Chapter Thirty-Two

Lori was hunched over in her chair when Carol poked her head into Shane's sickroom. She glanced down at Carl who wore the same worried expression as his parents. "See, I told you we'd find her here. Dad stayed with Shane last night, so I knew Mom would be with him this morning," the boy whispered, not wanting to disturb his mother's rest.

Carol wasn't the least surprised to find the Grimes family holding vigil over their friend. "Alright, enough is enough," she said, arching a brow at Lori as she jerked awake. "When's the last time you've eaten?" She went to stand beside her friend and wrinkled her nose. "Or showered for that matter?"

The brunette blinked up at her. "Um … yesterday?"

"Up … out of that chair, now," Carol ordered a bit brusquely, but she knew the other women quite well by now, and a firm hand was needed.

"I can't. It's my turn to watch over him," she argued. "What if I step out and he wakes up … or needs something?"

"Carl's going to take a shift while you eat and get cleaned up. Remember Carl? Your son?"

"Hi, Mom!" the boy chirped.

Lori gaped at them both, feeling as if she were the victim of an unwanted intervention. "Carol, I –"

"No buts. Move it," she demanded.

Lori had no choice but to obey. "You're being a pushy bitch; I'll have you know."

Carol grinned unrepentantly and gave her friend a shove towards the door. Before they left, she turned to wink at Carl. "If there's the slightest change, run to get Hershel and then find your mom, ok?"

"I got this."

Carol led Lori to the kitchen where Beth and Patricia were cleaning up from their breakfast. "We're not intruding, are we?"

Beth turned to her, a warm smile on her lips. "No, of course not."

"You know we'd be more than happy to cook for you one night to show our appreciation for allowing us to stay. Carol's an amazing cook," Lori said, returning the girl's smile.

"Really? 'Cause Maggie is the worst. Tonight would be great since it's her turn to cook," Patricia smirked.

Lori laughed for the first time in days. "Tonight would be fine."

Carol arched a brow at her friend. "I suppose I deserved that, but you know I don't mind." She could see the three chickens in the sink ready to be plucked. "I'll even let you help me."

"Gee thanks."

Her teasing died away, and she reached out to wrap her arm around Lori's shoulders. "How is he? Has there been any change?"

Rick's wife shook her head. "No. Hershel has done all he can, but Shane's going to have to wake up on his own. There's only so much antibiotics and pain killers can accomplish." She lowered her voice. "I think he's keeping him medically sedated until he's through the worst of it. All we need is for him to wake up and start thrashing around. There's a chance he might rip out some of those stitches Hershel had to use inside."

"From what I've seen and heard," Carol said, "he seems to be a good Christian man. Trust him to know what he's doing, Lori. And pray, but you can't neglect yourself."

Carol left her at the table and retrieved the plate of eggs and bacon Beth had left covered on the stove for her. The woman dug in with relish, not having realized how truly hungry she'd been.

"How are you?" Lori asked, downing half the glass of juice Carol had poured for her. "I thought you'd be out searching with Daryl."

Carol shot her a loaded look. "He asked me to stay in camp today. He borrowed one of Hershel's horses, and if he finds Sophia, all three of us wouldn't have been able to ride back together."

Lori snorted. "And you're buying that load of bull?"

She shook her head. "Of course not. Daryl's worried about me, thinks I'm letting my fear affect my health. And no matter what assurances I might give him … he won't listen."

The brunette grinned and pushed her plate aside. "Has he told you yet?"

"Told me what?" Carol asked quizzically.

"That he loves you."

She shook her head. "Lori –"

"Have you told him?"

"Lori –"

"Gawd! Seems like he's not the only mule-headed person in this relationship."

Carol blushed and glanced down at her hands.

"Have you, um … y'know?"

"Had sex with him?" Carol smirked. "No."

The brunette's shoulders slumped, and a little pout formed on her lips. "Why the hell not? It's obvious to anyone with eyes that you love each other. What's the hold up?"

Carol was beginning to feel uncomfortable. "We're taking it slow. It's me," she said dejectedly. "After years of Ed's abuse … I just don't know if I can be physical with Daryl. I'm just now trying to sort through how I feel when he kisses me. What if we get really into it and I freeze up?"

It was Lori's turn to offer her friend comfort, slipping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her in for a hug. "Oh, honey, I'm sorry. But you listen to me. We can all see how he feels for you. Those kinds of feelings don't just go away if you can't have sex. They run too deep. I have a feeling Daryl will wait for you."

Carol chuckled, wiping a tear away from her cheek. "Look at us! I dragged you out here to see about you, and you end up letting me whine on your shoulder."

"That's what friends are for, Carol."

*.*.*

A scream rent the air, forcing his muddled mind to return to the land of the living. "Damnit, Merle, lemme 'lone. Miserable bastard!" He felt his brother nudge his foot again, and he was glad he had worn his heavy work boots that morning. A growl. That wasn't Merle. His brother had never made that sound before. That was … "Fuckin' hell!"

Daryl scrambled back away from the walker who apparently had a taste for shoe leather, his hands frantically searching at his sides for his crossbow. Unable to find it, he reached for his knife. The geek abandoned his foot and lurched forward, fumbling for a tastier morsel when its head exploded, spraying Daryl with brain matter. It fell on him, and he turned his head away from the gruesome sight of the arrow protruding from its face as he struggled to push it off of him. He rolled the rotten thing to the side and shakily climbed to his feet in time to see Sophia take aim and put another walker down for good.

He limped forward, gaping at her, and then she was running across the wet sand and launching herself into his arms, crying more than he'd ever seen her weep since he'd known her. He stifled a cry of pain as her knee bumped against the arrow still embedded in his side. He didn't care in the least about his wound, or having just faced the prospect of dying. Their little girl was safely wrapped in his arms, clinging to him with nary a thought of ever letting him go.

Daryl simply held her and let her cry, much as he was used to holding her mother, his relief in having found her – or she having found him … whatever – bringing him a sense of peace. He hadn't failed.

Sophia sniffled and rubbed her nose on the back of her grungy sleeve as she leaned back to look up at him. "I'm sorry."

"Gawd, girl! What th' hell y' got t' be sorry about?" he asked incredulously.

"I shouldn't have run away," she argued. "I should have tried to run to you instead of taking off into the woods, but I really thought I'd be able to find my way back." Her eyes widened as she shifted her weight on his lap and her knee brushed against his wound. "Oh my god, Daryl, what happened to you?"

Daryl winced as she climbed off his lap to sit beside him on the sand. He looked up at the wall of the ravine and nodded. "Horse threw me," he pointed, "from up there. One o' my bolts came loose from th' quiver an' got me."

"That's got to come out. You're never going to be able to make the climb like that," she protested, pulling her pack from her back. "I got a first aid kit. Should have some gauze and some paper tape in here to get you fixed up enough until we get back to the road and Mama can have a look at you."

She would never cease to amaze him. After the water works, she was back to being the brave little spitfire she'd become after he'd taken her and Carol away from Ed. "Sophia, stop. Look at me," he commanded. He cringed as those bright blue eyes rose to meet his, so filled with barely concealed fear it stole his breath. "Y' don't have to pretend with me, y'know. It's ok t' be scared."

"No, it's not. Being scared'll only do one thing … get me killed."

What the hell had Merle done to the girl, he wondered. "Merle tell y' that shit?" In fact, he could remember his brother telling him something similar years ago. "Because it's not true. It's ok t' be afraid, jus' don't let it freeze y' up. You're safe now with me. Y' don't have t' do this alone no more."

The girl took a deep shuddering breath and wiped another tear from her face, but she looked better, less terrified and more herself. She even mustered up a brave smile for him. "Alright, take off that nasty shirt and let me fix you up a bit."

He snorted. "Have y' seen yourself lately? Y' look like a walker y' so filthy."

Sophia wrinkled her nose. "Yeah, and I know I smell like one too."

Daryl pushed her matted hair back from her brow, so he could have a better look at her. "Y' wanna tell me what happened?" he asked gently.

The girl sighed as she went to the creek and dipped her hands into the water to wash them. Only when she settled back at his side with her supplies and began to inspect his wound did she speak. "That's gotta come out, Daryl. I can't do anything with that arrow in there."

"Fuck," he cursed, knowing he didn't have an alternative. He waited until she'd balled up what remained of his shirt and pressed it to his skin, ready to bear down and stop the bleeding as soon as he pulled the bolt free. "Get ready. On three …" He sucked in a deep breath. "One … two … fuck it." He stopped hesitating and ripped the shaft from his side. "Sum'bitch!"

Sophia frowned at him, not liking it a bit that he'd jumped the gun. She was on him in an instant as he collapsed back onto the sand, applying pressure. "You ok? You're not going to pass out on me, are you?"

He shook his head furiously. "Naw … I'm good," he panted. "Now quit stalling and tell me what happened when you ran from the road."

"There's not really much to tell, Daryl. I ran away like a coward. Merle would be so disappointed in me. I'm actually kinda glad he wasn't here to see it."

Daryl glared at her. "Stop that shit right now. Merle cares about y', an' let me tell y' … Merle don't give a shit about nobody but Merle." He hissed as she pulled out a bottle of alcohol and doused his wound. "Tell me somethin' … could y' have fired your bow?"

She shook her head disapprovingly at his attitude for his brother, but replied nonetheless. "No, they were too close."

"Then y' did what y' were taught t' do. Y' ran. Better than stayin' and dyin'."

"Yeah, well … I got far enough away to take one down with my bow. The other one wasn't quite so easy. He got too close, and I tripped," she admitted, blushing in embarrassment. "I don't think I've ever been that scared in my life. Then I remembered my knife and I stabbed him in the eye." She concentrated on applying some antibiotic ointment into the hole the arrow had left in his side, and then pressed a thick wad of gauze over it. "I'll probably never get all the blood out of my hair."

"I'm sure your ma will help y' with that," he grinned.

"She must be so mad at me," Sophia whispered, her chest tight thinking of what her mother must be going through. "Is she ok?"

"Carol's fine. I promised her I'd be bringin' y' home today." He tilted her chin up. "An' she ain't mad, jus' very worried."

"Then it's a good thing I found you," she snarked, grinning smugly. "And saved you."

He narrowed his eyes at her. "Don't get cocky. Y' get too overconfident, it makes y' careless," he warned, though really she had every right to be proud of herself. "Y' really take out that walker up close with y' knife?"

Sophia pulled his stained shirt down over the bandage and nodded. "Yeah." She shuddered as she remembered the feeling of her knife sliding into its dead flesh. "Then I puked."

He ruffled her hair. "Y' did good, kid. An' thanks for patchin' me up. Glad I have some antibiotics stashed away," he muttered to himself. "So, how'd y' end up down here anyway? Me an' your ma found th' trail o' breadcrumbs y' been leavin'."

Sophia reached for her pack and pulled out two granola bars and a bottle of water, offering one to Daryl. "I couldn't think of anything else to do. I knew I'd gotten turned around when I didn't find the highway after a couple of hours. So, I started leaving little things behind. I was practically stomping through the mud, so I could leave a clear trail instead of hiding my tracks like Merle showed me." She paused to chew for a moment before looking back at him. "First night I found a hollow log. Never thought I'd get all the bugs outta my clothes. Next night I found this farmhouse. I crashed hard that night."

"I can imagine."

"Last night I found this cave. It's not very big, but it was enough where I could lay down and sleep for a few hours." She chugged half the bottle of water and handed the rest to Daryl. "I'm just so ready to go home, Daryl. I don't want to sound like a whiny baby, but I want my mom."

Daryl stuffed the bottle and granola wrappers back into her pack and levered himself to his feet. "She misses you too, Soph. She's been goin' crazy with y' missin'." Those big blue eyes turned up to his and he smiled. "We been searchin' for y' every day. Had t' practically tie Carl t' a tree t' make him stay back at th' farm."

They were slowly making their way over to the base of the incline. "The farm?"

"Right … y' wouldn't know about that. Shane was shot by a guy out huntin', an' Rick took him t' this farm t' get fixed up. Guy who owns it is a doctor or somethin'."

"Is he dead?" she asked with wide eyes.

Daryl shook his head. "Naw, not yet. Rick said it was touch an' go. They jus' waitin' t' see if he's gonna wake up."

Sophia stared up at the climb they'd have to make. "Ok," she said, taking a deep breath. "We can do this."

Daryl stared down at her, taking her measure. She really was a remarkable girl. "It ain't gonna be easy, kid. Here," he handed her his knife, "take this."

"Why? I have my own," she frowned, removing her own knife from her belt.

"Because with a knife in each hand, y' can stab them into the soil and use them as leverage t' pull yourself up."

She caught on quickly, but she was still showing signs of worry. "What about you?"

"Y' don't worry about me. Jus' get your ass t' th' top, so we can get back t' your mama."

*.*.*

Carol slid the large roaster full of rosemary chicken into the oven, and leaned back against the counter. Her muscles ached, but her mind was clear. Lori had helped her that morning with the chores before she'd relieved Carl and took a shift watching over Shane. The laundry was done and hanging on the makeshift lines Dale had hung for them, dinner was in the oven, and she'd even gone out to help Patricia feed the chickens. She'd done everything she could think of to keep her mind from wandering to what Daryl might have found out in the woods.

The search teams had wandered in several hours ago, empty-handed. Carol appreciated their efforts, but none of them were skilled trackers like Daryl. If her daughter would ever be found, he would be the one to do it. Her gaze wandered to the back door, her eyes searching the tree line past the back yard.

"Why don'tcha go on out and take a walk, Carol," Maggie suggested as she set a sandwich in front of Glenn. "The chicken has what … an hour in the oven?"

Carol smiled at them both. She hadn't missed the longing glances the boy was giving Maggie when he thought she wasn't looking. "You wouldn't mind keeping an eye on it?"

"'Course not," Maggie grinned. "You saved me from dinner duty tonight. You're my new best friend."

"If you're sure?"

Glenn set his sandwich down. "Daryl should be back soon. You work so hard as it is, Carol, you could use the break. Go on out and wait for him."

Carol nodded and headed out the back door and around the side of the house, taking her time as she approached the camp. It wouldn't be dark for another four hours, and she really couldn't see him returning before then, but it was nice to be out in the fresh air and sunshine without the constant threat of walkers interrupting her solitude. She wandered into the shade of the RV, still lost in thought when she heard a voice from above.

"Hey, stranger!" Andrea called.

Carol squinted up at her. "What're you doing up there? Dale let you take watch?"

The blonde nodded. "Yeah, I'm just a bit tired of laundry. I want to help protect the camp."

"Look, I wanted to thank you for going out this morning to help search for Sophia. It means a lot to me."

Andrea's features softened as she looked down at her friend. "Carol, we all love Sophia. She's a great kid … a tough kid. I know she's out there hanging on just waiting for us to find her."

"Thanks, Andrea. You don't know what that means to me to hear you say that."

Andrea smiled sadly, trying to think of something to change the subject. She really hated what her friend was going through. "Hey, how'd you manage to hold on to your guns? Hershel told Rick this morning he didn't want any of us packing."

Carol snorted, squinting off into the distance as she shielded her eyes against the late afternoon sun. "Maybe because the second I tried to hand them over to Rick, Daryl threw a fit. He snatched my belt out of my hands and put it back on me. He said if he wasn't going to be here to protect me, I was going to be able to protect myself. Rick wasn't happy about it, but he's trying to get along with Daryl and decided not to force the issue."

"At least Dixon has your best interests in mind." Andrea wouldn't admit she was a bit angry at having to turn over her own weapon. She followed Carol's gaze out across the field and tensed, rising from the lawn chair she'd been sitting in atop the RV. "Walker!" she yelled, drawing everyone's attention.

"Are you sure, Andrea?" Carol asked, unable to see anything clearly with the sun in her eyes.

Rick and Dale came running. "How many?"

"Just one," the blonde replied, raising the binoculars to her face. She dropped them to pick up the rifle lying next to her. "I bet I can nail it from here."

Glenn, having heard Andrea's cry, came running from the house, stopping long enough by the tent he shared with T-Dog to fetch a machete. T was right behind him. "We can handle this," the boy said.

"No, Hershel said he wanted to deal with walkers," Rick hedged.

T grabbed a baseball bat. "C'mon, man, it's just the one. We got this."

Rick cursed as he retrieved his Colt from the RV and followed the others out into the field.

Carol felt a chill raise the fine hairs on her nape. Something wasn't right. Why would one lone walker venture onto the property when the ones she'd seen lately were moving in groups?

"Wait!" Andrea yelled. "There's another! Just came out of the trees behind the first one!"

Dale began climbing the ladder at the back of the RV for a better look. "I don't think he heard you, Andrea. Carol! Where are you going?! Get back here!" he shouted after her, but she refused to stop.

Andrea laid down flat atop the RV, bringing the rifle up, sighting through the scope as she cocked the weapon.

"Andrea, don't," Dale warned, still unsure. "You don't even know if it's walkers. It could be someone looking for help. Don't do this!"

"Back off, Dale!" she snapped.

Carol didn't look back, hoping her friend listened to Dale and wouldn't shoot until they could get closer. Her legs burned as she pushed for speed, easily catching up with the others. Her heart pounded, and the air burned in her lungs as she caught sight of … "Sophia!" Nothing could have stopped her from tearing across that field. Tears streamed over her face, cooling on her cheeks, as a bright smile curled her daughter's lips.

"Mama!"

She ran past Rick who had stopped to point the Colt at Daryl. Her arms wrapped about her daughter, weeping hysterically as they both tumbled to the ground.

Daryl sneered at Rick. "That's the third time you've pointed that thing at my head. Y' gonna pull th' trigger or what?"

"You leave him alone!" Sophia cried, struggling out of her mother's embrace to her knees.

Before either she or Carol could rise, a shot rang out. "No!" Carol screamed, crawling over to Daryl and cradling his head in her lap, fresh tears of dread filling her eyes. "No!"

Daryl groaned, bringing a hand up to his temple where the bullet had grazed him. "I was fuckin' kiddin'!"

Carol held on tighter as Sophia moved to his other side, leaning over him in a protective stance. "What the hell?" the girl yelled, glaring at the men standing around them.

"Andrea thought he was a walker," Rick offered lamely.

"And you gave her a gun!?"

Carol held her tongue for now, though she'd have a few words for her friend when they got back to camp. "Come on, help me get him up. Hershel needs to have a look at him."

"What the hell happened out there?" Glenn asked, taking one of Daryl's arms as Rick took the other.

"It's a long story," Sophia said wearily.

Andrea and Dale came running across the field, her horrified expression not enough to quell Sophia's anger. "Oh, my god … Oh, my god, is he dead?"

The girl glared at her mother's friend for a long moment and then hauled off and kicked her right in the knee. "You shot him! Why would you shoot him when he's never done anything but protect and provide?!"

"Sophia!" her mother admonished. "It was an accident." Her azure gaze was dark and menacing as she turned to the blonde. "Though it could have been avoided if she'd just listened when she was told NOT TO FIRE!"

"I'm so sorry!"

"He's not dead. You just grazed him, but Carol's right. You should have listened," Rick hissed.

"Carol …" Daryl moaned before succumbing to the welcoming arms of unconsciousness.

She wrapped an arm around Sophia's shoulders and pulled her daughter close as she followed them. "Hurry, Rick, he needs help.":

"Mama, it's not just his head. He took an arrow to the side and he fell a really long way down into the ravine," she explained. "I tried to patch him up best I could, but he needs a doctor."

"Is that why you two look like geeks," Glenn asked.

Sophia nodded. "Yeah. It's hell out there."

*.*.*

Hershel was none too happy when they returned to the house. "What the hell is going on? I told you there was to be no firearms near my house."

"It was an accident, Hershel. I'm sorry. It won't happen again," Rick apologized as the man led the group to an empty bedroom where they were able to lay Daryl down on the bed.

The farmer shook his head. "It's amazing you people have survived this long. Maggie, I need my kit. Patricia, hot water and bandages," he said as he began to roll up his sleeves.

Sophia pulled away from her mother and positioned herself near Daryl's head, taking a cloth her mother provided and holding it to the wound on his temple. "You going to be able to help him?" she asked, looking at Hershel for the first time. "Sir?"

The man looked up from examining the wound in the hunter's side and blinked at the girl. "I believe so. You must be Sophia," he said, smiling for the first time since they'd gotten back. "Don't worry, I'll do everything I can for your dad."

Sophia grinned at her mother, but held her tongue. A warmth spread through her chest as he called Daryl her father. Maybe dreams really did come true. She already saw Daryl as her dad, but it was a shock to the system to hear someone else refer to him as such.

Carol took the water from Patricia as she came in and set it on the night table next to the bed. She shed her leather jacket and reached for a cloth, wringing it out before she started cleaning the muck from Daryl's face.

Hershel glared a Rick when he noticed the woman's belt. "I'm not going to have guns in my house."

"Carol …" the redneck moaned, fighting his way back to consciousness.

"Carol, please? Just for now?" Rick asked, shooting her a pleading stare.

She nodded and handed him the belt. "Daryl's not going to be happy about it. You're going to explain it to him, though. I'm not going to argue. I'm more concerned with his wounds."

"Thank you."

He left to stash her weapons in the RV with the rest of their firepower, leaving her and Sophia alone with Hershel as they continued to work on Daryl. She turned to the doctor. "Hershel … thank you so much for helping him," she murmured. "I know you don't want us here, but I want you to know how much we appreciate your aid and hospitality."

"It's my Christian duty, one I will not ignore, but your leader needs to understand this is my land and his group needs to follow my rules."

Carol nodded. Daryl's eyes opened, and he winced as Hershel began to clean the wound in his side. "Sum'bitch!" he growled.

Sophia leaned over him. "It's ok!" she was quick to reassure him. "You're safe." She took his free hand and held it in hers, a mischievous gleam in her eyes. "… Dad."

He snorted, but didn't refute her claim. He groaned again as he met Carol's worried gaze. She was biting her lip again, and seemed to be unable to meet his eyes. "Woman … y' ok?"

She smiled, her lower lip trembling as she released it. "Yeah. Shh, we'll talk about it later. Just try to relax and let Hershel fix you up."

"G'on, Carol. I'm ok here. Y' take Sophia an' get her cleaned up." His head turned to look up at the girl. "She stinks."

Sophia scoffed. "Yeah … like you smell like you been laying in a flower bed."

His chuckle turned into a pained hiss. "See … toldja she was comin' home today."

Carol leaned over and ghosted a kiss across his lips before she ushered her daughter to the door. "I never doubted you, Daryl."

A/N: Yay! Sophia's home! *happy dance* Next time: Carl and Sophia reunite, Carol has a tearful reunion with her daughter, and Daryl earns a nickname. Lots of fluff :D Big buckets of love to all of you who have been reading this story and leaving your lovely wonderful comments and reviews!