It was hours later, after beating information about the men in his group raping those two girls, that Daryl finally managed to get out of the shed and went straight to the RV where DJ was sitting on top with Glenn. He called up, "DJ, 'mon down here. Ya still wanna learn to use the crossbow?"

"Are you going to make me call you dad?" DJ yelled down.

"Ya kin call me dumbshit fer all I care. But ya need to learn how to use somethin' other than the guns. Ain't gonna be bullets forever."

"Mom would kill me if she found out I called you dumbshit," DJ replied.

Daryl grunted and DJ climbed down off the roof of the RV to join him on the ground. Daryl pulled the crossbow off his back and handed it to the small boy. He ordered, "Yer gonna carry it if yer gonna learn to use it. Gotta get ya used to the weight. Rather teach ya with a smaller one but don' matter much. Ya learn to use a big one, ya kin use a small one."

"So you're really going to get me a bow?"

"Yep. Soon as I kin get into a town," Daryl promised. He turned on his heel and began walking towards the woods.

Glenn stood up on the roof of the RV and called out, "What do I tell Georgia?"

"Tell her we're gone huntin'!" Daryl shouted back. "She'll be fine with it."

"It's your neck if she's not!" Glenn yelled back.

Daryl rolled his eyes and DJ followed him into the woods. DJ watched Daryl's feet, trying to mirror the movement so that his steps were just as silent as the man who'd been revealed as his father. But where Daryl stepped silently, something always crunched or rustled or moved under DJ's feet and it was frustrating for him. When he'd given his third sigh of frustration in a row, Daryl turned back and promised, "Ain't somethin' ya jus know. You'll learn how to be quiet. Comes wit more time in the woods."

"How much time did you spend in the woods?" DJ asked.

"A lot when I was younger. How I met yer momma. Was out in the woods when she snuck up on me, made me cut myself. Spent a lil less time in the woods after I met her but Merle an I used to hunt fer our food. Only way we got fed."

"What about your parents? I guess my grandma and grandpa."

"Mom died when I was real lil. My daddy weren' worth much. Reason why I don' know nothin' bout bein' a daddy. I'ma learn though, ya know that, right?"

"I guess I do. How'd your mom die?"

"House fire when I was eight. Smokin' in bed. Fell asleep an lit her up. Was out playin'. All other kids had bikes an stuff an, when we heard the fire trucks, they all got there 'fore me. I ran after 'em, thinkin' I'd get to see somethin' cool. Stead, saw my house burnin' right there in fronta my eyes."

"I'm sorry."

"S'alright, boy. Now hush up an lets see if we can' catch us somethin' fer yer momma to cook up."

"One, two, three, four, five, seven."

"You forgot six again. Six comes after five, baby. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven. Got it?"

"Mommy, tell me about my daddy again."

DJ was only four. Georgia had just gotten off of work at the hospital and she went straight home to relieve the babysitter and to spend time with DJ. His little blue eyes stared up at her, identical in every way to Daryl. She'd never seen baby pictures of Daryl Dixon, his father wasn't the sentimental type, but, if she had to bet on it, she would say that Daryl and DJ looked just alike. From the shaggy, dirty blonde hair to the scowl that crossed DJ's face when he was irritated. Even down to the Dixon temper that she hoped was learned and not hereditary, but, as DJ got older, was showing itself to be an unavoidable trait.

"What do you want to know about him, baby?"

'Tell me about my daddy' was DJ's favorite phrase. Since he realized that he didn't have a father figure, he was always asking her to tell him about the almost mythical creator that Georgia described.

"Everything, mommy. Was he big?"

"He wasn't too big. He grew fast when he was little, just like you do, my little weed. But, when he got older, he was only about six foot tall, which isn't too tall for a man."

"Sounds giant."

"I know, baby."

"Did he look like me?"

"Just like you. You have his eyes. And his nose. And his same little frown. But, when you smile, you have my smile."

"Did he smile a lot?"

"Only when he was around me. He didn't like other people very much."

"How come, Mommy?"

"Because he was different, and people couldn't understand how different he was."

"Is different bad?"

"Sometimes, but never in your daddy's case. And never in yours either. Don't ever let anybody tell you that you have to change, baby. If you want to be different, be as different as you want. I will still love you just as much as I do now."

"Will my daddy love me?"

Georgia Rayne paused. How could she tell a child that somebody who had never loved anyone before would love him? Then again, she could never imagine a person not loving DJ. He was the best thing in her life. The only thing she would ever need again. She promised, "He will love you more than he ever loved me. But I will always love you the most. Because you were once a part of me."

"There's my boys. How was hunting today?" Georgia pressed a kiss to the top of DJ's head and handed him a plate of beans and meat.

"Ugh, Mom, no kisses!"

"Good. Gonna have deer 'morrow steada squirrel," Daryl answered, trying to ignore the stares of everybody around the campfire. Her friendship with Carol made her demand that they have dinner with the group more often.

Georgia took her seat beside DJ and started in on her plate. Daryl stared at it for a long second and then ordered, "Woman, after ya finish that, go on an get ya some more beans. Good fer ya."

"Daryl, I really don't…."

"Don'tcha fuckin' argue, woman. Too damn scrawny. Ain't that right, boy?"

"Daryl's right, Mom. You're too skinny. We were just talking about it today. You need to eat more. You can't keep giving me all your food."

Georgia laughed and ruffled his messy sandy hair lovingly. She teased, "My little eight year old is already eighty. You're just like your dad was when he was young."

She and Daryl ignored the looks they were getting from everybody else. They knew how strange it was to talk freely about DJ's parentage. But they also knew it was a way to make DJ more comfortable. After a moment of silence, Daryl said quietly, "DJ, after dinner, I want ya to head onto the RV. Grown ups gotta do some talkin'. Ain't no conversation fer ya."

"But…"

"DJ, don't argue, please," Georgia scolded softly.

DJ sighed and rolled his eyes. He finished his dinner though and let Georgia kiss him on the cheek and Daryl run his hand roughly over his head before he went off to the RV to get ready for bed. Lori led Carl up to the house while everybody else cleaned up. Daryl took the opportunity to step closer to Georgia and whisper, "Don't be too bugged by him bein' shitty bout it. He don' know what he's even arguin' bout."

"I'm not bugged, Daryl. He'll be fine. How'd interrogating the boy go today?"

"Eh. Dale wants us not to kill him. Wants us to let him go, all fuckin' peaceful like."

"What do you want?"

"Wanna make sure he ain't never gonna get out here and lay a hand on ya or DJ or Carol or nunya. Wanna make sure yer all taken care a. An that looks to mean killin' him."

"You know you're still a good man. Even if you have to kill him." She looked around for anybody watching and, when she found nobody, she reached down to loop her hand in his for a quick squeeze. He didn't pull away, just stared down at their intertwined hands until she let go and ordered, "Come on, Daryl. If we want to get the chance to vote, we better get up to the house."

Daryl stayed for a second after she turned and headed up to the house. He stared down at his hand, where her tiny one had been wrapped around his fingers, and he missed the feel of her fingers there. Then, she looked over her shoulder and she smiled at him, despite everything that was happening and everything they were going through, and he stumbled into motion. He stumbled forward to follow her to the house where they listened to bullshit arguments for bullshit reasons. He couldn't help but agree with Dale though when Dale left the house, quoting what he'd told him earlier that day. The group was broken. It was true. Chinaman fucking the farmer's daughter. Rick and Lori all messed up. Shane fucking anything he could get his hands on and killing everything else. Carol losing Sophia. It was all kinds of fucked up but things were looking up for him. He had his son and he had Georgia back in his arms. He had her close enough to hold every night when nobody was looking and nobody could judge them for being a dumb redneck and an educated pregnancy statistic.

"Georgia Rayne," he called out. She was just ahead of him in the dark, heading up to the tent where he knew she would undress slowly and slide onto his bed where he'd be able to curl into her, "wait up! Ya don' know what's out here."

"The most dangerous thing out here right now is you, Daryl Dixon!" She teased over her shoulder, dancing just out his reach. They were just out of hearing range of everybody gathering around the fire but not out of eyesight and he found that he didn't care. He lunged forward a few steps and grabbed her around the waist in an iron grip.

"Careful out here, Georgia Rayne. I ain't gonna be havin' ya gone away from me so soon," he murmured as he dragged her back to his body. "Just cause we're up on this land don't mean there are things don' wanna still eat ya."

"Are you talking about the walkers or you?" she questioned with the smile he used to love playing at the corners of her lips.

"Don' be bein' nasty, Georgia Rayne," he scolded half-heartedly.

He was met with her usual eye roll and she squirmed loose from his arms, grabbing onto his hand and pulling him towards their tent. "Come on, you filthy thing. I need to check the cuts on your knuckles anyway."

He grunted but let her drag him towards their tent until the gunshot rang in the air and a scream followed. Or at least they thought it was a scream. Daryl snarled, "Get DJ fuckin' now!"