AdmiralCherokeeRose - I feel so hard for what Rick is going through right now on the show. He's such a nice, decent guy at heart, but the situation is turning him into a nutjob. I just want to make a bundle of him sometimes. Anyways, thanks a million for the review! Glad you finally decided to let your voice be heard. ^_^

ldyjaydin - Me too! ^_^ Thanks a ton for the review!

skittletitz - It's amazing how much people have shown support for the Old Missy and the Lt...I almost they weren't just silly OC's...

GG - Hey, sorry I didn't reply to your lovely review in the last chapter, not sure if you know this, but anon reviews go into a mod bin for the author's to moderate and I sometimes forget to clear mine. Anyways, to answer your question I think the Mother Superior was living in a fantasy world hearing about things, but not bearing witness to it with her own eyes. Seeing one of her own as an 'abomination' tearing the intestines out of another of her own probably shook her faith to it's foundations.

Brazen Hussy - You're going to be sad at the lack of Merle in this chapter...sorry to disappoint...he's in it a wee bit. *sleazy salesman grin*

Axelrocks -I figured the only way Merle would be distracted from being a jerk would be with tales of sexual exploits. ^_^

Surplus Imagination - I'm sad at the turn Rick has taken on the show, but it's delightfully realistic, isn't it? Thanks a million for the review! You get all the points.

Lilone1776 - I hope Rick's group bonds again, they're beginning to crack apart on the show like a melting Arctic ice floe.

AFishNamedSushi - I would imagine not being from the south the Tallahassee accents would be a shock, huh? I heard they're quite thick. Amazing how little Tallahassee gets mentioned...it's a lovely place apparently.

Well, kiddos, you've waited long and been so patient and kind and lovely and here's a chapter that's full of everything...I mean it's long and full of everything. *cough* Caryl *cough*

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Saoul

**Daryl**

Among the members of the group, Daryl was the only one not eager for blood. At least not right away.

Rick stood in the midst of a crowd of Glenn, Maggie, Tyreese and his people, Beth and Herschel and Carl, even Carol, but Daryl was the only one who wasn't completely ready for war just yet.

Looking at Rick, hell looking at the others, Daryl figured they could use a few days rest before making any plans for revenge. They weren't going to be very effective if their senses weren't sharp enough.

Quietly cleaning his crossbow, he eyed the group as Rick whipped them into a froth for battle.

Beside him Merle eyed the group as well, sitting on the outskirts of the fire they started to keep them from stepping all over the toes of the Cajun's group in the buildings as they made their plans.

Sensing the conversation was getting too blue for Annie and Judith's ears, Carol took the children and moved away from the group and talks of war, heading for the dorms.

Taking in the woman with the sword who haunted the doorway of the infirmary where they had put Andrea and his brother at his side Daryl, decided he was stuck playing babysitter. Hell, even Rick or Glenn or Maggie had good reason enough to want Merle dead.

Watching Carol disappear into the dorms, the youngest Dixon brother turned his eyes back on his weapon, rubbing it down gently.

"Waste of a calm night and a tight little package," Merle grunted, laughing at Daryl.

"Shut up, Merle." He snapped. The man may have been his brother, but he was becoming a real pain in his ass.

Pushing to his feet, the older brother groaned as his knees popped. "Well, I'm going to find me a warm body and a soft bed."

Daryl moved to stand as well, his brother pushed him back down on his ass roughly. "Give me some space, little bro. I'll be fine."

"It's not you I'm worried about." Daryl replied.

Merle chuckled. "Yeah, you do gather assholes around you, don't you? Don't worry, baby brother, I'm going to find me a nun to keep me safe."

Watching his brother move towards the wall where Sister Joan was on patrol, Daryl hesitated, before deciding to let Merle go. He couldn't watch his ass all the time and he hated feeling like a mother hen.

Noticing Glenn and Maggie both giving him dark looks, Daryl bowed his head back to his crossbow.

If they thought he was ever going to choose the group over family they could kiss his ass, Merle had always had his back when he was around and even when he wasn't, there were phone calls from the clink and letters home.

Deciding to take a walk to escape the nasty looks the others were giving him, Daryl stood up, slipping his crossbow onto his back and tucking his rag into his back pocket quietly.

Wandering around the church, Daryl decided to patrol the back garden and cemetery before checking on Merle, even if just from a distance.

Behind the old stone building, the cemetery was dark, there were no artificial lights anymore and even when there had been, he doubted there were any overlooking the simple wooden markers of Sisters past.

Quietly picking his way around the crosses, Daryl made his way towards the back gate that lay just around the corner of the church against the eastern wall.

"Daryl!" Rick called after him, hurrying to catch up.

Pausing by the freshly dug grave of one of the nuns, he waited for their leader to reach him.

"You with us or not?" Rick demanded, his patience as thin as it had been as of late. "We could really use your input."

Daryl studied Rick quietly for a moment. "You want my advice, man? Catch up on some shut eye."

Eyeing him with hard blue eyes, Rick placed his hands on his hips in what Daryl had labelled his 'cop with an attitude' pose. "We're on the run for our lives and you're worried about sleep?" Rick snapped. "You have to get your act together, Daryl. I need you with us."

"Rick you haven't slept since long before we took the prison," Daryl stated calmly. "It's not good for you."

Touching a hand to his face, Rick rubbed his stubbled jaw. "I will sleep when we finish this."

"You're no good to us without your wits," Daryl argued. "The Governor's men will still be there in a few days, we're safe here for a while. Rest up, then we'll take measures."

"We need to act now." Rick stated.

"It's already been a few days, man. The Governor will have already regrouped, there's no point in rushing this. You rest up and we'll be stronger going into this."

"Daryl, you're either with us or you're not!"

"What are you saying, Rick?" Daryl snapped.

"You know exactly what I'm saying." Rick replied. "Bringing Merle around our people after what he did to Glenn and Maggie?"

Feeling that familiar heat of rage rise in his chest, Daryl stepped in close to Rick. "After what he did to Glenn and Maggie? Let's talk about what you did to Merle? Huh? I think it's due time we had that discussion, Rick!"

"You're brother's an out-of-control asshole, Daryl, the sooner you realize this the better you'll be in life!"

"Fuck you, man!" Daryl snarled. "Just because you grew up in suburbia with mommy and daddy paying your way into the cop shop, doesn't mean you know jack shit about Merle! You think he's just some cracked out two-bit hood? Fuck you! Merle's been through a lot and he's my brother and I won't have people forcing me to choose between him and anyone else!"

Sighing heavily, Rick rubbed at his eyes with the heels of his hands. "Look, we're leaving tomorrow for the prison, then we're going on to Woodbury, you think about whether you're with us or not."

"Get some sleep tonight, Rick." Daryl suggested.

The ex-cop didn't say anything, he just walked off into the darkness, leaving Daryl standing beside a fresh grave.

"First month of basic they had us attend this seminar on post-traumatic stress," a Cajun drawl purred from the deepest, blackest part of the shadows by the church.

Daryl glanced about for the source, but couldn't see a damned thing in the dark of the night.

"Fay? What the hell are you doing out here?"

"Taking communion," he muttered. "Want some?"

There was a clink of glass and a bottle neck being shoved into Daryl's hand.

Gripping the bottle out of pure reflex action, Daryl scoffed. "Are you drunk?"

"Naw, red wine is like grape juice to me, pull up some turf."

Adjusting to the darkness, Daryl spied a spot beside the Cajun and flopped down, taking a swig from the bottle.

"Sorry about listening to that fight of yours," the Lieutenant said, munching on a wafer. "I actually thought you saw me sitting here."

"It's alright."

"So I was saying, your man there looks like he's hard under," the Cajun said softly, holding out a little wooden box full of what looked like graham crackers.

Daryl shook his head at them.

"He just needs some rest." Daryl defended Rick. "Rick's a good man, just having a rough go right now."

"Stress can change even the mildest heart."

Unable to properly gauge the man's face in the dark, Daryl took another swig of the wine. "Speaking of…what really brings you out here?"

"Sister Gertrude took in stray cats that she found in the town nearby, people started bringing them here for her to take care of. Before all this of course, but she never stopped caring for them even after the world went down. She said 'cats were God's creatures, they took care of themselves, but every now and then sought out comfort and companionship'.

Sister Mary Monica used tell these horrible knock-knock jokes. I don't know, she was kind of a goofy thing, but she smiled a lot and I liked the way her nose would wrinkle when she laughed. Never felt like a heathen talking to her, like because I'm not Catholic, it didn't matter much with her.

They were real innocents, you know?

I feel like maybe I could have done something if I were here. Sister Gertrude, well that was just her time, but Sister Mary Monica…she had a full life yet before her."

"You don't know that you being here would have made any difference," Daryl stated, knowing exactly what the man was stewing over.

The Cajun took a swig of wine. "No, but I feel like I could have done something if I were here."

"Yeah, well I feel like I could flap my ears and fly my ass into the night, doesn't mean I'm going to get results." Daryl snapped.

They sat for a few minutes in silence, drinking the wine quietly.

After about fifteen minutes, Daryl sniffed. "So, what, we're just going to sit here all night getting drunk in a graveyard, then? Because I gotta get in and get some rest." He asked.

"Moi itou je veux partir."

Pushing to his feet, Daryl nodded, handing the empty bottle back to the Cajun. "Yeah, I should go check on my dumb assed brother too."

"You are a saint for putting up with that man, you know that, cabri?"

"Yeah, maybe the nuns will make me one, huh?" Daryl shot back.

Struggling to his feet, the Cajun tried to grab the couple of empty bottles he had gone through, but dropped them one at a time.

"Foutre," the Cajun growled, scrambling to gather the bottles.

"I thought you said you weren't drunk."

"Je peux pas partir mon char." The Cajun replied with a huff of laughter.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Come on, dumb ass."

"And I'm not drunk," the Cajun insisted as he staggered a little around the corner of the church. "Just uncoordinated in the dark."

"Whatever, lightweight," Daryl replied.

..-~-..

..-~-..

He got the Cajun into the dorms where the soldier mumbled he should stay, slumping against the door frame just outside a particular room like a hobo sleeping outside a soup kitchen.

Daryl was sure the room must have been either the Mother Superior's or the little girl's or maybe it was both these days.

Eyeing the sleeping soldier, Daryl wondered if maybe he should have just taken him back to the garden shed. After all the nuns made it very clear men were to keep the hell out of the dorms during the day, never mind at night when the sisters were sleeping.

Deciding to do a safety sweep because he was there, Daryl took a quick tour down the halls, peeking into rooms that were left open, ensuring everyone was safely tucked into their beds and nothing was lurking that shouldn't be.

Finding nothing seriously wrong, he continued on towards the kitchen where the flickering of candlelight could be seen under the door.

Pushing open the door he found Carol inside, sitting at the kitchen table with Judith in her arms, feeding her quietly.

She looked up at the creaking of the door and offered him one of her faint smiles.

Realizing she was the one person he actually wanted to see, Daryl stepped further into the kitchen and closed the door behind him quietly.

"She's such a quiet thing," Carol remarked softly.

"How's she doing on formula?" He asked.

"Good, Glenn brought back enough for another week or so," she replied. "Can't wait until she's on solids, we can mash up whatever we eat for her."

Daryl eyed the squirming baby with calm eyes as he moved to stand behind her. "Maybe we can make some canned baby food for her."

"Sure we will, Little Asskicker's need their vitamins."

Flashing him one of her rare, beaming smiles, Carol nodded.

Hopping onto the counter, Daryl watched Carol and Judith for a long, content moment.

"I don't want you going back to the prison tomorrow," he said simply.

When Carol turned big blue eyes on him, he looked away. "It's not safe yet to return." He explained. "I'm going ask the Mother Superior if you can stay here for a while longer."

"What about the others?" She asked.

"Can't stop them, won't stop them. Rick has them all stirred up for trouble and I don't think me talking would change their minds."

"I wish Rick would reconsider his plans for tomorrow." Carol admitted.

Daryl nodded.

Putting down the bottle, Carol tossed a dish towel over her shoulder and standing up, placed Judith against it, softly patting her back. She approached Daryl at the counter.

"Maybe you should talk to him." She suggested.

"I tried. It didn't do any good. He's hell bent on revenge at this point, won't listen to reason."

"He's going to get everyone killed rushing into it like this," Carol pointed out.

Daryl dipped his head in agreement.

"Maybe you could talk to the others?" She suggested.

Recalling the mistrustful looks Glenn and Maggie had been giving him as of late, Daryl winced. "I don't think anyone would listen to me."

"Daryl, your opinion is perhaps one of the most valued in the group. If you say it's not wise to go in fighting tomorrow, the others will listen to you." She said.

"They'd probably listen to you more than me right now." He stated.

Her eyes flickered over his form.

"I think they're upset about Merle being here." He added.

She nodded. "I don't think that'd influence their opinion of you though. They might be upset with you, but they still trust you."

Reaching out he ran a finger down Judith's soft cheek. "Maybe."

"Definitely. I know I do." She replied.

They were interrupted by the sound of the door creaking open and looked over to find Annie standing there rubbing her eyes.

"Hey, honey," Carol chirped. "What's wrong?"

"I need a glass of water," she muttered.

Hopping off the counter, Daryl moved to sit at the table as Carol handed Judith over to him and moved to get the little girl a glass of water from the plastic container that the nuns kept their well water in.

Moving to take a seat at Daryl's side, Annie eyed him quietly, still half asleep.

"You and Carol should have more babies so I can play with all of them," the little girl mumbled, reaching over to touch Judith's little foot.

Daryl felt his face grow hot and he glanced over to see if Carol heard Annie.

The woman's eyes darted away from his upon contact as she poured the water. "More babies?" She asked.

"Yeah, then I could play with them." Annie insisted.

"Oh, honey you think Judith is ours?" Carol asked, handing her the glass of water.

Annie downed half of it, smacking her lips when she was done. "Um-hm."

"She's not."

"Oh, why not?"

Daryl tucked his chin to his chest, hoping to avoid the scene as much as possible.

"Because she's not, honey. We just look after her." Sitting down with them at the table, Carol tucked Annie's dark hair behind her ear. "You know that tall man Daryl brought back with him today?"

"Mr. Rick?"

"Judith is his little girl."

"Oh. How come you and Daryl don't have a little girl, then?"

Carol laughed softly. "Uh…well…Daryl and I aren't…um…"

"Stop asking nosy questions, twerp." Daryl snapped playfully. "Drink your water."

The little girl downed the rest of her water and eyed him for a moment, before grinning. "Do you know how babies are made, Mr. Daryl?"

"I do, do you?" He replied.

She giggled. "Kissing."

Carol beamed and pushed to her feet. "Okay, back to bed, missy."

Ushering Annie out of the room left Daryl behind with Judith, flushed a deep red. He idly played with the baby's hand as she gripped his finger tight.

After a few minutes Carol returned, grinning widely, arms out for Judith.

Daryl handed her off quickly, eyes averted. "Well, I should get some rest."

"What's wrong?" Carol teased. "Don't want to make a baby with me tonight?"

Without thinking it through, his eyes snapped up to meet her laughing face as she rolled up onto the balls of her feet, Judith kneeding at her collar with a weak little hand.

Daryl suddenly felt very uncomfortable and as much as he tried not to show it, he squirmed in his spot a little.

Laughing softly, Carol leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, mindful of Judith between them.

Reaching up Daryl idly rubbed at the spot where her lips touched him and eyed her out of the corner of his eye.

"Hm, I don't think that's how it's done." She added slyly.

"You didn't do it right," he mumbled.

Quick as a rattlesnake, she hopped up onto her tiptoes and caught his mouth with hers.

Daryl froze immediately, every muscle in his body tensing as she literally stole his breath.

As soon as she pulled away, he stepped back nervously and made a beeline for the door. Reaching it, common sense came back to him and he stopped dead in his tracks, realizing she might take his fast paced escape the wrong way.

Turning around cautiously, he found her looking a little hurt where he left her and balled his hands into fists as his side.

Internally he struggled with himself. He didn't want her to think he found her kiss repulsive, but he also didn't want her to think she could just go around kissing him.

Well, maybe she could if she wanted. He wasn't one to stop her from doing what made her happy.

"Sorry," she whispered softly.

Wincing, he realized he probably hurt her more than necessary at his quick escape and unfurled his hands, allowing them to hang loose at his side.

"Don't be." He offered, before opening the door and slipping out into the night.

The Cajun Dialect

Saoul – Drunk

Moi itou je veux partir. – I want to leave too.

Foutre – The Cajun French equivalent of 'fuck'.

Je peux pas partir mon char. – I can't start my car (the Lt was obviously kidding).