A/N: Don't own (although I'd love to have my very own Norman Reedus :D) don't sue!

Lyrics are from 'Rain' by Patty Griffin

Rain

Chapter Five

It's hard to listen to a hard, hard heart
Beatin' close to mine
Poundin' up against the stone and steel
Walls that I won't climb
Sometimes a hurt is so deep, deep, deep
You think that you're gonna drown
Sometimes all I can do is weep, weep, weep
With all this rain fallin' down
Strange, how hard it rains now
Rows and rows of big dark clouds
When I'm holding on underneath this shroud
Rain
It's hard to know when to give up the fight
Some things you want will just never be right
It's never rained like it has tonight before
Now, I don't wanna beg you, baby
For something maybe you could never give
I'm not lookin' for the rest of your life
I just want another chance to live
Strange, how hard it rains now
Rows and rows of big dark clouds
When I'm holdin' on underneath this shroud
Rain

Lochie's brand new, very short hair was plastered to her forehead and neck with sweat as Cassidy dragged her to her feet again. Apparently offering her friend a sparring match to ease her mood had been a very bad idea. She'd never seen Cassidy like this. Ever. She was wound up like a jack-in-the-box ready to spring. Something told her it had something to do with Daryl still being conspicuously absent. She probably would have been able to find him relatively easily, if she hadn't been such a stubborn bint. Lochie had given up trying to talk to her about it. Cassidy didn't talk about anything if she could help it.

"Okay, I give." Lochie panted, holding up her hands in surrender as she tried to catch her breath.

Cassidy looked briefly guilty but Lochie waved her off. As they made their way back to the house, Cassidy proved that she really was in a baffling mood.

"I like the hair."

Lochie goggled at her. Girl talk? Really?

"Thanks. Andrea did it."

Cassidy didn't comment, she was scanning the tree line intently.

"Don't worry about him, I'm sure he's fine."

"What? Who?" Cassidy said casually, not fooling Lochie for a second.

"You know who. Don't play the clueless wide-eyed innocent with me." Lochie grinned. "I'm better at it than you."

"Are not." Cassidy protested.

"Am too."

"Are not!" She insisted.

"Am too! You've got too bad a temper to be naïve and sweet."

Cassidy muttered something sulkily but didn't reply. As they neared the house they could see a cluster of people gathered on the porch. They stopped talking abruptly and Cassidy and Lochie came to a halt a few feet away. Cassidy could feel her stomach roiling at the looks on their faces. Andrea was staring fixedly at the ground and Carol looked paler than ever. Rick was the one who finally spoke.

Cassidy stopped listening long before Rick had finished explaining. Her gaze locked onto Andrea and didn't move. When the blonde finally lifted her chin the disgust and anger flashing in those green orbs, suddenly as hard as chips of jewels, punched through her with the force of a bullet and she flinched back. Cassidy didn't speak. She couldn't find the use of her tongue beneath the horror that had swelled in her belly. It was Lochie who asked all the right questions.

When she heard that he was alive, Cassidy almost swayed in relief but Lochie's hand was firm on her elbow until she'd steadied herself. She had been avoiding examining her feelings for the grumpy redneck but now this…

She wheeled away from them and walked away towards the trees. Her head was whirling and her heart was pounding so hard it actually hurt. She could hear someone behind her, calling for her to come back. She knew Lochie wouldn't have followed, she knew better. She couldn't cope with Rick right now. She needed to be alone to sift through the torrent of emotions that had formed a solid ball heavy in her chest. Rick would be there with sympathy and understanding in his warm dark eyes and she just couldn't cope with that right now. She'd probably end up taking his head off.

She stopped besides a relatively wide firm old tree and swung herself up into the branches. She kept climbing until she was about halfway up where she settled into a knot of branches. Through the branches she saw Rick come to a halt beneath her, turning slowly as he looked for her. After a while he went away.

She didn't really think about how long she stayed out there, her mind was on other things. It was almost sundown when she finally uncoiled her stiff sore legs and started her descent. She managed to completely avoid meeting anyone until she came to the room where Daryl was staying. Hershel was closing the door, his hands full with a bowl of bloodied water and a pile of used bandages. He looked at her from under his grizzled eyebrows but didn't comment, nodding politely and continuing on his way.

Daryl looked more vulnerable than she'd ever seen him in the big old-fashioned wooden bed. He was glaring moodily at the wall, blankets up to his chin and his injured shoulder swathed in bandages. He looked so thoroughly grumpy and annoyed that she laughed before she could stop herself.

"I don't need no more bandages, old man. You gussied me up so tight if I fell off the bed, I'd bounce."

"Now that's gratitude." Cassidy said from the doorway.

He squinted in her direction.

"That you, Red?" He let out an irritable grunt. "If you're going to stand around, at least come in where I can see ya."

Cassidy stepped into the room and closed the door behind her. She felt suddenly sick. He'd levered himself up against the pillows and she winced at the mess he'd made of himself.

"You idiot." She said brutally.

"Hell, Red." He said in surprise. "Anyone'd think you actually care."

For a brief horrifying moment she thought she might cry but she managed to quash the impulse.

"Idiot." She repeated.

"I didn't shoot myself." He pointed out defensively.

"No, that useless blonde did. That's the problem nowadays, the tourists get hold of guns when they don't know a firing pin from their elbows. Stupid bitch could have at least shot herself. Saved the rest of us the trouble."

"Aw, Red. I'm gettin' all teary over here."

He sounded anything but, in fact he sounded thoroughly amused.

"Does it hurt?"

"Bit."

"Good. Fucking moron."

"Somethin' on your mind there, Red?"

"Why do you never call me Cassidy?" She asked suddenly.

He gave her a long level look that made her want to squirm. His blue eyes were surprisingly piercing.

"If I'm goin' to call you by your name, it's gonna be your real name."

She glared at him. Even Lochie didn't know her real name. Of course nowadays it hardly mattered, they weren't about to type her name into Google and download her whole life or anything.

"While ya here you might as well be useful."

"Excuse me?"

He glowered at her.

"Get your scrawny ass over here, I ain't gonna attack you in my condition, am I?"

"I wouldn't put anything past you, Dixon."

He smirked at her as she crossed the room towards him obediently.

"I got an itch."

"Fuck you." She snapped.

He lifted his eyebrows at her with such an annoying look on his face that she contemplated slapping him. He indicated the shoulder-blade that wasn't covered in bandages, a spot he couldn't quite reach with his good arm. She rolled her eyes but leant over him just the same and scratched the spot he'd indicated. He grunted with pleasure. Cassidy tried not to look at him too closely, suddenly aware of how close they were.

He stared straight ahead. He could see her collarbone directly in front of him, the thin silver chain of a necklace disappearing under her vest. Her hair was slipping over her shoulder towards him. He could smell the sharp tang of the apple-scented shampoo she'd used and the heat of the sun still on her skin. He could see her pulse flickering in the hollow of her throat. He wondered what she'd do if he pressed his lips against that spot, if he tasted the sweat from the sticky weather beading there with his tongue.

"Better?" She asked, snapping him back to the present.

He nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Her hand lingered on his bare shoulder, massaging and kneading the tense muscles. Without warning, she kissed him. His uninjured arm lifted immediately and his hand went to her throat, his rough palm caressing her jawline. She was aware enough not to lean her full weight against his injured shoulder. She was enticingly light against him, the gentle pressure of her thigh alongside his, her hands touching his bare chest and her mouth against his as she leant over him, just enough to make his skin burn. It wasn't the most comfortable position to be in but when he tried to pull her closer, she broke away.

"No." She was breathless but firm. "You'll bust your stitches."

"I don't give a fuck." He snarled mutinously.

"I do." Stunned by the admission, he fell silent. "You should rest."

"After that, you expect me to rest?" He demanded, slightly peevishly.

"I expect you to do as you're told, like a good little patient."

"Fuck that. Come back here."

"Nice bedside manner."

"I'm the patient! You're supposed to have the bedside manner. You're supposed to take care of me."

"Oh? In a nurse's outfit preferably? Should I lovingly mop your brow and whisper encouraging words and offer you a bed-bath?"

"Well, if you're offering…"

"Maybe when you've healed a bit."

"I'm keeping a list of all these 'maybes' you know."

"Let me know how that goes, won't you?"

"You tease!"

"What are you doing? You're going to give yourself another injury, you stupid redneck. Lie back down!"

"You first."

"In your condition, I highly doubt you'd be much use."

"Want to bet? I'll show you something that'll wipe that grin off ya face."

"I bet, it's hard to laugh and grin at the same time."

Rick paused when he saw Lochie and Glenn bent double with giggles outside Daryl's room. He was about to ask them what was so funny about the situation when the sound of raised voices reached him.

"What're you going to do, glare me into submission? You're not nearly as scary as you think you are, Dixon."

"I'll show you scary, you stubborn witch."

"You threatening to show me what's under these blankets again?"

"I thought he was supposed to be resting?" Rick asked in alarm as Lochie and Glenn moved away from the door to join him. "Should I-"

"No." Lochie touched his arm to stop him from entering the room. "Leave them to it. It beats him brooding and sulking in the dark like he was before. And trust me, you'd rather have Cassidy taking it out on him than on you."

"Taking what out on him?" Glenn asked, his brow wrinkled in confusion as he scratched under his ball cap.

Lochie just looked at him in exasperation and then sighed. They could hear her muttering about the stupidity of men and idiotic stubborn bints all the way down the hallway.

They seemed to have argued themselves out, or maybe the blood loss had finally kicked in, because one minute Daryl had been brooding and the next he'd fallen asleep. He looked peaceful and innocent. She should probably have left but she couldn't seem to gather the motivation. She settled down in the uncomfortable hard-backed wooden chair near the window. It was stiflingly hot in the little room and her long day in the uncomfortable tree must have worn her out more than she'd expected because the next thing she knew she had a crick in her neck and she was sliding out of her chair.

She pulled herself up and stretched. It was dark outside and her stomach was rumbling with hunger. She must have been asleep for a while. She glanced at Daryl but he was perfectly still. Her heart lurched and she held her breath. Eventually she recognised the steady rising of his chest in the bed and she could hear his even breathing. She let out a sigh of relief.

"Are you watching me sleep?"

She could feel her cheeks burning and she was immensely glad that it was still so dark in the room.

"Hardly. I was making sure you were still breathing." She snapped, searching the small bedside table for matches to light the lamp with. "You look the type to drop dead from a daft injury."

"I was shot." He protested irritably, struggling to wriggle into a sitting position.

"In the shoulder." Cassidy said dismissively, finally succeeding in lighting the lamp.

He squinted in the sudden glare.

"You were worried enough to stay here all night."

She snorted, making sure the blinds were drawn to block out the light.

"I fell asleep."

"Uh huh."

She opened her mouth to retort but the sight of blood made her pause. She hurried to the bed and yanked him further into the light.

"Ow." He said reproachfully.

"You must have rolled on your shoulder in your sleep." She determined once she'd thoroughly checked over his wound and the bandages. "You can't even sleep without causing yourself some damage."

His protests turned to curses as she started to unravel his bandages. She poked and prodded his wound until he was sure she was doing it on purpose.

"Stop squirming." She ordered. "Big baby."

She left him grumbling to go and get some clean water and fresh bandages. Maggie was in the kitchen, staring out of the window intently. Cassidy was alert immediately but then the brunette smiled sheepishly and turned towards her. Cassidy quite liked Maggie, she didn't pretend to care about her feelings and she didn't force awkward conversation onto her. There was a grudging respect between the two of them. Maggie showed her where Hershel kept his supplies and provided her with a bowl of lukewarm water.

When she got back to the room Daryl was prodding his wound experimentally.

"Don't touch it." She tutted, slapping his hand away. "God knows what's on your fingers."

He grumbled under his breath but obediently kept still as she cleaned the wound and re-bandaged his shoulder. She tried not to think about how fast her heart was racing at the close contact. The bed really was quite a bit smaller than it looked. His leg was firm underneath her and his skin was warm beneath her hands. It took her a moment to realise that his hand was on her thigh. Her bare thigh.

"I told you to behave until you've recovered. You've lost a lot of blood." She said reproachfully, although she didn't remove his hand.

"Sure doesn't feel like it." He muttered, shifting slightly beneath the sheets. "I'm bored." He complained. "I need entertaining. Maybe if you-"

"I'm not stripping."

"I'm injured."

"You will be if you keep on."

"What's that?"

She followed his gaze. Her vest had ridden down when she stretched to put the bowl of water on the floor and exposed a small tattoo over her heart. Daryl squinted at the tiny black lines inked on her sun-bronzed flesh. He'd never noticed it before. Of course he'd never been this close to her before. It was still slightly dark in the room and he cocked his head for a better look.

"It's a bird." He hazarded, wondering if he could get a better look without risking a punch to the kidneys.

"It's an albatross." She corrected quietly, pulling her top back up to cover the tattoo.

Her voice was quite expressionless, as he imagined her face must be. She'd turned away from him and he could only see the bare expanse of her back in the slim top, the smooth sweep where her shoulders became her long neck and her plait trailing down her spine.

"In the poem an albatross is a good luck charm, until it's killed. Then it becomes a death omen to its killers." There was a long pause. When she continued, her voice was very precise. "It represents my sister."

Daryl remained silent, trying to work out how such a morbid tale could relate to something as essential to your being as your own blood sibling. He hesitated. This was not his strong point.

"Is she-"

"She killed herself, ten years ago." Cassidy interrupted bluntly, her voice as sharp as a knife.

Daryl could sense that there was much more to the story behind that tattoo but he couldn't find the right words to ask. He was slightly amazed at how curious he was. Maybe it was because she was so impenetrable, a steel wall who clamped her emotions away where they could do no damage. He wasn't entirely sure what had triggered this sudden outburst of soul-baring but he knew that this was as close to intimacy as she ever got. This was her version of weakness, she was exposing herself to him, just a crack… just enough to show him a glimpse of who she really was.

She got up from the edge of the bed. As far as she was concerned the ball was in his court now, she'd made her play and now it was his choice how to respond. Daryl knew that if she left the room now, he would not have a chance at this intimacy with her again. What she was offering now was a one time deal.

He was not a man of words. He rarely had the right words to hand and when, like now, he sorely needed them he usually found himself at a complete loss. So he reached out with his uninjured arm and gripped her wrist. She turned slowly without moving any closer to the bed. Her eyes were dark but her chin was tilted defiantly and her jaw was set.

He felt her pulse beating against his fingers, jumping erratically despite her blank face. He gave a little tug and she moved closer.

"You and me ain't done yet, Red."

To his annoyance his voice was slightly hoarse and a flicker of a grin touched her lips. The moment had passed. Her challenge had been accepted. He pulled her closer. Her legs hit the side of the bed but she didn't flinch. They waited each other out in tense silence. One more tug and she'd either have to pull away or join him on the bed.

She'd decided to keep her distance until he had healed and she'd figured herself out but her resolve was rapidly weakening. He was peering intently at her with those brilliant blue eyes. He looked sore and bruised and exhausted but there was no doubt in his eyes, no flicker of uncertainty. He was pale beneath the stubble but his stubborn smirk was firmly in place. She lowered herself onto the bed finally, straddling him gently to avoid jerking his shoulder around too much. If he was surprised at the sudden yielding in their ongoing battle of wills, he didn't show it. His hands tangled roughly in her hair as he yanked her against him. Taken by surprise she didn't lift her hands in time to steady herself and her arm whacked into his bullet wound. She felt his stomach contract in pain beneath her, his breath suddenly drawn in against her lips. He did not stop his assault on her mouth though. She wrapped her arms around his neck, helping him gain leverage in his wounded state. His mouth worked feverishly against hers, his tongue exploring as his hands roamed down her shoulders and her back. He'd been right about the blood loss, it really hadn't effected the important parts of his anatomy. She felt his hands moving under her top, stroking and caressing her bare skin until she was quivering.

"Hey, Daryl-"

The door flew open revealing Glenn, he had a notepad in his hand and a bemused expression on his face which rapidly became horror. He appeared to be not only speechless, but rooted to the spot in shock. Lochie appeared behind him with a grin so wide it must have actually hurt. She eyed the two of them.

"Fuck off!" Daryl howled.

Had he been able to reach anything remotely heavy he would have tossed it at them in his frustration. Cassidy slid down from his lap. He glared at her.

"You're leaving?"

She hadn't actually realised how far he'd got in undressing her; her top was rucked right up so he could finally see the tattoo along her side; it was designed to look like an open zipper exposing a riot of tiny butterflies and flowers mixed in with skulls and impossibly small weapons extending from under her bra to just under her ribs, unbelievably small and delicate but it must have hurt like hell, and her jeans were unbuttoned revealing sexy red lace underwear.

"I think we should postpone this."

She buttoned up her jeans before she could change her mind.

"Why?"

As she was pulling her top back into place, Shane and Rick appeared behind Glenn and Lochie, halting mid-conversation at the sight before them.

"I'm not into an audience." She snapped, crossing the room and slamming the door on them all. "I just think that taking advantage of a guy who probably has concussion and who nearly bled to death a few hours ago, isn't really in my best interest right now."

He continued to look at her. She moved back towards him, leaning over him. Whatever comments he'd been about to make vanished when he realised that he could see right down her vest from this vantage point, and that her lips were against his ear doing something quite extraordinary. It took him a moment to focus on the words causing the warm breath against his cheek.

"Don't worry, you're on a promise, redneck."

She slipped out of his reach before he could grab her.

"But I'm not into sympathy sex. And I will not be doing all the work." She looked at him over her shoulder as she reached the door. Her hair was rumpled where he'd run his fingers through it and her lips were swollen and bruised from kissing. "Besides, you passing out on me halfway through would not do anything for my self-esteem."

Chachi94 – thanks very much, hope you like this chapter too

gurl3677 – thanks, that's almost exactly how I'd react under those circumstances, although I'd do a lot more screaming

SaraLostInes – honestly Lochie is influenced a lot by Kenzie from Lost Girl. Ksenia Solo is amazing I love her.

Grim1989 – thank you, here's the next chapter for you