A/N: Two big chapters for ya, folks! I spent the whole weekend writing them. This one contains one of those "adult situations" I mentioned in the summary. This marks my first attempt at writing a, ahem, "self-love" scene. Not sure how good it is, but I'm sure you guys'll let me know if it's total crap.

Disclaimer: The Walking Dead still isn't mine.

Andrea was the first to see. She was going to get something from Dale's RV when Daryl stormed past her, his shoulder missing hers by a hair's breadth. The blonde threw an absent-minded glare after him - rudeness for Daryl was not uncommon - and turned to Lia. "No luck this time?" she asked. Then Lia got close enough for her to see the blood and swelling on her face. Andrea gasped. "Oh my god-"

"It's nothing," Lia mumbled, trying to brush past. But the other woman stopped her with a light grip on her arm.

"Nothing? What about your face?" Andrea's eyes narrowed in ugly suspicion. "Did Daryl do that to you?"

Lia shook her head, still not meeting her gaze. "Tree branch whipped back and got me in the face. It looks worse than it really is."

Andrea clearly wasn't convinced. "That's the kind of thing Carol used to say when her husband slapped her around."

"Well, then it's a good thing I wasn't out there with him, isn't it," Lia snapped, irritated at her prying. She yanked her arm free and continued towards the office building, giving no response when she heard Andrea call after her.

The closer she and Daryl got to the building, the more people noticed something was wrong. Just let me get inside and clean up, Lia thought. Naturally, the two people she'd hoped to avoid for the time being wound up blocking her path.

Shane looked ready to spit nails. Rick's expression was more concerned than angry. He took her shoulders in a grip that was both gentle and firm, halting her progress and yet trying not to intimidate in the process. Lia schooled her features and forced herself to meet his eyes.

"What happened?" Rick asked.

Lia calmly replied, "Nothing you need to concern yourself about."

"C'mon, Rick," Shane growled, "It couldn't 've been anybody but Dixon. I warned ya it was only a matter of time before that bastard caused trouble."

"I said this doesn't concern you," Lia said more forcefully, shaking free of Rick's grasp and trying to pass him, but again he got in her way. Lia sighed. Was this going to be the pattern for the rest of her day?

"If you're afraid for your safety," Rick began, "If Daryl threatened you in some way-"

"He didn't threaten me!" Lia all but shouted in exasperation, "I'm fine. I just wanna go inside and get cleaned up." She pushed him aside, and that was when she saw that Shane had decided to take matters into his own hands. "Daryl!"

He turned at her alarmed cry just as Shane body-slammed him. Both men toppled to the pavement and rolled in a tangle of flailing limbs. All the kids stopped their play and their chores and stared open-mouthed at this display. The adults either gaped or yelled for them to stop. Rick ran in and tried to break up the fight. T-Dog, Dale, and Glenn rushed to help. After a frantic few minutes the two combatants were finally separated. Shane was held by Rick and Glenn, while Dale and T-Dog restrained Daryl.

"You get off on knockin' women around, you redneck shit?" Shane spat, thrashing against his inhibitors.

"Fuck you!" Daryl snarled. Blood trickled down the side of his face from a small cut on his temple.

"You're always givin' everybody grief. Now you've gone too goddamn far!"

"What's he talkin' about?" Lori asked, hugging her son to her.

Her husband answered, "Daryl hit Lia."

It seemed like everyone's eyes were on her at that moment, then just as suddenly they turned to Daryl, and she felt the anger radiated by their stares. But not just that; the disgust and resentment the people of Rick's group had always felt towards Daryl, only magnified to the point that he seemed to wilt a little under the onslaught. This was what he saw in their eyes every day, now unshielded by politeness and wariness. In that instant, they didn't just dislike him, they hated him.

Lia's stomach twisted.

Rick managed to calm Shane enough to release him. Even so, his old partner looked eager to continue the brawl. With a warning glance at his friend, Rick focused his attention on the still-restrained Daryl. The disappointment in his look was almost worse than the hate.

"I really hoped you could show some sense," he said, pulling something out from his belt. Lia saw metal wink in the light. Handcuffs.

Daryl scoffed. "You arrestin' me? Case you haven't noticed, there ain't no courts anymore."

"I still have a duty to protect everyone." Rick stepped towards him. "This is just 'til we leave, then I'll take 'em off, I promise."

Lia suddenly moved between them. "You're not putting those on him at all."

Everyone froze. Lia had an arrow nocked in her bow. It was pointed at the ground, but the threat was clear.

The woman's angry glare made the hairs on the back of Rick's neck stand up.

"Do I strike you as some helpless damsel who can't take care of herself?" she asked coldly.

The former deputy shook his head. "No, ma'am."

"Let me make myself abundantly clear; I don't need or want your help. What happened out in the woods is my problem to deal with. Got it?" Her gaze encompassed Shane as well as Rick. Both men nodded, wide-eyed.

"Good." She nodded at the cuffs. "Put those things away."

Rick did so. Lia turned to the men holding Daryl. "Let him go."

Dale and T-Dog released him and wordlessly stepped back. Daryl remained glaring down at the ground in front of him. He would not look at anyone.

Lia put the arrow back in the quiver. She squeezed her eyes shut, pinched the bridge of her nose, then ran a tired hand through her tangled braids. "I've been up since four-thirty," she murmured, "and I've had a really shitty afternoon. I'm gonna go inside and get some sleep. I'm not in any mood to speak to any of you right now." Without another word, she trudged the rest of the way to the building. No one got in her way this time.

Everyone stood in uncomfortable silence. Her defending Daryl was the last thing anyone expected, and none was quite sure how to react. Daryl included. After a while people gradually drifted away until Daryl was left alone. Or so he believed. He slowly raised his head until he noticed Nana Shino standing before him. Her almond eyes regarded him clinically. "You're bleeding," she said, "Why don't you come with me so we can take care of it?"

Daryl looked away. "Don't want yer help."

The petite old woman turned and headed for the building. "It's your decision. Come along or not, it makes no nevermind to me." She mentally counted twenty-two paces before she heard heavy footsteps behind her.

Inside, Daryl sat on one of the couches in the lounge while Nana got a first aid kit. She seated herself beside him, got a square packet of gauze soaked in disinfectant from the box, and tore it open. "This may sting a bit," she warned, dabbing at his cut. Daryl didn't react. Nana finished cleaning the wound and dug out a couple of band-aids. She frowned at the wrapping on one of them. "I'm assuming you're not a SpongeBob man."

"SpongeBob's a fag," Daryl muttered.

"He's a cartoon sponge. Debating his sexuality's like arguing over whether fish prefer apples to pears."

Daryl frowned at this bizarre analogy. "What?"

Nana chuckled. "Exactly. It's totally absurd." She unwrapped a blue band-aid and carefully applied it to his cut. "There."

"Why ain't you mad at me like everybody else?" he asked, looking at her sidelong as if worried about what he might see in her expression.

Nana shrugged her thin shoulders. "It's not my place. I'm not the one you harmed. And since Lia doesn't seem to be blaming you for whatever happened, I'm guessing there were extenuating circumstances."

A muscle in Daryl's jaw twitched. "I hit her."

"Yes, we've established that. It's the why that no one seems to have considered, including yourself." She tilted her head. "Care to enlighten me as to what happened out there?"

He didn't answer. The old woman nodded. "That's alright. It's none of my business. But whatever happened, I can see you feel guilty over it."

Daryl looked at her. His Adam's apple bobbed. "My old man used t' hit my mama all the time. I hated the bastard for it. I never hit a woman 'til now."

Nana patted his arm in sympathy, startling him. "Humor an old lady by listening to a bit of advice. Wait a while, then go upstairs and tell Lia you're sorry. An apology can't make things any worse, and it might actually make things better." And with that, she picked up the first aid kit, stood, and left.

Daryl reached up and touched the band-aid on his temple.

Each floor had its own men's and women's restrooms, none of which had showers, though they did possess drains on the floor for when the tiles were washed. People took cold sink baths, or, on special occasions, heated water on the electric range and poured it into an antique tub they kept stored in a utility closet when not in use.

Lia hung the "Knock Before Opening" sign outside the ladies room and stripped out of her dusty, sweat-stained clothes. She turned on the faucet at the closest sink. Cold water gushed out. Again, that question rose in her head; how long 'til the plumbing finally failed? What would they do for water then? There might be an answer in one of her survival books, but if there wasn't, they might have no choice but to pick up and leave.

But that was a problem for the future. Lia took a breath to clear her mind. It wasn't easy.

She grabbed a washcloth and a bar of soap and scrubbed herself from head to toe, even going so far as to wash her hair. Once she dried off she scrutinized herself in the mirror. Her split lip had scabbed over. The area around it was swollen and discolored. Her jaw throbbed dully. Lia wished she had an icepack.

She wrapped herself in a towel and picked up her discarded clothing, then left the restroom, putting the sign away as she did so. In her room, she tossed her dirty clothes into a small laundry basket and dug out a T-shirt and underwear from her filing cabinet/dresser. After she put them on, Lia drew the curtains on her window and went to lie down on her mattress-bed. She lay in the dimness for what seemed like forever, unable to silence her mind long enough to drift off to sleep. Didn't help that it was another hot Georgia day. The room became stifling, even with the window open. Sweat beaded her skin within minutes.

An errant breeze stirred the curtains. Lia tossed and turned, her thoughts a whirl of confused emotions. She tried to focus, maybe figure out how to deal with everyone's ostracism of Daryl, but her thoughts kept returning to that moment before they found the cube van and everything went wrong. That moment when she had the deer in her sights and Daryl had come up behind her right shoulder, close enough to feel his breath against her neck. Her body had become as tense as the bow in her hands. Her senses had been hyper-aware of him, the heat radiating from his body, the musky, earthy scent of his sweat. Lia was afraid if she relaxed she would start shaking like a leaf. She didn't dare move, even to fell the deer just a hundred feet away from her. Then Daryl's fingers had brushed against the small of her back.

For Lia, her spine was a major erogenous zone, especially at the small of her back. The fact that she hadn't been with a man in over a year only heightened her sensitivity. That light touch from Daryl hit her like an electric shock, and the arrow flew from her bow before she even realized she'd lost her grip. The experience left her feeling jittery, as if she might fly apart. That feeling didn't really go away, even when Daryl hit her. It was like a floodgate had been opened. It was so long since Lia felt this aware of herself as a woman.

Alone in her room, at least, she could do something to ease her frustration. Lia closed her eyes and let herself slip into a fantasy. As she did so, her left hand slid down the front of her panties...

She was in the ladies room, washing the sweat and grime from her body. A pair of arms circled her waist. She smiled and leaned into the embrace, felt bare skin against her naked back. The arms crept upward until strong, square hands cupped her breasts...

Lia reached under her shirt with her other hand and touched her breast, tweaking the nipple until it was painfully hard. The pad of her middle finger on her left hand pressed against her clit, rubbing it in circles. She let out a soft moan...

The hands kneaded her breasts, thumbs stroking her jutting nipples. She pushed her hips back and felt a hard erection rub against the cleft of her ass. One of the hands abandoned her breast to travel down to her womanhood. Fingers deftly parted her folds...

Panting, she started rubbing herself harder...

She dropped to her knees. A gentle push sent her on all fours. The tiles of the restroom floor felt cool against her palms. She felt her lover position himself behind her and spread her legs in anticipation...

Lia brought the back of her free hand to her mouth to stifle her cries...

His thrusts were hard and primal. She moaned with pleasure each time their bodies met. She coaxed him with words and groans to take her harder, faster...

Lia's hips rose and fell, grinding against her hand. Her mouth opened as a series of gasps escaped her. Her eyes were closed...

She seldom bothered to look at her fantasy lover, caring only for the sensations his conjuring brought her. But this time something compelled her to turn her head and peer over her shoulder. As her climax approached, her gaze fell upon his face contorted in pleasure. Daryl's face.

Her eyes flew open as her orgasm hit. She arched her spine, throwing her head back. A long, low moan emerged from her wide-open mouth. When it finally passed, her body went limp. She lay in a sweaty tangle of bedsheets, her body's desires sated for the moment, at least. But already she felt the longing stir in her core, promising more turmoil in her future.

Lia's head rose from the pillow. A frown creased the space between her eyebrows. Was there a faint sound? The door was open a crack. She could have sworn she'd shut it all the way. Rising from the mattress, she went to push the door open further and stepped out into the hall. There was no sign of anyone else.

"Must've just forgotten to close it," she murmured to herself. She didn't quite believe herself, though.

Daryl crouched around the corner leading to the stairwell, out of Lia's immediate sight. He'd decided to take Nana's advice, much as he hated to follow other people's suggestions. He'd waited half an hour or so then went upstairs with the intent of mustering up some kind of apology to Lia. Daryl was not the sort of person who apologized easily. "Sorry" was what others forced out of you when you pissed them off. It meant submission. The fact that he was about to do so now meant the woman's strange affect on him ran deeper than he'd feared. She was doing something to him, and he worried he might lose something of himself if he let it continue.

But he knew he had to apologize to Lia for what he'd done. Not for her, but for the promise he'd made to himself when he was young. He was not going to wind up like his old man; not when it came to beating women and children, at least.

Daryl was about to knock on her door when he heard a sound like a stifled groan. He'd frozen, wondering what was going on in there. Was she hurting? Was she trying to sleep? He lowered his hand and reached for the doorknob, thinking he would just take a quick look and see whether he should come back later. Thankfully, the hinges didn't squeak. He pushed the door open the merest crack and brought his eye up to the gap. What he saw made his breath catch and his blood sing in his ears. Lia lay sprawled out on her mattress, one hand down the front of her panties. Her face seemed to glow with ecstasy as she brought herself to her peak.

All the constant reminders to himself of her racial impurity fled Daryl's mind. He wanted to burst through the door and throw himself on top of her. He wanted to see that ecstasy on her face as he fucked her. He wanted to tangle his fingers in her long braids and kiss her soft lips.

Daryl reached down the front of his pants and squeezed his throbbing erection. He stroked himself as he watched Lia, imagining she fantasized about him, though he knew that couldn't be true. If she thought of anyone while she touched herself, it would be one of the others - Shane or Rick or even T-Dog - or an old boyfriend from her past. He imagined, so clearly he could almost swear it was real, that she whispered his name when she finally climaxed. Daryl bit back a moan as he came in his pants, but some sound must have escaped, because he saw Lia raise her head and start to turn towards him. Daryl slipped stealthily away before she got the chance to see him peering in.

So he leaned against the wall, out of sight, listening to the quiet pads of Lia's bare feet as she looked down either end of the hall. Then he heard the faint click of a door latch. Daryl's shoulders slumped. Now the guilt he felt at hitting her was compounded by a swirl of emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. Lust and self-loathing, confusion and loneliness. He cradled his head in his hands, fingers mussing his already unkempt hair. He balled his right hand into a fist and thumped it against the side of his head. What the fuck is wrong with me?

He couldn't stay here. Everything about this place was breaking him down. He needed to get away.

He took a deep breath, straightened from his crouch, then started down the stairs. He would clean himself up, then grab his crossbow and head back out into the woods. Merle was out there somewhere, alive or dead. Finding him was all that should matter. Daryl would find his brother, then he would leave this place and all the doubts and uncertainties it brought him.

Lia must have dozed off at some point, because when she opened her eyes the sunlight glowing through the curtains had taken on an orange-ish hue. She got up and put on a pair of jeans, then went downstairs to the lobby. She found the place somewhat crowded with people waiting on dinner. The smell of cooking wafted from the kitchen. Lia wandered in to observe Nana organizing the youngsters whose turn it was to cook for the entire building. The Japanese woman seemed indefatigable as she flitted from place to place, keeping the kids focused on their tasks, taking a hands-on approach only when necessary, and giving them free rein otherwise. She noticed Lia hovering in the doorway and smiled.

"Well, hello. Did you and Daryl have a nice chat?"

Lia frowned. "What?"

"I saw him go upstairs not long after you went," Nana explained, "I assumed you two had some things to work out."

Heat rose to Lia's face as a distressing scenario occurred to her. "N-no I...didn't see him."

Nana took in the younger woman's discomfiture and wisely chose to keep silent.

Lia glanced over her shoulder at the crowded lobby. "Where is Daryl, anyway?"

"Since you mention it, I haven't seen him in some time." The old woman shrugged. "But then, given current circumstances, I'm sure he prefers to keep a low profile."

Lia's brow furrowed in worry.

"What's wrong?" Nana asked.

"I need to talk to you."

"Alright." Nana told one of the older kids to take over with the supervision, then followed Lia out into the lobby. Lia paused to ask Jessie to come along. Puzzled, the girl rose from her seat and followed the two women up the stairs and into Lia's room. The cramped space felt crowded with three people in it.

"What's up?" asked Jessie.

Lia replied, "I'm gonna tell you both what happened out in the woods." And she proceeded to do so, skipping over the awkward moment when she and Daryl both saw the deer. When she got to the point where they found the overturned cube van, Jessie noticeably tensed.

"Daryl, he-" Lia hesitated, "He lost it the second he saw that van. He was shouting and talking about going off into the deeper woods alone. I tried to stop him and that's when he hit me. He didn't even know what he was doing, he was so upset."

"Why was he upset?" Nana asked. Lia could see the rising suspicion in the old woman's eyes. Instead of answering her, Lia turned to Jessie. The girl looked anxious, as if she knew something devastating was about to be revealed to her.

"He was his brother."

Jessie swallowed. "Who?"

"The man who attacked you," Lia said quietly, "The man I killed. He was Daryl's brother."

The thirteen-year-old looked as if she'd been kicked in the stomach. She hugged herself and backed into a corner. Nana went to her and put her arms around her. "You don't know for certain that's true," she said while comforting the girl, "It could be a coincidence."

"It's not," Lia said, eyes downcast, "He told me his brother lost a hand."

"Oh god." Jessie dropped into a crouch, her upper body curled over. The two women knelt beside her and did their best to calm her.

After a few minutes, when the girl's breathing had slowed, Nana asked Lia, "Are you going to tell him?"

"How can I tell someone I murdered his only family?"

"It wasn't murder," the old woman said, "It was self defense."

"Either way he's dead because of me."

"Don't tell him," Jessie suddenly spoke up, fearful, "He already hit you. If he finds out, he'll kill you."

"I don't believe so," Nana gently disagreed.

Lia shook her head. "Neither do I. But I still don't think I can tell him."

"Why not?"

She looked away, throat working. "I don't want him to hate me."

Nana's features softened. She reached out and placed a hand on Lia's arm. "Whether or not you tell him, you know I'll support your choice. But I think it would be far kinder to him in the long run if he didn't have to spend the rest of his life wondering."

Jessie shook her head, silently begging the woman to keep her secret.

Lia sat in thought for several minutes. "I'll watch him at dinner to see what his frame of mind is. I'll decide then."

But she didn't see him at dinner, and she couldn't find him anywhere in or around the building. She started asking around, but most either hadn't noticed his absence or, in the case of many of the adults, didn't give a damn.

"I don't know why you're looking for him," Andrea said, "Isn't getting punched out by him a big enough warning sign?"

Lia repressed the urge to snap at the blonde. Her angry glare took in all the adults who were near her. "He's been traveling with you all for weeks. Fought alongside you when walkers attacked. I'm sure he's helped save all your lives at some point. How can you be so callous about him?"

"Daryl doesn't make it easy for anyone to feel concerned for him," Rick explained, "The only one harder to get along with was his brother Merle. It ain't like some of us haven't tried to give him the benefit of the doubt."

Lia frowned, but couldn't argue with that. Daryl could be a team player if he had to, but he didn't do much else to ingratiate himself. Even Nana found him trying at times, and she was used to handling difficult people.

"I know where he went," Carl suddenly spoke up. The adults looked at the boy in surprise.

"You do?" Lia asked.

Rick's son nodded. "I was up on the roof with Bobby," both he and Sophia had begun to participate in many of the chores along with the rest of the kids, "and I saw him headin' out to the woods with his crossbow."

"Guess he felt like goin' on another hunt," Rick speculated.

Yeah, Lia thought, a wild goose chase. She left the group and hurried up to her room, grabbed her bow and a full quiver of arrows, then went downstairs to the kitchen to fill her canteen from their supply of boiled drinking water.

Several people watched her preparations in dismay, but few chose to confront her about it. The kids and Nana Shino trusted Lia's judgment enough not to question what she was about to do, as did the majority of Rick's group at this point.

"Where are you goin'?" Dale asked, falling in step beside her, his tone more curious than worried.

"I'm going after Daryl," she answered.

"You sure that's wise? It'll be nightfall soon." Nighttime was when many of the walkers were at their most active. Few people stayed out after dark if they could help it.

"You don't seem concerned about Daryl being out there."

"He's spent nights out on his own before," Dale explained, "I think he may even prefer it out there."

"He doesn't," Lia stated flatly. She paused and turned to the older man, her expression stony. "He may not make it easy to be around, but you and the others haven't exactly been the most welcoming towards him, either. Nobody likes being the outsider, no matter what they say." As she knew all too well from her own childhood experiences, the weird little brown kid who always wound up alone on the swings while the rest of her schoolmates played kickball and tag.

Dale sighed and took off his hat, wiped the sweat from his brow on his forearm, then plopped the hat back on. "Maybe you're right. Maybe we could've done more to include him. But Lia, as sorry as you feel for him, are you really willing to risk your safety to go after him when he might not even need your help?"

Lia pursed her lips. "I owe him an explanation."

"For what?"

"It's...complicated," she sighed, "Well, not so much complicated as very personal."

"Unpleasantly so, is my guess," Dale cocked a bushy eyebrow.

Lia nodded. "I'll try to come back as soon as I can, hopefully with Daryl. Nana already knows, but I'd appreciate it if you helped her spread the word. I'd hate to get lost out there and nobody notice."

Dale's white beard split into a grin. "Trust me, people would notice your absence."

Lia smiled and continued on her way. Dale watched her figure diminish into the distance, until she disappeared altogether into the shadows of the surrounding wilderness.