Hope spent the next week learning as much as she could from Hershel and going to target practice with Rick and the others. She and Rick hadn't spoken much since they brought Randall back but they really didn't need to. Rick saw her now and that was good enough for Hope. Not much else had changed, which was why she was so surprised when he asked her to patrol the borders with him before he went with Shane to drop off Randall.

"You ready?!" Rick called from the truck.

"Yeah!" She called back. She made sure her gun was secure, tied up her hair and left the camper. She hopped into the front seat of the truck and they drove off.

Rick glanced at her, "Nervous?"

"A little bit but the farm is safer than in town so hopefully it won't be too bad."

"It's been pretty quiet lately, we shouldn't have much trouble." Rick looked at her once more. "You know, I never did thank you for what you did at the bar."

"You don't have to. I'm sure you would have done the same for any of us."

"All the same, thank you." Rick cleared his throat. "You wanna talk about it?"

Hope smiled. "I'm good, Dale beat you to it." Hope shifted in her seat. "Is that why you invited me, to check on my mental state?"

"I wanted to make sure you were all right and I thought you could use the practice."

"Fair enough, I suppose." Hope squinted as she spotted something in the distance. "Walker."

"Yeah, I see it." Rick sped up until they were about twenty feet away from it. He stopped the car, but kept the engine running. "You think you can handle it on your own?"

"Let's find out." Hope took a deep breath and got out of the truck. She walked a feet away from it, took out her gun and clicked the safety off. Getting into a shooting stance, she aimed her gun. She took a deep breath, let it out and squeezed the trigger. She hit the walker in the shoulder. It snarled at her and started to run. Hope aimed again and squeezed the trigger. The walker fell back onto the ground and squirmed trying feebly to get up. Cautiously, she moved towards it. Hope pointed her gun and its forehead and fired another round. Where its eye would have been was now a neat bullet hole. Hope turned around and trotted back to the truck.

Rick clapped as she got in. "Good job, I knew you could do it. Just adjust a bit more for the kickback."

Hope smiled, "Right, 's just hope we don't run into a herd."

Ultimately they didn't run into a herd and returned home safely. Hope spent the rest of the day with Hershel soaking up all she could about medicine. Some things she remembered and some things drew a complete blank. It was frustrating but rewarding as well. Healing others brought a sense of security Hope hadn't felt yet. She had a place in the group, she was needed and to Hope that made all the difference.

Rick and Shane returned late in the afternoon with Randall in tow. Judging by the cuts and bruises both of them wore, something had gone down. Hope would bet a day's rations it had something to do with Shane. Hope shook her head as she patched up Rick, why he continued to put up with Shane was beyond her.

She had learned enough from Hershel that he trusted her to tend to smaller cuts and scrapes. Hershel had been kind enough to check on Shane, knowing how uncomfortable she was around him. Hope was doubly grateful knowing Hershel's dislike for the man.

"What?" Rick winced as she dabbed some alcohol on one of his tinier cuts.

"Nothing, just thinking."

Rick looked at her for moment before chuckling lightly. "You know you would have made a good poker player…or cop."

Hope smiled. "I suppose so. Lift up your shirt; I wanna take a look at those ribs."

Rick unbuttoned his shirt and took it off with a groan. Hope winced when she saw the deep purple bruise that covered most of his right side. Gingerly she pressed on his ribs, checking how tender they were. Rick tried his best to remain as stoic as possible but failed when hope pressed on a tender spot. He squirmed away from her hands. Hope clucked her tongue at him.

"So what's the prognosis, will I live?"

Hope pursed her lips. "You've got two bruised ribs. As long as you don't try to wrestle anyone for the next week or so, you should be fine."

"Great." Rick hopped off the dining room table.

"Not so fast." Hope dug into the bag of medical supplies. She ripped off three aspirin tablets from the package. She put them in Rick's hand. "These should help you manage the pain enough so you can get some sleep. Use them sparingly because that's all I can give you."

Rick ducked his head. "Thank you."

"Your welcome and I mean it; get some rest. You look terrible."

"I will."

"So what are you gonna do?" Lori asked the next morning Rick as she poured a cup of tea. "We'd all feel better if we knew the plan." The group had gathered to hear Rick's decision on Randall's fate.

"Is there a plan?" Andrea asked.

"Are we gonna keep him here?" Glenn shoved his hands in his pockets.

"We'll know soon enough," Rick nodded towards Daryl as he approached. His knuckles were bloody. So that's where he'd been all morning, Hope thought grimly.

"Boy there's got a gang, thirty men. They have heavy artillery and they ain't looking to make friends. They roll through here, our boys are dead. And our women, they're gonna wish they were." Daryl looked at her as he said this. Hope swallowed nervously.

"What did you do?" Carol asked Daryl.

Daryl glanced down at his bloodied knuckles, "Had a little chat."

"No one goes near this guy," Rick declared.

"Rick, what are you gonna do?" Lori asked quietly.

"We have no choice, he's a threat. We have to eliminate the threat."

"You're just gonna kill him?" Dale asked incredulously.

"It's settled," Rick went on. "I'll do it today."

Rick walked off with Dale in tow.

Hope walked over to Daryl. "You want me to take a look at that hand?"

Daryl glanced at her. "I'm fine."

Hope nodded and backed away. At least he had said something to her this time.

It took Dale about an hour to approach her. Hope saw him coming a mile away. She was sitting at the picnic table organizing the group's medical supplies. Labeling things, putting them in an old duffel bag Hershel had given her. With the threat of another group looming over their heads, Hope wanted to be prepared for the worst.

"I know what you're gonna say Dale and I'm pretty sure you already know my answer."

Dale put his hands out, "I know, I know just let me speak my piece."

"All right, knock yourself out." Hope packed the bandages in the front pocket.

"Rick doesn't want to kill this boy you know that and I know that. He saved him, twice. There's got to be another way."

"What do you suggest?"

"We could stick to the original plan, give him some supplies and send him on his way."

"That was before we found out he knew where the farm was. Besides there's no guarantee he wouldn't talk to other survivors even if he never found his way back to his camp."

Dale slumped in defeat. "We can't kill that boy, it's not right."

"No but it is necessary. I know you want to do the right thing Dale but he's a threat. You weren't there at the bar, you didn't see those men. How they looked at me." Hope shook her head. "I promised myself I would never end up at the mercy of men like that again. I wish I could say I agree with you Dale but I just don't." Hope put a hand on his arm. "How's it going with the others?"

"About as well as you'd think. I might as well be talking to a brick wall."

Hope smiled sadly. "I'm sorry, Dale. I know how much this means to you."

"Thank you, Hope." Dale stood, "I'm off to plead my case to Daryl."

Hope snorted. "Good luck with that."

"Well, I thought I'd bring a little luck with me." Dale gave her a pointed look.

Hope shook her head. "I don't know how much use I'll be, we haven't spoken in a while." Hope picked at invisible piece of lint. "He barely even looks at me now."

"Only when you're looking, his eyes are practically glued to you otherwise. Please, Hope let me try."

"All right, I'll go." Hope packed away the rest of the supplies before dropping them off in the camper. She followed to Dale to Daryl's new campsite at the edge of the farm.

Hope couldn't help but feel nervous as she approached Daryl. If it hadn't been for Dale she would have turned tail and run.

Daryl was picking up arrows for his crossbow as they approached. "The whole point of me coming up here was to get away from you people."

"It's gonna take more than that." Dale told him.

"Carol send you?"

"Carol's not the only one concerned about you, your new role in the group."

"Man, I don't need my head shrunk. This group's broken. I'm better off fending for myself."

"You act like you don't care."

"Yeah, it's cause I don't." Daryl put his long-sleeved shirt on.

Hope rolled her eyes. "You know that's not true."

"So live or die, you don't care what happens to Randall?"

"Nope," Daryl said as he put on his belt.

"Then why not stand with me, try to save the kid's life if it doesn't matter one way or the other?"

"I didn't peg you for a desperate son of a bitch."

Hope frowned.

"Your opinion makes a difference."

"Man, ain't nobody looking at me for nothing."

"Carol is, Hope is, and I am right now."

Daryl glanced back at Hope. He couldn't quite meet her eyes.

"You obviously have Rick's ear," Dale continued.

"Rick just looks to Shane. Let him." Daryl began to walk away.

"You cared about what happened to Sophia. Cared what it meant to the group. Torturing people? That isn't you. You're a decent man. So is Rick. Shane—he's different."

"Why's that, cause he killed Otis?"

Hope looked at Daryl surprised.

Dale walked towards him. "He tell you that?"

"He told some story—how Otis saved his ass, covered for him. He showed up with a dead guy's gun." Daryl licked his lips. "Rick ain't stupid. If he didn't figure that out, it's cause he didn't wanna. Like I said, this group's broken." Daryl stomped off.

Dale looked down; all the wind taken out of his sails. Hope felt a burst of anger on his behalf. For the past few weeks Daryl had been a raging asshole and she'd had enough. "I'll be back, Dale."

"Where are you going?" He called after her.

"Daryl and I need to have a chat!" She called back. Hope jogged after Daryl calling his name.

After the fifth time she called for him he stopped and turned around, glaring at her. "What? I already told you no."

"You're an asshole, you know that?"

Daryl faltered for a moment before glaring at her again. "Your point?"

Hope shook her head. "What is your problem?!" Hope grit her teeth, "You know, at first I was wondering what I did to make you so angry you'd start pretending I didn't exist. Then I realized that I didn't do anything at all and you weren't angry, you were scared."

"Oh yeah, of what?"

"Feeling, you're so afraid letting people know you care. That's why you push everyone away. That's why you walk around acting like you couldn't care less. But you know what? I call bullshit, because I know you care. You could have left me that day in the forest, you could have walked away and forgotten about me the moment you turned your back. But you didn't, you risked your life to save mine and you did the same for Sophia. That doesn't seem like the behavior of someone who doesn't care."

"Screw you! You don't know me! Yeah, I saved your life, so what? Hell, I don't even know why I did it. You weren't my problem then and you're not my problem now! I don't need your baggage! I'm not your husband! So stop pretending like I am!"

Hope stepped back, his words cutting deep. After a beat of silence, "You're right," she said her voice breaking. "I'm not your problem. So stop treating me like one." Hope walked away quickly not wanting him to see her cry.

Daryl punched a tree. He cursed and rubbed his hand. He should have punched himself. He shook his head and stomped off into the forest.

Hope lay in the RV staring at the ceiling. A few hours ago she'd feigned a headache and went to lie down. She'd tried sleeping but couldn't. Not with Daryl's voice echoing in her head. She ran a hand over her eyes wiping away the wetness that had formed there. She sat up with a frustrated sigh.

Through the window she could the sun slowly sinking below the horizon, streaking the sky with a trail of orange. Unbidden, a memory rose to the surface. Sitting on her back porch watching the sunset; her husband kneeling before her staring in wonder at her flat tummy. Her breath caught, overcome with emotion. She had loved him. Though those feelings were only an echo of what she had once felt, she still mourned. She mourned what could have been and what would never be. As the night sky swallowed the last of the sun's rays she bid her goodbyes to Tucker Lawson and the tiny life she would never know. Wiping a final tear from her eye she breathed deeply taking in the night air.

Someone cleared their throat behind her. "I brought you some dinner."

Hope closed her eyes at the sound of his voice. She turned around. He was standing with a plate in one hand his crossbow in the other. He was sweaty and had patches of dirt on his face, he must've just returned from hunting. She swallowed, "Thank you." She took the plate from him and laid it on her lap. Quietly she began to nibble on her food.

Daryl shifted restlessly from foot to foot.

Hope peaked up at him through her hair, "Would you like to sit?"

Daryl hesitated a moment before sitting on the cot across from hers.

They sat awkwardly for a few moments, neither entirely sure of what to say. Daryl frowned. "I-I'm sorry for what I said earlier."

Hope blinked. She'd never heard him apologize to anyone. "It's okay; I'm not exactly innocent either. I'm sorry too."

Daryl gave a sharp nod. Now that he had said what he wanted to say he wasn't quite sure what to do with himself.

"In a way, you were right." Hope continued.

Daryl furrowed his brow.

"I depend too much on you but I'm working on fixing that. I'm no one's responsibility. I didn't mean to be a burden."

"No." Daryl shook his head. "No, that's not right. I promised I'd take care of you and I will. You are my responsibility. I know I've done a piss poor job of it lately but I'll do better from now on."

"You don't hav-"

"Yes I do. I found you; it's my job to look after you, make sure you're safe."

"I can't depend on you forever."

"Why the hell not? Besides, I'm not asking you to. If you need to learn how to do something then I'll teach you how to do it. End of story. I ain't gonna leave you defenseless. Jeez."

Hope nodded silently, touched. She glanced at his hand and saw that his knuckles were an awful purple shade. She moved her plate to the side and wiped her hands on her jeans. "Let me take a look at that hand. I want to make sure it's not broken."

Daryl began to protest but thought better of it. He scooted closer to her and held out his hand so she could see. Her hands were warm and gentle but firm as they felt around his knuckles. Her brow furrowed in concentration. Daryl tried not to wince when she pressed on a particular tender spot.

Hope sat back with a sigh, "Nothing's broken. What I don't understand is how you managed to bruise your hand this badly. It didn't look like this earlier."

If Daryl could look sheepish that's how Hope would've described the look on his face now. He rubbed the back of his neck, "I hit a tree."

Hope quirked a brow, "You hit a tree?"

"That's what I said," Daryl snapped.

"Well, I hoped the tree learned its lesson." Hope smirked.

Daryl rolled his eyes. "Shut up."

Hope giggled quietly, "I'll get you a cold towel to bring down the swelling." She came back a few minutes later with damp cloth. Carefully she wrapped the cloth around his hand. The coolness soothed the throbbing to a dull ache.

Daryl watched her work. He'd never had the chance to look at her this close. He could even see the light dusting of freckles over her nose. She was beautiful, Daryl had the sudden urge to kiss her. Hope looked up at him and for a split second they both held their breath. The moment ended as quickly as it had come when a gunshot rang through the air.