow labor laws and I don't wanna pull that 'I'm your boss' daughter' shit and force ya." she urged.

Daryl ceased working, his scowl deepening before rolling his eyes and dropping the bucket of oats. "Fine."

Brightening with a grin, she said, "Smart man."

With that, the two grabbed a few chilled beers, a pack of smokes, and rounded up a couple horses to ride out to the fields further out on the farm, away from most prying eyes. They spread out a blanket to lay upon to drink, smoke, and talk while the horses grazed, just enjoying the moment of peace from their crazy lives.

Lazily, Katherine breathed out a puff of smoke, watching it drift to the clear blue skies. A question arose in her mind, one that would appear every now and then.

"Hey, Dare-Bear?" she called to the man lying beside her, their bodies barely touching.

She had to hold back a laugh when she heard Daryl mumble under his breath to not call him that. He replied, nevertheless, more audibly, "Yeah? Wha', Kit-Kat?"

"Have ya ever thought of leavin' this town?"

He glanced to her in the corner of his eye. "Like fer good?"

"Yeah," she nodded, eyes focused up above. "Just leave. Leave all this bullshit behind. Have some…freedom, I guess. Just go."

Daryl turned his head to look at the female skeptically. "Where da Hell's dis comin' from?"

She just shrugged a shoulder flippantly. "I don't know. Just a thought, y'know? Comes to mind every now and then." A thought when things got really touch with her family or simply when she would meet those said out-of-towners.

Rolling onto his side, the hunter propped his head up by his hand to gaze down at him. He sipped on his beer idly as he studied her features, searching her eyes. Then, he inquired, "Would you leave?"

Eyes of warm, pale green looked up at him. "Only if ya went with me."

"…Me?"

Daryl's eyebrows shot up as he felt his insides squirmed in an odd way.

Katherine pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, a bit wary about his expression, but nodded. '"eah. If I wanted to leave, I'd want ya to come with me."

"Why?" He couldn't understand why she would want him of all people to leave with her if she ever felt the urge to.

"Why not?" was her almost defensive response, furrowing her eyebrows.

''Cuz…'cuz wha' am I ta ya dat would make ya leave wit' me?"

Was he really that blind? He had to have known how much she cared about him? Maybe she cared a lot more about than she'd like to admit, feelings that grown as she had, but he had to have known that in many ways, Daryl was her best friend. Sometimes, when things were really bad, she thought—foolishly—that he was her only reason for living. He had helped her through so much and she hoped that she returned the favor. They had been through a lot together. He was her rock. She…he meant a great deal to her.

Katherine reached up to caress her thumb across his dirt smudged cheek, causing him to stiffen at first, so she paused. Then, when he relaxed, if only a little, she continued to trace down his face until she reached the small hairs along his jawline, but mostly on his chin and upper lip. "Daryl, Dare-Bear, you're my best friend. And despite how our families feel about us and make us feel, I care about you. Ya make me happy and I wouldn't want to leave that and you behind."

Daryl was at a loss for words, the squirming feeling in his stomach increasing from her confession, from the emotion behind her speech, and from her touch. He didn't know what to say to her or why it made him feel so odd. All he did know was that, deep down, he knew he felt the same. He just couldn't say it.

Katherine must've known or at least understood, cheeks brushed with a light blush of pink, for she leaned upward to press a kiss to his cheek. She smiled warmly, which quickly turned impish, taking a drag of her cigarette. "Dumbass," She blew the smoke into his face; he really could be oblivious sometimes.

He sputtered slightly and exclaimed, growling, "Ya fuckin' brat!" There was amusement in his eyes, though. She knew exactly how to play him to catch her off guard, in more ways than one. As payback, the brunet peered some of his beer on her.

She shrieked. "Daryl! You dick!" she cried through her laughter, pushing him away by his chest.

He just laughed, which mixed in with hers.

Things were so much simpler then.

How foolish she had been to think how touch and terrible her life was, how she'd wish to get away. Now, she was far away from home, her family was dead, and the world was going to Hell in a hand basket. This life was hard ad touch and that was taking it lightly. Everyone, aside from Daryl, from her old life was dead or possibly a Walker. The farm had to be in ruins. She had killed. She witnessed death and carnage. This was the escape she had never, ever wanted.

Clearly, God was playing a terrible joke on her, along with the rest of the human race. And people had always wondered why she had never believed in Him. Because He pulled things like this, He was a bully. How could anyone be so cruel to a race that He apparently loved so much?

"Hey, hey. None of that." hushed a voice that she thought would never address her with any type of kindness.

Swiftly, Katherine wiped at the tears that had streamed down her cheeks of their own accord before turning to face Shane. "Whaddya want?" the blonde asked in the most composed voice she could muster, hoping her expression matched.

"Relax," He held up his hands. "I mean ya no harm."

"Whaddya want?" she repeated, shoulders squared. She couldn't help but feel uneasy around him, especially with him sneaking up behind her. Not to mention, his story of Otis' demise struck something at her.

The tanned male made a face. "I just wanted to see if you were alright. Ya came out here all by yourself and I know ya aren't exactly 100% stable on your feet just yet."

"I'm fine. Besides, why do you care? Last I recall, you had seemed more than eager to leave me back in those woods, left to my minimal devices."

"Look, I'm sorry 'bout that. I was just looking out for the group, but…ya offered to help find Sophia and are still offering to do so. And the others and Rick seem to be okay with you, so…you're alright with me."

Katherine narrowed her eyes at him.

She didn't know how to respond to that or what to make of him. Shane rubbed her the wrong way, but he seemed to be genuine in his apology. And Katherine appreciated that. That didn't mean she trusted, though.

Nonetheless, she knew her manners and politely albeit stiffly replied, "Thank you."

Then, Katherine brushed passed him and made her way across the fields towards the campsite that the group had set up, towards the spare tent they had generously offered to her. She was about to storm inside with every intention of hiding from Shane, the others, and the emotional build up of the last week—she cursed the emotions for they had caused her to break down and were threatening to do so again. Daryl caught her, though before she could, snatching up her arm, having seen her expression.

"'ey! Wait a minute! Are ya cryin'? Wha' did dat prick, Walsh say ta ya?" His tone was protective, masking his bubbling concern.

She had avoided him ever since last night, acting like it had happened and now she was crying. And if Shane had pushed her over the edge, he was going to kill him.

Katherine just looked to him an unreadable expression, causing his grip to loosen. She shook her head, pried her arm away, and retreated into her tent. Daryl's worry only worsened, not used to her behaving in such a manner; she used to be so open with her emotions—at least with him anyway.

The hunter shot Shane a glare, hoping he'd get the hint to never approach Katherine ever again, especially not alone. After, the police officer giving his own glare, Daryl entered Katherine's tent; he needed to make sure she was all right. Except when he went inside, any words died in his throat at the sight before him.

He had never seen her so broken in his life.

He had seen her when Keith had had a few drinks and had gotten rough with her. He had seen her when her sick father would screw around with her head. He had seen her when they had to put down a horse. He had seen her nearly every anniversary of her mother's death. He had seen her after some idiot guy broke her heart. He had seen her hurt, upset, and bawling her eyes out in so many ways and it pained him in so many ways. Regrettably, at that moment, all those times seemed like nothing in comparison. This time, it felt like his heart had turned to lead.

All he could mange to say was, "Kat…"

At his voice, the blonde barely peeled the heels of her palms from her eyes, in hopes of preventing more tears, shoulders hunched and tense, to say in a tight, shaky voice, "D-Daryl, I…I just wanna go home…" He grimaced at how close to a sob it had sounded.

The brunet bit down harshly on his thumbnail. For once, he longed for home, too, for their old life.

"Yeah…"