Chapter Fourteen

He felt better, finishing the short trek around the perimeter of their little camp having given him time to get his head together. There was no use dwelling on something which wasn't going to happen anyway. Daryl sighed. She was getting too close, already in his head. It was going to cause problems if he weren't careful. He couldn't afford to allow himself to become distracted and let his guard down. If anything were to happen to her … he didn't want to think about it.

At least she'd be asleep by the time he was ready to settle in against the majestic oak where he would have a good vantage point to keep watch. He'd be able to brood in peace. Or so he'd thought, coming to a stumbling halt at the edge of camp, still lost amongst the shadows where the light of their meager campfire didn't extend.

Carol had spread her bedroll near the oak and sat cross legged atop it, carefully cleaning her guns. He couldn't stop a smile from gracing his lips as his chest swelled with pride. She was taking her training very seriously. She wanted to survive, to protect herself as well as her daughter. His woman wasn't as broken as he'd once thought.

Daryl moved silently, all the time sticking to the darkness where the light shied. His eyes widened in surprise when her movements slowed, and her chin lifted minutely. She'd heard him. Though she continued at her task as if everything were fine, he knew her ears were attuned to her surroundings, listening for threats. The corners of her eyes crinkled as they narrowed, peering through the shadows from beneath her lashes. There was no sense in causing her undue fear.

Daryl stepped out of the darkness, no longer careful with his footsteps. He wanted her to know he was coming, wanted her to recognize his familiar tread. "Carol …"

Her hand reached for her knife, palming it as he touched her shoulder. She rolled away from him, bounding to her feet … ready to run. He caught her hand as she whirled to face him. He wasn't expecting her to stand her ground, and once again she'd stunned him.

"Easy … easy, it's just me," he growled lowly, relaxing his grip on her wrist.

Carol jerked away from him, her eyes flashing hotly. "You scared me half to death!" She sheathed her knife and turned away from his when he laughed. "It's not funny."

He dropped down to sit at the base of the oak, amusement lurking behind his gaze. "I really didn't mean t'," he said honestly. "Thought you'd be asleep by now."

"Like that's likely to happen any time soon," she grumbled. Carol sat down again on her bedroll and finished with her guns silently, making sure they were loaded before setting them near to hand by her pack. "I was here alone. I knew you were nearby, but I couldn't relax enough to sleep."

"Y' were on guard," he said, digging through a pocket for his cigarettes. "I watched y' for a bit. Not a small thing for y' to be able t' hear me out there."

Carol shook her head ruefully. "But I didn't know it was you, Daryl. You are always so quiet, and I thought surely it was someone or something else."

He blew a thin stream of smoke into the air, watching as she curled up with her head on her pack, a shiver wracking her slender form. "Y' ok?"

"I will be." She rolled onto her other side, facing away from him, and he wondered how long she'd be angry with him.

He didn't have to wonder long as she huffed an exasperated sigh and rolled back to face him. She turned her pack over and tried to get comfortable, but he could see her struggle. He stubbed out his cigarette and pitched the butt off into the trees. When another few minutes passed, and she rolled onto her back, he knew she wouldn't be finding sleep any time soon.

Daryl frowned. She'd be useless for her turn at watch if she couldn't rest. Or at least that's what he tried telling himself as he set his crossbow down at his side. "What's wrong?"

"I can't sleep," she groaned.

He nudged her with his foot. "C'mere."

Carol shifted up on her elbows to look at him warily. "What?"

He spread his legs and patted the ground between them. "C'mon … Y' can lean back on me. Y' been usin' me for a pillow since y' moved in with me an' Merle. Might help y' relax."

It wouldn't help him in the slightest, and from the rosy tint of her cheeks she probably wouldn't accept his offer, but he could afford to be a little selfless for her comfort.

She rubbed nervously at the back of her neck. "You wouldn't mind?"

"Wouldn't've offered if I did." She crawled over to him and sat stiffly for a moment before leaning back against his chest. He tried so hard not to flinch, but couldn't quite manage it.

"Daryl …"

He yanked on the back of her shirt when she moved to sit up. "Stop … It's fine." It was true he quite enjoyed her touch. Hers and hers alone, but there was still that first moment of contact - where in his mind he expected pain - which still put him on edge. "Talk t' me."

Carol glanced up at him curiously. "What about?"

"I dunno," he said, chewing at his thumbnail as she wriggled around in an effort to get comfortable. "How 'bout y' tell what y' were doin' when it all went down?"

She chuckled, sighing as he reached over to spread the blanket over her. "It wasn't really all that different from any other day," she began. "School had just let out the week before, so Sophia needed to be picked up from swimming lessons." She turned her chin up to see him listening attentively. "She had signed up for lifeguard training."

"Ain't she kinda young?"

"It's never too early to learn how to save someone. And it gave her exposure to CPR training as well." She shook her head free of the cobwebs. "Anyway … I was driving back when the first reports came over the radio. Ed was waiting for us when we got home. He was watching the news and barked at me to pack some clothes and things I didn't want to leave without. He said we were going to leave immediately for the emergency shelters the government was setting up in Atlanta."

"And y' got hung up in th' traffic snarl before y' could make it," he finished for her. "That how y' met up with th' others? Y' didn't know Lori before that night?"

"No, why?"

Daryl shrugged and leaned his head back against the ancient oak. "Y'all just seem close. Like you've known her longer, I guess."

"Sometimes when you experience something traumatic, it can form a bond. I really don't know. She has her moments, but I do enjoy her friendship. And our children are quite close too, which gives us something else in common."

Daryl shifted, tucking the blanket around her shoulder as she settled her head beneath his chin. His gaze darted among the surrounding trees as silence fell between them.

"What about you?" she asked, letting her heavy eyes droop closed. She loved the low sound of his voice, and hoped he'd share his own story to help lull her to sleep. "What were you doing when it happened?"

Daryl snorted. "I'd just gotten off work, an'-"

She tried to stifle a yawn. "Where did you work?"

He clucked his tongue at the interruption. He didn't feel comfortable sharing his own story, but he didn't think it would be fair not to. She would understand and wouldn't judge him. "D'you want t' hear this or not?"

"I do! I was just curious is all," she said with a teasing smile. "I just want to know more about you, Daryl."

He gave a doubtful hum. "I used t' work at th' garage on Chestnut over in Newnan. Y' know it?" She shook her head. "Worked there because people hadn't heard th' name Dixon an' didn't know of th' reputation that goes with it."

Carol jerked her head up, frowning. "Oh, come on," she scoffed. "Anyone can see -"

"Jus' who I am with everyone but you." He gave her a pointed look which dared her to argue. She was the only person he knew who saw more than what he was. If she kept at it, eventually he might begin to believe it. Maybe.

"You are a good man, Daryl … I don't care what you say to the contrary."

"Merle isn't … or wasn't. Given different circumstances, it wouldn't be hard t' slip back into what he was. An' my daddy was th' worst of us all. Th' reputation was well deserved. Figured it'd jus' be easier t' find a job where I had a chance t' -"

"To just be yourself." Carol turned where she was lying on her side against him, so she could wrap her arms about his waist. He drew his right knee up to rest against her back and he took comfort from the embrace, the lump in his throat easing.

"Yeah … Anyway, I was s'posed t' meet up with Merle at The Kegger. That's th' bar 'bout a block from Marty's place. I caught th' news report on TV. People there were freakin' out. So, Merle comes in, and he's draggin' me outta there back t' our shithole apartment t' pack up some gear." His stomach churned violently and had him hoping his dinner wouldn't make an encore appearance. "I thought he was jus' high, or what I'd seen on TV was some kinda hoax an' he was panickin' for nothin'."

Carol nodded, her short-cropped hair rubbing pleasantly against the scruff on his chin. "High? As in -"

"High, as in stoned on whatever drugs he had in his stash, Carol." He looked away, not wanting to see disapproval in her crystalline gaze. She and Merle were friends too, and he didn't want to ruin that. Yet he wasn't going to lie or gloss over the truth. "I couldn't jus' leave 'im, not when he was actin' like a ravin' lunatic. So, I packed up our campin' gear. Figured if nothin' else, I could drag 'is ass out t' th' woods for a week an' sober him up. Done it more than once. But then he gets this wild hair … wants t' go check on th' old man."

He snorted. "Blood's blood, boy, he says. Knew if I didn't go with 'im, he'd take off on 'is own." Daryl's voice lowered as the events of that night replayed in his mind. "We tracked 'im down at our uncle's place. Drew was sick already with that high ass fever. Wasn't bit or nothin', jus' sick. Stuff had to be airborne or somethin' and he just caught it, y'know?"

Carol hummed thoughtfully. "It makes you wonder how it all got started."

"Prob'ly some government experiment in germ warfare," he scoffed. "Asshole politicians don't know when t' leave well enough alone."

"I'm sure they're tucked away somewhere in a hidden bunker eating caviar and waiting it out."

"Hope all them fuckers rot," he sneered. "So anyway, Merle's tryin' to tell the old man Drew cain't be saved. O' course, he don't wanna hear it. Stubborn bastard."

"He stayed?" Carol asked, sending him a cautious glance from beneath her lashes as she began to trail her fingers over his side soothingly.

"Yeah. I dragged Merle outta there, tellin' 'im we needed t' go, but he said we couldn't just leave Jackson there. He was blood an' y' just don't run out on fam'ly." His voice took on a cold edge he could feel in the marrow of his bones. "Both of 'em liked t' preach that shit, but it never stopped either o' them from runnin' out on y' when shit got rough."

Carol bit her lip to stem the tears burning at the back of her eyes for the pain he must've felt. "Daryl … You don't-"

He cut her off with a shake of his head. "Naw, lemme finish. We're arguin' there out in the yard, an' we hear Jackson howl … most gawd awful sound I ever heard … an' Merle takes off back inside. Th' only thing I could figure was Drew was dead an' the old man was greivin'. I didn't want no part o' that shit. Merle musta stayed in there for a good twenty minutes more, tryin' t' get th' old man t' come with us. He jus' wouldn't leave Drew.

"Next thing I know, Merle's yellin' for me. Ain't never heard m' brother sound like that, Carol … like he was terrified or somethin'. I ran back in the house t' find my uncle … " Daryl took a shuddering breath, his features contorting into a pained grimace. "Drew's got 'is teeth buried in Jackson's neck, just tearin' into 'im like he was a fuckin' T-bone steak. Merle pulled 'im off, an' Drew turned on 'im. I had t' put 'im down … ain't had a choice. Couldn't let 'im eat Merle too. That's when I ain't had no choice but t' believe all th' crazy shit they were reportin' on TV."

"What about your father?"

"He'd already bled out. Drew musta nicked th' artery." He scrubbed a hand over his face and averted his gaze. He didn't want Carol to see just how affected he was by what he'd had to go through. "I found a shovel an' sent Merle out t' get started on th' graves. Didn't want 'im t' have t' watch me put th' old man down. Jackson was a first-rate abusive bastard, but he was still our father."

"I'm so sorry, Daryl," Carol whispered softly, giving him a gentle squeeze.

"Merle still blames 'imself for not makin' Jackson come with us, an' all I can think about is how I'm glad, Carol. I'm glad he's dead an' ain't gonna be houndin' me every step o' th' way. Shit's hard enough."

She brought her hand up slowly, cautiously, to his cheek, her thumb catching a tear he hadn't even realized had fallen. "He hurt you badly … didn't he?"

Daryl wrapped his fingers loosely over her wrist, his thumb ghosting over the faint tracery of veins there beneath her delicate skin. "Story time's over. Go t' sleep."

Carol sighed as he tucked her hand beneath the blanket to rest over his heart. He'd gone out of his way to make her comfortable and then to share something with her he'd rather just forget. He had nothing left in him to give and she wouldn't push. She couldn't ask for more … not now. "Goodnight, Daryl."

"G'nite."

*.*.*

Sophia giggled as her friend cursed and then glanced around to make sure his mother was nowhere within hearing distance. "It's not fair," Carl whined. "I do a lot better when Merle's giving us lessons."

"You're just overthinking it, Carl. 'Sides, they oughtta be back soon, right?" Sophia didn't want to let on just how worried she was.

Merle wasn't just one of the brothers who'd saved her and her mom from Ed. He was her best friend. She could tell him things she couldn't trust even Carl to keep a secret or that she wasn't comfortable sharing with the boy. She missed him terribly and worried the later it got and he still hadn't returned from the Atlanta run.

Carl slipped his arm around Sophia's shoulders, trying to comfort her. He didn't like the little furrows in her brow or the way her lips pressed tightly together as if she were going to cry. "Hey … You wanna go up on top and play cards or something?" he asked, nodding to the RV.

"Dale's busy, and you know he doesn't like us to be up there alone," she reminded him.

"This sucks," the boy hissed. "We gotta be watched like a couple of babies all because your dad's a -"

"Carl Grimes, I'd rethink the words stuck behind your teeth if I were you," came his mother's scolding reply. "C'mon, you two and we'll go down to the lake to wash up before dinner."

Sophia crossed her arms over her chest, hugging herself. "Yes ma'am."

"Is Sophia spending the night again if Merle ain't back?" Carl asked as Lori led them to her tent for soap and towels.

"Of course. I promised Carol she could stay."

Sophia smirked. "He'll be back before Mom and Daryl, I'm sure." If he wasn't, they'd both be in hot water. Merle for leaving and Sophia for talking him into it. It didn't matter that she'd convinced him to go along to help protect the group … Daryl would be pissed, and her mom would probably steal Shane's handcuffs to chain her to her side. Ugh!

"You think the group'll bring back some good stuff from Atlanta, Mom?" Carl asked, taking a bundle of clean clothes from her.

"I hope -"

Sophia startled at what sounded like sirens echoing off the walls of the quarry. She dropped her burden, Carl grabbing her hand and dashing from the tent. Lori called after them, but the children paid her no heed in their race towards the RV.

Dale stood atop the vehicle, rifle slung over his shoulder and a pair of binoculars held to his face. Amy stood next to Shane below, wringing her hands. "What is it? Is it them? Are they back?"

"Stolen car would be my best bet," he called down.

Lori caught up to the children, wrapping a protective arm around them both as the red Challenger pulled to a stop next to Shane's jeep. "Y'all can't just run off like that!" she scolded, but they weren't paying her the least bit of attention.

Glenn hopped out of the car, instantly bombarded with questions from the overwrought blonde. "Where are they? Where's my sister … is she alive?"

Shane had him pop the hood, so he could disconnect the battery and silence the alarm. "Where are the others?" he asked, his fingers still tight around the shotgun he held at his side.

"They're coming. They weren't too far behind me," the kid explained.

Sophia studied them all as Lori held her and Carl back from getting in the way. Why was Glenn so anxious? And where were the others? Her hand reached up to toy with the strap of the quiver which crossed her chest. Where was Merle?

A large cube van pulled in to park behind the white church van, and Sophia could only assume the rest of the group was inside, but she couldn't force herself to relax … not until she could see with her own eyes Merle was safe.

Keep yer cool, Peach. Don't matter how scared y' are …cain't let people see yer emotions. They'll take advantage, use 'em against y'. Always be in control o' yerself. Trust ol' Merle. I know what I'm talkin' about.

She schooled her features into a serene expression, though she was poised to run at the first sight of him. Her heart hammered in her little chest as the group began to climb from the back of the van.

Andrea ran to her sister, who nearly collapsed in relief. Morales was reunited with his wife and children, and Jacqui received a friendly hug from Jim. Dale shook hands with T-Dog, but there was no sign of the eldest Dixon.

"Mom, where's Merle?" Carl asked, putting voice to Sophia's fear.

Then Hector Morales called to a stranger, urging him to come and meet the rest of the group. Sophia could only guess as to where they'd picked him up. Carl tensed beside her, his face wreathed in smiles, and Lori gasped as the color drained from her face. Her friend was off and running before his mother could grab him back, shouting, "Dad!" at the top of his lungs.

Wait, she thought, Carl's dad had died. Or so he'd told her. And now she had to accept the cold truth … Merle hadn't come back with them.

She was alone. Even Lori had temporarily abandoned her in order to run and greet her husband. Her hard-won control over her emotions fled in an instant and she felt the dam of tears break free. "Where is he?" Sophia howled, turning her angry gaze at Glenn as she ran at him. "Where's Merle!?"

Shane caught her about the waist and she struggled in his grasp, demanding answers. Glenn knelt before her, his mouth twisted up into a grimace. "Sophia, calm down, baby girl," Shane said gently.

"I'll calm down when he tells me where Merle is!" she screeched.

"There was a problem, Soph. Merle was out of control … he and T got into a fight and Rick had to handcuff him to a pipe on the roof," Glenn explained.

Sophia heaved a choked sob as T-Dog came to stand with Glenn. "You left him there!? How could you do that? I asked him to go to help keep you safe, and this is how you treat him!?"

"It was an accident, Sophia," T-Dog murmured remorsefully. "When we were ready to leave, I went back to free him, but I tripped and dropped the keys in a drain. I'm sorry."

She stared at him incredulously. "You couldn't have picked the lock?" She jerked free of Shane's grasp and sneered at all of them. "You have to go back for him," she stated crossing her arms and lifting her chin stubbornly.

"Sophia, it's nearly sunset and that place is crawling with geeks," Glenn said, shaking his head.

"That's no excuse!" she hissed. "You have to go back! He can't stay there … Please!"

Rick came to stand beside her, his arm still wrapped around Carl. "What's going on here?"

Sophia shot him a venomous glare. "You left my friend on a roof," she accused. She sneered at the uniform he wore. "You're a cop, yet you left him behind. Would you have done that if it had been one of the others?"

"I-"

She didn't give him a chance to defend himself. "You wouldn't have. You'd have figured out a way to get everyone out. Now he's alone, probably thinking he's going to die." Her lower lip trembled as a fresh wave of tears washed over her ashen cheeks. "He's my family and you left him!"

Sophia stared at them all, hatred turning her eyes an icy blue. She spun on her heel, unable to stand being there in their midst a moment longer and ran for the Dixon's campsite. Having no one to protect her was the least of her problems. She'd carve up the first person who thought to invade the privacy of her tent. As she laid down on her bedroll, both her bow and her knife at her side, she could only pray Daryl would hurry and return. She needed her mom … she needed both the brothers, her family. Finally, she closed her eyes and allowed herself to give in to her pain.

*.*.*

Shane leaned wearily against the log next to the Dixon campsite and rubbed at the bridge of his nose. It was late, but the sounds of Sophia's sobs had only recently subsided. He could only guess she'd fallen asleep. She'd refused to come out of the tent, had been quite adamant when she'd told everyone to piss off. The little minx had even gone so far as to use something - wire Merle kept handy, no doubt - to rig the flap where it could only be opened from the inside. They weren't getting her out unless they took a knife to the canvas, and no one wanted to face Daryl's wrath when he returned.

Shane sighed and shook his head. It was going to be bad enough when the hunter found out about his brother being left to die on a rooftop in Atlanta. He let his gaze wander sullenly to the communal campfire where Rick sat surrounded by his family. Of all the people it could have been to step out of that truck, Rick Grimes was not who he'd been expecting. He'd still been in a coma when the hospital had fallen, first to walkers, and then to the military who'd been charged with clearing the area. He'd witnessed firsthand that slaughter. He shouldn't have survived.

He'd tried … Fuck knew he'd tried to get him out. Rick was his best friend, for fuck's sake. Of course, he'd tried. It had nearly destroyed him to have to tell Lori and Carl that Rick was dead. What a clusterfuck! Rick had spun some tale about how he'd woken up, alone, scared and without a clue as to what had happened to the world. He'd been taken in by a man and his son who'd helped him with his recovery and sent him on his way. The former police officer had more luck than sense.

Shane swiped a hand over his face and settled the shotgun more comfortably across his legs as he stretched. Ed sat in his lawn chair across the path, giving him the stink eye. The bastard was probably just waiting to catch Sophia alone. He jumped about a foot when Rick stepped out of the shadows.

"Damn, man, 'bout scared me to death," he said, taking a labored breath. "What you doin' up here?"

"Came to find you." Rick sat down next to him. "We haven't really had a chance to talk since I got here," he spoke quietly. "I wanted to say thank you … thank you for taking care of my family, for getting them out."

Shane shrugged. "You'd have done the same for me."

"Yeah, I would." He wiped his hands on his borrowed jeans. "Pretty good setup here. Y'all meet everyone up on the highway? I believe that's what Lori said."

"After Atlanta was bombed, we just got as many people together as we could and took to the hills. Ain't had no other choice. Had to do right by them, get them to safety."

Rick nodded. "So, what's the story with the little girl? She Dixon's daughter?" he asked. Lori hadn't elaborated about the scene earlier, and neither had anyone else.

Shane snorted. "Man, this place ain't nothing but a damn soap opera. So much drama, we should charge admission."

"How so?"

"See the big guy over there?" He pointed over at Ed. "That's Sophia's daddy. Carol's her mom, but she ain't here right now. She's on a hunting trip with Daryl. They should've been back today, but it's not unusual for Daryl to hunt for days at a time. Anyway, Ed's a foul fuck … Likes to beat on women and children, particularly his wife. Well, 'bout a week ago, their little fight spilled out of their tent, and Daryl took exception to it. Shot ol' Ed in the ass with his crossbow and took Carol and Sophia away from him. Merle and Daryl pretty well domesticated themselves. Done right by those two at least. They're a couple of hardasses, but they have a healthy respect for Carol and her daughter. Ed ain't got a snowball's chance in hell of hurting them again while they're under the Dixon's protection."

Rick covered his mouth with one hand as he shot a look of ill-disguised horror at his friend. "And I left her self-appointed protector handcuffed on a roof. That why you're up here watching over her?"

Shane tilted his head to the side, his gaze lost in the flames of the small campfire. "It's gonna be hard enough to explain to Daryl about Merle. I don't want to have to tell him we left Sophia unprotected."

"He really that bad?"

"Man, lemme tell you what you can expect from Daryl Dixon … He's either going to try to slit your throat with that buck knife he totes around with him, or he'll shoot you in the ass with his crossbow,"

Rick laughed. "Oh, c'mon. You're pulling my leg."

Only Shane didn't so much as crack a smile. "Better watch your back, brother. Daryl ain't the kind of man you want as your enemy. There ain't no law anymore, no cops, no jail, and it's his type that'll survive in this new world and come out as the last man standing. And from what I can see … you gonna be at the very top of his shit list."