"Georgia Rayne, come 'ere!" Georgia opened her eyes with a sigh and searched the tent. Daryl was standing by the flap, looking in on her and DJ, who was sleeping with his back to his mother's.

"What?" she whispered.

"We're gonna look at the picture album. Jus me an ya. 'mon."

"Did you just get off watch?"

"Yeah. Now 'mon. Wanna get in bed 'fore it gets too late."

Georgia sighed and unfolded herself from the sleeping bag. She kissed her sleeping son's head and silently followed Daryl out into the cool night air. She could feel the bite in the air growing harsher and harsher each night, slowly leading into the winter that nobody knew how to handle. Personally, she wanted to take DJ and move on as fast as she could manage, but she knew she could never do that to Daryl again. And he would never let her. If she left again, he would track her to the ends of the earth. There was no doubt in her mind about that.

Daryl settled by the small fire he kept going and clutched the little black album in his hand. He looked up at her and asked, "Cold?"

"It's not too bad."

"Get a fuckin' blanket then, dumbass. Mine's layin' near my shit. Grab it an get out here. Don' wanna be up all fuckin' night."

Georgia reached back in the tent and grabbed his blanket quickly, wrapping it around her shoulders and resisting the urge to inhale the scent that was Daryl Emmett Dixon. Leather, grease, sweat, blood, and forest. He smelled like the outdoors. He smelled like a man. She ignored it and sat next to him. He demanded, "Ain't no fuckin' 'barrassin' pictures in here, is there? None a my bare ass?"

"I've never taken pictures of your bare ass, Daryl. Why would I have that? And why would I put it in a photo album I planned to give my son?"

He stared at her, studying her face carefully before he grunted and opened it. The first picture floored him. It was simple. Just of him and Georgia when he was thirteen and she was twelve. They'd been fishing. She was wearing his camo hat and swatting at him as he tried to yank it back because Merle had just buzzed his hair and he wanted to hide it. Georgia smiled fondly and chuckled, "You threw me in the pond right after that picture was taken. I almost lost your hat in the process."

"Shoulda fuckin' taken the hat 'fore I threw ya in the damn water."

"But I didn't lose it. I swam after it."

"Bout near fuckin' drowned yerself tryin' to hold it an get back to the dock."

"I didn't want to put it on my head because I was scared to lose it again."

"Fuckin' crazy."

He turned the page quickly. There were several pages of pictures from their childhood. Georgia explained, "I wanted him to know that you were important to me before he was born. That you weren't just some boyfriend who knocked me up. I wanted him to know that you were a good man."

Daryl grunted and refused to meet her eyes, even though he could feel her gaze on the side of his face, burning into him. He turned the page quickly and the air left his lungs. There she was in that damn prom dress. That damn green dress that drove him up the wall that night. And there he was beside her, grimacing at the damn camera and trying to keep his arm around her waist. Below it, there was a picture of her smiling up at him, her head tilted back to look and her arms thrown around his neck. He wasn't smiling at her, but he wasn't glaring either. He was just staring. He never could get enough of looking at her. But he couldn't look at the picture. Instead, he turned the page quickly.

The entire album was full of pictures from their time together. From parties with him scowling at the camera that she was holding, to pictures of them in their tiny trailer. There were pictures of just him too. Pictures of him carrying shit into the trailer when they first moved in. Pictures of him reaching up in the cabinets to pull things down. A picture of him asleep on the couch, asleep on the porch in his lawn chair, asleep on their bed. Picture of him bent over the engine of his truck, working on Merle's motorcycle, Merle just barely visible in the corner of the picture, drinking a beer. A picture of him with her father, watching a football game one Thanksgiving.

"Whadja keep alluva 'em fer, Georgia Rayne?" Daryl asked quietly as he closed the album. It was around two in the morning and the dark around them was silent. They were sitting so close that their shoulders were pressed together and she was huddled under his blanket, staring at the fire.

"To show DJ," she answered blankly.

"Coulda showed him one or two an that woulda been fine. Ya got a whole fuckin' book a me an ya. Why?"

"I…"

"Don' fuckin' be lyin'," Daryl growled.

"I couldn't get rid of it," she blurted out. "When I left, I couldn't get rid of you. I didn't want to leave. I fought myself every day because I was a step away from turning back, from going to our trailer and climbing into bed with you and begging you to never let me go."

Daryl stared at her. She was looking away. Looking towards the woods. He asked, "Why didncha?"

"I was scared. I didn't know what would happen if I went back."

"Whadja mean?" Daryl's voice was soft.

"Daryl, your brother hit me. I was two months pregnant with DJ," Georgia said slowly, letting her eyes wander back to Daryl's. His eyes narrowed when she spoke, but she couldn't stop talking. "I fucking loved you, Daryl. I was in love with you, but I was terrified of what would happen to me if I lived with you. Merle was important to you, and I wasn't, and I couldn't be there."

"Are ya fuckin' kiddin' me? Are ya fuckin' stupid?" Daryl was trying to keep his voice low so he wouldn't wake up DJ, but his temper was rising quickly. "Fuckin' cared 'bout ya! Fuckin' wanted ya there! Fuckin' needed ya there an ya fuckin' left like everybody else ever did. Merle was fuckin' right 'bout ya."

Daryl jumped up quickly and pointed his finger in her face angrily. She rose up to and snarled, "I knew you since I was eleven years old, Daryl. We got together when I was seventeen years old! I was with you for three years before I had DJ. Three fucking years Daryl and the only thing you ever told me was that you were grateful that I was there. I spent every day hoping that you would tell me you loved me. And all you could ever say to me was, 'Thanks for doing laundry,' 'thanks for putting up with Merle,' 'dinner was good,' 'you cleaned good today,' or 'woman, glad you brought the beer home.' What did you want from me?"

"I wanted ya to be there when I woke up in the mornin'! Wanted ya to be there to eat dinner with me! Wanted ya to sleep with me at night an wake me up kissin' me like ya always did. Wanted ya to be the one holdin' the flashlight when I worked on cars. Wanted ya to be the one on the couch when I got home from work, teasin' me an rubbin' my shoulders fer me cause ya knew I was tired. I jus fuckin' needed ya to stay with me! Ya were the only person who got it! The only person who fuckin' understood an then ya fuckin' left me! Ya didn' even give me a chance to say sorry or a chance to see ya one last time. I went to yer house!"

"You told me it was my fault that Merle hit me!"

"I ain't sayin' he shoulda hit ya. I'm just sayin' that ya fuckin' hit him first. What did ya expect? Ya fuckin' knew how Merle was! I didn' want him to hit ya. I punched him in the fuckin' face fer it. But ya didn' know that cause ya weren' there an ya didn' come back!" Daryl's voice was slowly rising.

"I admit, I shouldn't have hit Merle, but you shouldn't have had his back when I needed you. But what's done is done. That photo album is what I'm showing DJ."

"We're. It's what we are showin' DJ. An we're fuckin' doin' it soon! I'm fuckin' done, Georgia Rayne!"

"Whatever, Daryl. I'm going back to sleep with my son. The one I left to protect! So I don't regret it because he's here and he's the greatest thing I've ever done!"

"Go the fuck to bed, ya dumbass woman!"

"Stupid ass redneck!"

She turned on her heel and stomped off towards the tent. It took him an hour to realize that she'd told him she loved him. Then, when he went to the tent to sleep for a few hours, he realized she was still wrapped in his blanket, sleeping with her face burrowed into it and her hand on the shoulder of their son, making sure she didn't lose him in the night. Daryl stared at her for a long minute before laying on his side of the tent, wrapping a flannel shirt around himself, and falling asleep. When he woke up the next morning, the blanket was stretched across him and she was nowhere to be found.