DISCLAIMER: I do not own any part of The Walking Dead. This is for entertainment purposes only.

A/N: I'm beginning to feel like I ramble way too much. These chapters are becoming longer and longer without me even realizing it. Oh well… Hopefully y'all enjoy it.

Temporary Home.

When Daryl came to, it took him a moment to realize where he was and what had happened. He was lying on his back staring up at a white ceiling. His left side throbbed immensely and he could feel a burning pain near his left temple.

"Daryl?—Daryl?"

Daryl recognized the voice to be Rick's as he glanced over at him. He was on his knees next to the side of the bed Daryl was laying on. When his eyes met his, Rick looked relieved. Even though Daryl was finally able to recall everything—impaling himself on a bolt, getting shot by Andrea, Rick and Shane dragging him back to Hershel's place—he was still confused by the look Rick was giving him. Was he worried about him?...

"Good, you're awake. You mind rolling to your side. I'll be able to stitch your wound better. Or should I say wounds…"

Daryl noticed Hershel was standing by his left side. He didn't say anymore and Daryl wasn't much in the mood to argue or deny the help so he listened to the old man, doing what he was told. The movement sent some shooting pains threw his side as he bit the inside of his cheek unnoticed. It wasn't until then that he noticed he didn't have a shirt on.

"What the hell's this? Where's my shirt?" Daryl shot a glare in Rick's direction since he was conveniently straight ahead of him now. He would have snapped at Hershel beings that he was the one doing the medical work, but he didn't want to move anymore than he had to at the moment.

"I cut what was left of your shirt off so that I could access your wounds. Please don't tell me you're upset over a shirt?" Hershel's voice was heavy enough with sarcasm that Daryl didn't need to see his face to read it. He wasn't sure if he should take that as an insult or a joke.

"Whatever…" Daryl muttered, closing his eyes.

"Hey, Daryl?" Rick's voice hit him again. Could he not see that he had just closed his eyes?

"What?" Daryl grumbled, opening one of his eyes to look back at the man.

"I was hoping you might be up for talking," Rick started. "You found Sophia's doll?"

Daryl opened both of his eyes now and stared back at Rick, trying to read his face. He still looked concerned and he was still on his knees leaning against the bed. But Rick scooped down for a moment, picking something up off the floor and sprawling it out across the bed. It was a map of the surrounding area—the same map they had been using to try and mark the places they had already searched.

"Found it washed up in the creek bed about there," Daryl pointed to a place, instantly recognizing the direction and layout of the map in front of him at a half awkward angle. "Figured she had to be close but didn't see any other sign of her."

"Are you sure it was there exactly?" Rick rested his finger on the place Daryl had just pointed out. Now that Daryl took to offense. Rick was either trying to imply he didn't know what the hell he was talking about when it came to maps or he was questioning his well-being after everything he'd been through in just the past few hours.

Daryl was about to come back with a sarcastic, somewhat witty, remark to that before he felt a sharp prick in his left side. He slightly flinched and bit his tongue to hold back a cuss word or two. Hershel had been cleaning the wound up until then. Now he was apparently beginning to stitch it up, the cold needle piercing through his skin unexpectedly.

"Try to hold still. And while you're at it, hold this to your temple and keep pressure on it. It'll stop the bleeding a bit sooner. I'll get around to it once I finish with your side."

"Awfully demanding, don't ya think?" Daryl meant it more as a joke as he grabbed the white washcloth from Hershel's hand that dangled in front of his face. So much for it being white—it certainly wasn't going to be the same color afterwards. "And a warning next time would be nice."

"Figured if you were busy talking to Rick, you wouldn't even notice," Hershel replied. Daryl could feel him begin to work on the stitches once again as he pressed the washcloth to his temple. He couldn't help but slightly twitch at the pain he was feeling in his side and head simultaneously.

"So, let me get this straight. You're saying there was no sign of her other than that doll?"

Daryl just now noticed Shane was sitting in a chair against the wall, a little ways behind Rick and off to the side. Had he been there the whole time, and how in the hell had he not seen him until now? Maybe he was more out of it than he thought. Maybe Rick did have a reason to double check on the map situation.

"Couldn't find no tracks or anything. But she could have walked down the stream itself," Daryl replied.

"Or that doll could have just gone down the stream by itself and you have no idea what you're talking about. The fact that you found it doesn't make the grid any smaller." Shane leaned forward onto his knees and ran a hand over the short stubble of hair on his head.

Daryl shook his head as he recalled exactly how he found it. "No, it was on top of a fallen tree. Like it had been placed there. That's no coincidence." He let the snide remark from Shane slide.

Rick nodded, "So that does give us a smaller grid to work with then." Rick glanced back at Shane at his words before turning back to face Daryl. "I'll be sure to pass the word along to the others. We'll get the search under way and start planning things out in the meantime."

Daryl gave him a nod in return as he got back to his feet and folded the map back up. Shane got up from the chair as well, both of them obviously getting ready to finally leave.

"How's he doing?" Rick directed the question at Hershel as it felt like he was just finishing up on the entry wound through his back.

"Not too bad. No telling what kind of damage is done internally…" Hershel paused. "I had no idea we'd be going through the antibiotics this quickly. It's a wonder you people are still alive."

Daryl closed his eyes and he couldn't help but smile a little bit at that. Hershel had it spot on. This group was a disaster. First it was the quarry. Then the CDC. Then they lost Sophia, Carl got shot, and T-Dog sliced his arm open on a damn car door. Now Daryl had to add himself to the list with his injuries. And Hershel had been the one to help each and every one of them, with Patricia's assistance. The old man was probably sick of them.

"I can't thank you enough for all of your help, Hershel. Just know that I really appreciate it, as well as the others." Rick left the room with Shane as he closed the door behind him.

It was silent for a moment and Daryl was close to drifting off to sleep. He could feel Hershel start to work on the stitching up the exit wound now, but since he was already used to the sharp prick and tug of the thread, it didn't bother him nearly as much. In fact, the only thing that bothered him was when Hershel's hands seemed to brush against his bare skin. He just didn't like to be touched. It always gave him the instinct to just whirl around and throw a punch in defense. It was probably a good thing he was well conscious at the time because he couldn't imagine that going over too well if he nailed Hershel in the jaw.

The next thing Daryl knew was that he could feel someone grab a hold of his left hand on his temple, making him jerk his hand back and out of their grasp, his eyes snapping back open. He was still in the same room with the same wallpaper decorated on the walls when he realized it had to have been Hershel.

"Just need to see about the damage done to your temple. You're lucky the bullet just barely grazed you. It could have been a lot worse."

"There's only two ways I'm seeing it," Daryl muttered. The situation I'm currently in, or dead.

Hershel began to wind some gauze around Daryl's head, covering the wound. "Now before you even say anything, because I know you will, it needs to be covered to prevent any sort of infection. This is something I can't stitch myself and it will just need to heal up a bit on its own before I can do anything."

Daryl grinned. Hershel was pretty smart—he knew Daryl was going to protest before he could even start in on it. Still didn't make matters any better having his head mummified.

"Have you seen Leah?" Daryl asked, feeling awkward, as though he were talking to the wall in front of him as he still lay on his right side facing away from Hershel. He would have asked if she knew what happened but he figured that was a stupid question. Of course Leah would have been well aware. The whole damn group must have been well aware.

"The little girl?" Hershel paused. "She's not far. I imagine Maggie and Beth probably have her waiting in the dining room. Same for her mother."

Daryl cringed, "Skyler's her aunt."

"My apologies." Daryl could hear a few clinks of different utensils being thrown into a pan on the bedside table before Hershel continued, "I can send them in now if you'd like."

"Yeah, thanks…" Daryl partially mumbled. He meant to say thank you for taking the time to actually stitch him up but alas, he was never too great with words, thank yous, and apologies. Otherwise, he probably would have apologized for being an inconvenience.

Daryl thought about drifting off again, or rather, just resting his eyes until Leah and Skyler showed up. But he remembered that he didn't have a damn shirt. He managed to sit up a bit and wrestle with the light weight blanket he was laying on before he was able to pull it up and over himself. His freshly stitched side covered with gauze throbbed from the movement but he wasn't about to let Skyler or Leah see him without something covering his scars.

He rolled back over onto his right side to try and ease the pain just as he heard the door to the room open with a slight creak. He didn't hear any footsteps though.

"I'm awake," Daryl declared, letting whoever it was know. He assumed it was Leah and Skyler, and he was right.

Leah stood where he could see her, clutching the necklace around her neck. He forced a smile at her, "Well… I told ya I'd come back."

"You also said you'd be fine," Skyler sat on the edge of the bed. She looked upset—definitely more sad than angry. "How are you doing?"

"Fine," Daryl slightly shrugged with his left shoulder. "How are you two? Leah?"

Leah shrugged, "Okay, I guess. I was worried about you…"

Skyler patted the space next to her on the bed as Leah climbed up beside her. She began to work her hands through her hair as a makeshift hairbrush before she began to separate the long locks of golden brown into sections. She focused solely on Leah's hair as she began to twist the strands into a loose braid over her shoulder.

"You know… Seeing you return covered in blood wasn't exactly the way either of us planned on seeing you. You scared us," Skyler spoke out loud as she continued to braid Leah's hair.

"Wasn't exactly the way I planned on returning either," Daryl responded.

"You should have listened to me. I told you not to go off by yourself."

"Wouldn't a mattered anyway. Still would have happened."

"You don't know that. What would you have done if biters or walkers—whatever you call them—showed up?"

"I was just fine…" Daryl chewed on the inside of his mouth again, recalling the two walkers he'd had a close call with earlier. He had woken up to one chewing on his boot and just barely managed to kill it with a damn stick, giving him enough time to pull the bolt out of his side and shoot the next one. He figured he'd let that bit of information be his little secret.

"You're very stubborn," Leah interrupted their bickering, staring at Daryl.

"Yes, he is. Thank you, Leah," Skyler smiled. "Two against one."

Daryl stuck his tongue out at them as Leah imitated him, giggling.

Skyler didn't stay too long. She claimed she was going to help the others prepare an actual meal for dinner. Daryl couldn't imagine everyone sitting around at a table eating. There were some who didn't get along with others and just way too many people to even try cramming all in one place. Skyler had offered Leah to come along and help but Leah stayed with Daryl, where she was now curled up on the bed beside him sleeping.

It had been at least a few hours since Hershel had fixed him up. He'd stopped by once just to check in before carrying on his way. Rick had also checked in on him too, though he didn't say too much. There was an aroma of food that now hung in the air making Daryl very aware of how hungry he actually was. He hadn't eaten anything since breakfast and that wasn't much. Though he wasn't really hungry until just now, the smell almost teasing him.

There was a light knock on the door just then, making Daryl open his eyes and listen for anymore sounds. He figured it had to be Skyler again—maybe to check in on him and Leah or maybe to tell Leah to go eat. When Daryl thought about it, it was a simple mistake to think that Skyler was her mom… They looked remotely alike and Skyler was always looking out for her.

The door creaked open now as Daryl could hear a couple footsteps lead over to the nightstand next to the bed behind him. He had come to the conclusion it was definitely a woman due to the quietness of the footsteps. He could hear something smooth slide onto the nightstand but he didn't bother to budge.

"Daryl?..." It was Carol's voice that called his name, making him slightly turn to catch a glimpse of her just behind him.

"What?" Daryl situated himself back to laying on his right side, staring at Leah's sleeping form next to him. He certainly wasn't in the mood to talk to her of all people. He told her he was coming back with Sophia and that she'd be fine, which both were lies. He had failed his own words.

"I brought you and Leah some dinner. Skyler said you hadn't eaten yet…" Carol's voice sounded so small. It was almost like she was afraid of him or something, like a mouse trying to make peace with a cat.

"Thanks," Daryl mumbled. He shut his eyes, waiting for her to leave the room.

"I just wanted to apologize for my behavior earlier," Carol's voice trailed off. "I didn't mean to be so angry towards you. I'm sorry for taking it out on you. I know you've been trying to find Sophia… I just feel like all of this is my fault—for pushing you to go look…"

"Ain't your fault. Just my dumb luck. I wanted to go out and look for her, you didn't make me," Daryl replied. "…I know what it feels like."

"I suppose you do," Carol paused. "Thank you for everything you've done. I do appreciate it."

Daryl didn't say another word as he listened for her footsteps to exit the room. He realized that maybe he should have made an effort to turn around and face her while they talked but oh well. The conversation was over now, thankfully.

He turned back to see a tray on the nightstand that held two plates of food and two glasses of water. A part of him couldn't help but wonder who had initially been the one to remember him and Leah.

As he turned back to face Leah once again, he realized he didn't want to wake her up. She looked so peaceful sleeping and it was probably the best she'd slept since the world went to shit. They were lying in an actual bed, not on the cold hard ground outside. But he knew he had to wake her because she needed to eat too.

Daryl carefully brushed her bangs back and out of her face, the tips of his fingers just barely touching her forehead as she stirred awake. He smiled at her as she blinked a few times to refocus her sleepy eyes.

"You need to eat something. Carol brought some food in," Daryl explained. He forced himself to sit up, tossing his pillow behind his back to prop himself up against the headboard. Now would have been a good time to have a shirt…

"Dinner in bed?" Leah sat up, rubbing her eyes.

"I guess so," Daryl shrugged.

Leah crawled off of the bed and ran around to the other side where the food was and passed a plate to Daryl. "Since I know you can't reach it from there and you don't need to be up and moving around."

Daryl smiled, "We'll see how long that lasts."

Leah made her way back around the bed with her own plate and sat up against the headboard beside him. She set the plate in her lap and stabbed the fork into a piece of chicken, picking the piece of meat apart into smaller portions. "I hope we get to stay here. It's really nice having an actual house again. And all of the friendly people."

"Yeah," Daryl agreed with Leah for her sake. He wasn't a big 'people person'. If it were up to him, he'd rather be off on his own with her and Skyler… Though the number of people around them provided safety. "I don't see why we'd ever have to leave. I'm sure Hershel will understand."

"I hope so. Beth and Maggie are awesome. I hung out with them and Carl while you were gone," Leah admitted. "All else fails, I'll sweet talk Hershel into letting us stay."

Daryl almost choked on his food at that comment. "Sweet talk? Do I need to have a word with Beth or Maggie? 'Cuz I highly doubt you got that from Carl."

Leah laughed, "No! I'm just saying! I really want to stay here and maybe if I could convince him—"

"Let's just drop it. And no more 'sweet talk'. Everything'll work out." Daryl couldn't help but smile a bit.

After they both finished eating and Leah volunteered to run the plates to the kitchen, Daryl laid back down on his right side. He tucked the pillow back under his head and sighed, shutting his eyes. The pain in his side was beginning to flare up again, which he guessed had to be from moving the little bit that he did. If this was how it was going to be for a while he felt like he was going to go insane. He couldn't stand not being able to get up on his own freewill and just do something. There was no way he was going to rely on anyone to help him—not now, not ever.

"Do you want me to get Hershel?"

Daryl snapped his eyes open to see Leah standing in front of him beside the bed. Damn, she was quiet. He didn't even hear her come back into the room. "…What?"

"You looked like you were in pain," Leah bit her lip, slightly frowning.

Daryl shook his head, "I'm fine."

"Stubborn…" Leah muttered, crawling back onto the bed.

"Punk," Daryl reached out and poked her nose, receiving a small giggle.

Leah had curled up next to him and that was the last thing he remembered. The pain and exhaustion had finally caught up with him as he drifted off to sleep.