All is Fair in Love and War

When Rick found Jamie and Daryl the next morning, they had abandoned their place on the couch to take up residence on the front porch. T-Dog had been on watch, but they allowed him to head inside to get some sleep when they decided to get some air. There was no point in them all being out there when there was the chance for one of the three to get some sleep. At first, when he spotted them, he was worried that they had fallen asleep even after hearing Hershel's strict warnings, but when he saw that Daryl seemed to be pointing out to things along the treeline; he realized they were simply staying quiet and personal.

Wrapped up in two thick blankets from the front closet, Jamie was curled into Daryl's side with her good temple resting against his throat as he was speaking in a barely there voice. His arm was wrapped protectively around her back, keeping her in place as well as sharing the warmth that he was able to pass along to her through the physical contact.

Rick smiled as he stepped mostly out of view, not wanting to disturb the couple. At the angle that he was viewing them, he could see that Jamie smiled every once and a while, or would laugh silently with shaking shoulders. Daryl would turn to face her whenever she laughed, pressing his lips to her cheek or temple or hair.

"You would have made a great detective," Jamie whispered against the blanket that was wrapped tightly around her form, rolling her eyes up to look at Daryl. She could see her fatigue mirrored on his face, the slowed and almost hanging fashion of his hand as he pointed things out that were along the tree line, invisible to her eyes but spotted by Daryl's sharp interest.

Daryl huffed almost mockingly, getting a tired and weak swat on the leg for his troubles.

"I've been thinking," Daryl started again, his tone more serious than it had been as he was pointing out where he would spot movements in the trees and brush. "Jamie Dixon doesn't sound too bad." Jamie smiled tiredly and leaned more heavily against her lover, wrapping an arm around his waist in return for his own embrace. "Might just catch on."

Smiling more broadly, she reached for Daryl's hand and laced their fingers together as her eyes closed for a moment longer than she should have. "Mrs. Jamie Dixon; the girls back at work would have had a blast when they heard that." Daryl's chest vibrated with his chuckle as he returned the hold she had on his hand, warming the chilled digits.

A sudden knock on the door behind them caused both to turn and glance over their shoulders, Daryl's free hand instinctively moving to the handgun that was tucked in his boot. Rick stood in the doorway, dressed for the day and appeared to already have groomed himself to his regular style. "Hershel's going to be up soon; why don't you both come down for some breakfast before he checks Jamie over?"

"That sounds really nice, actually," Jamie agreed with a tired smile. Rick could see the shadows under her eyes that nearly matched the bruise that had surrounded the gash on her head the night before. Sympathy was reflected in his eyes and she gave him a soft smile at the sight of it before she allowed Daryl to help her to her feet.

"How was your night?" he asked out of courtesy, already knowing that having to stay awake all night because of a concussion would have been awful.

"Far longer than any all-nighter I've had in the past," she answered in a slightly grouchy tone, getting amused glanced from both men that were discretely hidden so that she didn't go off on them. Daryl's own movements were sluggish, however, and Rick frowned in concern. If Shane did attack, he admitted that he would have preferred that Daryl be at top functioning strength. It would have been useless to try and convince him to rest, though, since he wouldn't have left Jamie for anything while she was injured. "How did you sleep?" Jamie finally asked in return as they all made their way toward the kitchen where the women were already beginning to make a simple breakfast as quietly as they could.

"Not very good, to be honest," he admitted, seeing Jamie frown in concern and placing a hand on her shoulder to assure her that he was alright. "You two go sit down, you look ready to fall over."

"Not my fault," Jamie commented, but did as she was told and sat down in her regular seat around the Greene's dining table. Daryl took the chair to her right, running his fingers down her skull soothingly. Her hair was still quite soft from her recent shower, even though she had refused to run a brush through it with the pulsing headache that she had had the night before. Any knots or tangles the teeth encountered would have send a lightning bolt of pain through her skull.

"Hey," Andrea greeted softly as she came up to Jamie's other side, placing a hand on her arm in a gesture that told Jamie she was trying to be friends. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I got hit by a truck and then wasn't allowed rest," she answered honestly. "I may harm Hershel if he tells me I need to stay awake any longer," she added on after a moment, getting a faint smile from the other blonde.

"Good to have you back, Jamie. We missed you."

Jamie grinned, the look bordering on mischievous, and replied, "Oh, I know. How did you guys function without me?"

Daryl almost snorted beside her, the hand that had once been running through her hair resting on the back of Jamie's chair. Andrea just shook her head in amusement before departing to the kitchen to see what she could do to help. Lori glanced through the doorway every once and a while, looking to where Jamie slouched at the table. Her eyes were sad and irritated all at once, her past emotions of jealousy for the other woman not quite diminished. She did want to talk to the other woman, desperately. Especially after the move that Shane had pulled the day before. She honestly didn't know what the man was thinking.

"I take it that I'm going to be stuck using the buddy system for a while, huh?" Jamie asked Daryl after a minute of silence between the two.

"Hell yea," Daryl answered immediately and Jamie sighed beside him. Of course she was going to be forced to convert back to the babysat little blonde girl until she was well enough; that went for both her knee and her head.

"This is going to feel like forever," she grumbled out, glowering at Daryl's serious stare. The clash of blue and hazel wasn't angry or verging on an argument, but a battle of wills that both knew who was going to win.

"Can I get you guys anything to drink?" Lori asked timidly as she entered the room, wringing a dry cloth in her hands nervously. Jamie looked up in slight surprise at the appearance of the other woman before she glanced back over to Daryl, discreetly motioning for him to leave them alone. He didn't look pleased and the glance that was sent Lori's way warned her silently about what condition he found Jamie in upon returning, before he stood and pressed a kiss to Jamie's crown.

Lori hesitantly moved into the room and took the seat on Jamie's other side, feeling as though she would be invading Daryl's territory if she took his seat. The injured blonde watched every move she made, but didn't say anything as Lori took the seat silently and stared down at her hands like they had the answer to what was happening between them.

"We haven't had a chance to talk this out like adults," Jamie finally started, breaking the silence between them. Lori was beginning to feel like a scolded child under Jamie's eyes, and immediately straightened her back and looked into the other woman's serious gaze. She wasn't about to be seen as weak or submissive to this woman. She is what could be considered as the alpha female of the group and her place is higher than Jamie's.

However, that pride deflated slightly at the visible narrowing of Jamie's eyes as she soon as she spotted the defiance on Lori's face.

"Stop acting like a superior bitch, Lori," she immediately snapped, causing her once friend to flinch back. There was a deepness that had entered Jamie's tone that told of her annoyance and very short patience. "It's not going to help."

"I know," Lori admitted finally, almost sounding as tired as Jamie felt. "And I am so sorry. I-I stepped out of line when I accused you of sleeping with Rick, and it took me a while to realize that. I didn't say it to hurt you, I was just afraid. I guess it has a lot to do with me and Shane; I was looking for a fault in Rick that wasn't there and you got caught in the middle. That wasn't fair of me."

"I don't care about fairness, Lori," Jamie mumbled, blinking tiredly. It probably wasn't the best time to be having this particular conversation, but she didn't know when they'd get the chance again. "And neither does the reality that we're living in. I don't want to be your enemy and I definitely don't want to continue this stupid fight. It might just get one of us killed in the future."

Lori flinched at the hidden message in Jamie's words and nodded her head in agreement.

"I didn't know that our fight would spur Shane on to such lengths-"

"I'm not too surprised, actually," Jamie interrupted and watched Lori's eyes widen. "I know that Daryl would act quite drastically if I showed signs of disliking or feeling threatened by someone, but he and Shane are very different. This new world we're stuck in has changed Shane from whoever you and Rick once knew. He's a loose cannon and very unpredictable. As has been proved."

Lori took a chance and reached for Jamie's hand, the chill from sitting outside still clinging to her skin. "I'm sorry for what's happened between us, Jamie; and for what Shane's done to you. I know that you're probably never going to like me very much but I do want us to be friends again. I want to be able to see you with Carl and not feel jealousy or fear that you're trying to replace me. I want you be friends with Rick and make him happy without being paranoid of losing my husband-"

"Lori," Jamie interrupted as she placed her other hand over hers and Lori's, beginning to feel overwhelmed by the other woman's confessions. She was much too tired for this conversation, but it was too late to turn back now. "Please. I promise you that I will never try to take your place; Carl is your son and you're a wonderful mother, and Rick is your husband and he loves you. I have Daryl and, as kind as Rick is, I would never give Daryl up for someone else."

Lori laughed tearfully before suddenly reaching forward and pulling the younger woman into a hug, taking her by surprise. "Thank you, Jamie. I want to ask you for forgiveness but I know that I don't deserve it," she whispered against Jamie's shoulder, the softness of the blanket she was wrapped in caressing her cheek.

"I'm not ready to hand out forgiveness, but you do deserve it, Lori. One fault doesn't change everything else that you've done for me and Daryl while we've been here," Jamie soothed, running her hand up and down Lori's back in a rhythmic, soothing pattern. "I think that we both need some time to sit back and think on this. My emotions are way to erratic right now and you're going to make me cry if we keep talking so girlishly, and then Daryl's gunna come in here looking for blood."

Lori laughed along with Jamie as the pulled apart, rubbing under their eyes to alleviate the sensation of oncoming tears.

"I should go and help get breakfast finished before Hershel comes out," Lori said quickly as she rose to her feet, flashing a small smile to Jamie before she pushed in her chair and quickly moved toward the kitchen with the dry towel once more gripped in her hands.

Letting out a long exhale, Jamie deflated in her seat until her forehead was resting on the table. With how tired she as, she probably could have very easily fallen asleep right where she was. The seat that Lori had been in was pulled out again, however, and Jamie rolled her forehead along the table just enough to stare out the corner of her eye and see who had taken her place. Rick was perched on the edge of the chair, almost cautiously.

"It's alright, you don't have to try and delay World War III. We were having a civil conversation and have begun to work things through. However, I have put the discussion on pause until a time that I'm not about to fall asleep sitting up." Rick placed a hand on her back soothingly, much as Jamie had only done moments before with Lori.

"Thank you for being so patient with everything, Jamie," he whispered gratefully. Jamie smiled, knowing that he could see from the angle she had her head placed, before patting him weakly on the knee. "Don't go falling asleep now, or staying up all night will have been pointless."

Childishly, Jamie turned her head and stuck her tongue out at him. He just laughed, however, before giving her a light pat on the back and leaving the table. Jamie blearily thought about how Lori's manners were much better; she had pushed the chair back into place but Rick had left in hazardously pushed out and in the way of people passing by.

It seemed like hours later, but breakfast finally ended and Hershel had taken Jamie aside to check over her pupil responses. Minutes later, she and Daryl had both been sent to the spare room down the hall for a mandatory couple of hours of rest. Jamie didn't even take a moment to consider complaining over being bedridden and instead moved faster than she had all day to get to the bed at the proposition of sleep. The only flaw was that someone would have to come in and wake her up after a couple of hours and go over the questioning; 'who am I? What was your mother's maiden name? What Religion do you follow?' Daryl had chuckled when she scowled at the thought of being woken up but didn't comment.

Carol volunteered to be the designated 'wake-up call' and would be sticking close to the house. Meanwhile, the others would be heading out to see if there were any signs of Shane and to check Randal's body better for any sign of a bite mark. The observation of no bites was startling and worrying, but they had convinced themselves that it must have been a scratch or something of the sort. Andrea was firmly convinced that Randal had been turning while with Shane because of a scratch and the cop broke his neck in self-defence, hoping to deter him because of his lack of weapon—that was argued, however, because he still has Jamie's—Daryl's—knife.

Whereas Jamie was able to fall asleep almost immediately, Daryl laid awake a while longer. Propped up on his elbow, he gently traced along Jamie's exposed back—lying on her stomach with her face turned toward him. Thinking back to the dark bruising that had once marred her skin, he ran his hand along her side and ribs, knowing that she probably still had ghostly aches every once and a while because of it. She tried to make herself appear so strong, but she was still fragile. Her skin still bruised and her bones still broke, no matter how resilient she tried to be against the harshness of an apocalypse.

Letting his arm give out beneath him, Daryl laid out so that his torso was partially draped over her back with an arm tucked around her waist to keep her tight against him. She exhaled loudly in her sleep, her back rising and falling with the movement, before she fell silent and still once again. Resting his chin above her head on the pillow, he allowed his eyes to close and the fatigue of the night before the catch up to him and the rhythmic pattern of Jamie's breathing to lull him to sleep.

"Sorry to break it to you, little brother, but she's gone," Merle snapped as he leaned almost casually against the doorway to Jamie's apartment. There wasn't a single sign of her being there, even though it had been hours since Daryl had told her to leave her hotel. Daryl, running from room to room as he continued to call for her, didn't seem to hear his brother.

"Jamie!" he nearly screamed, slamming the door to her office when he found the same result there as well.

"She's dead!" Merle yelled at him, receiving a look of hatred and threats from the younger Dixon sibling. "Come on, did you really think she'd survive? This ain't a place for women," he continued, pushing away from the wall and approaching his seething younger brother. "Just let it go-"

"Fuck you!" Daryl roared, slamming his hands against his brother's chest hard enough to push Merle back against the wall next to Jamie's bedroom door. "She ain't fuckin' dead."

"Of course she is!" Merle yelled back, the anger at Daryl's defiance shining in his eyes. His arms were tensed and the tendons in his neck were beginning to press hard against his flesh. He looked ready to murder someone, but Daryl stood his ground against his brother.

"I won't just leave here, knowing she'll come back," Daryl declared, moving toward the kitchen of the apartment to see what supplies she had. When she did come back to her apartment they would need to leave town, get to the city as soon as possible. It would be better to head toward where the military had everything under control. Before he could make it a couple of paces, Merle's arm was against his throat and he had him held up against the wall.

"Now listen to me, you little shit, you're going to do as I say and leave the bitch behind; the only way she's coming back to you is to try and eat you alive," Merle growled in his others face, the stench of alcohol on his breath. "That cunt's gone and made you soft-"

A sharp punch to the gun cut him off, before Daryl elbowed him in the face hard enough to send him to the ground, nearly knocking over to small table that he remembered his fiancé to place her purse and keys whenever she got home. "Never call her that," he threatened, wishing that he was low enough of a man to kick his brother in the balls while he was still on the ground. He wasn't Merle, though, and refused to lower himself to such a degrading state.

"You think that she's helping you, huh? Pity for little Daryl Dixon," Merle laughed, spitting blood onto Jamie's hardwood flooring. "That whore isn't doing nothin' for you, little brother. She would just leave you sooner or later." Pulling himself to his feet, he wiped the blood from the split lip that Daryl had given him before smiling. "You know it, too. That's why yer so afraid; you know I'm right-"

"She agreed to marry me," Daryl finally snapped, watching the shock that rose to his brother's face in satisfaction. "So shut the fuck up."

Daryl was jolted awake when a soft knock sounded on the door to the room he and Jamie slept in, only a moment before Carol leaned around the opening door to glance inside. Daryl blearily lifted his head from the pillow as the light spilled in from the hallway—the curtain to the outside were all drawn closed and blocking out the sunlight to let them sleep.

"Jamie needs to wake up for a bit," she whispered to Daryl, feeling as though she had stepped in on some kind of intimate moment. They had only been sleeping, that she could tell, but Daryl seemed to be wrapped tightly around Jamie in a loving and protective embrace.

"A'right," Daryl agreed, nodding as he blinking tiredly. After finally falling asleep, he no longer wanted to stay awake. Carol smiled slightly awkwardly before she slipped back out into the hall and quietly closed the door behind her. Daryl looked down at Jamie in that moment, watching her blonde waves of hair roll off of her shoulder when he pulled away. Her skin was beginning to steadily lose the bold tan as she wore longer sleeved shirts more and more.

Bending down, he pressed a kiss against her shoulder lovingly as his hand stroked down her back.

"Wake up, Angel," he called to her softly, gently shaking her to wake her up. Jamie made a faint moaning sound, barely even audible, and tried to bury her face deeper into the pillow. "None of that, Babe, up." Moaning a bit louder, she reached over and swatted at the first thing that she could reach, hitting his lower abdomen. "Hey now, doctor's orders."

"Screw the doctor's orders," she grumbled against the pillowcase fabric, getting a smirk of amusement from the man at her side.

"Well, you seem to be alright. What's your mother's maiden name?"

"Wright," Jamie answered reluctantly. "My name is Jamie Knight, soon to be Jamie Dixon, and I am not religious. Happy?"

Rolling his clear blue eyes, Daryl slipped back down in the bed and wrapped his arms around Jamie once more, pulling her flush against his chest. Sighing contentedly, she reached around to throw her arm over his side in a half-hearted way of returning the embrace, before she closed her eyes and was soon lulled to sleep once more.

Been a while, and for that I am forever sorry to those that have been awaiting an update. I didn't mean to let this story hang for so long—I've actually been going through withdrawal from the lack of time I have to write. I keep getting ideas in my head and then I can't even follow through on them because I've got other crap to do or my computers not with me. Lots of post-it-notes litter my walls with snippets of ideas for all of my stories. Anyway, I can't guarantee anything, but I'll try to have a shorter wait time before the next one.

Chapter 43 – Distant Dreamers

Rick caused a minute to look around, more than likely just an excuse to think. "Shane's not the person that I use to know, so I'm not sure I can answer that in complete honesty."

"Try," Daryl threw in, his tone bordering on a challenge.

"I think that Shane would have taken off the second he got the chance. I don't know exactly why he killed Randal, maybe just cause he wanted him to bite Jamie, but he wouldn't risk going to meet up with his friends. Going from one group with someone in charge to another is entirely contradictory."

"I was wonderin' that," Daryl admitted, his crossbow slung up on his shoulder. "Doesn't seem like the type to fall in line. Why go to a group that would just treat him like a soldier?"

"He's still here," Jamie growled out, both men turning to look at her. She wasn't staring at any kind of evidence that could have shown he had been there, but there was a darkness to her eyes that made them appear more brown then hazel. "He wanted us to think he'd gone to Randal's group."

"Why?"

"To scare us."