Personal Death Squad

Jamie sat on the roof of one of the cars as she looked over to where Daryl was in the shed with Rick, the two men 'talking' with Shane and Randal. She wasn't fooled; it was a no brainer that there was going to be violence involved. Andrea wandered over to where Jamie was sitting, the two women silent as they looked off toward the shed.

"You were pretty close to Shane, weren't you?" Jamie asked without looking over to Andrea. The other blonde ducked her head for a moment, kicking at the dirt beneath her feet as she tried to think of how to answer the question. "You don't have to think so hard, it's a yes or no answer."

"Yes," Andrea replied. "A couple of times, Shane wanted to leave this group behind after you and Rick showed up. He didn't like that Rick was taking all his power away, I guess. After Amy died…I really wanted to go with him. I was angry at Dale, I was angry at myself. Shane was a way out of all of it. Now…I'm not really sure what I feel for him." Jamie nodded her head in understanding, her fingers playing with the hilt of the hunting knife in her lap.

"What do you think is going to happen?"

"I think Shane's going to be shown leniency," she scoffed, "And Randal's going to die. He's technically the bigger threat with a group that won't hesitate to kill. Shane was once a part of this fucked up team, so they won't want to kill him." Jamie almost laughed out loud; don't want to kill him. As she thought it over, she actually did laugh out loud, finally drawing Andrea's eyes up to her with confusion written all over her face. "What?"

"You're wrong," Jamie said easily. "Daryl I know for a fact would not hesitate to kill Shane if it was up to him. He'd torture Shane until he was begging for death. And Rick…Rick has a hatred for Shane that I don't think even he knows about. His once best friend convinced his wife he was dead, screwed her, tried to take up his place as father for Carl and claims that Lori's baby is his. Shane's the kind of person you don't want around in a Zombie Apocalypse; he'd probably shoot you in the foot so he could get away."

Andrea was looking at Jamie with wide eyes, the older staring off with a dark gaze. She still looked very tired after the previous two days, but she wasn't falling over herself every time she needed to stand on her own. Andrea, though she hated to admit it, admired Jamie's connection with the men of the group. She could easily get along with a group of guys, but at the same time she had a motherly/sisterly feel about her that drew people to feel comfortable when she was nearby.

Inside the shed, Daryl didn't even feel the pain that he knew he should with every collision of his fist with Randal's face, the younger falling to the ground hard as he cried out in pain. Rick stood back near where Shane was chained to the other wall. Randal was using his police cuffs, so they had to improvise with the older man.

"I told you," he whimpered, spitting out blood onto the ground. The red ran down his face, his lips and nose bleeding from the repetitive beatings that he had undergone.

"You ain't told me shit!" Daryl yelled, taking a harsh hold of the front of Randal's shirt to hoist him up before slamming his back against the hard wooden boards behind him. Rick watched with a calm demeanour, knowing that they needed to get all the information they could on the threat before making any decisions.

"I hardly knew those guys!" Randal yelled back, heaving for air as he looked up to Daryl with one good eye, the other beginning to swell shut. "I met them on the road," he continued, looking over to Rick as though he hoped he would save him again. No such luck, however, as Rick simply stared straight at him without moving. Shane was surprisingly silent as he slouched against the wall, glaring at the floorboards.

"How many are in the group?" Rick finally asked, both he and Daryl watching him as they waited for an answer. Randal didn't answer as he continued to breath heavily, looking anywhere but them as he appeared to think it over. He looked like he was about to say that he didn't know, but Daryl pulled the hunting from its sheath attached to his belt.

"No, no, no, no," Randal quickly chanted at seeing the knife, fidgeting against the restraints that held him in place. "Come on, man," he begged desperately, crying out and flinching when he saw Daryl raise the knife and bring it down toward his leg. Instead of hitting him, though, he missed by a mere inch, causing Randal to begin trembling.

"How many?" Daryl demanded, his voice rising to a new level.

"Thirty!" Randal yelled out, desperate to save himself. "Thirty! Thirty guys!"

"Where?" Daryl growled, looking like a cage animal on the hunt for blood. Randal hadn't quite caught on to what happens when he takes a long time to answer, and Daryl reminded him by ripping off the bandage over his leg, not only painful because of the tape being torn from his skin up the pain of the injury being aggravated. Rick looked toward Shane, wondering if there was going to be any reaction from him toward what Daryl was doing.

"I don't know it, I swear!" Daryl lowered the knife down to the injury, putting the end to the cut as he began to dig into it. "We were never in a place for more than a night!" Between a mixture of physical torture and disgusting words, Daryl was slowly cracking through the barrier of ignorance that Randal was trying to convey.

"You seem right at home right now, huh, Daryl?" Shane taunted at last, getting Rick's attention but not even phasing Daryl. He knew that he was going to have his chance at Shane, he just needed to wait for the right opportunity. Rick kicked the other man harshly in the ankle, silencing him and getting a glare from his once best friend. Shane's hatred for the other man was easily seen through his dark eyes, looking into Rick's light ones.

Randal's submission on the other side of the small shed drew Rick's attention once more, Shane glaring at the back of his head a moment longer. "They have weapons," he finally admitted, Daryl keeping his hunting knife threateningly close to Randal's knee, "Heavy stuff. B-but but I didn't do anything!" he gasped out, trying to squirm away from Daryl's grip and the threat he had on his injury.

"Took a shot at my boys? My girl? Try to take this farm?" He was beginning to flush with anger and he leaned close while his voice rose in volume. "You just went along for the ride and you try to tell me you were innocent?" The thought of Randal taking even one shot at Jamie while she was locked inside a bar, injured, made his blood boil and he wished that he could do more than just lay in on the boy's face with his fists or cut up his injury.

"Yes!" Randal yelled back, his chest heaving. "T-t-these people took me in," he said in lower, less desperate voice. "Not just guys! A-a whole group of 'em; men and women, uh-kids, too! Just like you people." Daryl finally pulled his knife away as the boy began spitting out anything that he could that he thought would keep him safe. "I thought I'd have a better chance with them, you know?"

Daryl began to pace slightly, just from one side of Randal's outstretched legs to the other, and Rick would be damned if he didn't say that he looked like a caged animal. Daryl was out for blood and he couldn't even imagine what he wanted to do to Shane; Randal wasn't the one that had accosted her while she was naked in the shower and he was barely even recognizable.

"But we'd go out and scavenge with just the men," Randal continued, swallowing to try and alleviated the sudden tightness in his throat. "One night, we found this little camp sight. This man and his two daughters, teenagers—real young…real cute." Rick looked over when Daryl stopped pacing, his body directed toward the door and preventing any of them from seeing the look on his face. His shoulders were still locked up and tense and Rick knew that he was feeling the same disgust and hate curling in his stomach that he was. It didn't take a genius to know the direction of the story and neither man wanted to hear any more details. But Randal continued, "The dad had to watch while the guys-they….and they didn't even kill him after-words! They…they just made him watch."

Rick glared down at the man as he listened to him. It wasn't the story of a disgusted, frightened young man. This was the story of a man that had enjoyed and was revelling in the memory. His eyes were distant as he spoke, thinking back to everything that he had seen, and all that he may have done that night. Looking over to Daryl, his hand was tight around the hilt of his knife and he craved to drive it into Randal's heart.

Shane was sneering down at the floorboards, listening to the scared little boy speak. And when he tried to deny having any part in the story Daryl lunged forward and planted a kick to his injured knee, sending Randal onto his side as he gasped and cried out in pain. He couldn't stop the chuckle that bubbled up in his throat and Rick couldn't stop Daryl from turning on the ex-cop, knife raised.

"Daryl-"

"Go ahead, Dixon! Show that fiancé of yours out there the real monster that you are," Shane leered with a taunting smile full of blood on his face. Daryl used his other hand, free of the knife, to drive a punch straight into Shane's face. He just laughed, spitting blood. "Fuckin' pathetic. Amazing that she's stayed with you as long as she has, what with the way that she looks. Yea, she could do-"

Instead of Daryl, Rick was the one to interrupt Shane's crude words as he brought the heel of his boot down on the man's shin, not with the force to break the bone but hard enough that it sent painful vibrations through his leg and torso. Daryl looked over to the other man, surprised that he had actually done something more than just a slight kick to shut him up. "What's really pathetic is treating people the way you do, Shane. You think this is going to impress anyone? Make you look all big and strong in front of everyone? The protector that they're waiting for?" Rick hissed into the other man's face, crouching down to even out their height. "You're the kind of guy that we used to warn teenage girls about, Shane. The one that thinks he's got the rights to anything he wants."

Shane, lights tightened into a line, glared up at him. "'Cause you're a fuckin' saint, right, Rick? Can't tell me you haven't seen those two and thought the same."

Rick got right into Shane's face with a dark look in his eyes. "No, I haven't thought the same. I can look you in the eye and tell you honestly that Jamie and Daryl are perfect together. I can tell you that I was happy for them when they met up again. I can look you in the eye and admit that I can even be jealous of the way they are together." There was a light burning behind Rick's eyes that made Shane lean back, shocked at the sight of it. "And try all you want, you know that you can't break Jamie so easily."

Shane knew too well. His groin was still reminding him not to go near the blonde if he ever got out of the cuffs and shed.

"What were you thinking of accomplishing?" Rick asked after a brief pause. "Did you really think that sneaking in on Jamie and threatening her was going to work in your favour. In what world would that have been a good idea?"

"I was trying to protect your wife," Shane yelled back at last.

"Jamie'd sooner protect Lori than you would," Daryl growled from the background, still looking as tense and pissed off as he had when punching him in the face. "I bet you'd turn a blind eye the second your ass was on the line."

"'Cause you'd go out of your way, right Daryl?" Shane mocked, meeting Daryl's dark stare.

"If I remember correctly," Rick interrupted, "it was Daryl that warned us of the walkers after the CDC blew up and saved your life." Looking back at Daryl, Rick pretended to actually have to think it over when it was glaringly obvious. Daryl had been the one slamming on the horn of his truck when Shane was out in the open, warning of a herd of walkers on their way. It was the same day that he had outsmarted Andrea and left the blonde pissed and annoyed at having the supposedly stupid and slow redneck make her look like a fool.

"Biggest mistake of my fuckin' life," Daryl snarled, looking directly into Shane's dark eyes. Turning on heel, he slammed the door of the shed open and strode out into the bright sunlight, Rick hesitating a moment more before following after, leaving Shane and Randal alone.

"What are we gunna do?" Rick asked in a weary voice, glancing over their shoulder as they made their way back toward where the others were waiting. Jamie was sitting on top of the van's hood, looking over in their direction with an unreadable expression. The others seemed to be nervously flitting around, trying to find something to busy themselves with.

"Can't let Randal go back to his group," Daryl answered immediately, "Not with the chance that he'll lead them here."

"You want to kill him."

"I want to kill Shane. We need to kill Randal," Daryl correctly, making sure his knife was in the sheath on his hip properly. "Either we all leave and let them go, never coming back here, or we kill them and never worry about the threat again." He knew that Rick was struggling immensely with the decision of what to do, especially since one of the men had once been his best friend. He was glad that he didn't have to make the choice, but at the same time he wouldn't hesitate to kill both of them. In his eyes, they weren't innocent in any light and didn't deserve an ounce of trust that could be given.

Jamie slid toward the edge of the car roof as Daryl veered away from Rick to go to her, leaving the other man to explain what they had found out. He let his crossbow slide from his shoulder when he was close to the can and lean it against the metal, his freed hands seeking out Jamie's hips as she leaned against him.

"You're knuckles are busted," she mumbled against his neck as she wrapped her arms around him in greeting. It only took a glance to see the blood that had bloomed on his fists, both from his own cuts and from the men's, she was sure. Which one he had beat more, she didn't know but she had a dark wish inside of her gut that it had been Shane.

Daryl pressed a kiss against her temple before leaning his head against hers. "I'll be fine," he assured softly, pressing his thumbs into soothing circles on her hips. Against her will, she relaxed and smiled. It was something that he had begun before they were even dating, though it was considered to be much more intimate now. "Rick still doesn't want to kill them, but he knows that we have to. That, or everyone pack up and take off."

"Poor guy," Jamie breathed out, her eyes flickering toward where Rick looked tense and uneasy with the others of the group. "How'd things go?"

"I know that if I don't kill Shane, Rick's getting there," Daryl answered immediately, making Jamie's lips twitch as they fought between a smile and a frown. Though she wished Shane was gone and she knew that Rick had to show Shane who was the true leader or the group, she didn't want a man to have to kill his once best friend. There would always be a bound between them and even in the final moments of life between either of them, it would hold true. Throughout everything that had happened, she knew that Rick could still, in time or in some phenomenal way, forgive the other ex-cop for his transgressions. Daryl, on the other hand, would sooner go homicidal rather than forgiving. "Randal's completely fucked up, and we both know it."

"I don't want to know," Jamie mumbled against his neck, turning her face into the warmth of his skin to calm herself down and allow his presence alone to bring her the comfort that she needed. "I love you," she whispered, her fingers gliding along the material that made up the feathers on the back of his leather vest.

Pulling her all the more tight against his chest, Daryl wished that he could take all of the fear that he knew she was feeling right out of her. However, he knew it was impossible and instead simply settled on doing all he could to bring her comfort, even if that meant killing the one that she feared. He would do anything that he could for her, and she knew it to. If she asked him to kill both of the men in the shed, he would turn back around in a heartbeat and put an arrow between each of their eyes. "I love you, too, Jamie."

Somehow, the use of her name instead of 'Angel' or 'Babe' made the words all that more important and she almost sobbed in happiness as she clutched him with all her strength, nearly bringing pain as her knees tightened on either side of his waist.

Only pulling back after she had gotten her fill of his warm body, she son caught his lips in a long, slow kiss.

"Don't get carried away, now," T-Dog said as he was walking passed the van, getting the middle finger from Daryl as his other hand kept her head in place when she moved to pull away. A smile pulled at her lips from the action and she quickly lifted her hands to stroke along his jaw.

They still pulled away a moment later as T-Dog continued on, laughing quietly to himself as he tried his best to ignore the two 'love birds'. Jamie smiled against Daryl's lips as she placed one final, chaste kiss against them before pulling back entirely. "We can't just stand here all day," she mumbled, still reluctant to leave his arms.

"You ain't standing," Daryl countered as he playfully tugged on the ends of her hair. A slightly scornful look was his answer and he chuckled deeply as he pulled away and allowed her to drop down off the truck and stand on her own two feet.

Leaning in close to Daryl so that he could wrap his arm around her shoulders, Jamie let out a sigh and walked with him very quietly back toward the campsite where everyone else was beginning to disperse. Troubled looks lingered on everyone's faces and Jamie only wished that she could just take away everything that had happened in the past twenty-four hours. And yet, she also felt better knowing that Shane's behaviour had been exposed and she didn't need to worry about him anymore.

They both paused when they saw Rick being followed by Dale, the older man adamantly trying to convince Rick that death wasn't the answer. Looking around, even Carl was greatly subdued from the behaviour of the people around him.

"Come on," Jamie encourage, "Let's get your hands fixed up."

"Already on it," Carol said as she moved to from behind the two, drawing attentions toward her. "Here, I went out and got these for you." In her hands she was carrying a roll of gauze and a tiny bottle of disinfectant. Handing them to Jamie, she hesitated before the both of them for a moment. "Did you get what you were looking for?" she asked, looking to Daryl. "Approval? Thanks?"

"Carol?" Jamie asked quietly, but it only made the older woman speak faster.

"You couldn't hit me so you beat up a kid, is that who you are now-"

Daryl fluidly interrupted, his voice thick with restrained emotions, "Ain't no kid. He'd do a lot worse than hittin' you if you gave him a chance." Jamie closed her eyes, wanting to keep the thought from her mind. The things that he must have found out while inside that shed were things that she really wished would stay inside the shed.

"That's not what this is about and you know it," Carol snapped. "You can go ahead and take back all of the nice and smart things that you've said, you can try to pretend that you don't care, but we all know it's not true. Some of the things that you've done for these people could put even the nicest person to shame; so don't just go off to tend to your blood fists and act like you don't care."

Without another word, Carol turned on heel and walked away. Jamie blinked in surprise behind her, unsure of how to take the angered woman's words.

"She's right, you know. In some ways you have done things for this group better than even Rick or Dale. You've put your life on the line and yet you're always in the background." Taking his arm in her hand gently, Jamie guided him over to sit on one of the logs that had fallen along the fencing to a field, more than likely to prevent anything from digging under the fence in that place any more.

"I don't care what the others think of me, Jay," Daryl muttered as he allowed her to sit him down, taking the place beside him and laying the gauze out on her lap while she used the cloth it was wrapped in to gently wipe at his bloody hands.

"I'm not saying that you have to care; the people in this camp need to learn to respect other people. Including someone that's usually out of their social circle."

Daryl made a low grumbling noise that sounded more like a growl than anything else, soon accompanied by a distant rumble of thunder that spoke of an oncoming storm. Her hands were soft and gentle, not yet rough with callouses from the guns and manual labour. Daryl felt his cheeks flame with a blush when she bent down and pressed a feather light kiss against the torn skin, cleaned of blood.

"Don't do that, I'm not a kid," he mumbled out, looking away as she smiled and continued her work.

"No, you're my big strong man," she assured, moving to begin wrapping the ointment coated gauze onto his knuckles. They wouldn't last long, she knew that, but she hoped that it was enough that he wore it long enough for them to scab so they didn't get infected.

"Did it hurt?" Jamie looked back over her shoulder at the question, seeing Carl standing there unsurely. "When you punched the guy?" Daryl knew that he was talking about Randal, and felt a sick satisfaction that he had saved his strongest throw for Shane.

"I've been hurt worse," he finally answered, looking down to where Jamie was tying off the gauze and soon reaching for his other hand. "You too, body," he continued, his voice turning gentle after the tone he had taken with Carol. Carl smiled, nodding his head. Jamie understood that he more than likely felt proud that he had been injured, now that he had recovered, and was 'one of the men'.

After a brief pause, Carl motioned to where Daryl had lent his crossbow against the log, asking, "Can you teach me how to shoot that?"

"Your arm ain't long enough," Daryl answered immediately, also knowing that Carl wouldn't be strong enough to load the weapon. It had taken Daryl years of practice to finally get the hang of the strong metal cord and the process of pulling it back to fire the arrow.

"Yes it is," Carl argued, making Jamie want to cringe. One of the reasons that she didn't really want children is the arguing that they did. Even when they knew that they were wrong, they continued to fight just because they really wanted something and would press and press until they got it.

"You just barely got permission for a gun," Jamie said as she finished cleaning the blood from Daryl's other hand with the clean side of the cloth. "Learn to excel in that, first." Looking over her shoulder again, Carl still seemed disappointed but at her words turned and left as though he was ready to go and practice his aim.

"You're too soft," Daryl teased before hissing in pain when Jamie tied the gauze too tight on his knuckles.

"Oops."

Aw, Daryl's so cute! I hope everyone had wonderful holidays, whatever it is you may have been celebrating. I wanted to get this out before New Years, but no dice… I also just got a new laptop yesterday, so I've been having fun with getting used to the new features. Windows Eight is confusing, my god! There's like five different menus and a desktop. Jeez.

Chapter 41 – Stormy Paradise

"You've got a concussion, but I don't see anything else wrong. We'll have Hershel patch you up when we get back." Patting her on the back, they shared a brief, tired smile before Daryl was carefully helping her to her feet. Leaning heavily against him, she tried to remain still as the sky and ground seemed determined to switch places. Daryl's arm was immediately wrapped around her waist, keeping her still. She teetered dangerously, to the point that Rick reached out and placed a gentle but steadying hand on her shoulder.

"I think you should carry her," he directed to Daryl, even though his concerned eyes remained on Jamie. With the light of the flashlight, he was able to see that her face was dangerously pale and she was trembling. Daryl could see her body shaking against his and nodded in agreement. Jamie made a faint grunting noise as Daryl swept her into his arms, making sure that the movement was slow so as not to make her sick from the motions.

"Andrea and T-Dog are probably already on their way back," Glenn said quickly, moving to pick up Daryl's crossbow, since the older man clearly had no way of carrying the weapon properly. Rushing after them, Glenn barely made two feet before something caught his eye.