AN: Sorry it's been so long. Having 30 stories with people asking for updates is a bit taxing and life has been getting in the way. I promised to continue, so you'll all just have to be patient.

I feel like I need a marching song for this story. Anyone got a good one? Also, they're getting the hell away from Georgia and the coast. I finally decided, although Daryl did mention Montana in "Nightmares". But that wasn't all, I decided to move them inland mostly because the East coast winters SUCK. In Ontario this past winter, they got hit with 7 feet of snow. Yeah. 7 FEET. All at once. It was crazy. Anyway, let's get this freak show on the road, shall we?

Cheers.

-Shazzy

-Rations-

The food in the camp was starting to get thin, it was quite apparent. Meals were less home-cooked farm food, and more this-is-what-we-have-so-be-thankful. Things were getting stewed together more frequently and even then the broth was thin.

Daryl had had enough. He didn't care what the others thought, he was going north.

He began packing a few survival things, bottled water, dried squirrel meat, extra crossbow bolts. He was going to hoof it, head to the city nearby, get what he could and book it north. He made sure that he would come back for Carol, though. It was the least that he could do.

She would wait for him, and he wouldn't abandon her, so it all worked out.

He hoisted his backpack onto his shoulder and stepped out of his tent.

Rick was standing outside, waiting for him.

"Shit." Daryl cursed. "What d'you want from me?"

"Where are you going?" Rick replied.

"Supply run." Daryl said flatly. "I'm done with the damn group. I'm going north, so I'm going to get supplies."

"And if the group decided that they want to follow your lead?"

Daryl stopped. Had he heard Rick right?

"So now it's a good idea?" Daryl spat. "You damn yuppies never listen to me, y'all always argue and in the end you take a damn vote. I'm in a part of your little democracy anymore." He growled, moving to shove past Rick.

Rick grabbed Daryl's arm, effectively stopping him from walking away in anger.

"Listen, Daryl." Rick said slowly. "I owe you more than I care to admit. To be honest, I don't give a shit about the rest of the group. I care about Lori and Carl above everything else. You've been a good friend, and a valuable asset to me, to the group."

"So?" Daryl sneered.

"So," Rick continued. "I talked to Herschel. Supplies are thinner than we'd thought. There's just no way this farm can support everyone through the winter. Even if we manage to grow some extra crops in the next few weeks, we're more of a burden than a help."

Daryl grew very still and quiet. "Does anyone else know?" He asked.

"No." Rick replied, shaking his head. "I haven't mentioned this to anyone yet. I thought that you oughta be the first to know."

Daryl shot Rick a hard glance. "Why me?"

"Because you're the only one who has the skills we need – we, as in the group – to survive." Rick explained. "You're smart, you know what it means to survive like this."

"In the backwoods?" Daryl asked. "Like a Goddamn animal?"

"Your words, Dixon, not mine." Rick growled. "I know damn well you care a lot more than you let on."

Daryl opened his mouth to argue but Rick silenced him with a wave of his hand.

"Lemme talk, dammit." Rick demanded.

Daryl pursed his lips, but nodded.

"I know you care about what happens to Carol. Everyone knows that." Rick began slowly. "You play the tough guy but you wouldn't have mentioned anything if you didn't care about anyone else. You'd have packed up, taken Carol and left. You cared about Sophia and you look out for Carl as much as anyone else. You ain't alone anymore, Daryl. Maybe it's time you start acting like it."

Rick let go of Daryl's arm. Daryl stood silently for a long moment.

Slowly, Daryl nodded. "You're right." He said. "I ain't used to havin' anyone relying on me. Especially not a group of people who don't know anything about roughin' it. You lot are a burden and a hindrance. Back when it was me an' Merle? No problem. Shit got sorted with fists and booze. When the shit hit the fan? Fists an' more fists. I ain't cut from the same cloth as you folks. I don't play well with others. I'm in it to survive, that's it."

Daryl frowned and continued.

"Yeah, I care about Carol. The woman's lost everything, and if I can be one scrap of somethin' good for her to hold on to? Then Hell yes, I will do my damnedest to make sure she doesn't lose herself. She's the first person to ever give me the time of day, let alone to give a shot about whether I live or die." He ran his hand through his hair. "And yes, Rick, I care about your family. You treat me better'n my own brother ever did. You actually made me a part of this group of yours. As far as you and I are concerned, we're brothers.

"As for your damn group? I don't give a shit about who lives and who dies. Shane is the first person I'd like ta' see take a long walk off a short bridge, but I know that ain't gonna happen, so for now, I deal. I ain't fightin' anymore, though. If we – as a group – are moving on an' heading north? Then pull on the reins a little bit. Your lap dogs tend to bite, and I'm not gonna hesitate to euthanize a rabid dog."

A slow smirk crept across Rick's face.

"Thank you." He said earnestly. He held out his hand to Daryl.

Daryl looked at the deputy's hand for a moment before taking it. Instinctively, both men reached to embrace the other in the hug of sworn brothers everywhere.

"So what's the first move, then?" Rick asked.

Daryl arched his eyebrow questioningly.

"It's your plan, figure you can take point on it." Rick said amiably.

Daryl sighed. "First, we need to get rations, man." He said. "And fuel, and clothes. Winter's not a long way off by any stretch. And I figure we need to help Herschel replenish as much as we can. Flour, rice, canned goods, hardware and lumber, whatever we can find."

"Off to town?" Rick asked.

Daryl nodded. "Off to town."