A/N: So the votes are in and the boys will meet at the prison. Lori will live and I'm thinking she might be a good guy. I might pair her with Connor but I'm not sure yet.
Chapter Five
Winter was terrifying for all of them, especially after it was discovered that Lori was pregnant. Daryl worked hard to bring in more food to keep their bellies, well not full, but definitely not hungry, often giving up his portions to Lori and Carl in a way that made Rick worry for his health. He killed any and all threats that came near the camp, keeping them a secret from everyone and leaving both Rick and surprisingly, Shane to worry that he was going to run himself into the ground.
Then they found the prison.
It was a large looming structure, with sturdy stone walls and a strong but slightly damaged fence, the yard beyond it over run with the dead, but once cleared out, it could be home.
Rick glanced over at their hunter, then back at the building and smiled.
Then maybe Daryl would be able to rest.
There was a certain irony to be appreciated in his current situation.
For so long, he had avoided prisons like the plague, even breaking out of the Hoag when he'd finally landed there and now…he was living in one willingly.
Had he been the person he was before the apocalypse…he would've laughed and called it a joke, but he wasn't so he didn't.
He flat out refused to sleep in a cell, choosing to build himself a nest in the roof, in one of the more secluded area of the prison.
Most of his time was spent hunting and clearing out cells, trying to prove he was helpful and to keep his mind from the grief he felt at Carol's death. At T-Dog's death.
It seemed like the people around him, the people he was trying to protect, just kept dying and he couldn't stop it.
He snorted in disgust at his own self-pitying thoughts, ramming his blade through the skull of the walker in front of him and desperately glad he'd come to the lower catacombs alone.
If his brothers, either of them knew the direction his thoughts had been going lately, they'd kick his ass.
A soft whimper sounded from one of the solitary confinement cells and he frowned, moving toward it cautiously. Upon opening it his heart stilled.
Carol.
Her grey hair was matted with sweat and grime, and her skin was pale, almost ashen, but she was alive.
He hadn't failed her!
Something sparked in his chest, something warm and fragile. Something he'd been missing for a very long time.
Hope.
***CONNOR***
Woodbury was Hell and The Governor was The Devil.
The small community looked pleasant enough with its quaint little houses and lush green lawns, the governor's portrayal of kindness completing the picture, but for those as attuned to evil as the two former Saints, the image was transparent.
Woodbury was little more than a prison and the Governor was their warden.
The man controlled everything from when one left the community to whether or not they were allowed to carry their weapon. The only way to get away with disobeying the man was death.
Many of the others living in the community had the same blood-soaked aura as their tyrant, but some, Merle included, seemed genuine in their behavior. Due to this, the two remaining saints usually kept to themselves, seldom interacting with the others around them.
"Somethin' on yer mind, Kid?"
Connor blinked and looked up from his study of their current home to meet Merle's curious gaze and smirked.
He and the hick and become strangely good friends since his and his father's arrival in the community, their relationship based almost entirely on their love for picking on the other's culture. It was something that amused his Da greatly, and the old man had taken to the hick as well, parenting him in that stern, almost cold way he had used on them when he'd first met them so long ago.
" 'm brother. Today's our birthday."
Merle raised an eyebrow at him.
"How'dya know that? Could be any fuckin' month in tha year? How do ya know its yer birthday?"
Connor smirked and took a small pocket calendar from his coat, showing the older man the crossed off days.
" 'e made fun of me fer carryin' it. Said I would never need it and now look."
"The fuck ya need a calendar for? 'ts not like you'll check it anyways."
"Fuck you! I just need one!"
"Little shit didn't let it go for days."
Merle chuckled. "How old are y'all turning?"
Connor thought for a moment. "Thirty-one."
His friend whistled lowly and slapped him on the back, before handing him one of the hunting knives in his belt.
"Didn' get ya shit, but Happy Birthday, Kid."
Connor took it and rolled his eyes.
"Thanks old man."
***DARYL***
Daryl would be the first to admit that he had little experience with children. In his life before Merle, he had avoided them like the plague, scared that the blood on his hands would taint them before they'd even experienced the wonders of the world. He'd had similar thoughts and so they had agreed to protect the world for the innocent but avoid them so they wouldn't taint them. Then, when Merle had taken him in, children had avoided him on the word of their parents, the Dixon name notorious around the town they lived in for the horrible things that Merle's father had done in his life. After joining the Quarry group, he gone back to the mentality of protect and avoid, something Sophia and Carl hadn't allowed him.
This said, as he held Lil Asskicker in his arms, he could feel his heart melting. Rick ad Shane were both with Lori, worried that the woman wouldn't live through the night and as such the child's wellbeing had been passed to him.
The infant was small and fragile in his embrace, his tiny cheeks soft beneath the callous flesh of his thumbs and he felt love blooming in his shattered heart.
He'd been battered and beaten by the world, his faith ripped from him by the harsh reality he lived in and, as he looked down at the beautiful innocent babe in his arms, suckling harshly on the nipple of the bottle she fed with, he vowed to himself that nothing would happen to her.
As long as he lived, Judith, his lil asskicker, would be the happiest baby in this plague infested world.
TBC…