Hi guys! So new chapter. Pretty short but we need some aftermath after the last one. Thank you as usual to everyone who is reading, following, faving and reviewing, you know I like to hear what you think and any theories you have as to where it's all going. Cheers! D.S x

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or The Walking Dead. Any OC's are mine though.

Crossroads

Part Twelve

Dean kept to himself in the caravan, not speaking, even when Aaron had tried to draw him into a conversation. His mind was too full, he didn't think he could process it all. Putting aside his breakdown, he had now found the group of demons, or at least he was pretty sure that this was the group the demons in Bobby's house were speaking of. The Saviours, Dean couldn't believe that that they were connected, he should have thought of about it, it should have been obvious, but he just couldn't believe that the demons were part of such a big group. Then there was their boss that they spoke of. Negan, that was who Rick had supposedly killed, the leader of the Saviours. Dean assumed that the leader of the group was also the boss of the demons, but with Negan dead, that just didn't add up. Hanging his head, Dean resisted the urge to cradle it in his hands in despair. He just didn't know what to do.

"Dean?" the soft voice of Aaron made it's way through his thoughts. A hand came down on his shoulder, shaking him, trying to gain his attention. "Dean, come on, talk to me. Are you ok?" the hunter took in a shuddering breath, lifting his head and fixing Aaron with a blank stare.

"Fine."

"Bullshit," Aaron said, worry written all over his face, at least from what Dean could see in the darkness. "You're not speaking, you practically freaked out when you came out of the compound." Aaron leaned forward, so that he was whispering in Dean's ear, making sure no one else could hear. "What happened?" Dean sucked in a breath. What could he tell Aaron? That he killed a demon when he had left, that he had broke down, unable to move, overcome by the horror of what he had done, wishing that maybe he had gone to Hell instead of being picked up by the Gatekeeper. Because Hell had to be better than this place.

"Nothing," Dean denied, pushing himself away, leaning back so that he was staring up at the ceiling.

"Dean ..."

"I said nothing happened, Aaron," Dean snapped. It was enough to get the man off his back, leaving him alone to his thoughts. When the caravan arrived in Alexandria, Dean had got off as soon as it had stopped, pushing passed others so that he could rush down the street and back to his house. He didn't care how odd it looked, he just wanted to get away, to close himself off. He ran up his porch, yanking open his door and shutting it with a harsh slam. As his weight went against the door Dean's legs went out underneath him, whatever adrenaline that had kept him up since he had come round in the compound finally leaving him. He slumped to the ground, back sliding down the wood until he was sat on the floor, his knees drawn up to his chest. Choking sobs welled up in his chest, erupting from his mouth completely unbidden by his conscious mind. Dean couldn't stop them, nor the tears that followed. They flowed down his cheeks, mixing with the dirt and blood that he had yet to wipe off. A vivid flash of the fight in the compound came to mind. Him holding the door shut as Aaron killed the Saviour in the bed. The bullets through the door. Aaron shoving him aside, him killing the Saviours with one simple pull of the trigger. "I'm a murderer," Dean muttered, though his voice sounded strained, almost child like. He then shook his head, trying to deny the words. No, that wasn't right, the people were going to kill them, kill him, he was defending himself. But they wouldn't have had to if you hadn't have gone there, a voice whispered inside his head. "No," Dean said, but it wasn't enough to silence the thoughts that were now running rampart around his mind. He knew why they had gone to the compound, he'd spoke out against it, but he had still gone. They were going to kill them, murder them, just like he had done countless times on a hunt. Dean stilled as that thought came to mind. Hunting wasn't murder, he was defending people. Rick thinks he's defending people, the voice chimed in. Dean shook his head. "No, no, that's different. They're evil, monsters are evil." He thinks they're evil, the voice persisted, he thinks they'll hurt his people, kill them, murder them. How can you deny that he did just what you would do if it was Sammy or Kid? Dean wanted to protest, to say that it wasn't the same, that he was a hunter, that he fought things that came out of the dark, that were a threat to humanity. But his logical mind was working against him, drawing up similarities, of hunts, decisions he had made over the course of his life. Dear good, he was a hypocrite, no wonder he was breaking down. It was too much, Alexandria was too much, he needed to get out of here.

"Dean?" a small voice said. The hunter flinched, jerking upright, back slamming into the wood of the door as he looked up the stairs in front of him to where Kid was standing. The boy was in his sleep clothes, having come down a few steps to better see what was happening in the hallway. A hand came up to rub at his eyes as he came a bit closer. "Dean, is that you?" the hunter swallowed, his mind recognising Kid finally. Jumping up, Dean dashed to the boy, ignoring how his body ached. Kid recoiled slightly as the hunter came up in front of him, hands snapping out to grab him by the shoulders, eyes wide as he checked the boy's face. "W...what's wrong?" Dean didn't answer, instead he yanked the boy to him, wrapping his arms around the small frame and hugging the life out of him. "Dean?" the nervousness in Kid's voice was clear to hear, but he didn't try to leave Dean's hold, instead he reached up to touch the hunter's back, returning the embrace tentatively. "A...are you ok?"

"Fine, fine," Dean repeated what he had said to everyone who had asked that question, though his body was now actively rebelling against the wishes of his mind. The ache in his limbs got worse, his legs cramped and he started to sway, his body weight leaning more on Kid.

"Dean? Dean!" Kid gasped, as the hunter's body finally gave out, collapsing on the stairs, barely held up by the boy as he finally went down. "You're not fine, you idiot. What happened?"

"It's ok," Dean managed to get out, but Kid was having no more of his bullshit.

"Idiot, no you're not," the boy shifted in Dean's arms. Somehow able to twist himself so that he could wrap his arm around the bigger hunter's waist. With strength that Dean never thought a boy his size could possess, Kid started to pull Dean up the stairs, shoving him up and using his weight to get him to move. Somehow they made it to the top, where Kid started to drag the hunter, who was barely keeping his feet into the bedroom, where he dumped him on the bed. Dean let him, collapsing into a heap on the mattress, while Kid caught his breath. "Damn, you're heavy."

"Kid ..."

"No, shut up," Kid cut him off. Dean couldn't see the boy, as he was too busy staring at the ceiling. He felt a bit fuzzy, everything was going in and out of focus. Noises filtered in from around him, then his boots were removed.

"What ...?"

"I said shut up, I'm getting you in bed," Kid said. Dean wanted to argue, wanted to say that he didn't need Kid to do this for him, that he could take care of himself, he wasn't a child. But he didn't, couldn't. Everything was just catching up to him, he couldn't deal with it all at once and it was killing him from the inside out. Kid worked quickly, divesting Dean of his boots, then his trousers. It was a bit difficult as Kid had to roll the hunter from side to side to get to the belt then pull them down. Dean panicked a little when the demon knife was taken from him, reaching out wildly as his best form of protection was removed from his person. "Hey, it's ok Dean. I'm just putting it on the side," Kid tried to sooth the hunter, placing himself in his line of sight. Gaining his attention as he placed the demon killing knife on the side dresser. That relaxed Dean a little, and Kid moved on to taking off his jacket and shirt. Finally all Dean had left on was his boxers, he shivered a little, but Kid grabbed the covers, pulling them up until they were under the hunter's chin. "That ok?" Kid asked and Dean nodded vaguely.

"Fine."

"Wish you'd stop saying that," Kid muttered, moving to the over side of the bed and crawling on top of the covers, so that he was leaned up against the head board next to Dean. They were quiet a moment before Kid shifted. "You hurt?"

"No," Dean answered.

"Anyone else?" Dean shrugged.

"You kill anyone?" the question was said quietly, almost a whisper, in a tone that was frightened about what the answer would be. Dean stiffened, the images came back, flashing across his vision and making him wince. Taking a shaky breath, Dean found himself nodding, shutting his eyes hoping that maybe that would get rid of the images. It was silent a moment, Dean wondered what Kid was doing. Would he leave? He wouldn't blame him if he did, Dean was a mess right now and he didn't know if he would be able to pull himself together. Everything seemed pointless, his mission was impossible. When he thought he had the world figure out it threw something else at him. He wanted answers in Atlanta, the CDC was destroyed. He went to find Bobby, he gets a run in with demons hunting hunters. He finally decides to stay in a place and finds that doing that might just turn him into something that he can't stand. Movement came from beside him, Dean tensed, waiting for Kid to get up and leave the room. But instead the boy shuffled further down the bed so that he was laid up against him. He didn't reach out to hug him, or hold him, he just laid there, his small warm weight anchoring Dean to the present instead of his own thoughts.

"I'm glad you're back," Kid whispered. Dean wanted to choke on his tongue, not believing what Kid had just said.

"Why?" Dean mumbled.

"Because I would miss you."

"You shouldn't," Dean said and he really did believe that. Why would Kid miss him? He had no reason to. Dean wasn't anything special, Sammy had said it often enough when they hunted. He was solider, like their Dad had trained him to be. He wasn't smart like Sam, he didn't have any further ambitions than being a hunter because he couldn't see himself doing anything else. It was kind of sad when he thought about it, that all he aspired to in life was to hunt down monsters and try not to get caught by the cops or die. It was a sad, lonely life. "I'm no one."

"You're someone to me," Kid protested quietly, but that just got Dean angry.

"Kid, I killed people," he said it bluntly, laying it out there for Kid to hear. "I killed them and I knew it was wrong. Didn't stop me though, didn't make me think twice about pulling the trigger when they weren't even looking for a fight. Shit, they were sleeping when we stormed them." The sob came again, but Dean managed to keep it back, he didn't want to cry in front of the boy. "I'm not supposed to do that, Kid. I'm a hunter, we're supposed to protect people, that's their job, my job. I crossed the line." Dean fell quiet, too focused on trying not to let his tears flow. He had admitted what was eating at him to Kid, he hadn't meant to, it had just spilled out of him unbidden. God, he was pathetic, he wondered if this is what happened to those hunters that went too far. They just broke down from the inside out that all they could do was end it themselves, or go so mad they forced others to do it for them.

"I don't care," the boy's voice was quiet, muffled, but Dean could still hear the conviction. "I don't care that you killed people."

"Kid, you shouldn't say that."

"It's what I think," Kid snapped. "I don't care that you killed them. I don't care if you think you crossed a line, that it went against what you think as a hunter, because I know it's not true."

"How?" Dean asked. "How can you know?"

"Because you're crying," Kid stated. The words made something in Dean jerk, shocked. He opened his eyes and turned, even though his body protested, to stare at the boy. He was snuggled in close to Dean's side, head pillowed by his hands as he tried to curl his small frame around the man beside him.

"What do you mean?" Dean said, voice horse.

"If you had crossed the line you wouldn't be crying. It wouldn't haunt you, you'd have liked it. It was wrong," Kid clarified, eyes finally flicking to catch the hunters. "You shouldn't kill people, only when you have to, only when they try to hurt you. But you've not crossed the line because you still feel bad about it. It makes you cry." Dean could only stare at the boy, shocked beyond measure at the words that were coming out of his mouth. He's naïve, the voice inside his head hissed, but Dean was easily able to ignore it. A small hand reached up, surprising the hunter when it smacked him lightly across the face. "You save people, Dean," Kid said, a serious look on his face. Dean drew in a sharp breath, images came across his mind, for once not the scenes of blood and death, but the people he had saved. How they went back to their families, safe and sound because of the choice Dean had made to be a hunter. Damn brats got smart, he thought, a pained smile making its way on to his face. Reaching out himself, Dean swatted Kid's hand away and ruffled the boy's hair, who for once didn't pout.

"I save people, do I?" Kid nodded sternly and Dean couldn't help but laugh. "Well, glad I'm good at something."

"You'd be good at pancakes if you made me some," Kid said, a smirk on his face.

"Would I? What if I brunt them?"

"I'd still eat them."

"You wouldn't throw them in the garbage?"

"I'd eat a bit," Kid rectified and Dean chuckled. His arm came down, wrapping around Kid, pulling then both down the bed.

"You need sleep, little boy's shouldn't stay up late."

"Not little," Kid argued, but his voice was soft, almost half gone.

"Sure," Dean said, laying in silence, until he felt Kid's breathing even out. Once he was sure Kid was sleeping, Dean lifted the covers that the boy had pulled up around him, tucking Kid inside so that he could be warm. Once done, Dean laid back down himself, and for a reason he didn't want to admit to himself just then, bent and placed a light kiss on the boy's forehead, just like his old man used to do when he was young, before the hunting, before they lost Mom. "Thank you."

The rest of the night passed in Alexandria, bringing with it a new day when the sun rose. Dean stayed in bed for most of the morning. The hunter too tired, from the fight with the Saviours and his minor break down to care. Kid had gotten up, to restless to stay in bed, he'd brought up a tray for Dean, though it had only consisted of a cold can of sausage and beans, a spoon and some water. Dean had laughed though, taking the tray with a beaming smile, joking that it was one of the best breakfasts he had ever had. But Dean could only ignore the outside world for so long. It came crashing back to him after noon when a knock came from the door. Dean was in bed, having slipped on some night clothes, while Kid was telling him some fabricated story for his entertainment. Kid snapped his jaw shut at the knock, head twisting to the bedroom door, a frown on his face.

"I'll get it," he said.

"Kid ..."

"You stay there," the boy shot at Dean, getting up from his place on the bed and rushing out of the room. Dean sighed, he knew he couldn't leave this to Kid, he'd have to face the rest of the Alexandrian's soon, it was better he get it over with. Shakily he got to his feet, his muscles ached, but it wasn't so bad that he couldn't walk. Luckily he had sustained no serious injuries apart from the graze on his side, which had closed up pretty well on it's own. Dean padded out of the room, not caring about putting on anything, his t shirt and soft trouser would be enough to see someone at the door, he didn't plan on going out. "He's in bed, come back later." Dean heard Kid's voice at the bottom of the stairs, as he reached the landing so he could look down, he saw the door was barely open, Kid using his body to block the small gap he had made to talk to whoever was on the other side.

"Kid, we just want to see if he's alright," Dean recognised Eric's voice, soft and coxing. Kid's back stiffened all the more and looked as though he was about to slam the door just for the hell of it. Dean sighed, starting down the stairs.

"That's enough brat," Dean said. Kid jumped, not expecting the hunter, as he stepped back he let go of the door so it swung open. Dean saw Eric, Aaron and surprisingly Carl, stood on the porch.

"Dean, you should be in bed," Kid said, stalking from the door to meet Dean at the bottom of the stairs. Dean waved away the hands that reached to turn him around, catching the boy around the back of the head in a light smack.

"I'm well enough."

"But ..."

"I'm fine, Kid," Dean said sternly, finally shutting Kid up before he could say anything more. "Now, what's going on here?" he directed the question at the three guest on the porch. Eric smiled, waving a greeting cheerily.

"We hadn't seen you this morning, so we thought we'd come for a check in." Dean nodded, though his gaze strayed to Aaron. His face was pinched and pale, a worried look as he eyed the hunter carefully.

"You didn't get your rations from the pantry either," Carl said, jerking a thumb at a box on the floor at the side of the door. "Olivier wanted me to bring it over."

"Well, that's mighty nice of you," Dean said, his grin plastered on his face, as he swaggered forward. It was a little awkward to keep the act up, he could feel Kid watching with eagle eyes, even Aaron's eyebrow twitched in disbelief. Carl bent to pick up the box, handing it to Dean once he was close enough. The hunter wasn't able to stop the wince as he took the weight, the scrap on his side searing with hot pain, just reminding him that it was there.

"Are you alright?" Aaron instantly asked.

"I'm fine," Dean said, smile firmly in place. "Just a little strain is all." As Dean turned though, his side twinge again, he closed his eyes to take a breath, hoping that his hesitation wouldn't be noticed.

"Give it here," Kid's voice brought Dean round, just in time as the boy snatched the box, teetering with it's weight as he took it. "I'll put it in the kitchen." Sending Dean a fierce glare, Kid disappeared in to the kitchen, leaving the man with the three still out on his porch.

"Damn little shit," he mumbled.

"He's worried about you," Eric said.

"Yeah, was everything alright when you got back last night?" Dean turned to face Aaron, that watchful look not shifting. "Perhaps you should go to the infirmary."

"I told you, I'm great, hardly a scratch on me," Dean said.

"You sure?" it was Carl that asked this time. "Dad seemed a bit worried when he came back, said you got left in the compound, that they thought you'd died." Dean barely managed to hold onto his smile, desperately wanting to shut the door and block out having to deal with all this.

"Well, I wasn't, was I?" the words came out more harsh than he had intended, as Carl narrowed his eyes a little.

"A good thing too," Eric cut in, trying his best to dispel the tension. "I would have been most upset if my saviour from pasta maker hell had been killed." Dean forced out a laugh, though he was grateful for Eric's attempt to change the subject.

"Ah, so you do love me," Dean smirked and Eric chuckled.

"You're just to useful. How about I come in and show you my appreciation. You got pasta?" Dean froze, his heart rate picked up and the panic and paranoia, rushed through his system.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Dean said, exaggerating a yawn. "Still a little tired, you know? And Kid's on a bit of a war path," that earned him a laugh from Eric and an eye roll from Carl. "Perhaps another time?"

"Sure," Eric agreed readily, smiling gently. "You get some rest, we'll not bother you."

"I'll tell Dad," Carl nodded, not wasting time with turning and walking away. Eric started down the porch, but Aaron had not moved. Dean grinned at him, directing all his charm on the guy, but it didn't seem to work, because Aaron leaned forward and said quietly.

"What's going on?"

"What do you mean?" Dean said, Aaron scoffed.

"You've been off. Ever since you came out of the compound, you've been acting strange. Did something happen with that Saviour that attacked you?" Dean wanted to scream, to push Aaron away, he felt like he was too close to him. He didn't like it, it made the panic that seemed to rest just beneath the surface lately, start to bubble. That only added to his constant paranoia, it was not a good combination. Dean stepped back, his smile vanishing.

"I killed him, but he got me good so I was knocked out. Luckily none of them turned, or I would have been Walker chow You know, seen as no one came back to look for me." Dean didn't feel good at the guilt that crossed Aaron's face, but he refused to let it bother him too much as it got the guy to back up.

"I'm sorry."

"It's ok," Aaron just gave him an unreadable look, then shook his head.

"Call if you need anything. Eric will probably want to bring you dinner."

"Kid will like that," Aaron nodded, and finally walked away. Dean didn't bother to watch him retreat, simply closing the door which made his panic subside quiet a lot. He took a deep breath, resting his head against the wood as he breathed. "What the hell is wrong with me?"

"A lot, but mostly, you're tired. I thought I told you to stay in bed?" Dean huffed, turning to Kid whose pout brought a smile to the hunter's face.

"I'm sorry, Dr Kid, I won't do it ever again," Dean said with a teasing smile, but that only got him a glare.

"I bet you won't. Now get back upstairs, I'll make lunch."

"Cold beans?"

"You'll have to find out," Kid said, stomping up to the hunter and giving him a push up the stairs. Dean laughed, doing as the boy demanded, so Kid could head for the kitchen. As he stepped into his bedroom, Dean's eyes caught the window. The curtains were open, revealing Alexandria in all it's glory. People were milling about, some carrying guns as they walked around the community. Dean caught the sound of laughter, it made his breath catch in his throat. Irrationally, Dean rushed to the window, almost ripping the curtains from the pole as he pulled them. He didn't want to see out side, not yet, he couldn't handle that yet. Maybe he never would be able to again.

They didn't leave the house for the rest of the day, true to Aaron's word Eric came over with a pasta dish for dinner. Kid went to the door, once again not letting the man in, just taking the large dish and thanking the man, before shutting it. Dean was thankful to have Kid as an attack dog, he really didn't want to face the outside world, just the thought of it got his panic raising. The hunter knew that he couldn't avoid the world forever, that he had to pull himself together, but it just seemed so much easier to simply hide. He didn't sleep well again, even when Kid joined him, he was fitfully turning, unable to completely drop off. Dean was sure he only got three hours sleep, and as the next day dawned, he stayed laid in bed until well passed noon. Kid took it all in stride, not questioning when Dean insisted that the curtains be closed at certain times as he moved around the house, and refusing to even go out onto the porch. He just smiled, nodded and asked if Dean wanted something to drink. Dean knew that this attitude wouldn't last, no child wanted to be cooped up inside the house forever. Plus Kid would start asking questions, questions that Dean didn't want to answer. As Dean was stood in the kitchen, picking through the cans to decided if he wanted beans or beans and sausages, shouting came from the street.

"What the ...?" Dean furrowed his brow, eyes shooting to the window that was covered by the blind.

"Dean, I think somethings up," Kid's voice came from the living room. Dean dropped what he was doing, heading straight over to find the boy, pulling part of the curtain's back to look outside. Dean's panic rose, but the hunter quickly squashed it down, swallowing he stepped closer.

"What can you see?"

"People heading for the gate," Kid reported. "I can't tell why though." Dean frowned, what could have happened in such sort a time? Was it the Saviours?

"Go find out," Kid jerked upright to stare at Dean.

"You sure?" the boy asked. Dean wanted to say no, to keep Kid in the house with him, away from Alexandria and everything that was wrong outside the walls of this safe place. But the hunter ignored his paranoia, forcing himself into hunter mode in order to get the job done. He nodded and Kid squared his shoulders. "I'll not be long." He dashed out before Dean could say more, unlocking the front door, shutting it with a slam before running off down the street towards the gate. You shouldn't have let him go, a voice said in the back of his head.

"Don't be stupid," Dean muttered.

What if something happens? What if they want to take him out and kill some people, if it's the Saviours they might ...?

"Shut up!" Dean snapped, reaching up to grip his hair. He shook his head, dispelling the thoughts that kept haunting him since the compound. But he couldn't completely shake them off. They did have a point, Rick and the group went and killed the Saviours, he went and killed the Saviours, it would be his fault if they retaliated. Humans were after all vengeful beings, more so than any monster or creature Dean had come across in all his time hunting. Dean's gaze flicked to the window, his worry for Kid escalating with every moment that the boy was gone. The hunter tried to sit on the sofa, but it didn't do much to calm him down. He just couldn't get the images that were coming thick and fast to stop, blood, bodies, Kid dead thanks to Rick and the Alexandrian's dragging him into a fight that they didn't have to engage in. It'll be your fault if he dies, the voice hissed and Dean couldn't find it in him to disagree with the statement. You brought him here, you trusted these people. He did and maybe that was a mistake. The hunter's hand moved to his belt, the demon killing knife rested there, within easy grabbing range in case he needed it for protection. Yes, you need it for them, to get rid of them to keep you both safe.

"Dean?"

"Kid," Dean jumped to his feet, turning to the boy, who was breathing heavily, that did nothing for Dean's constant panic. "Are you ok? What happened?"

"Denise is dead." Dean stilled, his brow furrowing.

"What?"

"Denise, the infirmary lady," Dean frowned. It would be wrong to say that he knew who she was. Dean and Kid hadn't really been in the infirmary, not really having any wounds to be dealt with. But he was pretty sure he had seen her around Alexandria. A plump women, with long blonde hair and glasses, plus he was pretty sure she and Tara were seeing each other, the two stared at each other too much and brushed hands to not be in some form of relationship.

"What happened?" Kid bit his lip, Dean narrowed his eyes. "Kid?"

"It was the Saviours," the boy admitted and that just sent Dean into full on paranoia.

"Fuck!" the hunter cursed, spinning to kick at the sofa in anger.

"Dean!" Kid shouted, but quickly shrank back at the furious eyes that landed on him.

"I knew going after them would be a bad idea. That they wouldn't let it rest if we killed them, there had to more than just that compound." Dean sent the sofa another kick, so it skidded a few inches from it's position. "Son of a bitch," Dean growled, shoulders tense as his mind worked to try and think of what to do. "We need to get out of here."

"We can't," Kid said, his voice held a little tremble, but he stood before the fuming hunter even in the face of his anger. "They're locking down Alexandria because of the threat of the Saviours. Rick said they don't know where the community is yet." Dean snorted. "And we can't just go, if the Saviours are out there, they'd kill us before we could get clear." Kid stepped closer, fixing Dean with a serious look. "We've made our bed Dean." The hunter stared at the boy, his towering rage, at Rick, the Alexandrian's and himself started to wane. The young hunter was never one to hold onto his anger for long, he was the type to blow up, scream and yell, then simmer down just as quickly. Huffing out a breath, Dean flopped down onto the sofa, a tiredness coming over him. He ran a hand down his face and chuckled sardonically.

"Yeah, you got a point there," he glanced at Kid who was watching him carefully. "When'd you get so smart?"

"Since forever," Kid replied with a grin of his own, coming closer to sit down beside the pacified hunter. "The Saviours are a threat now, even if we were the ones to antagonise them, we can't just let them kill us."

"Ah," Dean agreed, though he still thought it would be some time before he would come to terms with how this started. "Did Rick say anything else?" Kid shook his head. "We'll hunker down then, see if anything changes in the morning."

"They're having a service for Denise," Kid said.

"When?" Kid shrugged. "Someone will tells us," Dean said standing to his feet, heading back to the kitchen. "Come on, I'll cook you some beans."

"Beans and sausage," Kid shouted after him, which only made the hunter laugh. But as he walked away a sombre look crossed his face. It looked like he wouldn't be able to escape the killing anytime soon.

It was dark out when a knock came from the front door. Dean stirred from his place in the living room. He and Kid had decided to camp down there for a change instead of going to their rooms. Dean had even looked out of the window to see Sasha and Rosita walking around Alexandria with a couple of shot guns over their shoulders. Dean and Kid had kept to themselves, no one visited, probably too caught up with what happened to Denise to bother with the two of them. They had talked to one another, sharing stories, well Dean usually sharing tales of him and Sam, of how they fought monsters and creatures. Kid had lapped it all up, but as the sky had darkened Kid had slowly started to loose his battle with sleep, until he was leaned up against Dean, fast asleep. Dean had just stayed there when the boy had conked out, liking the warm weight, it kept him grounded, in reality, instead of going back into his head, allowing his thoughts of blood, bodies, panic and paranoia to over take him. The knock had made Kid stir, but he didn't wake. Dean had sighed, hoping maybe whoever it was would go away, but when another louder knock came, Dean carefully extracted himself from the sofa, laying Kid down softly, before padding to the front door.

"What do you ... Daryl?" Dean's hissed scolding was cut off when he caught sight of the rugged older man. His long hair was covering his face, though piercing eyes stared at Dean through the curtains of greasy hair. Dean eyed the man, his crossbow was on his back, along with a long bladed hunting knife strapped to his thigh. Daryl glanced behind Dean, probably looking for Kid. When he didn't catch sight of the boy, he jerked his head.

"Can I talk to ya'?" Dean frowned, but nodded his head. Quietly shutting the door, so Kid wouldn't wake. Dean stepped out into the dark, cold night for the first time in days. The wind caressed his skin, cooling the heat that seemed to always be emanating from him since he got back from the compound. Dean's panic tried to come forward, but the breeze soothed it, making it easy for Dean to ignore and focus on Daryl, who had moved down the porch. Dean followed, so that they were stood by the living room window.

"What's wrong?" Dean asked, he hadn't seen the man since the compound, but even he could tell that something was bothering him. Daryl shot Dean a look, then flicked his eyes to the street, checking up and down it.

"Ya' know 'bout Denise?"

"Yeah," Dean answered after a slight pause. "Saw the commotion at the gates, Kid went to check it out."

"I was with 'er," Daryl admitted. Dean said nothing though, just letting the man talk. "She wanted to get some medicines for the infirmary. She wanted to come with."

"Well she knew where they were," Dean said but Daryl shook his head.

"I shouldn't o' let 'er come," he muttered, though his fist clenched angrily. "She didn't know what she was doing."

"You couldn't have stopped her," Dean said. "It was her choice to go."

"If I'd o' said no she wouldn't 'ave been shot in the head by the Saviours," Daryl spat at the hunter.

"If you had left her behind she would have followed you," Dean argued. "Then what kind of shit would she have ended up in?"

"Not dead."

"You can't know that," Daryl huffed.

"We'll never know, will we," he looked away and Dean sighed.

"What do you want, Daryl?"

"I'm going after 'im?"

"Who?"

"Dwight."

"Whose Dwight?" Dean asked and Daryl growled.

"The bastard who shot Denise. 'E was leading a group o' Saviours, they wanted us to bring them to Alexandria." Dean gaped.

"Are you insane," the hunter hissed, biting his lip so that he didn't shout at that man. "You can't go after them."

"I 'ave to," Daryl said. "'E has to pay for what 'e's done." Dean snorted, which earned him a glare from the older man. "What?"

"Nothing," Dean muttered, but Daryl wasn't about to let him get away with that.

"No, summats up. The same summat that's kept ya' locked in ya' 'ouse all this time," Dean scowled, but Daryl just met his angry look with one of his own.

"When does it stop Daryl?" Dean asked, finally breaking the stalemate. "We already started this by going to that compound and killing the Saviours there. So they've retaliated by killing Denise. How long are we going to go back and forth killing each other? Until everyone's dead?" Daryl stared at Dean, mouth pulled into a tight line as Dean spoke.

"Ya' don't want to kill the Saviours," it was a statement.

"I don't want to kill people that have done nothing to deserve it."

"They've killed Denise," Daryl argued. "They're forcing the Hilltop to give them they're stuff, threatening 'em. We need to get rid of 'em."

"But there could have been a better way," Dean said. "We could have talked, targeted just the leader or something, figured out how they worked. Not charged in there, guns blazing, lighting up the place. Now we have to deal with this like a war."

"This is a war," Daryl snarled.

"Because we've made it one." Dean didn't have time to react as Daryl gripped the front of his shirt, pulling him up as though he was going to hit him in the face.

"Ya' don't get it Dean, ya' don't know what people are willing to do just to survive."

"I think I've got a pretty good idea," Daryl growled, tightening his grip.

"Dean?" a sleepy voice said softly. Dean tensed, even Daryl jerked, so that Dean was shook slightly.

"Kid," Dean tried to turn his head to see the boy, but with Daryl's grip on his shirt that was impossible. A creak came from behind him, the sound of feet stepping onto the porch, coming closer.

"What are you ...? It that Daryl?"

"Brat," Daryl acknowledged through gritted teeth. Finally releasing Dean, almost throwing him away from him. Dean stumbled slightly, but quickly regained his footing, turning to Kid, who was rubbing his eyes to get rid of the sleep.

"You shouldn't be up," Dean said gently, taking the boy by the shoulders, spinning him around and back towards the now open door of the house. "Get up to bed."

"But ..."

"I just need to finish talking to Daryl," Dean spoke softly, giving the boy a push to send him on his way. The sleepy child followed the direction easy enough, moving back to the door.

"Kay. Night Dad," Dean stilled at the last word. Had Kid just said that? No, Dean had to have misheard. He quickly pushed his swirling thoughts down, focusing back on Daryl, who had watched the whole thing, his face in shadow. They stood in silence a moment, before the older man let out a sigh.

"Ya' should go with 'im," Daryl mumbled, moving to stalk passed Dean, but the hunter quickly grabbed his arm, forcing him to a stop.

"Daryl, just wait."

"No," the crossbowman said, wrenching his arm free. Dean finally caught a look at his face and was shocked to find it pained. "I wanted ya' to come with me." Dean recoiled, and Daryl's lips twisted into a painful smile. "Guess I was fooling myself that ya' thought that this place was worth fighting for."

"It is," Dean denied. "I just don't want to go out and kill someone just in the name of revenge. If we start doing that, we might as well let the Walkers get us all." Daryl said nothing, just turned and walked off the porch, away from the house and out into the night. Dean watched him go, not sure if he should feel angry or not at what Daryl had said. He didn't agree with the man, he shouldn't go out looking for this Dwight. It just invited even more trouble when they were already in up to their neck in shit. But he could see that Daryl was a man of action, a bit like himself really. When someone he cared about was in trouble, he wanted to do something to help. And if they were killed, he wanted revenge. Dean's thoughts went to Sammy, how he had sacrificed his own life for his brother, and he'd do it again in a heart beat. Did that make him any different than Daryl then? Who wanted to kill Dwight for what he had done, to get some form of peace of Denise, who didn't deserve to die. Dean shook his head, he didn't know the answer to his own questions. But what he did know was that he wasn't going on a man hunt, he wasn't going to invite more shit to Alexandria, not when he was only just regaining himself. So, banishing his doubts Dean turned and walked back into his house. Not knowing that the future was already set in motion and Dean would have no way to stop it.

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