I'm absolute trash; I swear I didn't mean to forget about this story.

Healing was a slow process.

Okay, maybe he was exaggerating a little bit.

Actually he was exaggerating a lot.

His wounds were healing rather quickly and the persistent ache had dulled enough for him to be unhindered, though he still couldn't shift. Despite all that though, Hershel was reluctant to let him leave the house; the old man had been telling him that he didn't want the hybrid to catch infection by wandering around the farm, even though the risk of infection had been long gone, and Carol wasn't much better.

It was obvious they were hiding something from him and it frustrated him to absolutely no end. He certainly wasn't a pup and he didn't need protection from whatever was happening. He was a grown man for fucks sake; he could handle whatever they were hiding from him.

With that thought in mind, he tried to escape. It wasn't easy. He was too big to worm his way out through one of the windows, and someone had taken it upon themselves to close the door when there was no one in the room to 'supervise him'. With a lack of thumbs he had absolutely no chance of getting the door open.

So despite Hershel's protests, he puts all of his training as a younger brother to training and does his best to annoy his caretakers until they get frustrated enough with him to just let him leave the bedroom. He paces around the room – taking careful care to not walk on the rug so his nails would click on the hardwood floor – but even after doing that all hours of the night, the only response he had gotten for it was an exasperated looking Maggie who ushered him back into bed and stayed with him, patting his fur and coaxing him back to sleep.

Fucking rude.

Deciding that the first attempt wasn't enough, he redoubled his efforts, doing laps around the room, jumping on the bed and jumping off the bed constantly and whining as loud as he could. That had got Hershel running into the room – who knew that an old man like him could move so fast – and he had taken the opportunity while he had it, brushing past the farmer and running towards the door.

Unfortunately, the old man had realised his plan and closed the door, catching Daryl as he was halfway through it.

Honestly, the door hitting him had more shocked him rather than hurt him, but either way he let out a yelp, which had Hershel glancing at him worriedly and momentarily forgetting about his great escape.

He took the moment while it was there, and ran. He felt the elderly farmer try to grab him by the scruff of the neck but he was too slow. He let out a victorious bark and found himself faced with yet another problem.

The front door.

He willed his injuries to heal up completely before Hershel could get him so he could shift to a form that had thumbs, but the world was cruel and refused to grant his wish. With a huff of resignation, he turned to watch the old farmer enter the room.

"Thought you'd be able to pull one over me, did you?" Hershel asked, looking rather amused. He waits as though he's expecting an answer and Daryl snorts at him. The farmer sighs. "Let me check your injuries and make sure you didn't pull any stitches and then I'll consider letting you out."

Daryl bares his teeth but after a moment he complies because really, he has no other way of getting out unless he stays by the door all day in the hope that he's quicker than the person who's trying to get in or out and he really doesn't like the idea of that because Hershel probably would tell people to climb through a window or to not enter the house at all.

Hershel's hands are gentle as he examines the wound, but it doesn't mean that it doesn't hurt when he touches around the area where the arrow pierced. A yelp breaks free without his permission and instinctively, he twists and catches Hershel's wrist in his jaws and growling warningly. Despite that, the old man doesn't look overly terrified, more concerned in that vet kind of way of his. He hums and sighs.

"Take it easy." He opens the door and Daryl is off, feet meeting the ground of the farm immediately and it feels good, it feels amazing compared to the feeling of the floorboards and he does a lap, just to burn off the energy before going and finding his pack.

They're really not all that hard to find though. The sound of arguing meets his ears soon enough and he follows that, footsteps quiet. He can already tell it's Rick and Shane going at it – strange how the two best friends seemed to be falling apart, though Daryl couldn't really say he was surprised. He could literally smell the betrayal on Shane, – but he can hear the occasional chiming in of other voices. The words aren't really words until he gets closer though.

"Listen Rick, I ain't saying we have to put him down or anythin' but he's a risk."

So they're talking about him then. Without him meaning to, his ears press back to lay flat against his head and he growls the slightest bit.

"Daryl has had plenty of time to make a move if he wanted to kill us though." Glenn argues. "He's not like his brother, and even Merle didn't attack us."

"He's a hybrid!" Shane snaps and it's harsh like a whip and he'd like to say that no, he didn't flinch at all, but he did. It reminds him far too much of the words that had been uttered to him over and over again, from schoolmates to hunters who hunted his kind for sport. He feels slightly nauseous and a little part of him wished that Hershel had just locked him in that god damned room. Despite that, he slinks closer.

"He hasn't harmed anyone." Rick says quietly.

"But who's to say he won't, Rick?" Lori asks harshly. "What if he gets angry at us all and attacks us? What if he attacks Carl?"

"Mom!" Carl sounds indignant. "It's Daryl!" Huh. At least the kid was on his side.

"Exactly!"

"Let's be reasonable about this." Of course Dale is trying to be placating, though it doesn't seem to work at all. The others just brush him off.

"Daryl has been searching day and night for Carol's little girl." Andrea says quietly, and god does Daryl thinks he might die of shock. Blondie is actually on his side? Amazing. "If he really had plans to kill us all, I doubt he'd be spending almost all his time looking for her."

"Nothing good can come out of having a hybrid around." Shane says firmly, and fucking hell this guy Is getting on his nerves and if Daryl had been Merle, he might have taken a bite of him by now. But he isn't Merle, so he just growls to announce his presence.

They all turn on him, all looking ready to eliminate any threat and they hardly look relieved when they see it's just him.

"See? He just growled at us all!" Lori snaps. "Who's to say he won't be more violent next time?"

Maybe it's stupid of him to even think about it, but he slowly pads through the group and weaves around Lori and Shane who are standing protectively by Carl. He snarls the slightest bit and turns to stare at Lori when her hands dig into the fur around the scruff of his neck, but he doesn't take action. He just stares her down for as long as he can and waits for her to turn away from his gaze before slowly walking to Carl.

He bows his head and feels a lot like a dog, which makes him feel fucking stupid but this was the best possible way to show them that he wasn't looking to them for a three course meal, he was looking to them as a pack. He stops in front of the kid and huffs the slightest bit when he slowly reaches out and pats his head like he's a golden retriever or some shit.

"Shane, don't." Rick commands, and Daryl turns. His lips pull back to show his teeth when he sees that Shane's holding a gun – didn't Hershel say no weapons were to be carried on the farm? – and is pointing it at him. Though Daryl knows that Shane has a fairly decent aim, he can't help but stand up as tall as he can and nudge the kid backward, standing protectively in front of him. It's pure instinct and he growls at the former police officer.

"Shane." Carl calls and shakes his head. "He's not gonna hurt me. See?" The kid tangles his fingers into Daryl's fur and tugs softly. The wolf himself hardly moves an inch.

"Put the gun away." Rick says firmly and reaches for the weapon when the other man doesn't move, ripping it away from his grip and flicking on the safety though Daryl doesn't move an inch. He stares Shane down for a long moment before turning towards Carl.

He's never really noticed the kid all that much, though it's ingrained in him to protect the 'pups', and he takes a long look at the kid. He's a fair bit taller than Daryl thought he was but he's still small.

Apparently Carl notices that he's still small too, and in a moment of bravery he pushes down on the wolf until Daryl gets that the kids wants for him sit down. With a huff, he does so though the kid still isn't pleased, pushing down on his shoulders until he lies down.

Daryl is kind of stuck between 'who the hell does this kid think he is' and 'what the hell does this kid think he's doing' and sends an imploring look towards Rick, who merely shrugs. The whole camp is watching them now, standing in silence and making him feel far too awkward.

"Carl." Lori says warningly, but the boy ignores her and kneels down next to the wolf, leaning over to whisper in his ear. His giddy tone makes him sound young, but the question makes him sound so much younger.

"I'm not allowed to ride on the horses, can I ride on your back instead?"

It's a strange question, but admittedly, Daryl's been asked stranger ones – he grew up with Merle for fucks sake, he's been asked if bees knew that they were bees – and he rather likes the kid, so he huffs but doesn't get up.

The kid slings a leg over his body and ignores the "Carl what the hell are you doing?!"s and once Daryl is sure the kid is safe, he slowly lifts himself up and gives Rick a very long look and huffs again before starting to walk at a very slow pace. Carl has his fingers all wrapped up in his fur and is tugging infuriatingly and they both ignore Lori's annoyed yelling but Daryl does walk past Rick and lets the father whisper into his ear to keep his kid safe and to not strain himself too much.

It's hard work to walk around at a pace that wouldn't throw the kid off, and despite the fact that his injuries were almost healed, they were still rather tender and the kid seemed rather intent on – accidentally of course – disturbing them.

"Faster." Carl tells him excitedly, and Daryl moves into a loping walk and pretends to ignore that the camp is watching them, Lori almost looking amazed and then finally, the bitchy expression is wiped off her face when her son laughs loudly when Daryl has to slightly jump over a rocky patch. It's been quite a while since they've heard the kid laugh and every single one of them soak up the sound of it.

Even Carol drags herself outside to come see what all the commotion is about, and Daryl looks at her for half a moment to make sure that she was holding up and was still staying strong.

She was smiling.

That's all that mattered.

Yes, I know I haven't updated since October but really, what can I say? I wouldn't normally make excuses but lately my time has been taken up with Nanowrimo ('but aerotes that was in november!'). Editing 70k worth of words is hard, kiddies.

Anyway, hopefully this (terrible) chapter that has been scrapped about fourty times is enough to make up for the wait, and if not, I did upload three new Bethyl fanfics. (Productivity for the win.)

-Aerotes,