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

I haven't decided what I'm going to do between seasons yet, I think I'll keep it going but I'm going to have to be very careful. We'll just see how it pans out after I've seen the finale.

Rain

Chapter Thirteen

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

"How do you think it's going?"

Cassidy flicked a glance at the house in the distance. They were having 'the big meeting' to decide about Randall. Like sitting there talking about it was going to change a thing. They had been asked to attend by Dale and both refused. Lochie because she couldn't make her own mind up and Cassidy because she didn't see the point.

"Lochie. I want to talk to you."

Lochie's grin slipped when she saw the serious look on Cassidy's face. She finished folding the shirt in her lap and put it to one side. They were completely alone, everyone was up at the house. Cassidy settled down cross-legged on the grass opposite her since her leg was still tender.

"You're not pregnant, are you?" She asked in an 'I'm joking but not really joking' voice.

"Of course not." Cassidy gave her a sharp look. "I'm serious here."

"Okay, I'll behave." Lochie managed to straighten out her expression, seized by the sudden urge to giggle with nerves.

"Now. Don't freak out-"

"Oh my God you've been bitten!" Lochie practically shrieked and Cassidy hurriedly clapped a hand over her mouth.

"Don't be so stupid." Cassidy snapped. "I'm trying to have a serious conversation so keep it zipped will you." Lochie nodded. "Okay. I want to know what you'd think about leaving."

"I don't want to." Lochie said immediately, almost before she'd finished speaking. "I like it here."

Cassidy lifted a disbelieving eyebrow.

"Well I like the people." Lochie replied defensively. "And I know you like at least two of them."

"I'm not talking about leaving because I don't like them, I'm talking about survival."

Lochie glowered at her through watery eyes.

"Why would you want to leave?" She asked in the sulky tone of a teenager being told they were being punished for something they hardly thought was a crime.

"Don't be a child about this, Lochie. I'm hardly going to make you leave for no reason."

"So explain your reasoning." She said coolly, folding her arms mutinously.

"Lochie, they have a guy handcuffed in the barn. The barn recently vacated by a whole bushel full of walkers."

"So?"

"So while they're discussing whether to redefine this country's stance on the death penalty, Shane's busy bouncing off the walls, Dale's having a moral crisis and Daryl-" She broke off before she could quite get the words out.

"Different States have different stances on the death penalty." Lochie said flatly.

"Funnily enough I don't think it matters very much anymore."

Lochie glowered.

"Is this about Daryl kicking seven shades of shit out of that guy?" Lochie asked bluntly. "I didn't think you'd have a problem with that."

"It's nothing to do with that." Cassidy said tightly, although it kind of was. It wasn't that Daryl had beat up a scumbag, it was the casual way they had accepted what he'd done. The group was changing into something dangerous, literally quite willing to sacrifice someone else for their survival. Usually that wouldn't have bothered her, but they were lining each other up for the slaughter and she wasn't about to be next. Dale was right but he was worried about the wrong thing, it was only a matter of time before they turned on each other.

"I don't want to leave." Lochie said firmly, even if her lip trembled slightly. "And I don't think you want to either." She reached out and took Cassidy's hands in hers. "I don't know what goes on between you two… despite the rather revealing soundtrack paper thin tent walls manage to provide, but I know it's not what you thought it would be."

Cassidy opened her mouth to deny it but Lochie squeezed her hands and leaned even closer, her bright grey eyes fixed intently on Cassidy's.

"I'm not saying you're having some great romance or anything, or you're going to run off and live happily ever after, but the pair of you seem to fill some sort of hole for each other. It's gross." She frowned. "It probably won't end pretty either but whatever. Running away isn't going to solve anything."

Cassidy rolled her eyes.

"Am I convincing you?" Lochie asked and Cassidy laughed.

"Not really."

"You couldn't leave him, you know." Lochie said quietly, fixing her with a surprisingly steely gaze.

"Yes I could, Lochie. And he could leave me too." Cassidy said sadly.

That was how she knew he cared. And probably what would get them both killed.

She'd been staring up at the ugly green roof of her tent for at least six hours. She knew that because she'd watched the shadows shifting as the sun began to rise. While she hadn't spoken more than a few polite words to Dale since they were first introduced, Daryl had been deeply affected by what had happened, what he'd done. He wouldn't say that of course. He'd disappeared straight to his tent without a word to anyone after they'd transported the body back to the house to be buried. Glenn had told them what had happened with a dazed look on his face and then he too had retreated to deal with his grief.

At first she'd tried to avoid it, the nagging thorn digging into her belly, but eventually she couldn't stand it any longer. Sleep was completely ignoring her and Lochie had long since fallen into a glum doze. She crawled out of the tent silently. It was chilly in the last few minutes before dawn and she shivered in her jogging bottoms and wife-beater. She slipped on her boots and headed for his tent.

He was deeply asleep, he didn't even stir when she unzipped the flap. She kicked off her boots and lay down besides him. He'd discarded his clothes in a rumpled pile still splattered with blood. Rather than looking peaceful in repose, his face was guarded and a frown creased his brow. He was curled on one side, one arm cushioned under his head and his other hand splayed on the sleeping bag between them.

It made her heart sink that just lying here was making her feel calmer. She watched him for a while; the steady rising and falling of his chest, the way his growing hair had started to curl into his neck and slip over his forehead, his long feathery lashes fanning over his sculpted cheekbones and fluttering as he dreamed. The lustrous lower lip pulled down in a frown. She edged a little closer until there was barely an inch between them. Somewhere along the way he'd become as necessary for her existence as oxygen. She'd somehow become as aware of him as any of her limbs and the thought of not seeing him every day cut straight down to the bone. But how could they stay? Daryl was right, the group was broken. It was fractured. The trust was fading and things were only going to get worse. She was an outsider, they would never trust her entirely and eventually that mistrust would become suspicion and that would never end pretty.

Since her sister had died she had steadily built a sturdy impenetrable wall between her emotions and the rest of the world. She was cowering behind that wall now. She was caught between the common sense of reality and the dark arrow of poison that leaving him would plunge into her chest. She had done things that she hadn't wanted to do before, dark things, but none of them had made her feel this way. She felt young and vulnerable and lost. For the first time in a long she wanted her mother to hug her and tell her it would all be alright.

He had stirred while she had been thinking her miserable thoughts, roused by some inner survival mechanism that told him someone had invaded his territory. He didn't look surprised to find her in his tent, mirroring his position opposite him on the bumpy floor of his small tent. He was surprised at the tears trickling into the hair at her temple and dripping over her nose though. Something told him they weren't for Dale.

"Would you miss me if I left?"

Usually there was a teasing lilt to her voice and a sparkle in her eyes when she asked him such questions, but she looked drawn and serious.

"You goin' somewhere, Red?"

Another tear trickled down her cheek and she swiped at it irritably with the back of her hand.

"What if I did?" She whispered, moving in closer until her hot tearstained cheek pressed against the fingers of his hand resting on the sleeping bag.

"Why would you do that?" He asked gruffly.

"Survival, redneck." She replied with a flicker of her usual smirk. "That's the name of the game, isn't it?"

"You look like ya survivin' to me." He pointed out, flicking a brief hot glance over the swell of her hip.

"Yeah, and Randall thought he'd survived when they peeled him off that iron spike."

Daryl blinked and his face blackened slightly. His knuckles were still bruised and torn from the interrogation hours earlier.

"That's different. That ain't got nothin' to do with us." He growled firmly.

"Which us?" She challenged quietly. "Your group. Or this us."

She gestured between the two of them and he frowned, withdrawing his hand and rolling onto his back.

"There is a difference." She insisted, staring hard at his rigid profile. "You know there is. We're not one of you and eventually that's going to become an issue."

He huffed impatiently at her. He didn't see the point in potential what ifs and usually she would never discuss them with him.

"We're going to move into the house for the winter." He said grouchily, still not looking at her.

"That your solution, Dixon? You're asking me to move in with you?" She snorted despite herself.

"Don't be so fucking stupid." He snapped and she laughed.

"About the moving in or the leaving?"

"Both."

"You really think moving into that creepy old shack will make everything better?" She asked doubtfully.

He gave her a sidelong look and she sighed, reaching out for him. She hadn't decided whether to stay or not, but there was nothing quite as gloriously distracting as a naked Daryl Dixon.

Daryl could tell that she wasn't there when he woke up without opening his eyes. The tent had a different quality when she was in it. He rolled over warily, blinking when he was confronted with a red smear on his chest. He sat up. While he'd been sleeping she'd managed to find a truly hideous shade of pinky red lipstick and scrawl a note on the floor of his tent not covered by various layers of dirty clothes.

Don't worry redneck, I've not left for good.

I'll be back once I've found somewhere we can run to if we need to.

A girl should always have a bolt hole in any relationship.

Even in an apocalypse.

I've left you something to remember me by, DO NOT trade it for ammo.

When I get back I expect it to be in one piece.

- J

Daryl scrubbed his hands over his face tiredly. He'd expected to feel some of the blazing anger he'd felt when she'd disappeared with Shane but he only felt gloomy, as if he'd misplaced his favourite boots. It wasn't that he didn't have other boots, but none of them fit his feet quite the same way. He squinted. Was that what she'd left him? It was a thin black leather band that she'd always worn around her slender ankle. He'd never asked her about it but he assumed it meant something to her since she kept it. She'd wrapped it around his wrist while he was sleeping. He was still glaring at it when the flap of his tent was thrust rudely open. He wasn't exactly bashful but he did hurriedly yank the sleeping bag over his nudity as Lochie burst into his tent. She had a torn piece of paper in her hand and her face was white.

Her eyes raced over every inch of the tent as if she expected Cassidy to pop up from behind something. Her face crumpled in on itself when no sarcastic redhead appeared and Daryl braced himself for some noisy tears. Her chin did wobble but she seemed to reel herself back in and she straightened up.

"Oh." She said morosely. "Well." She flipped her rumpled hair over her shoulder and hooked one finger into the bright red ribbon tied in a loose bow around her neck. "I suppose you know what this is supposed to mean?"

LadyLecter47 – well I don't need spoilers for the finale because I had to go online and find out what happened so I know Daryl doesn't die. I have to say I'm disappointed, I thought they would clear out all the annoying characters. Hope you like.

undeadangel – thanks, you learn something new every day :)

eloquent dreams – I know poor Daryl :(

SharonH – I'm not sure what I'm going to do in between seasons, if I take it too far I could get stuck in a corner when the new season starts. I think I'll be adding more Lochie/Rick, definitely.

vexingvixen7 – well anyone is better at looking after Carl than Lori. All she has to do nowadays is look after her son and she seems to lose him a whole lot. Useless bint. Well they're not going to make it easy for each other, stubborn characters are the best :D

Lady-Isowen – thanks

Dalonega Noquisi – oooo I like it lol hope you like this update too :)