It's been a while, but here it is. I delve into Paige's back story just the tiniest bit, but over all, you'll probably be making your own assumptions by the end of this chapter. Really hope you enjoy!

Chapter 5 - Safety and Comfort

Paige shot up from the snarl of blankets, heart hammering against her ribcage painfully. It took a full minute this time around, to realize the reoccurring nightmare remained just that.

A nightmare.

But the fear did not lessen, causing a great tremble to shake her down to her bones as the sunlight just barely broke through the clouds outside, illuminating their tent to an almost fiery orange.

"Just a dream," she whispered firmly to herself, recalling Andrea's exact words. "I'm not there. I'm here, in a tent, safe."

By the time she managed to reassure herself of this, the tears threatening to crawl out of the corner of her eyes, dried up.

In just one day, I've had this dream two times. I know what it means. To move on and stop hoping for permanent settlement.

A masculine, throaty groan echoed through the tent, startling Paige out of her reverie as she glanced to her left.

Daryl lay sprawled out on the blankets, resting on his stomach. His lips were half parted, and Paige wasn't able to determine wether his dream was pleasant or otherwise.

But the low noise made her smile.

Until her smile switched to a frown.

Sweet Jesus, I'm getting attached.

Disbelief followed this thought, reminding her that this was the last man on Earth who wanted someone to care for him.

And yet, the events of last night, the words transpired - hostile and epiphanic - gripped themselves in between the neurons of her brain, revealing to her one troubling fact.

She hadn't been this open with anyone since her brother was still alive.

Really, we're on this thought now? Yeah, it's time to leave.

As quietly as she could, Paige threw off the blankets from her lap and made her way into a shaky stand up position. Not as much disorientation greeted her when compared to other mornings, but the thought still rested in the back of her mind that if she didn't find food and water immediately, Daryl's rescuing would have been in vain.

Another low sound stirred through the air, but Paige ignored it, fingers already working at the zipper.

She had to blink a few times once the tent flap was open, to not only take in the ascending brightness of the morning, but the storm's effects around her.

Branches were sprawled around the camp ground, appearing like severed, bruised arms, as were nearly half of all the leaves once native to the trees, painting the ground with reds and oranges and caramel yellows.

Altogether, the view was breathtaking for the sheer destruction the storm caused and the sheer beauty.

You win once again, nature. Looking all beautiful while we attempt to survive you.

Risking a step out, her shoe immediately came down on soggy grass.

"It's going to be one of those days," she mumbled to herself.

A quick gaze to her right did manage to cheer her up, however.

Winston, still clean and still kicking, sat perched against a miniature log.

When Paige had a chance to step forward and inspect the weapon further, she noted a brown satchel tied to the butt of the sniper.

Confused, she knelt down and opened the bag.

"That son of a bitch," she murmured appreciatively, studying at least two casings of loaded ammo.

"That s'posed to be a compliment?"

Twirling around, Paige wearily eyed Daryl's form outside the tent.

God damn, he's like a ninja. Ninja Daryl they should call him.

"Considering your discomfort of being thanked, yes," she answered, finding her voice once more as a hand wrapped around the sniper. "I want to take your...generous offer, but what am I leaving you with in return?"

The tiniest bit of confusion dipped into Daryl's brow, but it quickly faded away.

"Still leavin' then?"

"It was never my plan to stay. Or your responsibility to take care of me," Paige pointed out, moving to stand.

Nodding, Daryl casted a glance around him for a moment, as if he was seeing the destruction for the first time.

"We can manage with what we got," he assured. "Don't know where you're goin' or how far away it is, but you're gonna need all the help you can get."

"I'm forcing myself to take that as a compliment," Paige smiled, hiking the satchel over one shoulder. "You might not like me for it, but I still feel obligated to say it. Thank you. For everything. Food, water, shelter, and ammo. I won't be forgetting that anytime soon."

Daryl only stared back at her, eyes squinted in that calculating way of his.

But he stayed quiet.

Throwing a final smile at him, Paige turned on her heels, beginning a march forward. She already formulated in her mind to swing through the camp where the others were hopefully still resting and sneak out where the trees were shoved further apart. Most likely, that'd be the best way back to the grasslands and ultimately, back to a probably former shelter now so she could pack up and keep heading west.

Until I'm out of this state. Hell, I'll keep on going to Mexico if that's what it takes.

Unfortunately, Paige failed to understand that Daryl wasn't the only group member who had an inkling of waking up early.

"How was your sleep?" Dale called from the fire pit, mustering up a warm smile.

Forcing against the hesitance in her steps that would cause her to stop, Paige returned the smile, replying, "Just what I needed. Thank you."

"You're leaving already?"

This time, Paige had to halt, fighting back the need to sigh.

The boy, Lori's if she recalled correctly, watched her from the front of Dale's camper.

"I'm all better," she explained, noticing the restless stir of the other group members. T-Dog and Andrea had slipped out of the camper. Carol, in the process of wringing out a damp shirt, peeked up from her position by her tent, Sophia at her side. Glenn and Rick, having a conversation amongst themselves behind the camper, suddenly appeared.

By the time she'd given her answer, everyone was wide awake and watching her intently.

"Sure you don't want something to eat before you go?" Rick offered.

"The offer is tempting, but I've got to get going."

I've been in this area for far too long.

"You can at least take some with you," Andrea pitched in. "A canteen?"

"You gave to me what you could. In a few months when you're running low on water and food, you'll be thankful I said no," Paige responded, wishing her tone didn't come off so ungrateful.

"You don't take the food now and you'll be dead in 'bout a week."

Paige carefully avoided gritting her teeth together as she turned behind her, observing Daryl, who for once in probably a long time, appeared like an actual member of the group.

"You may not know me very well, but understand this. I'm resourceful and I will adapt. Even if it means picking unripened berries or going through the winter with nothing but sunflower seeds. No one knows me better than I do," she defended, feeling insulted by the hunter's lack of faith in her survival skills. She'd made it two months, hadn't she?

Daryl's squint returned, but there actually appeared to be a retort ready to form on his lips.

Rick, however, intercepted whatever the hunter was going to say.

"Hope you make it safe out of these parts. And good luck."

Biting at her lip, Paige buried her head down, mind at work, deducing if it was even worth mentioning.

I'll be spilling things I don't want others to know, but if the dreaming is an omen, then they deserve to know at least what could possibly be coming, if at all.

"Be careful," Paige expressed soberly, meeting Rick's eyes directly. "Of who enters your camp."

"Ain't the walkers bad enough?" Shane joked.

"I'm not talking about the dead," she revealed swiftly. "I'm talking about the living. It was a gamble taking me in, but I have been out there longer and I am offering you a warning of what type of people exist out there."

Rick nodded understandingly, but Paige knew the words were futile to the others because they remained so despondently vague.

Clenching her jaw, she disconnected her gaze and instead, set her sights on Carol and Sophia. And she would have kept on standing there, staring at them, if not for an interruption.

"Have you led people to us?" Lori demanded, hand reaching for Carl.

Blinking, Paige shook her head, disgusted at how difficult it was to say the right words.

"Your camp location goes to the grave with me," she assured. "But be wary of those...newcomers who travel in a pack."

"What kind of pack?" Rick continued, taking a step forward.

The compassion in his voice nearly caused her to sprint from her very spot.

But, she had to at least allow a final warning. Just so if worst came to worst, they'd have a chance.

Could be nothing. Then I'll be scaring them without proper reason.

"If it's possible, tell them you have no women here," Paige announced, eyes back on Rick. "I realize that might be near impossible since it's not like you huddle all the females in one tent, guarding them, but in the end, if you can make them believe this, you'll have a better shot at surviving."

When no one followed up with a question, Paige finally allowed herself to begin walking again, head lowered, hand gripped tight around the satchel strap.

The group was still silent by the time she had entered the woods and with a determined march, she began forcing herself to substitute the luxury of being safe for the reality of a nomadic life.

DPDDPDDPDDPD

Daryl sat inside his tent, eyes trained on where the Grass Fox had slept.

At least three hours had passed since she'd taken off, but her departin' words still buzzed insistently around his head. And accompanin' those confusin' words were even more conflictin' feelings.

Runs off again, even though she had to have found some sorta comfort at being listened to last night. But before she does, leaves a fuckin' strange message.

He didn't know if the others had simply disregarded the warning, but Daryl had watched how difficult it was for the Grass Fox to form the words, to let out what the hell she wanted to.

And just in that way, he knew the message to be important.

A thousand scenarios ran through his head, and for once, he didn't hate himself for havin' his thoughts centered 'round her. Call him a pussy for it, but the girl...guess it'd be woman now, well...she wasn't half bad. At least won his trust. Hell she'd won it the day she'd saved his life, but he'd just been too stubborn to admit it.

The runnin' off into the woods with no food on her, made Daryl want t'a follow and try changin' her mind again. He didn't care how insistent she'd been 'bout her adaptation skills, the woman needed more food in 'er.

Yet, in this way, she was just as stubborn as he, refusin' help cause the only person who could help her survive was herself.

This realization didn't sink in for a moment, but when it did, Daryl felt just a little bit more knowledgable about the Grass Fox.

"Daryl?"

Shifting his eyes to the shadow outside his tent, Daryl grumbled, "What'd you want?"

"Just wondering if I could have a word."

"Don't care."

Rick entered a second later, throwing the hunter a neutral look.

"I came to talk about...the Grass Fox," he announced calmly.

"What 'bout her?"

"Everyone at camp is trying to figure out what she meant," Rick explained. "I guess I'd like to know your thoughts about it."

Unable to fight the instinct, Daryl tensed up.

"She ain't my responsibility no more. Don't know why the hell you askin' me."

Rick's gaze dropped to where the Grass Fox had layed. He didn't speak for a while, but by the concentration on his face, Daryl understood Rick had unresolved words to get out.

"I don't know what you're feelings are toward her. And I'm not here to question you about them. But I do know that to have someone save your life is a debt you can only hope to repay by the time you die. You were both there at the right time for each other. And like you said to me after bringin' her in, this made you even."

Daryl knew the sheriff had some sort of point to his speech and that made him uncommonly nervous 'cause Rick always had some sort of frustrain' way to make him see what he wasn't able to.

"You could've just stayed out here," Rick noted, eyes again searching the inside of the tent. "Was obviously the easiest choice. But instead, you came back to make sure she was okay and offered her a place to rest for the night. I don't know what you're calling that in your head, but I do know what I see it as. You caring for someone else. Doesn't mean I'm saying you'd risk your life for her again or that you suddenly are a changed man. But I've seen the difference her presence has made in you within just a few days. I don't need to know what they are, and I think you'd cut off a hand before telling me. But this information she just told us...you and I both know it's important."

One thumb moved to Daryl's mouth, pad pressing into the corner of his front teeth.

Rick did have a part of it right. He'd been different since comin' in contact with her.

But he also had it wrong.

Cared for her? Too strong of a word.

Wanted to make sure she didn't go get herself killed right after he saved her?

That sounded more plausible.

Still, that nagging voice at the back of his head who felt relief at momentarily being free from Merle, reminded him of last night.

He didn't exactly have college experience, hell, never made it past his freshman year of high school. But the Grass Fox, who spoke with all her grammar and had attended for four years at an expensive college, not once put him down for anythin' he'd said. And yeah, that might not be worth much to some people.

But to him, so used to keepin' his thoughts to himself, the ability to release at least some of what flew through his head, was an unknown relief.

And I still don't know why the hell she's so spooked 'bout givin' me a name.

"Daryl?"

The hunter bit down on his thumb. Hard.

"Had to have personally observed the group she was talkin' 'bout," Daryl surmised. "Don't know from how far away, though. Think it's known she don't like to stick in one place, or 'round people."

"I can only imagine what she had watched them do, or how long ago," Rick remarked. "We'll have to have two people on watch at nights and maybe travel in pairs if we leave the area. If she thinks there's a chance that they'll be headed this way, I want to be prepared for that."

Daryl nodded, but something in his gut still bothered him.

Actually, a lot did. The combined theory he and Rick produced, held a shitload of holes. Like if the Grass Fox had observed this group of people she'd warned against, would she really just stay there and watch, doin' nothin' to help whoever they'd been terrorizin'?

He'd been nothin' but a stranger to her, an obstacle to her unchanging, isolated life.

But she'd taken the shot, not knowing if he could be good or bad.

There was no way she would have watched the group without makin' some type of move.

"Shit," Daryl mumbled, squeezing his eyes shut.

"What's wrong?"

Scratching at the back of his head, Daryl's eyes searched for his crossbow.

"I'm goin' to find her. Not all of what she said, adds up."

"I don't think anyone is protesting that," Rick agreed. "Andrea even offered to go. But I don't think now's the time. The last thing I want is for her to feel like she's being harassed. This might scare her off for good. In a few hours, we'll head out together."

Reluctantly, Daryl nodded.

Question now remained, how receptive to his presence would she be?

DPDDPDDPDDPD

Morning poured into the afternoon outrageously fast, and Paige still sat at what remained of her canopy.

Well...former canopy.

A branch had fell, slicing straight through the fabric.

All that lay underneath was an incredibly damp sleeping bag, five inch hunting knife she'd grabbed out of a thrift store, three empty bottles of water, a book bag able to hold all of this plus the extra two pairs of pants inside, and a half full bottle of Smirnoff.

Paige observed her destroyed space a bit dismally. Prior to the apocalypse, it'd been her longest place of residency. A full week, nearly.

But seeing it in its demolished state made her wonder if she'd ever find that place of true belonging. If anyone in this world ever would.

So, rather than booking it as she originally planned, Paige ended up relocating herself about a mile north.

She understood with a clarity that she needed to find food.

Badly.

This could no longer be pushed back as a second priority, and if searching for a sustainable amount meant spending one more night, then she'd just have to deal. The worst thing would be moving out with nothing to sate her, and then eventually prove Daryl right.

How embarrassing it'd be if he found me again. I don't think he'd ever let me out of his sights again, much less let me live it down.

So, once her new area had been set up, far more vulnerable since nothing could block her from outside eyes, she took to memorizing her area before branching off to search for food.

Had she Daryl's stealth, a squirrel she'd seen could have been her supper for the night.

But when it came to stalking animals, she was like the buzzing cell phone at a somber funeral. Everybody picked up on her.

Forgetting the idea of having something as delicious as animal again, her eyes went back to scanning bushes and creepers.

She guessed mid-August had passed already since when she finally did stumble upon some berries, they held little of their green color. Instead, the dewberries retained their succulent violet and Paige once again had to restrain herself from gulping down the entire bush.

She uncapped a water bottle she'd brought along and worked on sliding the berries through the hole. The outside of the water bottle remained scuffed with dirt, but the inside was free of all harmful toxins and as Paige learned earlier, helped keep the berries better preserved.

A few did manage to find themselves in her tummy, but she figured she could risk it considering she'd high tailed it before eating breakfast.

Once the bush was cleared off, successfully filling up to a little over halfway of her bottle, Paige wiped the reddish stains from her fingers before continuing on.

Weeks ago, before starvation had eaten at her insides, Paige had been lucky enough to find prickly pears growing on some low lying plants near the forest floor. After cleaning off the spines and glochids with her knife, she'd indulged in her first pig out since the apocalypse began.

This edible plant was a rarity because it retained enough in just two leaves to make one feel like they've eaten a whole meal.

Her biggest regret now remained not having picked them all off as soon as finding them. She'd gone to rest for the night, south of where she'd found the plant, and upon awaking, realized a walker had trampled all over the area, bloodying up the source of food.

She tried maintaining that she didn't hunt down that walker solely because he'd stolen her only source of food. And eventually, she found him.-

He'd gotten tripped up in a thorn bush a mile west and rather than panic about how close to her sleeping place he'd been, Paige raised Winston up and ridded the world of one more undead bastard.

While trying not to take it personally.

Right now, just the thought of the citrus on her tongue, made Paige long for a trip north again. Surely there could have been more of the plants scattered around the area.

However, her mind reminded her why the desertion had been mandatory. And with a grimace, she continued on.

Within two more hours of searching and watching the sun steadily creep toward the horizon, Paige managed to find three more dewberry bushes. They successfully filled up two of her water bottles completely, and she was just ready to uncap the third when the snap of a branch behind her, caused her back to stiffen.

The urge to grab Winston from her shoulder, had to be squelched for the moment. At least until she made sure what the noise was.

Instead, she slipped the knife from her front pocket, gripping it until her knuckles turned white. The August weather suddenly seemed cold and gloomy, despite the glaring heat of the sun. All birds ceased their squalling as if sensing something as well. Not even the wind, so unstable the night before, wanted to make its presence known.

Biting down on her lip, Paige spun around, dropping to one knee with knife extended.

Only to find a doe's head peeking out from behind a tree twenty feet ahead, black eyes blinking curiously at her.

She refrained from having a heart attack, shoulders relaxing as the deer continued to blink. The urge to speak to it, rose unexpectedly, but considering she'd already named her sniper and talked to it on occasion, she thought it'd be best to leave the doe alone from the crazy woman.

Quite rapidly, this peace disintegrated.

The second snap of a branch, far closer, caused the doe to scamper to its left. And immediately, Paige tucked back her knife, hands fumbling for Winston.

By the time more branches were breaking apart, the sniper was properly set upon her shoulder, eye glued to the mass of trees the loud snaps were coming from.

Her finger sat curled around the trigger, 100% sure the footsteps belonged to a walker. No one besides herself walked so clumsily through the woods.

When the branches suddenly stopped snapping, Paige's heart beat nearly ceased altogether.

And it remained in a fragile state of indecision, even when the figure popped out from between two trees, teeth snarling at her, eyes lost from any of its former humanity, green uniform torn and bloodied.

The figure was a walker, but Paige nearly let loose a shocked sob at the familiar face.

Her eyes snapped shut for a moment, helpless to fight the returning memory. The memory tangled within her nightmares.

"You need help? We're sheltering some survivors at a makeshift base just up the road."

Again, she shuddered, even as the walker set its feral gaze on her.

"Yeah, I don't doubt you. You'll get what Atlanta couldn't provide. Safety and comfort."

A rabid snarl sprouted from the man's lips, and the sound forced Paige's finger to release back over the trigger without thought, sending a bullet straight through the former cadet's eye.

He crumbled to the ground, flailing a bit, but dying almost immediately.

Paige only stared, eyes now wide open, hands trembling, heart beat rocketing up its rate.

It's him. Sweet Jesus, it's him.

She knew his name, but the memories associated with it made her purposefully forgetful. If she forgot his name, perhaps she'd forget what happened after she'd followed his promise of safety and comfort.

Slowly, Paige urged her body to calm down, but minutes passed by before she even thought to lower Winston.

He's been bitten, obviously. And...he's made it this far.

All of a sudden, she did lower her weapon. Threw it to the ground to be more precise.

Both arms went to hug either side of her as she fell to her butt on the leaves, unable to fight the shakes rattling her. Her nightmares readied themselves to play before her eyes, but she stubbornly kept them back, focusing on keeping her breaths even.

Get it together, Paige. Now! He's dead. Entirely.

Exhaling, Paige's eyes traveled to his dead form, particularly on his camouflaged green uniform.

"You fucking bastard," she spat suddenly, momentarily channeling all her anger at the dead man.

This time, the tears came. Not in overwhelming numbers, but a few stray trickles over her dry cheeks.

She would have stayed there well into the night, glaring at the dead man, sitting on the leaf strewn ground, if not for another noise breaching the cool air, undeterminable, but there nonetheless

Paige shot up from her position, eyes scanning the area wildly. The noise came from far away, but she no longer wished to stick around to see who her surprise visitor could be.

Forget staying the night. Forget looking for more food. I have to leave. Now.

Throwing Winston back over her shoulder, Paige retracted her knife and broke into a jog through the brush, focused on making it to camp in the rapidly falling darkness. Once everything was packed, she would run as far as her legs could carry her.

DPDDPDDPDDPD

Daryl instantly stopped in place when the shot ran out, hands instinctively clutching his crossbow tighter. It sounded maybe three miles north, but he couldn't tell initially.

Nothing else pierced the sound waves, however, so he redirected his path toward the source of the gun shot. A part of him momentarily froze up at the thought that the Grass Fox could be hurt, but he quickly shrugged this off, knowing the woman to be thick skinned. And from the sound of the sniper, she knew what she was doin'.

As the sun began retreatin', Daryl forced himself to think only of his trackin' rather than the woman. Which was really fuckin' ironic since it'd nearly always been the other way around before. Thinkin' of huntin' when he was with a woman cause usually, the types Merle picked out for him, didn't know how to shut the hell up.

He wondered briefly if Merle did this intentionally so he'd take to hittin' them just as he had.

But his patience never snapped as quickly as his brother's, and thinkin' about the woods always calmed him.

This time, it was the other way around.

Fuckin' women.

The thought nearly caused him to laugh.

About forty-five minutes later and Daryl finally found the recipient of the Grass Fox's fury.

According to the wound, she'd shot him from up close, and he just had to look at the diameter of the shot and see bits of the bullet fightin' its way outta the walker's brain, to know she'd used one of the bullets he'd stocked her with.

Why tha hell you'd let him get so close?

This was when Daryl actually decided to take a proper look at who she'd shot.

The man, from what he could pick out in the growing darkness, had to be relatively young. Also military, Private Elijah Matthews having been stenciled into the fabric of his uniform.

Other than that, Daryl didn't know what coulda possibly spooked her.

And he didn't like the feelin' he was gettin' from the encounter either. It seemed sloppy...and personal.

So, with a last scan of the walker, he continued on, relieved to have finally picked up the Grass Fox's trail, but unnerved at how erratic and careless it was gettin'.

DPDDPDDPDDPD

Paige's fingers shook as she zipped up her book bag, water bottles safely stored inside. Her lungs burned from the jog back, but she disregarded the discomfort, moving instead to rolling up the sleeping bag.

The tiniest line just above the horizon still blinked with an orange ember, but otherwise, one could assume night time had descended.

Paige worked diligently, paying no mind to the darkness around her. She knew traveling at night when the walkers were more restless, was a huge risk.

But considering who she'd encountered, that risk was willing to be made.

If he was there...the others...they can't be far behind. Granted...he was dead, but he'd died close to here.

This reoccurring thought did not cease to instill panic in her.

I knew staying here for so long was a bad idea. I knew it. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

Her frustration kept forcing her fingers to slide over the zipper, properly cold now for the first time in a long while. With a growl, she opened her book bag again and started to smother the sleeping bag down in the remaining room.

"Well, shit Private Lewis, look who we have here."

For a moment, Paige forgot to breathe entirely, fear petrifying her form.

Only dread made her turn her head into the direction of the voice.

"Didn't think you'd be seeing us again, huh, sweetheart?" the second man laughed in response. "Boy have we been looking for you, alright."

It took a moment for the night to properly reveal their uniformed bodies, but when it did, Paige submitted with a sick ease to the helplessness rooted in the pit of her stomach. She completely forgot that she still had a knife on her and a sniper resting at her knees.

Safety and comfort no longer existed.

"Aw...I think we've shocked her," Lewis mocked, observing her seated form. "Know any way to get her moving?"

The other private grinned at the joke, mouth twisting in a gruesome grin.

"I know a few ways."

Unexpected story line suddenly slamming you in the face? You're welcome. Let me know your thoughts in a review!