wow guys so i totally didn't plan on updating this story, but i started rewatching The Walking Dead and realized how much i missed writing this OC.

Daryl had tried to clean me up, but when I fell I managed to scrape up both of my hands and knees, leaving me a bloody, grimy mess. He gave me an old raggedy shirt to hold between my hands, which managed to stop the bleeding for the most part, but every time I pulled my hands apart the shirt stuck to my flesh, causing them to bleed again. After I did it for the third time Daryl grunted in frustration.

"Stop that!" he didn't take his hands off the wheel, but he didn't have to. I did as I was told. "Every time you do that you bleed again. Blood is more important inside your body than on your clothes."

The RV took a right into a long driveway and for the first time I noticed what was going on outside of the truck. We drove long enough to get out of the city, into the farmlands of Atlanta. Houses turned into rolling open fields, until all that we could see for miles was farms and trees. We were headed to a large farmhouse way off the road.

We eased our vehicles down the driveway, watching the fields and neighboring barns for any sign of movement. Once parked, Rick got out of his truck, followed by Shane, shotguns in both of the men's hands.

I went to open my door, but Daryl put his arm across my chest, his eyes giving me a verbal warning.

"You ain't goin' nowhere unless it's that RV to get a band-aid." He pointed his finger menacingly towards the RV. I rolled my eyes at him and reached for my bow. He took it from my hands, putting it back on the floor.

"Fine." I was slightly pissed off, who was he to tell me what to do? But I understood where he was coming from. I need to clean my cuts before they got infected. "You can go and have all the fun all the time."

"Maybe when I can leave you alone without worryin' if you've hurt yourself, you can come too." He snorted. Rick waved Daryl over, and we both got out of the car.

I wasn't gushing anymore, but I was still a bloody mess, and Dale watched me in horror, his eyes fixed on my knees and hands.

"Sweetheart… you need to be more careful." He put his hands gingerly on my shoulder, leading me to the RV stairs. Taking a seat, I watched Daryl, Shane and Rick conversing, more than likely hashing out a plan for us.

Dale retreated to the inside of the RV, coming back shortly with a bottle of rubbing alcohol and gauze. I cringed when I saw it.

"This is gonna hurt like a bitch." I mumbled holding out my hands, as the three gentlemen began to walk back towards us. Without warning Dale poured a profane amount of rubbing alcohol on my hands. "OW!" I yelped, removing my hands from the stream.

Daryl watched Dale warily, but when he realized why I was screaming a small smirk played out on his face.

"I'm sorry, it's all that I have!" Dale began to apologize.

"She'll learn, wait till ya do those knee's." Daryl taunted arrogantly, leaning up against the RV door next to me.

"Shane, Daryl and myself are going to run a perimeter check, and go through the house for supplies." His look was deadly serious as he continued. "I don't want anyone to unpack anything yet, we may need to leave. Quickly." He tacked on the last bit, even though all of us knew when an escape was to be made in this crazy world, quickly was the best alternative.

Shane and Rick began their walk towards the house, splitting up as one of them headed towards the backyard. I stood up quickly after Dale finished wrapping gauze around my hands and taping a patch to my knee. I looked silly and awkward, a ridiculous amount of gauze was wrapped around my hands making anything I could possibly try to do impossible.

Daryl lingered next to me, looking out at the field, holding his crossbow smugly.

"What?" His smirk aggravated me and I held my hands up. "Oh, is this what you think is funny?"

"Yep." He began to walk off to perform his duties, looking back at me over his shoulder, his eyes full of satisfaction. Crossing my arms I glared at the man, but my glares were met with a haughty smile.

"Ass." I muttered under my breath, heading towards the truck.

When the men returned I had found a perch on Daryl's truck bed, making adjustments on my bow. The apocalypse doesn't leave time for much maintenance, so I decided to take my forced break and do a little recalibrating. Unfortunately my cams needed lube, and I hoped the car oil I used would be a good substitute.

Daryl walked up to me while I was checking the tautness of my string. I plucked at it casually, holding the sight up to my eyes and making adjustments as necessary. I had every intention of ignoring him until I saw the wounded expression on his face.

"What?" I mumbled, a dull ache forming in my chest. I noticed Rick and Shane both came back, no worse for wear, but immediately both of them split off from each other, neither saying anything to the group. When he didn't speak I elbowed him.

"They did a good job of boardin' her up, they just didn't leave." I gave him a puzzled expression and he let out a low sigh. Looking out over the field, He casually brought his hand to his head, turning his hand into a fake pistol. Before he could pull the imaginary trigger I stopped him.

"Oh…"

"Yeah, oh." Silently he watched as I fidgeted with pieces on my bow that didn't need fidgeting. When I was younger I enjoyed working on my bow more than working with my bow, but now I had grown fond of my weapon. "Wanna do mine?" I smiled wickedly pulling on the string one more time for good measure.

"Too lazy to do your own?"

"Na darlin', just so impressed with the shape of yours, figured a nice tune up is all she needs." I had grown fond of his nickname for me and smiled. He went to pull his bow off of his back when Rick called to us.

"You think you can get some firewood? We got some canned goods we can cook up tonight." Daryl nodded in compliance and I hopped down off the tailgate.

"What are you doin'?" He stopped me with a hand on my shoulder.

"Let me help. I can still get firewood." The throbbing in my hands had long stopped and I held them out to him, for some reason, thinking he could see that they no longer hurt. "Please? I can't sit here being helpless anymore."

"They could use your help cookin'."

"Is that some kind of sexist thing?" I knew it wasn't, but frankly I didn't fit in with any of the women anymore. Not since I slapped Andrea, and with Jacqui and Amy gone. It was sort of my MO. I wasn't girly enough for that. Daryl licked his lips to prevent a laugh from sneaking by. He looked out of me from the corner of his eyes before realized I was following him either way.

"Fine. Just don't trip over anythin'." I did a quick fist pump before grabbing my hunting knife and tying it to my belt loops, just in case.

After a rather quiet dinner that night I retired to the truck cabin. I didn't have a tent of my own, so the seat in the truck would have to do. The camp collectively lent me a pillow and a blanket. I propped myself up on the door of the passengers side, while Daryl set up his tent right outside the drivers side door.

I watched him intently, focusing hard on the task at hand, and smiled to myself before snuggling down into my seat. I had wrapped the blanket completely around me, cocooning myself, and closed my eyes relishing in the warmth.

"G'night." Daryl said, causing me to open my eyes to look at him.

"Good night." I smiled back, in a surprisingly chipper mood. He shook his head and sighed before bending over. The sound of a zipper, open and close, and then his shuffling around in the tent.

Sticks cracked on the ground behind me, jerking me from sleep. I heard the low shuffling of feet in the dirt, but before I could react a pair of arms came in through the window, one clamped down over my mouth, muffling my cry of surprise, and the other snaked its way around my shoulders, holding me forcefully to the door.

"You're trouble." The voice was familiar, but the whisper in my ear did not inspire any confidence. "You're always somewhere you shouldn't be, you're always out of place, and one day you're gonna get into trouble you can't get out of." Shane's murmur was rough and ragged and I struggled against his grip. I tried to bring my hands up to my mouth, but just being pulled from sleep I was surprisingly weak. "Hopefully we don't find ourselves one less camper one night." I felt Shane's arm go rigid and he pulled his mouth away from my ear.

"You got about five seconds to find your tent before I put an arrow between your eyes, pussy." It was Daryl. The panic that had risen in me subsided and I took a deep breath as Shane removed his hands from my mouth and around my shoulder.

"I was just making sure the lady was safe and sound in her truck. Making sure no walkers got to her." I felt sick as he said those last words with a hint of amusement. I turned in my seat to find Daryl pointing his crossbow at Shane, who backed away slowly, his arms out in a disarming gesture. He grinned at me and nodded his head at us before excusing himself. "Have a good night you two."

Daryl didn't like Shane's tone, and in the same second he dropped his crossbow and had Shane by the collar. The men's faces were mere inches from each other, holding eye contact in a great show of machismo.

"I let the black eye go, and hell, I even let the assault on two women in five minutes slide." Daryl licked his lips angrily, getting a tighter hold on Shane's collar. "Any man worth his salt would keep his hands off a woman, so you know what that tells me 'bout you?" Something inside Daryl twitched, and I knew he wanted to hit him. He paused, glancing at me from the corner of his eye.

I bit my lip, hugging the pillow. I didn't want this to escalate. Or did I? No. I desperately wanted Daryl to be the bigger man. He understood, and looked back at Shane. "Consider this your final warnin' and kindly fuck off." He threw Shane back away from him and picked up his bow. "Before we're short one camper some night." Daryl's allusion to me and Shane's conversation left the exchange in a final, threatening tone.

Surprisingly Shane walked away, growling and cautiously looking over his shoulder at Daryl, who warily watched the man as well. After making sure Shane was gone, Daryl looked at me, stone faced. I shrank back in my seat, not entirely sure why he was looking at me that way.

"You picked a damn good fight." I didn't say anything to him, just looked down at the floor of the truck. I heard him sigh and his footsteps got closer. He leaned into the cabin, placing his elbows on the window frame. We didn't speak for a second or two, just looked at each other awkwardly, breaking eye contact every now and then. Daryl scratched the back of his head and sighed. "Scoot over." He said, opening the passenger's side door.

"What are you doing?"

"I only got one cot for the tent and if you don't mind I'd rather play sardines in the truck then sleep on the ground." He glanced at me, as he closed the door behind him. Lifting off the seat he finagled my blanket out from underneath him and placed it on my lap.

"You don't need to babysit me, I think your arrow between the eyes threat scared him off." I began to laugh and he looked up at me.

"I ain't babysittin' ya." Daryl snatched the pillow from my hands and placed it on the seat next to his lap. Sinking down in his seat, he placed his hand behind his head and closed his eyes. "You don't need a babysitter anymore than I need-" He searched for words and I bit my lip, suppressing a smile. After a few seconds of not finding what he was looking for, he spoke again. "You don't need a baby sitter." He repeated finally. Daryl opened his eyes and saw that I was still watching him expectantly. "Go to sleep, damn."

I'm so excited! Reviews are appreciated!