Surplus Imagination - You're very welcome. Though to be honest, I should be the one thanking you for reviewing. I really do appreciate when people take the time to let me know that my story isn't crap. So thanks. ^_^ And no, to my knowledge the Lieutenant isn't based on anyone in particular. Does he remind you of someone?
LL - Haha, I like that you've cast the Lieutenant in your mind! It amuses me!
KrisAnthemum221 - In the office...someone needs to be working I think. ^_^ (I keed!) Thanks for the review!
Axelrocks - I agree with everything you said and more. I enjoy your reviews because they're fun and thorough! Thanks!
ldyjaydin - I hate unfinished stories, I try to finish them because of this. So have no fear, it may take me a while, but this story will get finished.
lokislady - Thanks for your review! I'm going to try to keep the quality of writing up to standard!
Guest - Ugh, summaries and titles are the worst...
MarionArnold - I have another chapter from Merle's POV coming up soonish, I think I can swing a request from you (since you review this story so kindly and all). ^_^
Selbyzipper - I'm so glad to hear that Merle and Daryl are in character, I try very hard to keep them that way, but sometimes I worry about whether or not they are. It's good to know this. Thanks.
laura - Thanks for your review. Good to hear that it's loved.
Violeta27 - Teehee, tetchy is a beautiful word to describe him.
Lilone1776 - I do have a scene coming up where Daryl (once he gets a chance to breathe) has a little meeting with the girl. It's nice that you mentioned that, however, because if I didn't I'm always willing to give my reviewer's what they want (within reason). Thanks for your review!
Goodness, thanks ever so to all the reviewers. I apologize if thanking them makes this first part super long, but they took the time to read and review my work and deserve acknowledgement. I am utterly grateful for the love you people give this story. You have no idea.
Chapter Eight: Pischouette
**Daryl**
They had picked up the trail from the prison in silence, moving through the tall grass carefully, mindful of the fact that anywhere inside the thick blades of grass could lurk something that would chomp and infect their asses.
Daryl moved swiftly, one eye on the trail left in the bent grass, the other on the world around him, he barely paid the man behind him any heed.
The soldier boy for his part was quiet, moving with precision training through the grass, senses alert.
As the trail in the grass broke into the woods, Daryl paused to adjust himself from tracking bent grass to shifted leaves and snapped twigs in the underbrush. It wasn't as obvious as the grass, the trail wasn't all that fresh, but it was still there.
If Carol headed this way, then he knew she'd be heading deeper into the woods, avoiding the highway at all costs in case the Governor had patrols out looking for them.
He turned sharply and headed East, following the creek there.
As they walked along the creek, he noticed the trail had an interesting drag pattern to it. Herschel has been this way as well, his crutch leaving a fast paced drag to the left of the trail.
At least Carol wasn't alone with Judith.
Pausing at a log in the middle of the trail, Daryl knelt to eye the bark, looking for signs of them struggling over it.
Sure enough bark had been torn off it, and the very faint outline of a boot was imprinted on it.
Hopping over the log, he moved on, stepping beside the footprints in case he needed to double back and follow the trail again.
The Lieutenant did the same, quietly moving behind him.
A snapping, crashing sound came from the south, something moving through the woods without any hesitation, had the two of them hunkering down, tensing for a fight.
A decayed princess staggered out of the underbrush, her pretty wedding dress covered in blood from where a walker had gnawed on her upper arm.
She moved towards them with her teeth snapping for their flesh.
Daryl took aim and shot her down, before he realized she wasn't alone.
Another thing came out from the woods, lumbering towards them.
He dropped his crossbow and lunged forward with his borrowed knife, catching the walker under the chin, shoving the blade up through his tongue and palate into the brain.
The Lieutenant meanwhile took out a third who was about to knock into Daryl from the right, launching himself at it, tackling the dead thing to the ground and shoving a small kitchen knife through it's temple.
They quickly looked around, before pushing to their feet.
"Think there's any more of them around?" The Lieutenant asked.
Daryl nodded, cautiously studying their surroundings. "They move in herds, could be. Sisters know you stole a knife from the kitchen?"
The Lieutenant smirked. "I'm probably going to hell anyways, why not add stealing to the list? Wish it were something more worth the trip to Hades though...a car or a head in a jar or something..."
Ignoring the weird fucking Cajun, Daryl motioned back to the trail.
After the attack, they moved slower, more aware of the woods around them.
It felt like they had been travelling for months, before the trail began to waver, someone had split off from the trail and the others seemed to get jumbled up at that point, the tracks intermingling and bunching up.
Not sure which trail to follow, Daryl stopped and glanced around.
"Someone broke off," he muttered more to himself than the Lieutenant. Still, he glanced behind him at the soldier. "Headed towards the creek, the others just sort of stood their ground."
"Uggie attack?"
He nodded. "Could be. Come on, they head in the same direction, may as well follow the group trail."
Heading North, closer to the creek, they paused when they hit the water.
Jesus, Carol, he thought, don't take to the water, girl. Can't follow you through it.
Thankfully, he spied tracks emerging from the creek on the same side a few yards down and hurried over to them.
There were three distinct tracks, he knew two of them were Carol's and Herschel's the third he was guessing was Beth's. She didn't go far from Herschel's side.
The tracks moved off, heading East again, moving along the soft, muddy shores of the creek bed. This was fine, easier to track muddy footprints then snapped twigs, it would speed up their trek.
..-~-..
..-~-..
By the time evening was upon them, they came across an old hunting cabin in the middle of the woods.
Peering at it through the thick of the underbrush, Daryl spied about twenty walkers milling about outside, a few scattered dead around it. Someone was in the cabin, he just knew it. The walkers wouldn't be lingering unless they could still smell or sense something living. The fact that they weren't beating on the door was disturbing to him, however. If the walkers sensed living flesh, they wouldn't stop at anything until they got at it, them milling around aimlessly, wasn't a good sign.
Nervously casting a glance over his shoulder to ensure none were creeping up on him, he motioned to the Lieutenant to head up into a nearby tree, holding his curled hand to his eye in a military gesture Rick had taught him over the winter when the group was training to work better together. He wanted the Lieutenant to do what he did best and snipe off the walkers.
The Lieutenant gave him the okay and scurried up the tree like a squirrel with his Browning and the duct taped scope that was worth more than the damned rifle itself.
Gripping the combat knife in his hand, Daryl prepared to attack. He wasn't sure he could take twenty or however many more there may be lingering nearby, but he wasn't any better prepared, so he figured he may as well die trying.
Looking up into the tree, he caught the Lieutenant's eye and nodded, giving him the go-ahead.
The soldier wasted no time, raising the rifle to his shoulder, eyeing the walkers through the scope with narrowed eyes. With the long fingered caress of the trigger, he fired the gun, picking off the nearest walker and pulling the bolt handle to fire off another round.
Daryl leapt into action, making sure he danced just out of reach of the walkers as they neared, hoping the Lieutenant had his back enough to take them out before they got at him.
He stabbed and sliced and fought his damnedest, taking down as many of the fuckers as he could when they neared him, whether it was long enough to dance out of reach or permanent.
At one point a walker grabbed hold of his arm and pulled him backwards, sending him onto his ass, Daryl kicked up with his feet, sending it back before it could pin him, but two more were on him.
One was taken down with the crack of a gunshot and Daryl managed to break the other walker's leg, dropping it long enough for him to jump up and stab it through the eye.
In the tree, the gunshots halted and Daryl spun around, panicked that the Lieutenant had been snagged, instead he found the Lieutenant loading his rifle, quickly and with the eerie composure of a fucking psychopath.
Turning back on the walkers, he found only five or so remained, moving from around the cabin, racing towards them.
One dropped after the sharp crack of a gunshot before he reached Daryl's location and he pulled his crossbow off his shoulder to take down one more, leaving him with three dragging their asses towards him.
Another one dropped, then another and before he could reach them the last one dropped as well.
Still crouched in attack mode, Daryl looked around madly, shocked and worried that it hadn't been much of a fight.
Finding the cabin clearing empty, he held up a finger and twirled it, ordering the Lieutenant to rally.
The soldier dropped out of the tree and approached him, grinning widely.
"I didn't think you could do it, couyon," he greeted. "Holy hell and all the saints," he went on, looking about at the slaughtered dead that lay scattered around the clearing.
"Nearly got my damned arm tore off," Daryl complained. "Come on."
Approaching the front door to the cabin, Daryl pushed back his theory of why the walkers weren't wetting themselves over getting at anyone alive in the cabin and cautiously turned the handle of the door.
The smell of rot overwhelmed him, pluming out from the interior of the cabin and he almost didn't want to push inside, lest he throw up in front of the weird Cajun, but he held the back of his hand to his nose and stepped inside.
There were about six or seven dead walkers scattered around the room, the scent must have convinced the walkers outside that there wasn't anything worth anything in the cabin.
Daryl's eyes darted about the inside, there were cupboards hanging open, cans scattered from them, leading to a trapdoor that was notched into the floor.
Slowly, he reloaded his crossbow and approached the trapdoor, ready for anything.
He motioned for the Cajun to open the door and the soldier knelt, rifle at ready.
Carefully the Cajun hooked his rifle barrel into the notch and yanked the door wide open, backing away with his rifle raised.
Peering into the dark hole, Daryl wasn't sure what to do, bursting into a room was one thing, but hopping down a shaky ladder into a dark root cellar was another.
"Anyone down there?" The Cajun called out, somehow sensing Daryl's apprehension.
There was no response.
Licking his bottom lip, the soldier tried again. "If you're from the prison, I'm on your side."
Daryl frowned, that sounded like something one of the Governor's boys would say. "Carol?" He tried. "Come on out, woman. I ain't fooling around."
In the shaft of dim light that was cast into the bottom of the blackness, an arm came, holding a pistol, then a face. Big blue eyes staring up at him, blinking against the light.
He nearly dropped to his knees, but managed to hold it together.
"What the hell are you doing down there?" He demanded, trying hard to sound gruff.
Carol beamed her bright, angelic grin at him and launched herself up the ladder.
She looked rough, but alive, still beaming broadly at him. "Took your time," she teased.
God, the woman had a way of looking far too fucking sunny during the end of the world, covered in blood and guts and dirt and grime as she was.
As she moved too close to him, he backed away ever so and cleared his throat, avoiding what he was sure was going to be a hug of sorts.
She stopped herself and turned her bright smile on the Lieutenant, before lowering herself to the hole. "It's okay, it's Daryl!" She called out.
Carefully Herschel entered into the light, followed by Beth holding Judith, they all looked dirty and tired, but alive.
Daryl slung his crossbow over his shoulder and knelt at the hole for Judith to be passed up to him.
Once the little thing was in his arms, he felt himself smile. He never smiled, but the Little Asskicker did that to him.
The tiny thing flailed an arm at him and he caught it in a rough hand. "Hey, Little Asskicker, been busy I see." He greeted.
Beside him the Lieutenant sidled up and smiled. "I heard a lot about you, pischouette." He cooed.
Everyone flocked around him, questions were thrown at Daryl, but he shrugged them off for a moment, just reveling in the fact that hope hadn't kicked his balls this time.
"We better move," the Lieutenant observed. "Gunshots might have attracted some of the uggies our way."
Daryl glanced out the open door. "It's getting dark, we'll take our chances here tonight. How's she on formula?" He asked Carol.
"She'll be good for one more night."
"What about you? Water? Food? Ammo?"
"Had plenty of canned goods," Beth said. "Water's running low, ammo's out. Have you found Maggie yet?"
Daryl shook his head. "Naw, but I will."
Beth huddled in close to her father at the lack of news on her sister, but held it together bravely.
Herschel eyed the Cajun warily over the top of his daughter's head. "Hello, son," he said.
"Heya," he returned.
"That's the Lieutenant, he's on our side." Daryl pointed out. Smiling down at Judith again, he handed her off to Carol. "I have something for you," he said to the baby, moving to the Lieutenant to pull that bright pink blanket out of his pack. "Keep you warm."
Carol helped him remove her ragged sweater from around the baby, wrapping her up in her soft, warm blanket once more.
Running a hand over her soft, baby fine hair, Daryl nodded. "Pink's girly for a Little Asskicker like you, but it's better than nothing."
..-~-..
..-~-..
They hunkered down in the cabin for the night after the Lieutenant and Daryl cleared out the walkers, leaving them outside to ward off any others who might come wandering by.
With Herschel and Daryl keeping watch at the windows, Carol, Beth and the Lieutenant all huddled around Judith, ready to keep her entertained in case she started bawling. Daryl was sure they were just doting on the little thing, it only took one person to keep a baby entertained.
Keeping one eye on the outside world through the little crack in the curtain and one on the woman holding the baby, Daryl smiled a small, cat-like smile. He was proud that she kept it together enough to survive the amount of the walkers that had swarmed the cabin. She had come a long way from the mousy thing that used to hang her head, avoid eye contact and just do what she was told.
He didn't feel one ounce of remorse for the loss of her husband.
But.
But he still felt sick at the thought of the loss of her baby girl.
It was something he tried not to think about anymore, but there was only so much a man could ignore.
Daryl nearly launched his elbow backwards when a small hand touched his bicep, he tensed ready to do so, until he realized the hand belonged to her.
He relaxed, allowing her hand to linger on his arm. If she were anyone else, they would have had a broken nose.
Carol had Judith in her other arm and was all soft smiles and womanly warmth. "When Rick came back from Woodbury without you, he didn't say you were dead. So I knew you'd find us, tried to make as much of a trail as I could. Didn't think until halfway here to take to the creek bed where the ground is softer."
Daryl winced, keeping his eye on the outside world. "You did good." He stated. "How do you know I didn't take off with Merle though?"
"I just knew."
"Don't be so smug," he replied.
Releasing his arm, Carol pressed her back against the wall beside the window and eyed the group. "The Lieutenant seems nice."
"He's a pain in my ass, won't shut up for nothing." Daryl grunted. "Can't even understand his dumb Cajun ass half the time."
Turning away from his watch long enough to study Carol's face, to put every inch of it into memory, Daryl found himself leaning in a little towards her hoping to catalog her scent as well. He had never smelled her before and as odd as it seemed to him (which was very fucking odd) he wanted to know her scent.
She turned to face him and he pulled back quickly, turning his eyes back to the outside world.
"We have a long walk tomorrow back to the convent," he said. "Best get some sleep."
"Okay," she replied. "How about a kiss?"
Daryl tensed instantly. "What?"
"For Judith? A goodnight kiss?" Carol's eyes twinkled.
The woman was fooling with him again.
"Everybody gives a baby a goodnight kiss on the forehead," Carol insisted with a small, cheeky smirk.
Daryl hesitated, glancing at the others, especially that fucking Cajun, before eyeing the baby in Carol's arms. He took one last cautious glance at the soldier boy, before darting his head down and pressing a kiss to Little Asskicker's forehead.
He straightened as if nothing happened and glared at the outside world, waiting for Carol to wander off.
Only when he glanced around at the others one last time, did he notice the Lieutenant smiling like a cat who ate the canary, his eyes on Beth as she told him all about the prison raid. But Daryl knew the asshole was smiling about the kiss.
Somehow he just fucking knew.
The Cajun Dialect
I've already covered this one, but here's a friendly reminder.
Pischouette - A runt or a little person (feminine form).