A/N: Chapter 4! Thank you to anyone following and/or favoriting this story. (:

Chapter 4

Daryl

It was a disaster.

A hunting trip seriously gone wrong.

He had just aimed his bow at a tiny, and very much lonely, bambi licking its former wounds when a distant screech pierced the air and the little creature was startled into a run deeper into the woods. There went yet another wounded meal, struggling to escape whatever was chasing it. Would definitely end up breaking a leg or two, suffering through a slow death when Daryl's bow could've made a clean kill.

The screeching didn't stop, though. Daryl turned his head towards the sound and wondered if people would ever stop getting themselves into trouble. He broke into a run, calculating his chances of getting to the girl before it was too late. The female screams came from pretty far away, and Daryl could tell by them that the Damsel in Distress wasn't running from humans – or tortured. Just pretty shaken. Chances of surviving increased by many because of that point.

Daryl panted hard. If there were only a couple of biters, he could easily save the day. If there was a shitload of them, maybe. But if a shitload of them was closing in on and surrounding the girl, no. He was no Good Samaritan – Daryl drew a fine line in between bravery and self destruction.

He came to a quick stop when he saw her. And one. goddamn. walker. Which was like ten meters away from her and she was still on her fucking feet. Running.

"Shut up, lady! 'less yer plannin' on attractin' the whole population after ya," he hollered throwing his crossbow back so that it hung from his shoulder and switching to the knife. Miraculously, the girl did shut that pretty mouth of hers and stared, tears in her eyes, as Daryl stormed past her and easily got rid of that annoying bastard at her heels. He made an effortless strike through the male geek's rotten eye socket, twisted the knife and the body fell limp to the ground. "That's better."

Daryl breathed and looked at the lifeless thing lying on the ground. He then lifted his gaze to the girl, noting that she was actually a grown woman. Maybe close to her thirties? What girly shrieks she possessed.

"Please," the woman pleaded. Her starved arm reached out. She was wearing a dark and too big windbreak with ripped-off sleeves (even if no sleeves, hell, it was a hundred-degree summer day, for God's sake), a pair of those girly denim shorts you saw in fashion magazines and no shoes at all. She almost looked like a zombie herself, with grey dirt plastered skin and all, if it weren't for the clothes. Daryl tilted his head, confused. "Please."

"What d'ya want?" Daryl jerked back in surprise when the woman stumbled towards him. She reached and managed to get a hold of his sweaty shirt. Her face was kind of pretty, sharp features lined by short light brown hair. Green eyes looked up at him pleadingly like an animal's that was begging to die after a bad, messy shot. And she was shivering. Afraid for her life.

"Please! I can give you anything," the woman cried. She stumbled some more as Daryl took a few horrified steps back, because she was pretty much clinging to his neck now and he was starting to feel awkward, to say the least. "You can have my body. Please, just take me somewhere safe!"

Daryl still jumped back and tried to get a hold of those thin arms. He managed to catch them in a death grip and extracted her hands from his neck – shit, there'd be bruises.

"Look, there's no need – "

"Please!"

"Just- will ya please calm-"

"What's going on here?"

"-down."

The woman's teary face turned towards the side and Daryl slowly gazed in the same direction.

There stood no other person than the chink from Rick Grimes' town. With a disgusted expression on his sweaty face.

Daryl looked back at the woman, her wet eyes, their position together, arms a clingy mess and chests pressed against each other. Then it clicked.

"This ain't what it looks like…" He gave one final shove which sent the woman stumbling back onto her butt, finally getting her off him. He looked back up at Glenn who had a serious frown settled so hard on his face that Daryl thought it would never ease. And the cap… There was no cap. The lack of it made the kid look a bit older than the first time Daryl had met him. And the suspecting eyes. Oh.

"…Right," Glenn mumbled, looking him straight in the eyes with a judging expression on his face. "Who is she?"

"Never really had the chance to ask. Had her stickin' to my torso the second I killed one fucker!" Daryl rubbed the spot on the back of his neck where the woman's bony fingers had bruised him. He looked down at the whimpering woman. "Wanna take care a' her? Take a puppy home?"

"The North Land's closer," Glenn reasoned and walked past him. Wow, the kid was smart. Tried to make Daryl the one responsible of her? That, Daryl was not going to allow.

"Savin' her ain't enough?"

"I wasn't telling you to take her," Glenn called, helping the confused lady up to her own feet with careful movements. "I'm doing it. Got things to take care of in there."

"Excuse me, China?" Daryl exclaimed loudly when Glenn and the woman started walking, headed towards the North Land if not a bit more to the east. Shit, they'd walk right past the place. "What's yer business in there?"

"That's none of your concern," Glenn said, looking back at him over his shoulder and giving a small smile. "And we're taking the road. You coming with?"

Daryl blinked and sighed in frustration. This kid was getting on his nerves. First the interruption in the woods when Daryl was about to get off, then the knife, now this. And next Glenn was going to make him listen to the friendly conversation he was about to have with the woman that included asking names and what had happened and deep apologies and assurances about how everything was going to be just fine.

Daryl followed them though, crossbow at the ready, and listened to that conversation. And the weeping. He couldn't come up with a rational explanation to actually why he did it, as he stared at Glenn's lean and sweet, sweet ass.

Those pants were a tight fit.

Glenn kept coming. Almost every time Daryl left his bunk, Glenn was there. Every time he left to do something for the Governor, Glenn was there. The chink stared at him from the other end of the Governor's hallway with slim eyes and a slightly open mouth, unsure hands in his pant pockets, and there was still no cap. What was the point of just standing there outside the Governor's office and not going in?

Daryl could swear the kid was stalking him.

Glenn only seemed to show up in daylight, though. Obeyed the "golden rules of survival in the middle of a zombie apocalypse"? But why did he come at all? Had Rick Grimes' little town gone down in an attack?

Their arrival to the town of the North Land had been… hectic? The Governor himself had basically dragged Glenn and the woman into his office, ordering for Daryl to follow them suit. The people on the main street had stared with mouths wide open and curious to the point of pissing their pants as they had walked inside.

Turned out the woman had something to do with the Runners. She had been a victim of theirs or something like that. As if Daryl cared. But Philip had wanted to know everything. The interrogation had lasted for so long it had gotten dark and only that was when the poor lady got some proper clothes, food and sleep. She did look exhausted, even to Daryl's eyes.

Glenn had showed up in the pub that night with a glass of beer in front of him. Had mumbled about stuff like how fucked up this whole system was and didn't get to leave before it was dark, and when Hershel had asked him what was wrong, the kid had mumbled some more. Daryl caught a whine about how the chink "hadn't known Daryl was like this". Like what? Fuck it.

Daryl didn't really care what other people thought. He just wanted to find the only person that gave two shits about him.

So he kept looking.

People didn't grab Daryl's forearm every day on the streets of the North Land, so when that did happen, Daryl was sincerely dumbstruck and barely made it to stop himself from stabbing the poor, clueless person to the head with his knife. He calmed his racing heart and reminded himself of the fact that there were no zombies on these streets. This was no zombie.

It was a girl. The girl was still holding onto his arm with a firm grip when Daryl looked downwards and took in the features of the Blondie that often sat in the corner of Crippling Biter. Her hair fell beautifully down her shoulders as she stared at him with her big blue eyes. She didn't look scared like many would've after someone had just almost stuck a sharp object into their brain. All emotion was gone from her face.

"What?" Daryl asked harshly, because he hadn't signed for this, to participate in a staring contest when he had stepped out of the Governor's building today.

"Help me," the girl breathed out softly, and Daryl wasn't entirely sure, but he could swear he saw a glimpse of emotion flash in those eyes…

"Help ya with what, lady?" he asked, easing his tone a bit, because hell. The girl was opening up a bit. She grabbed his shoulder tightly and leaned in, whispering her following words in a tone way too sweet.

"Help me find my sister."

Daryl felt something clench in his chest. The girl had lost her sister.

She quickly took a step backwards but the hand was still on his forearm. Her hair swayed with the movement, and this was probably the most Daryl had seen the girl move in like forever and it made hope bubble in the bottom of Daryl's stomach. Even though there was only a very little amount of it.

"Ya got a picture a' her or somethin'? Would surely make things easier."

Her eyes widened at that and after her slight state of shock, she dug into her breast pocket and pulled out a small, wallet sized, photo of her.

Daryl snatched the held out picture from her grip and stared. He couldn't believe his eyes. He looked up at the girl, then back at the piece of paper in his hand, and up again. He'd never believe it and he was sure the girl wouldn't either.

He stared into the girl's big, blue eyes and now, he could name the emotion because it burned him, glowing out of her stare so pure and full.

Desperation.

"I'll bring yer sis back."

The girl closed her eyes, long blonde lashes fluttering in the air. Daryl once more glanced at the picture of Andrea before handing it back to the wobbling girl.