Disclaimer: This is a purely fan-based story. I'm not making any money from this!
Because of her exhaustive days spent learning to hunt, Lia excused herself from nighttime lookout duty - mainly because Nana threatened to slip her a sedative if she didn't. There was nothing to stop her from checking up on whoever was on duty, however.
Jessie turned her night-vision binoculars towards the sound of footsteps behind her. The binocs - one of two pairs - were an unexpected treasure discovered tucked behind the counter of the same sporting goods store where they all got their bows and arrows. Without them they would not have been able to continue the watch beyond sunset, which would've left them vulnerable to nighttime attacks. Marco patrolled the opposite end of the roof with a second pair. As in daytime, the two lookouts spent their shift walking a slow circle of the roof's perimeter, always on opposite sides to view the most area.
Seeing it was Lia approaching, Jessie turned her attention back to guarding. "Hey," she said by way of greeting.
Lia positioned herself beside her, keeping pace with the girl's slow march. "How's it going?"
"Same as always. Slow." She cast a brief glance at the woman. "Shouldn't you be asleep?"
Lia snorted. "You sound like Nana. I'll be rested enough for my next early morning trek through the woods, don't worry."
The thirteen-year-old bit her lip. "I don't like you goin' out there alone with that guy."
"Why not?"
"He scares me. He reminds me of..." She touched the side of her face, the bruises all but faded by now.
Lia sobered. "He's not like that man."
"He gets in people's faces all the time. Says nasty things and pick fights."
"But did you notice," Lia said gently, "that he never acts that way towards you kids, and hardly ever to the women? It's mostly the other men he antagonizes. What does that tell you?"
Jessie frowned, but not from annoyance. That little crease between her eyebrows meant that the girl was thinking it through. "It tells me," she spoke carefully, "that a man hurt him when he was younger. Maybe his dad?"
Lia placed an arm around Jessie's shoulders. "I think you may be right, unfortunately. You remember how Marco used to be. How he kept lashing out at the other boys, but never did anything to the girls. And when he finally told us about his life before the walkers, he said his father used to beat him and his mom."
Jessie nodded, a gesture the woman couldn't see, but felt the movement through her arm draped over the girl.
"But that guy's mean to you. Everybody hears him, the things he calls you."
"Like you said, we spend a lot of time together. Getting close to anyone's gotta be hard for him. What if he gets hurt?" Lia hadn't thought of any of this before trying to explain it to Jessie. The more she talked, the more she understood about Daryl's behavior, and the sadder for him she became. "I'm not saying he isn't prejudiced. I'm guessing he does believe some of the things he says about other kinds of people, just not as much as he pretends to."
"How can you tell?"
Lia thought about how Daryl occasionally teased Glenn, not maliciously, but almost playful. And how, even when he seemed belligerent, he still deferred to Nana Shino, who never treated him any less kindly for all his recalcitrance. And how, when Lia succeeded at something he taught her during their daily hunts, he almost smiled at her. "I just can."
A long pause, then, "D'you like him?"
"Do I what?" Lia exclaimed, startled by Jessie's sudden change in tack.
"The way you talk about him, it's...I dunno. Your voice gets this sound to it."
Lia's first impulse was a flat-out denial. Like him? That's ridiculous! But then she hesitated. Sometimes, the harsher things Daryl said to her hurt. Lia had met her share of bigots in her life - a half-Indian in a town of mostly whites, an atheist in the Bible Belt - it was an inevitable hazard. She'd long ago stopped letting what people like that said affect her. They weren't friends, they weren't family, they didn't matter. But there were moments when Daryl uttered something she'd easily shrugged off numerous times before, yet this time it stung. What he said, what he thought of her, it mattered.
"I don't know how I feel about him," Lia said.
They patrolled in silence for a while, Lia's arm still around Jessie, the girl staring out into the darkened world through crystal lenses. Then Jessie finally broke the silence in a voice that was beyond her years. "I know you came up here 'cause you're worried about me still. I wanted to tell you I'm okay. I really am."
Lia swallowed. "I know you are, honey. You're made of strong stuff."
"I worry about you, though," Jessie said, "All of us do. You're not like you used to be before...before you killed that man."
"I'm still having some trouble sleeping," Lia admitted.
"It's not just that. You don't laugh so much anymore."
"I still laugh."
"But not like you used to. Only time you seem happy's when you come back from hunting." And now Lia heard the faint smirk in the girl's tone. "With Daryl."
"Are we back to that?" Lia asked, amused in spite of herself, "I told you, I don't like him."
"You said you don't know," Jessie corrected.
The adult sighed. "I thought you said he scared you. Now you're trying to pressure me into saying I like him?"
"If he helps you get better," Jessie declared quietly, "I won't be scared of him anymore."
Tears stung Lia's eyes. She halted them both and hugged the girl. "You know I love you, right?"
"I know, Lia. I love you, too."
She drew back, wiped her eyes with the heel of her hand. "I better try to get some sleep. Gotta be up early again. More hunting lessons from our resident expert."
"G'night, Lia."
"Night, sweetheart."
She descended the stairs with a heavy heart. It doesn't matter what I might feel for him, she thought, He'll be leaving soon. It had been announced earlier at dinner; Rick succeeded in convincing everyone in his group that it was best for them to continue on to Fort Benning. They would leave within the next few days. It was true fewer mouths meant supplies would last longer, requiring fewer risky scavenging trips into the city. But strong friendships had been made in the nearly two weeks the group had been staying in this little community. Their departure would sadden everyone on both sides. Lia and Nana would miss having other adults to talk to. Carl and Sophia would miss having other playmates. The travelers would miss the stability of living in the old office building. And Lia, in total honesty with herself, knew she would miss Daryl.
She walked ahead of him, her silent footsteps filled with confidence. They were tracking a deer, or rather Lia was. Daryl hung back to observe. He was amazed by how far the woman had progressed in such a short span of time, due greatly in part to her stubborn determination. If she succeeded in felling this deer, it would be the largest kill she'd made to date. There would be a celebration, a feast. Both to congratulate Lia's prowess and to say farewell to the soon-to-be-departing group.
Daryl stared at Lia as she stalked her prey, as he had numerous times before on their excursions. But it wasn't her abilities as a hunter that he was observing. Something disturbing was happening to him lately. His eyes kept being drawn towards her. It was a compulsion he didn't understand. He just knew that even when they were on opposite sides of a crowded room, his gaze inevitably sought her out. Thankfully, she never caught him looking at those times. Here, though, Daryl didn't need an excuse to watch her. But that only served to irritate him more. At her, at himself, at this inexplicable hold she had on him. The fact that she was oblivious to it was the only reason he hadn't confronted her. Her awareness would just make things worse. She might pity him or laugh at him, either of which would've earned her a slap and him a smackdown from Rick Do-Gooder Grimes and his sidekick Shane. Daryl didn't need that shit now, not when they were close to leaving this place. He would just have to deal with this problem on his own 'til then.
He watched her now. Sunlight fell through the trees and dappled her skin. Her natural bronze color took on a golden cast in the light. Her movements were as graceful as the creature she stalked.
The sooner he could put her far behind him, the better.
Lia paused and a faint smile touched her lips. "I see him," she whispered.
Daryl moved to stand behind and to her right, so as not to impede her bow arm. He peered over her shoulder and saw what she saw. In a thicket less than a hundred feet from them stood a tall buck, its antlers encased in velvet. A tuft of grass dangled from its mouth, which it chewed absently as it scanned its surroundings, large ears swiveling to catch the faintest sounds.
"He's beautiful," Lia breathed. The deer's head turned in their direction, alert but not alarmed. It regarded them with deep, thoughtful eyes and swallowed its mouthful of grass. Neither human moved. Daryl noticed a trickle of sweat wend its way down the side of the woman's neck and felt a strange urge to lean in and lick it from her skin. He was so taken aback by this that he didn't even notice when she raised her bow and took aim. His feet moved of their own accord, inching him closer to her. She didn't seem to notice, her attention focused solely on the deer. Daryl was near enough for his breath to stir the stray hairs that had loosened from her braids. Her body fairly sang with tension. Her lips parted to let out a shaky exhale. Daryl's fingers brushed against the small of her back.
Lia gasped and released the arrow. It sailed over the deer's back, startling the animal which trotted off and vanished into the surrounding trees. Lia let her arms drop to her sides, eyes cast down to the dirty toes of her shoes. Daryl took a step away, his mind a whirl of confusion. The awkwardness stretched between them until it seemed something might snap.
"Let's go," Daryl said, abruptly taking the lead. He held his crossbow at the ready and followed the buck's trail. Lia followed, wondering what had just happened between them. Neither of them spoke as they continued their hunt. Whatever comfort-level they'd achieved was blown away like vapor, leaving a strained silence in its wake.
Lia noticed that the deer's tracks veered back towards the industrial park. Her stomach twisted as she recognized certain landmarks; they were nearing the place where Jessie was attacked.
Unaware of the woman's hesitance, Daryl pushed on. They rounded a small rise and came to a sudden deep trench where an old, forgotten pipeline had collapsed. The instant he saw what lay at the bottom of this trench, Daryl froze, eyes wide in disbelief. Lying on its side, dead saplings leaning drunkenly against it, was a white cube van. He could clearly make out a company logo painted on its side, white letters on a red field spelling the words Ferenc Builders.
"Jesus fuckin' Christ."
"What?" Lia asked, a sense of dread creeping up on her.
Instead of answering, Daryl leaped over the side and half dropped, half skidded down into the trench. He somehow managed to keep his feet when he hit the bottom and ran to the fallen van. He scrambled onto the overturned cab and peered down through the driver's side window. Empty. He straightened and stared frantically at the surrounding wilderness.
"Merle?" he called, "Merle! You out there?"
Lia stood on the edge of the trench, gazing down at him. Her dread turned into horrified certainty. "Daryl..."
"Merle! Answer me so I can find you! MERLE!"
"Daryl!"
He spun to look up at her. "My brother was drivin' a van like this when we lost him. He's hurt real bad."
"There's no one here," Lia said, her voice unsteady. Daryl was too caught up in his own turmoil to notice.
"I gotta find him." He climbed back up to level ground and began searching for some sign of which way to go.
"Y-you don't know it was him-"
"He was drivin' that van!" he yelled, finger stabbing towards the vehicle.
Lia swallowed. "There's gotta be hundreds of vans like that one," she argued.
Daryl shook his head. He paced back and forth, eyes boring into the ground in search of some stray footprint, some hint of where his brother might have gone. But whatever trace there was had been washed away in the big storm. "It's him. It's gotta be him. They left him on the roof of that store, those fuckers. Grimes 'n' the others, they handcuffed Merle and just left him there. When we went back t' get him he...he used a hacksaw t' cut through his wrist."
Lia's eyes widened. "What?" It came out as a whisper.
"He wound up stealin' our cube van, that van," he pointed, "and we thought he'd be headed back for camp, but we found the place overrun with geeks instead. And then Grimes got it in his head t' go to th' CDC and...and I went with 'em." He stopped his hopeless searching and looked at Lia, his blue eyes filled with grief and guilt. "I went 'cuz I didn't wanna get left behind. I stopped lookin' for him. What kinda asshole just stops lookin' for his brother?"
"I understand," Lia murmured sadly, "I do. But he isn't here, Daryl. Nobody is."
For a moment she thought he would cry, but then he got hold of himself, forced back the tears. "I gotta find him," he repeated, "Gotta keep lookin'." He started towards the deeper woods.
Lia quickly blocked his path. "You can't go in there on your own."
"Fuckin' watch me." He shoved her aside. Lia stumbled, regained her balance, and hurried after him.
"There are walkers in these woods, you know that. They're running out of food in the city and heading out there." And as much noise as he was making, they were bound to come after him.
Daryl ignored her. He marched with a determined set to his jaw, all stealth forgotten.
"You don't even know that he's alive-"
"He's family!" Daryl rounded on her with a violent suddenness that made her stumble back in fear. "Doncha get it, you stupid bitch? He's all I got! I ain't gonna leave him out there to rot." He started to walk away again.
Worry for his safety made Lia reckless. She reached out to grab his arm. "Please. Don't-"
It was like a jump-cut in a movie. Lia blinked, and the next thing she knew she was on the ground. She tasted blood in her mouth and realized her bottom lip was split. Only then did the pain register. She looked up to see Daryl towering over her. He was trembling, his right hand clenched in a fist. It was difficult to tell which of them was more shocked by what he'd done.
Daryl looked away as Lia rose unsteadily to her feet. She spat blood onto the ground and looked at him, at the shame and anguish she saw in him.
"Please come back with me."
Daryl's eyes squeezed shut and his face contorted with sorrow. Then he gave his head a shake and smoothed his expression. When he finally started walking, he headed away from the woods, towards the industrial park. His footsteps were slow and heavy.
Lia cast one last look down at the overturned van, then followed Daryl towards home and the consequences they would both have to face.
A/N: This doesn't really have anything to do with my fic, but I wanted to share it with you all. There's a certain suspicion I have about the end of the fourth episode where the camp was overrun, and I wonder if I'm not the only one to think this; maybe Merle got his revenge after all. Maybe he used that van to give the walkers a lift out to the camp. Seems plausible, doesn't it?