Wow, guys...thank you so, so much for all the lovely support so far, especially on the last chapter. So far, that was the most difficult chapter since there was a big struggle in it, but you all seemed to enjoy it. So thank you. Thank you for the six reviews, the twenty-something odd follows, and the favorites as well. You're all so amazing.

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

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

Chapter: Nine

Katherine wasn't back yet.

Dusk was falling and she still wasn't back.

And though he would deny it, everyone knew that Daryl was worried; he was more fidgety than usual, distracting himself with various things and his eyes kept shooting to the entry of the woods. Frankly, everyone was getting worried. All Daryl had returned with were some verbal clues as to where Sophia might potentially be and Cherokee roses; only Carol knew of that discovery for he had given her one. So, when Katherine hadn't come back with him, they had figured that maybe—hopefully—she had stumbled upon something more. Yet when the sky had started to change colors, their thoughts had turned for the worse.

Word of a search party was brought up eventually and was just about to head out with Daryl in the lead. That was until a familiar figure appeared from the brush.

'Katherine…'

Daryl could recognize her anywhere, but she was not in good condition from what he could see. Something was wrong. Her steps were staggered as her body swayed, struggling to keep standing. Her right arm hung limply at her side while her other hand, which seemed to be carrying something wrapped up, was bleeding. Blood also smeared her face and stained her clothes. She looked like she had been from Hell and back.

Daryl's heart heaved, feeling like he had just gotten punched in the stomach, before his whole body lunged. He bolted towards her and soon, Rick, Shane, Andrea, and Glenn joined him in the sprint, rushing to Katherine's aid. When they reached her, though, she didn't care at all about her well-being.

Instead of allowing them to attend to her, she thrust out the bundle in her arm to anyone who would take it. "H-Help…Help him…" the blonde barely managed to breathe out, her voice meek. "Help h-him…please…please…"

Rick hesitantly took the bundle from her, stiffening when it moved and whimpered. Everyone went rigid. "Wha-What is it?" Glenn stammered, swallowing thickly.

The police officer just shook his head before taking a deep breath and pulled away the plaid material to reveal what looked like a mistreated and neglected puppy, scrawny and crying in pain with one of his legs in an awkward angle. Gasps flittered along the group.

"Oh, my God! The poor thing!" gasped Andrea.

"H-Help…" Katherine spoke again, but it faded away as her eyes rolled back into her head. Daryl, who's attention had been more on her than some dog, was instantly on her as her knuckles buckled beneath her. A curse left his pursed lips, scooping the swooned woman up into his arms,

He didn't even bother waiting for the others, not caring even in the slightest about the injured canine in Rick's arms, as he took off back towards the house to get her to Hershel as fast as his legs could take him. Anger flowed through his veins like fire, marring his features, masking the deep-rooted concern the motionless body of his best friend.

He knew they shouldn't have searched separately. He should've insisted.

Everything hurt.

So much so that Katherine didn't know what hurt more. Everything ached and throbbed. She felt like she had been run over by a truck or had been attacked by Walkers.

Oh, wait…

The Walkers. She had been attacked by two f them while searching for Sophia. Instead of finding the little girl, she had stumbled upon an abandoned puppy.

'Oh, God! The puppy!'

Gasping, Katherine's eye snapped open as her body shot up only for the bedroom to spin, causing her to groan as her stomach churned.

…Wait, bedroom?

"Careful there," came Maggie's voice from beside her, gently laying Katherine back against the pillows. "You've got a nasty concussion."

"Th-The puppy…the puppy…" Katherine sounded weak and hoarse. "Is he…?" 'Oh, God. Let him be alive. Please.'

The pretty brunette smiled warmly. "Scout's doing just fine. Just a broken leg. Eatin' up a storm. He's with Carl. Two peas in a pod already those." she reassured.

The blonde let out a sigh of relief. "Thank God." Then, she blinked and her eyebrows furrowed. "Wait…Scout?"

"That's the lil' guy's name on his collar."

"Oh. Suiting."

Maggie let out a small laugh then, asked, "What about you? How do you feel?"

"Like complete and utter shit."

"I'm not surprised. You had managed to get a concussion and dislocated your shoulder." piped up Hershel as he, Rick, and Carol—but no Daryl, much to Katherine's disappointment.

'Oh, good. A crowd.'

"That's what happens when ya fall outta of a tree." she admitted, shifting a bit uncomfortably now at the concerned stares about the room; she was only partially relieved that the whole group wasn't around.

"What happened?" Rick asked gently.

Inwardly, Katherine groaned; she wasn't really in a storytelling mood. Nevertheless, she indulged, "I saw this house. Abandoned. And there was a tree house there. Heard a noise, I checked it out. Kid like tree houses, right? But the dog was there instead. I felt for it, couldn't leave it, yknow? And well, two Walkers, guess they were the original owners or something, thought I couldn't leave in general. Pulled me from the tree house. Stronger motherfuckers. I managed to kill 'em, but barely. Shocked I managed to drag my ass back here, honestly."

Her weary, green eyes turned to Carol, who had perched herself on the edge of her bed. "I'm sorry I didn't find your daughter, Carol. I really am."

The other woman had tears in her eyes, but gave Katherine a kind, wet smile. "I'm just grateful that you're alright, hon," she told her softly. "We all are."

Rick gave a concurring nod, his own smile on. "You did a very noble thing."

Embarrassed, her gaze adverted everyone's, not used to being complimented and fussed over so much; it was slightly unsettling. "…Don't mention it."

Quickly, the blonde changed the subject, addressing Hershel, "When can I get out of this bed, Doc?"

"Well, you woke up, which is always a good sign with a concussion, but I don't think you should be doing anything too strenuous, especially not tonight. I can allow you to stretch your legs a bit, take a shower, and change into fresh clothes, but then, I want you back in this bed." the veterinarian explained sternly.

That wasn't exactly what she had wanted to hear, but she'd take it. For now. "Fair enough," she conceded. "Can I do that now?"

Through the pain, she felt sticky and gross with mud, blood, and whatever else. A shower, hopefully with hot water, and a change of clothes sounded real lovely.

Hershel nodded and turned to his daughter. "Help her out, please. Make sure she doesn't move that arm too much." he instructed.

Maggie complied and helped Katherine out of the floral bed—with some support from Rick since Katherine's legs felt like jelly—to guide her steadily along out of the room to head towards the bathroom. However, while they were doing so, Katherine noticed Daryl was lingering in the hallway, leaning against the wall. The two women paused, expecting him to say something; maybe ask how his friend was feeling.

Alas, that was not the case.

All he did was give Katherine a heated, almost repulsed, glare before turning away and walking off. Her heart dropped within her tightened chest, dumbfounded and hurt by the amount of fury and lack of concern in his eyes.

"Hey," Maggie called, softly, her own frown marring her face at Daryl's behavior. She tried ushering Katherine along, "Lets get you cleaned up."

Katherine just allowed Maggie to lead her along.

The shower had been more than welcomed with the wonderful massaging spray and heated water, but the sundress that Maggie had put her in was not.

It was Beth's as they had more similar builds and pretty and simple, but Katherine was not the least bit pleased to be wearing it. Maggie had said it was easier to put on considering the makeshift sling for her injured arm—and it was true—and Katherine had worn dresses before, but that was a long time ago. Dresses were unnecessary these days whether it accommodated a dislocated shoulder or not and Katherine was not comfortable with it.

Nevertheless, the woman had more pressing issues on her mind. Like the look Daryl had given her earlier.

It bothered her heavily as she quietly ate her dinner, back in the bed she had woke up in upon Hershel's instruction. Everyone else was in the house's dining room, chatting quietly and a bit awkwardly. Katherine's only dining partner was Scout, who was currently sprawled on the bed, surprisingly nestled against her, asleep and broken leg bandaged; he was already looking better when Carl had sweetly brought the canine in. As Katherine thought, she idly stroked his now clean and heated fur.

Her thoughts were only broken when there was a knock at her door for a moment, heart leaping, Katherine hoped it was Daryl.

Dale came in with a thick paperback in his hands. "Hey, Kat. How are you feeling?" he asked, worry set on his wrinkled face.

People had been asking her that all night, ever since she woke up, and though she appreciated the concern, it was starting to grade on her nerves.

"Just peachy," she replied dryly. "What's up? Whatchya got there?" With her "good" hand—her left was wrapped from her bite, which she hoped no one freaked out about—she indicated to the book in his hand.

"Like Stephen King? Not one of his bests in my opinion, but I figured it'd entertain ya since you can't draw right now." he told her with a shrug and held the novel out. "Would've brought better books if I had known the world was ending."

Katherine managed a meager smile at Dale's mild joke. "Thanks." she said with genuine gratitude at she took the book from him.

"You're welcome."

Katherine had suspected that dale would leave it at that and leave, but when silence fell and Dale continued to stand there with an intent expression, she knew that he had come for something else other than to bring the book. Katherine a vague idea as to what that something else was since Dale seemed to be so in tune with people, but she was not entirely sure that she was willing to discuss it with him; it was a private manner. Then again, the main subject seemed like he wasn't exactly in a talking mood towards her.

Either way, against her better judgment, she spoke, "Ya wanna talk about Daryl, don't you?"

"I think I should be asking you that." he countered.

"…I don't know what there is to say, Dale. He's apparently mad at me and I don't know why."

"Really? You can't think of a single reason?"

She looked to him, searching his face before a skeptical expression appeared, realization hitting her. 'He can't honestly be angry with me 'cuz I got hurt, is he? Its not like I did it on purpose! I didn't ask for those Walkers to attack me!"

"I didn't say you did, Kat, and Daryl knows that, too."

"Then, what the fuck is his problem?" Katherine demanded, irritably. God, her head was hurting; it wasn't helping her patience at all.

"I think he's more mda at himself, truthfully." Dale said gingerly.

"…What?"

"He's mad that he wasn't there to protect you from getting hurt. He's mad because he thinks he could've prevented it."

"That doesn't make a lick of sense. He couldn't have known any of what happened would."

"I didn't say his reasoning was rational. I'm just saying how he probably feels. He's been moping all night."

"Well, then he needs to fuckin' suck it up," Katherine retorted. "I'm a grown woman. I don't need a fuckin' babysitter. I don't need to be protected. I ain't Daryl's fuckin' problem and he needs to realize that. I handled those Walkers just fine on my own. Sure, I got hurt, but shit happens. And if he's got a problem with that, he better grow a pair and say it to my fuckin' face. I'm tired of being coddled."

"Kat," Dale tried to begin, frowning.

"No. I've said my piece, Dale, and you can relay that to him. I'm done."

"Kat, you're being-"

"I said, I'm done, Dale."

Dale just stared at her, sadness in his eyes. He wished to say more, get Katherine to see that Daryl just cared about her, but her rigid and heated demeanor told him that she would not listen to another word. Thus, with a sigh, Dale turned to leave. "Enjoy the book." were his departing words.

She said nothing.

He closed the door behind him, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. That woman was just as bad as Andrea. His eyes then opened when he suddenly felt a presence in front of him.

Daryl.

And he appeared more livid and perhaps more crestfallen than before.

"Daryl…" Dale breathed. "Daryl, maybe you should-"

Daryl had already whipped around and was taking off down the hallway.

Dale sagged.

'These two…'

If they only realized how much they cared about each other.