Author's Note: Thank you guys soo much for the wonderful feedback of the last chapter: Isnotamusedsir, ReadWriteLove715, Lila-Renee, Pixie P, and guest. I'm not going to delete your review because you have every right to your opinion just like I have the right to portray Andrea however I want. You don't have to read it, no one is forcing you :) Anyway! Thanks to all the kind words from everyone else! *gives you all cupcakes*
ReadWriteLove715: I hope you like your surprise!(:

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN.
ALL YOU NEED IS LOVE.

"Daryl?" Taylor's voice was small and strained from the tears that were staining her cheeks. A grin managed to break through as he nodded, proving that he wasn't a figment of her imagination like she'd initially suspected. "You're alive?" She gazed up at him with eyes wide and glossy as he towered over her, his hand offered with a smirk.

"'Course. Who the hell else is gonna save yer ass all the time?" She slowly reached out, grabbing his hand and letting him pull her off the filthy ground. He wiped away some of the stray tears. Much to her, and Merle's surprise, he wrapped his arms around her in a hug. Merle rose an eyebrow with a bemused smirk on his face; baby brother had gone soft. Of course he had already known that without the added proof of seeing it. He wasn't too thrilled about it either, but he couldn't deny that it was funny to watch him show some human emotion for once.

Taylor shoved him roughly away, causing everyone's eyebrows to raise in surprise. It was not often Daryl tried to be affectionate and for her to turn it away was even more rare.

She slapped him on the chest, shoving him further away with a scowl. "I thought you were dead! You scared the hell out of me!"

"I... what? What did ya want me to do, send smoke signals?"

"Shut up," she turned away from him, watching everyone quickly turn away to pretend like they weren't staring at the two fighting. It was futile as she could already tell by their obvious interest in the dirt and trees around them. The blonde honestly didn't know what had gotten into her, but after hearing Rick say he probably didn't make it she had been terrified. She should have just let it be a happy reunion, however she couldn't shake the thought of their future. She had been so scared, and she couldn't begin to imagine if she had to feel that everyday. Maybe that was why she didn't want to accept his return... she had a horrible, sinking feeling she'd be losing him again soon.

Everything had taken so much longer than expected, and the group of five ended up camping out deep in the woods on the far side of Woodbury. They were in much too far for The Governor's people to find them, with that in mind, they all laid down to sleep, except Daryl who volunteered to stay up for night watch.

Taylor found herself wrapping her arms across her body for warmth. The fire was nice and did a good job, but she had drifted far from it, ending up beside Daryl. She couldn't help the relieved sigh that escaped her lips, she was still shocked that he was here again. Although she had tried to ignore his worrisome absence and Rick's solemn last sighting, she had indeed thought him to be dead; resorting to anger to cover up the dark thoughts that would not leave her mind. Now just the sight of him sent a chill up her spine, how did he even make it out by himself?

"Hey..." she found herself whispering even though the group was far away, sound asleep.

"Hey." He looked up from cleaning his crossbow, a habit that he had always carried with him when he was thinking too much. Taylor sat down next to him on the old, broken down log, causing him to glance up at her for a second.

They sat in a comfortable silence for at least fifteen minutes, letting the air settle between them as well as an unspoken apology. Taylor smiled over at him. "So, I know this is a question you'd usually get all pissy about and ignore me, but seeing that we both almost just died- do you think you could humor me?"

"Alright, shoot." He began to brace himself for the worst, who the hell knew what prodding question about his childhood, or past, she would ask. He would try not to get temperamental, but he had a feeling he was going to anyway.

"What's the corniest pick-up line you've used on a girl?"

"What?" He gaped at her, stunned as the question had caught him completely off guard. It wasn't nearly anything he was expecting. "I, uh, don't know? Shit. I don't even remember the last time I used one, probably since college." Taylor couldn't help but grin as she pictured Daryl as the same, handsome, emotionally awkward, slightly younger version of himself trying to pick up a girl. Her smile grew as she shut her eyes and the vision grow into him using some ridiculous pick-up line and then cursing himself for it. They let another small bout of silence hang over them until Taylor leaned forwards, her elbows resting on her knees.

"Use one on me."

"Taylor," he shook his head slightly, he knew this simple game to her could escalate into a another fight between them. He was never good with 'what if' type games, and when he felt uncomfortable, he tended to push people away. "No."

"Come on," she grinned at him before instantly flipping on the pouty face. He hated how easily she could turn it on and off, but he could never say no. "If we hadn't met through this," she expanded her arms in front of her to roughly display the apocalypse. "What line would you have used on me?"

"I wouldn't 'ave. I wouldn't 'ave even talked to ya," he answered simply. When her face fell he instantly regretted the way he had phrased it.

"Ouch."

"Ugh," he grunted in frustration, he had tried to avoid this and said no, hadn't he? "That's not what I meant." He sighed now, looking up to the starry sky to buy himself some time to figure out how to properly word it. "I just- I woulda never had the courage to talk to ya. Now Merle," he chuckled thinking about his crazy older brothers horrible way with women, "he woulda treated ya like a dog, wolf-whistlin' n lookin' at ya like a piece of meat... then act like he didn't care when ya rejected 'em." He paused for the briefest of seconds, "me? I wouldn't 'ave bothered."

"But why? You're-"

"Don't. Even. Say it." He cut her off swiftly, already knowing the next words that were going to exit her mouth. It was well known that Daryl did not know how to take a compliment. Taylor had picked up on it fast, but that didn't stop her from trying now and again. "Just admit that ya would not 'ave approached me either."

She pursed her lips together before frowning, "I guess not."

This got depressing fast. After another silence, this time unsettling, passed she stood up. She was done pushing him, since clearly that's what the question had done. He grabbed her wrist as she tried to make a get away from his available reaching space. She stopped abruptly at the contact but didn't turn around. Why could she never walk away from him?

He frowned, he knew he'd upset her.

"Did it hurt?"

"What?" She spun around on her heels, breaking his hand from her wrist.

"Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?" He smirked up at her, both his rare smile and the ridiculous line making her laugh. She knew he was just trying for her, he would never say such a thing and mean it. Taylor rose an eyebrow, a similar smirk on her own lips.

"I dug my way up from hell." Daryl snorted at her rubttle, the closest she'd ever come to hearing him laugh.

"That would have been awkward."

"Right up your alley."

"Hm?" He furrowed his eyebrows, confused by what she'd meant. Her forehead creased in concentration as she tried to explain it to him nicely. After all, she found his awkward shyness appealing for some reason.

"How do I put this?" She tapped her chin playfully, raising it up in the air when she got an idea. "Oh! You're like a baby's first steps." He glared at her skeptically, completely unaware of how he was anything like her metaphor. "A baby's first steps... exciting, cute, and kind of awkward." She grinned at him when her explanation had landed. He nodded his head appreciatively at the description, ignoring the fact that she'd snuck 'cute' into the mix and thinking he wouldn't notice.

"Anywayyy," she sang as she stepped backwards a few paces. "Goodnight."

"Night," he repeated, watching her retreating form head to their makeshift camp.

"Damn baby brother," Merle let out a low whistle. Daryl jumped slightly and tensed to try and hide that he had been startled; he hadn't even realized his sneaky older brother was spying on him. He would have known he was there if he wasn't so distracted, if Taylor didn't walk with that damn sway to her hips. He scoffed at himself, he couldn't think those ridiculous thoughts.

"What Merle?" He groaned, running a hand over his face.

"Now that ain't no way ta treat yer big brother ya ain't seen in months." He plopped down on the log where Taylor had vacated. Oh yeah.

Daryl nodded, "I uh- it's good to see ya again."

"Ditto." Merle's steely eyes flickered to the camp where Daryl had reluctantly pulled his eyes from. "Ya got it bad, baby brother... not a position us Dixon's are good in."

"I ain't got anythin'."

"Mmm... ya think it's a good idea ta keep stringin' liddle blondie along?" He rose both eyebrows at his brother. "Ain't that goin' against that pussy conscience ya got or sumthin'?" He paused to give Daryl a chance to defend himself, which he did quickly.

"I don't know what you're talkin' 'bout," he averted his gaze not wanting to broach this subject with himself, let alone Merle. He knew he wouldn't understand the position he was in even if it bit him in the ass. They were both dense as hell, but Daryl felt he'd grown up a little bit in that sense since joining the group.

"Uh huh," Merle rubbed his stubbled chin for a moment before slapping his knees and standing up. "Welp, if ya don't know what I'm talkin' 'bout then I guess our original plan is still in effect?" He let out a heavy sigh, "need to be a little altered though... we'll head back to tha prison ta get sum supplies n' then head out on our own." He narrowed his eyes at the younger sibling. "That okay? Or does liddle blondie got ya wrapped 'round her finger?"

Daryl winced, he was not whipped like Merle was insinuating.

"Fuck you." He was still a damn Dixon, and Dixon's did not get attached, he didn't need 'big brother' to remind him of that rule of thumb. Merle busted out in a throaty laugh, apparently the comment really rattled him to the core, he hadn't snapped on him in ages. Daryl finally gave him a curt nod, "it's fine."

After the words spilled from his lips he regretted them. He already felt a pain in his chest from abandoning the group that had welcomed him. It may have taken them some time, but it took him awhile as well, so there were no hard feelings there. But they still accepted him and treated him as part of their family. Taylor's face appeared in his minds eyes, making him roll his shoulders to push all of those thoughts away. Every single one of them.

He rolled his shoulders once more, shaking his head to alleviate the pressure that was pushing against his ribcage. He didn't need her. But she needed him, that was for damn sure... and maybe he'd grown slightly accustomed to her presence. Maybe.

"Good. It's settled then, the Dixon brothers will be on their own again! Juss like it should be," Merle slapped his brothers shoulder before heading back to the camp.

Daryl stared out into the darkness, only to find himself thinking the same thing over and over again. He'd made a mistake, but he couldn't take it back, he couldn't go back on his word. He couldn't betray blood.

"Fuck."

"How far along do you think you are?" Hershel leaned close to Lori, hovering over her slightly protruding belly. He held the stethoscope to her stomach. She grimaced at the cold, pulling back for a mere second before settling again with Shane's hand squeezing hers. He slowly slid it across, trying to hear the baby's heartbeat.

"I... we're not sure," she whispered, watching him closely to be sure he wasn't making any bad faces. Lori had been panicking recently that there was something wrong with the baby. She was used to it kicking a few times a day for the past week, but had noticed a lack of activity. She couldn't help but be the worried mother hen.

"Hmm," he smiled when he finally heard a very faint heartbeat that wasn't Lori's. He knew it was only faint because he didn't have the proper equipment to hear it accurately. He counted the beats to seconds and nodded with the smile still there. "They baby is fine as far as I can tell."

"Thank god," Shane and Lori collectively sighed, relief washing over them.

"You sure you can't think of when this would have happened?" He stared at them, patiently waiting while they both went over the timeline in their heads.

"Well... if the math is right... I think four or five months?"

"Did you show this much with Carl at that time period?" She looked down at her belly with a memory filled smile. Carl was such an easy baby, she knew this wouldn't be the same. Lori nodded her head, "yes. I remember it being about this big around the end of four months."

"About sixteen weeks?" He stroked his graying beard thoughtfully. "That seems right, kicking begins usually between fifteen to sixteen weeks."

"How do you know so much about human babies?" Shane helped Lori sit up right again. "I don't mean to be rude-"

"No, no," Hershel shook his head slowly. "It's a perfectly legitimate question." He smiled between the two, it slowly faded to a frown as he remembered his late wife. "With both Maggie and Beth I read, re-read the baby books. I recall reading them from cover to cover twice over, with each pregnancy. Some things just stuck..." he sighed, standing up now. He was getting used to the crutches and the lack of foot. "I know I specialized in animals, but I promise to help you with this to the best of my ability. I know it's not the same."

"Thank you so much Hershel, for everything." Lori gave him a wide grin, patting his hand lightly. He nodded his 'your welcome' before leaving the two to their cell. Shane glanced at her nervously.

"You didn't tell him?"

"No," she gave him a stern look, and just like that she'd flipped personalities again. Shane was becoming more and more scared by the day. He was so distressed over it all he'd started to be sick on an almost daily basis. Hershel had claimed it was sympathy illness for his wife's morning sickness but he knew better. Shane was worrying himself sick over his bi-polar, possibly murderous, pregnant wife.

"Well..." he stalled, trying to think of a way to say it without her flipping a lid. "Should we-"

"NO, Shane." She put on a fake smile, squeezing his hand gently. Shane noticed her grip tighten as her smile twisted into something darker. He gulped hard as she spoke, "we won't tell anyone. I'm fine. It's just the hormones."

"The hormones," he nodded dumbly, hoping that she was buying his act. "Of course." He gave her a weak smile and she seemed to be believing the façade.

"Good," she kissed him on the cheek. "This is between us, and we can fix it. All we need is love, just love and patience." She gave him another smile and made her way out of the cell, only turning to give him the most sinister grin he swore he'd ever seen- and he was a fucking cop. "It's our secret."

"Of course, darlin'." After she was gone he sighed and ran his hands over his face a few times. What the hell was he going to do?

A hoard of walkers slithered along the fence, trying to get at the two people inside the fences, just out of their reach. They moaned in protest, clawing at the chain-link steel that separated them from another meal. The man and woman they were after paid no attention to them though, they had too much on their mind to be bothered with the living dead.

Maggie had made her way back from the prison alone. After getting out of Woodbury she found a car that luckily had gas in it, she took a secondary route to the prison so she wouldn't be spotted by any of the Woodbury people, consequently also making herself unknown to her group that was still out in the woods. It was tough trip, she was worn and spent and just wanted to sleep, but she couldn't do that. Glenn was so excited to see her he pummeled her in a hug and showered her with kisses. Then he couldn't help but ask her the big question, he was so worried while she was gone that when he saw her face again he couldn't wait any longer.

Glenn sighed as he held Maggie tight against him. He just proposed with everything in his heart, after asking her father's permission of course, and she'd agreed- happily. He couldn't have asked for anything else in this shitty, messed up world. He had a great group, they had a shelter from the walkers, and now he had a wife.

"I love you, and I'm so glad you're going to be my wife," he whispered into her hair as he kissed the top of her head. Maggie couldn't suppress the love-sick sigh she released at his words.

"I love you too Glenn." She pulled back for a second, looking into his eyes. How could she be so happy in such an awful world? She didn't really care though, she couldn't, she was too busy being smitten with him.

He held her hand gently in his, examining the ring as the falling sun shone on it.

"I want that part of you that you refuse to give." She threw her head back and laughed, he was so corny, and she absolutely loved it.

"I promise you that." She dove back into his arms, head laying against his chest as they just stood with each other in the sunset. The walkers growled around the fences, but that didn't stop the two love birds from being in their own little oblivious world.

"Let's go back inside," Glenn begrudgingly separated from her, tugging on her hand to lead her back into the cell block. She shook her head and smirked at him, nodding her head towards the garage.

"I think we should celebrate first, don't you?" A mischievous glint flashed in her eyes and Glenn couldn't stifle the eye roll. He loved Maggie with everything in him, he loved being intimate with her, but it still surprised him that her sex drive was twice that of his. He would never turn her down though, not in a million years. Sex with Maggie with the only thing that really helped him escape the reality of the horror around him- that and thinking about the fact that he'd soon be married to her. This time though- this time he did have to decline.

"No, Miss Rhee," it was Maggie's turn to roll her eyes. She didn't want to seem even more love struck, but just his voice speaking her soon-to-be name made her melt inside. "You need to go get your arm fixed." He nodded to where there was dried blood, he had noticed she'd wince every time he touched her arm or she bent it too much. He had a feeling something bad happened but she wasn't going to tell him; she liked to try and shelter him from the bad things that happen to her.

"It's fine..." he raised both eyebrows at her.

"You look like you're about to cry." He suddenly picked her up bridal style, making her squeal. "I'm taking you to your dad, you're getting whatever that is fixed, then we'll celebrate." He grinned at her and she felt tears prickle her eyes, not from pain, but from his protectiveness of her. What would she do without him?

She prayed she would never need to find out.

"You're here early?" Milton glanced over at his fellow doctor who smiled warmly at him. She gave him a curt nod, making her long, auburn hair sway slightly. She busied herself pulling it back into a ponytail to keep it out of the way of the tools and chemicals.

"I figured you could use some help with the tests?" She whisked over and watched him carefully as he stirred the patients blood around in test tube, making a small, blood-red tornado.

"Always," he smirked up at her and placed the tube down next to the three other vials. "You've been working a lot lately Vanessa..." Milton mused aloud, handing her a few folders from their 'subjects'.

"Yeah." She nodded and began flipping through some of the files. "Phillip asked me to help you out... and then with all the injuries from the other night..."

They both took on a strained look, remembering when the walkers were let loose on their town and the captors reigned destruction on them. Luckily, there were only five casualties. It wasn't a good thing that they had died by any means, but there could have been a whole lot more death if those prisoners would have had their way.

Vanessa relaxed after a moment, her eyebrows furrowing at the blood sample he was working on. "Milton?"

"Hm?" He looked up from the computer, adjusting his glasses back onto his face properly. They always seemed to fall down when he was deep in concentration.

"Look..." she whispered, pointing to the vial that was rapidly changing color. "The... the blood!"

"Oh my..." Milton's eyes went wide in shock, was this really happening? He had been performing a little experiment, mixing the blood samples from the prisoners with blood from a walker. Now the blood was swirling by itself, and combining to make a light pink color. Vanessa quickly pulled latex gloves on and held the vial up into the light.

"Is this?"

"Yeah," he breathed, trying to scramble and get the folders together. "What number was that?" He squeaked out, unable to contain his excitement. This was the first break through they'd had with the virus since the very beginning of the outbreak. They'd never see the human blood react in such a way with the walker's blood.

"Um..." Vanessa bent over to scan through the number's until she came to the empty space. "Four."

He nodded and plucked one of the manila folders out of the pile. Vanessa continued to study the ever-changing sample. He took in a deep breath and shook his head.

"If it's combating the disease like that, instead of that," he nodded to the other samples where all the red had turned to black with the added dimension of the virus. After long, gruesome, research sessions Milton had discovered that when a "full" turn happens, the blood turns coal-black instead of red. But this... this blood was turning pink, and... and back to red?

"Oh my god, Milton!" She had to stop herself from jumping with excitement and spilling the precious blood everywhere. "This could mean... a cure?"

"I'm uh-" he fumbled with his glasses again, "I'm not sure. I don't think a cure for those who are already turned. But someone who is bitten?" He nodded slowly, carefully taking the vial from her.

"This is amazing," Vanessa mumbled, grabbing the folder to look at which prisoner the blood belonged to. "Dixon?" She tilted her head to the side for a moment. "Don't we have a Dixon here?" She started to get eager, pulling her coat on. He stopped her with the touch of a shoulder. "Don't get too excited."

"Why not? We could take more blood samples! We'll need them in case someone gets bit, we can test-"

"No, we can't." He said slowly, shaking his head from side to side. Vanessa's hand connected with her hip.

"And just why not?"

"He left." Milton stated simply, taking his time to gingerly place the vial under the high-tech microscope.

"Left?" She parroted, slowly taking her coat back off. Her face fell in disappointment, they could do so much with this advancement, but those hopes seemed to shatter with his words. "Why?"

"He went with that group Phillip had captured, the ones that want a war," he sighed and adjusted the settings on the microscope. "Merle's brother was with them so he left."

"Well, we need to find them," she announced, making sure her tone was clear: she was going whether he was or not. They needed to know about this, everyone needed to know about this.

"I'm not sure-"

"NO." The Governor stood in the doorway, his eyes narrowed on Vanessa. "No one will know about this."

"How long have you been standing there?" She questioned, an eyebrow quirked and a suspicious glint in her eyes. She liked Phillip, she really did, he had taken her in when she had nowhere else to go. But lately he had been acting so strange and she wasn't really sure if she should trust him anymore. He was taking prisoners and acting very shady, too shady for her liking.

"Long enough," he said abruptly. He started to close the door to leave just the two in the lab. "Nobody will find out about this..." he warned with one of his sinister grins, slamming the door as he left. The sound of a lock clicking could be heard and Vanessa and Milton exchanged a worrisome look.

"Oh no..." Milton stepped away from the microscope, giving her a nod to check. Vanessa warily made her way to the door, pulling on it once... twice... three times... it was locked.

"Damn!" She began banging against it wildly with his fists. "LET US OUT!" She turned back to Milton with tears streaming down her face.

"We're trapped."