From The Ashes

by HopefulAtrocity

Pheonyx Greene is the oldest of the Greene siblings and trans. He finds himself on the family farm recovering from top surgery when the world falls apart. His life is changed the day Rick Grimes shows up on the farm, and shortly after a certain gruff archer as well. Daryl is drawn to the younger man but how does he deal with the internal prejudices he's grown up with?

9. Chapter 8

Chapter CW/TW: past child abuse mentions, scars, religious trauma mentions, depression/anxiety, gender dysphoria, transphobia, internal homophobia

Note: I realize Daryl is a bit OOC in this story but I'm trying to keep him as close to canon as possible. Have you ever met anyone that, despite whatever walls you've built or whatever anxieties you have, you just felt right with them? Like you know you're supposed to have them in your life but you don't know why? That's the kind of relationship I'm trying to portray with them. Daryl is scared of being something he's denied for so long, but he also feels peace with Pheonyx. They have barely spoken but they both just feel a connection that they can't deny.

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Pheonyx's POV

As everyone began to head back towards the house after Otis's memorial service, Rick pulled the scruffy attractive man, who he was assuming was the tracker of their group, aside and waved a hand to Pheonyx, beckoning him over to the pair. The dog followed hot on his master's heels.

One hand on the bow strong across his chest and the other on the handle of his knife, Pheonyx approached the two men. His disquietude over being around Rick had diminished over the past 24 hours. Pheonyx had always been good at reading people, and he could tell the sheriff was a good man. Maybe a little naïve to the way the world was now but overall he seemed to have a heart of gold. He loved his family, his son especially, and he cared about his people. In all honesty, Pheonyx was slightly jealous of Carl. He would have given anything to have a father that loved him as much as Rick loved his boy. He had Hershel obviously, but there had always been a barrier between the two. In the beginning, Pheonyx didn't trust the man. How could he? His own father had been abusive. Torn him down and scarred him for life. How could he trust a complete stranger to not do the same thing? His mother insisted that Hershel was different. But he hadn't believed her at first. Over time he realized she was right. But he still couldn't find it in himself to let the older man in. And as Pheonyx's feelings of gender dysphoria–although he didn't have a word for it at the time–grew, the divide between him and his parents also grew. He didn't fault them for not understanding what he was going through. He hadn't even known until he was in his late teens and had access to the internet finally. He did fault them for their refusal to see his pain. Their continued insistence that the depression and wrongness he was feeling was just a phase. Or that he was broken for feeling that way. Forcing him to have bi-weekly therapy sessions with the creepy pastor from their church, where he was forced to dress in "respectable" women's clothes and recite verses from the bible about being a submissive woman. His mother throwing out all his jeans and replacing them with flowing skirts. Forcing makeup on his face and pushing him to go on dates with boys from the church. It wasn't until he was in the hospital, his spirit broken, that they finally started to call him Pheonyx. But the fact that he had to almost die in order for them to even try erected a wall in his heart that they could never break down. Hershel had been a father figure to him but not in the way Rick was to Carl. Seeing the man sitting with his son, holding his hand, and whispering stories to the young boy, Pheonyx had felt the rolling of his stomach as he thought of his own father. He felt the round burns on his shoulder tingle and the long scars, that crisscrossed his back, felt like they reopened. It was all psychological. He knew that. But that didn't stop him from rolling his shoulders to ease the ache. He would have given anything to have a father like Rick growing up. But he also knew that all the pain he endured as a child gave him the fortitude to survive the world as it was now. It allowed him to protect his family and a small part of him was grateful for that.

Rick gave him a small smile, which Pheonyx returned. His gaze moved to the man next to him, blue eyes meeting his. As he got closer and stopped in front of the two, he waited for the inevitable feeling of panic and anxiety to flare at the increasing proximity of the strange man. But it never came. The normal tingling of fear that rushed his veins was absent. All he felt was a fluttering in his stomach and his mouth going dry.

"Pheonyx, this is Daryl Dixon. He's the tracker I mentioned yesterday. He's been headin' up the search for Sophia. Daryl, this is Hershel's stepson. Both Maggie and Hershel say he is an expert on the property and woods surrounding it. He's offered his services-" Rick was interrupted by Kismet barking once, begging to be included in the conversation. "And his dog, to help find Sophia. I'd appreciate it if you two would work together to head up the search for her."

The man, Daryl, had his arms crossed against his chest and Pheonyx noted the tensing of his muscles at the mention of working with him. His blue eyes were like fire on Pheonyx's skin and it was almost like the man was seeing all of his secrets written across his already-inked skin. He felt a different kind of fear fill his stomach. Did he know? If he did, would he be okay with Pheonyx? With who he was? What he was? Pheonyx tried not to judge people by their appearances or label them, but it was instinct sometimes. The only word he could think of to call the man in front of him was "redneck". And unfortunately, his encounters with men of that label never ended well. So why wasn't he panicking? Internally, his mind was rolling with worry about being outed, but the urge to run, or to fight, didn't fill him at the sight of this man. That had to mean something, didn't it? But why did Daryl tense? Was he uncomfortable about being around new people like Pheonyx was? Maybe that was it.

"Work better alone.", the older man grunted and Pheonyx's knees went weak at the sound. It was deep and raspy. The edges of it practically rubbed against his spine and it sent shivers through his body. Pheonyx had opted not to take testosterone when he started transitioning. The major reasoning being that, outside of his breasts, he was comfortable with his body. Genetically, he was lucky. Overall, Pheonyx wasn't too curvy, his body was lean and with the right clothes, he could pass fairly well. He also didn't have an issue with growing body hair. The hair on his legs and arms was fairly dark and thick, so testosterone wouldn't have been much help in that department. But the low register of Daryl's voice was one he would kill to have and made him wonder how his own voice would have sounded if he chose to go on T. Would it sound as raspy as Daryl's? Would it make the other man feel how he was feeling now? Like the rumbling of his voice was vibrating throughout his body, from his ears to between his legs? Shit, he really had to stop his mind from heading towards the bedroom around this man. The likelihood of Daryl being attracted to him was nearly zero. He was most likely straight and he'd probably be freaked out by another man lusting after him. He had to get his mind back to the matter at hand. The little girl that was lost.

"So do I. But I spent last night creating a plan for the search. We can split up tomorrow but I need your help at least for today. I've been working with Kismet," Pheonyx inclined his head to the side where the dog sat, "On scent tracking for the last month. I need you to take me to exactly where she and Rick split up. He can follow her trail from there. It hasn't rained so he shouldn't have too much trouble." Noticing Daryl's blue eyes flicker to Rick, Pheonyx continued, "Rick needs to stay here for Carl and Lori. And Shane fucked up his ankle at the high school. Or else one of them would take me". Which wasn't true. Pheonyx refused to go anywhere with Shane. But Daryl didn't need to know that. Pheonyx squared his shoulders and crossed his arms across his chest, trying to appear stern and unmoving.

Daryl raised an eyebrow at the younger man, his eyes moving down to look at the dog next to him. " That mutt is a scent tracker? He don't look like he's got much goin' on behind those eyes."

Confused, Pheonyx's eyebrows pushed together. He glanced down to Kismet and sighed at the sight. The dog was on his back, rolling around, with his back foot in his mouth, chewing on it like it was a chicken drumstick. He heard a small chuckle from Rick and snort from Daryl. Using his boot to gently nudge the dog back to attention, Pheonyx muttered to the pup, "You're lucky you're cute."

He held his ground against Daryl though. "Okay, Kismet may not be the brightest crayon in the box, I'll admit. But when he's got a job he works hard. Unfortunately, you guys don't have the luxury of shopping for a certified dog. I stand by him though. We've only tracked wildlife so far, but I would bet my life on this 'mutt'"

Daryl looked him over, seeing the conviction in Pheonyx's words, he nodded.

"I want us all to gather up to talk about the plan. You okay with that?" Rick asked while looking at Pheonyx. After receiving an affirmation, Rick continued, "You'll need something with Sophia's scent on it, so I'll ask Carol for something of hers. I'm assuming you have a map we can use?"

Pheonyx nodded and noted the way Daryl's hand lifted from across his chest to brush against the pocket on his shirt. "I got one in the stable, I'll grab it and we can meet up by the cars."

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Pheonyx, carrying his rolled up county survey map, approached the old station wagon that everyone was crowded around. Aside from Rick and Daryl, Andrea, Shane, Hershel, and Maggie were surrounding the hood of the beaten up car.

He held up the map and then unrolled the thin paper across the hood. "County survey map. Shows terrain and elevations. And other stuff. As you can see." His sister placed a rock on one side of the map to hold it down and Shane placed a rock on the other side. All the colored marks and lines stood out against the grays of the printed landscape. Maggie had already seen the map the previous day, so she wasn't shocked by the extensive key in the corner or all of the handwriting across the parchment. Everyone but Daryl stared at it wide-eyed. Pheonyx flinched as he noticed the dark look that came over Hershel's face when he realized what the red stars indicated. He knew there would be an argument about this later. Trying to avoid thinking of the inevitable fight, Pheonyx looked for Daryl's reaction. The tracker's face was almost blank, but Pheonyx noticed a spark of something as Daryl's gaze swept over the large paper. His hand went from brushing the corner of the map on the hood, to brushing against the pocket of his shirt again. Intense blue eyes lifted from the paper and ran over Pheonyx's face like a warm hand. Heat flooded his face and he looked away.

Rick realized the meaning of the stars the same time Hershel did. "You're the one who placed the walker traps? We ran into quite a few of them. Weren't sure what to make of them at first."

"Walkers?", Pheonyx asked, slightly confused before realizing what the other man meant. "Oh yeah. I call them Shadows. Walkers is a bit less of a mouthful though." Avoiding the glare his stepfather was sending him, he kept his eyes trained on Rick. "Yes. The traps were my doing. The tree traps are pretty obvious when you're walking but you'll have to be careful of the pits when you're out there. I placed signs around them as a warning for any living people walking around out there. So be on the lookout for those."

Andrea looked at him with hard eyes, "Pits? Is that a euphemism or something?"

Pheonyx shook his head. "No, ma'am. They're, quite literally, pits. Holes I've dug with sharp sticks at the bottom. Windchimes right above the hole to draw in any Shadows that are nearby. There aren't a lot. I only had a chance to dig two so far. "

A sharp inhale came from where Hershel and Maggie were standing. His body tensed again, an instinct from childhood that crept up on him. He didn't expect Hershel to hit him or to lash out, but he couldn't help the fight or flight instincts that popped up whenever the older man was mad. He rolled his shoulder as the phantom pains echoed across his back.

Noting the tension, Rick spoke up as he glanced between the older man and his stepson. "Well this is perfect, Pheonyx. Thank you. We can finally get this thing organized. It looks like you've already gridded the whole area. So, we can start searching in teams."

Hershel let out a sound of disapproval. "Not you. Not today. You gave 2 units of blood. You wouldn't be hiking 5 minutes in this heat before passing out.", he turned his gaze to Shane, "And your ankle. You push it now, you'll be laid up a month. No good to anyone."

"What about Pheonyx? He gave the same amount I did.", Rick puzzled.

Hershel shook his head. "Pheonyx hasn't been on a near-starvation diet for the past couple months and didn't experience an intense bout of shock yesterday. Your body needs to rest. His doesn't."

Shane let out a huff and shook his head. "His?", the man's gaze ran over Pheonyx's body with disapproval.

Pheonyx's eyes narrowed on the man and he squared his shoulders. "Yeah. His. Got a problem with that, Ears?"

Tension rose in the air. Maggie and Hershel were glaring at Shane along with Pheonyx. Rick was sending his best friend looks of reproach. Andrea shifted uncomfortably. The air of hostility was broken by Daryl, a snort of a laugh clearing the air. The people from his group looked at him incredulously, shocked by the sound. Apparently, he didn't laugh much. The sharp sound made the corner of Pheonyx's lip curve up. Something about the noise made his stomach flutter and he decided he'd do anything to hear it again.

"Just me and Pheonyx then.", Daryl's gruff voice saying his name sent shivers up his spine. He tried to hold off the blush that was threatening to overtake his face. He hoped that everyone around him would mistake the redness for the heat. Seeing the smirk on his sister's face though, he knew that wasn't likely. Kismet, who had been sitting patiently at Pheonyx's feet, barked at Daryl, upset at not being included in his statement. Sometimes, Pheonyx swore the dog could understand every word that was being said. The archer looked around Shane to raise his eyebrow at the dog. "And the mutt. I'll take 'em back to where her trail started."

Pheonyx cleared his throat, trying to break his train of thought away from Daryl. "From there, I'll have Kismet start tracking her scent. Did you get something of hers for us to use, Rick?"

Rick pulled out a small t-shirt that had been hanging from his belt. Pheonyx took the shirt from him, nodding his thanks. It was pink with a flowery design on the front and thin from frequent washes. He tried not to think of how small it was. How terrified the girl must be. Not only being lost in the woods but also having to run and hide from the dead.

"I can still be useful.", Shane said while placing his hands on his hips. "I'll drive up to the interstate, see if Sophia wandered back." Pheonyx couldn't help but notice how flat the statement was. He could tell Shane didn't believe that Sophia would be there. He was following a script. Saying what he thought other people would want to hear. The man had already carved Sophia's name into a tombstone. Pheonyx clenched his fists on the hood of the car, trying to calm himself from the anger in his chest.

"Alright. Tomorrow then. We'll start doing things right.", Rick placed his hands on his hips, mirroring Shane's stance.

"That means we can't have our people out there with just knives. They need the gun training we've been promising them." Shane said. Andrea visibly perked up at the statement.

Oh no. Hershel is not going to like that, Pheonyx thought.

Just like he thought, Hershel cut in, "I'd prefer you not carrying guns on my property. We've managed so far without turning this into an armed camp." A slightly bitter part of Pheonyx's brain wanted to tell Hershel that they had only managed so far because of his traps and nightly runs in the woods. But he kept his mouth shut. He was already dreading the argument about the traps. It would just make it worse by antagonizing his stepfather. Daryl's eyes shift from Hershel to him, almost like he knew the Pheonyx was the reason the farm had avoided tragedy up until this point.

Shane shifted the hat he was carrying in one hand to the other, clenching it in frustration. He glanced from Hershel to Pheonyx "Your boy", he said the word with a slight tinge of disgust and Pheonyx had to reign in his anger, "here carries one. Plus three other weapons. Don't sound much like an unarmed camp."

The look Hershel gave Shane was scathing. "If you must know, my son and I disagree over his use of weapons on the property. Even so, he is my son. You are a group of strangers who I've offered shelter to out of the kindness of my heart. You want to stay here, you play by my rules." His stepfather placed a deep emphasis on the word "son" and Pheonyx could tell this was his way of standing up for him. Hershel wasn't a confrontational man by any means, so the fact that he was speaking like this to Shane, made Pheonyx feel elated and protected. He'd spent so long having to stand up for himself against his mother and stepfather. Having Hershel stand up for him now was a nice change of pace.

Rick gave his best friend a look that told him to keep his mouth shut. "Look, Hershel's right. We're guests here. This is your property. And we will respect that.", He looked pointedly at Shane before taking his Colt from his holster and placing it onto the hood of the car. Shane shook his head but placed the Glock, that he had tucked in the back of his pants, onto the hood of the car with a clang. His facade was calm but there was a flame of anger in his eyes that made Pheonyx shiver.

A look of relief flitted across Rick's face. "Okay, first thing's first: set camp, find Sophia."

"I hate to be the one to ask, but somebody's got to-", Shane said, "What happens if we find her and she's bit? I think we should all be clear on how we handle that." From the way he spoke, Pheonyx could easily guess at how Shane would handle that situation. Flashes crossed his mind of sitting next to Shawn's bedside, wiping the sweat from his younger brother's forehead. Trying desperately to bring his fever down, even knowing the attempts were futile. Listening as his brother screamed from the pain. Doing the same for his mother when she was bitten after Shawn turned. His gut clenched thinking about a little girl having to endure that suffering. Glancing over at Maggie, Pheonyx could tell the same memories were passing through her mind.

"You do what has to be done." Rick said softly, looking at the ground. The pain of having to say those words was written all over his body.

"And her mother? What do you tell her?", Maggie asked, shock lacing her voice.

"The truth.", Andrea replied.

Pheonyx watched the look pass between his sister and stepfather. He knew that they were upset by this conversation. To them, the strangers were talking about callously killing a sick little girl. He'd been trying to get his family to realize the truth, that these weren't people anymore. They were dead. But he knew why they clung so hard to their beliefs. If they admitted that the Shadows were dead, then that would mean admitting that all their friends and neighbors were dead. That his mom and Shawn were dead too.

Shane's nasally voice invaded Pheonyx's train of thought, "I'll gather and secure all the weapons, make sure no one's carrying till we're at a practice range off site. I do request one rifleman on lookout. Dale's got experience.", He tilted his head in the direction of the man wearing the bucket hat, who was helping set up tents a few feet away from them.

Hershel hesitated and Rick jumped in, his voice soothing, "Our people would feel safer. Less inclined to carry a gun." Pheonyx had to admit, the man had a silver tongue, because Hershel nodded his assent. The Sheriff thanked him, looking relieved.

Eager to get the search started, and also already drained socially, Pheonyx looked at Daryl, catching his eyes, "You ready to head out?"

The man grunted and started walking away from the car, so Pheonyx assumed that was a yes. Before he could follow him, Maggie reached down and grabbed a canvas backpack leaning on the side of the car. She tossed it to her brother, which he caught easily. He raised his eyebrow at her in question.

"Food for you guys, a few bottles of water, a bowl for Kismet, and a baggie of treats. You're not gettin' him to do any trackin' without a bribe. Right, handsome?" Maggie smiled down at Kismet, who was panting at his side. The dog's tail thumped at the attention he was getting.

"Thanks", Pheonyx said. "We should be back around sunset. But don't wait up for dinner."

"Come back in one piece.", Maggie kissed his cheek and gave Kismet a pat on the head. Lowering her voice, a playful smirk crept onto her face. "Have fun with your archer."

Hiding the heat that immediately spread on his face, Pheonyx ducked his head. Normally he didn't carry a bag when he was out in the woods, so he had to configure the weapons on his body to be able to carry it. He ran into a bit of a problem with the quiver and bow across his chest.

Since he wasn't planning on doing any hunting and he also had his cutlass and other weapons, he opted to take both off and replace them with the backpack. "Can you put these in the barn for me, please?", he asked his sister sweetly, and she nodded. Pheonyx handed the quiver and bow off to his sister. Patting Kismet's head and whistling to have the dog follow him, Pheonyx jogged to catch up with Daryl.

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Daryl's POV

As soon as Pheonyx asked if he was ready to leave, Daryl grunted and started heading towards the woods. He didn't even look to see if the younger man and his dog were following him. He needed a moment. So many thoughts and feelings were coursing through his body. He wasn't used to most of them.

Anger, yes. That feeling was second nature to him. He was angry at Shane for the dirty looks and snide words that he'd flung at Pheonyx. He'd treated him like he was a freak, and it took everything Daryl had not to beat the shit out of the officer. It was the same way that people had treated him and his brother growing up. People assumed that because they were Dixons, that meant they were trouble. In the beginning both boys tried to avoid acting out, so as not to confirm people's views of them, but eventually they realized it was pointless. They could be model citizens and the whole of Senoia would still see them as the dirty, trailer-trash, sons of Will Dixon. Daryl had retreated into himself at that point. Why bother making friends if people were just going to make assumptions of his character based on his genetics? Merle, unfortunately, went the opposite route. He decided that if people were going to assume he was bad, he might as well live up to their expectations. And often this led to Daryl following him into fucked up situations. But Pheonyx hadn't let Shane's words bring him down. He'd straightened his back, stared at him with intense eyes, and spit his hatred right back at him. Daryl hadn't been able to contain his snort of a laugh at the name Pheonyx had given the other man. The sound was foreign and the others had looked at him in shock. Not surprising really. He didn't laugh a lot. It was probably the first time they had heard something other than vitriol from him.

But aside from the usual feelings of anger, Daryl was confused by the fiery feeling in his ears and cheeks. The fluttering of moths(because he refused to call them butterflies) in his stomach. All in regards to Pheonyx. To be honest, he hadn't heard much of what Rick and the others were discussing at the meeting. All he could focus on was the map in front of him, a larger version of the one that was sitting in his chest pocket. The one that felt like it weighed a hundred pounds. He had suspected that Pheonyx was the one to make the map as soon as he saw him. But this was just confirmation. He'd spent most of the night before just looking at the thin paper. If anyone asked, he would say he was studying it to make a plan for finding Sophia. But in reality, he just kept running his fingers over the handwriting that dotted the paper. Something about it just drew him in. Knowing, now, that Pheonyx was the one who made them, who put all this work into protecting a family who was obviously living in denial about the state of the world, he was confused. What about this man entranced him so much? Why couldn't he brush off these emotions like he did with everything else? Obviously, he wasn't sexually attracted to the younger man. That would be wrong. Maybe his body was just pointing him in the direction of a new friend? Aside from Merle, Daryl had never had a true friend before. Maybe he could try being friends with Pheonyx? Even thinking that though, there was a wrongness that flooded his brain. No, what he was feeling wasn't as simple as friendship.

When Pheonyx had looked at him, and a light blush had spread across his face, Daryl felt like his soul was leaving his body. Was he feeling these things too? Did Pheonyx feel the same draw to Daryl that Daryl felt to him? Did he have the same voice in his head telling him how wrong these feelings were? Is that why he looked away from him so quickly?

As he walked, crossbow in his hands, his knees felt weak from the emotional turmoil in his head. There was a hopeful part of him that believed that Pheonyx was also feeling the attraction he was. But another part, a darker part, was telling him that he was a freak, an abomination for feeling what he was for another man.

Lost in his thoughts, Daryl nearly tripped when Rick's voice sounded from behind him. He spun around, subconsciously noting that Pheonyx and Kismet were jogging over to the treeline where he was headed.

"Hey!", Rick said, his ridiculous sheriff's hat in hand, "We got a base now. We can get this search properly organized now."

There was an edge to Rick's eyes, like he was trying to imply something that Daryl wasn't picking up. He took a few steps forward, narrowing his eyes. "Ya got a point, or are we just chattin'?"

Rick shuffled his feet, placing his hands on his hips. "My point is, it lets you off the hook. You don't owe us anything."

On one hand, Daryl was slightly pissed that the man assumed he would just leave, even in the midst of a search for a lost girl. He wasn't that much of an asshole. On the other hand, he knew that he hadn't exactly been…. Friendly. He was surly, avoided social situations, and often snapped at other members of the group. Not to mention he tried to kill Rick within 5 minutes of meeting him. It was no wonder that Rick assumed Daryl was looking for an excuse to leave. Shaking his head, his eyes landed on Pheonyx, who was standing at the edge of the treeline, petting Kismet, and waiting for Daryl to meet up with them. His eyes were glued to the younger man. He didn't even think about how it would look to Rick, seeing that Daryl couldn't pull his gaze away from the man yards away from them.

The usual edge to his voice gone, the simple sight of Pheonyx placing a haze of calm around his shoulders, Daryl spoke clearly. "My other plans fell through."

Without even looking back at Rick, Daryl made his way over to Pheonyx and the mutt. His brain screamed for him to run the other way, but his heart pulled him right to the other man's side.

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Rick's POV

Rick watched as Daryl walked towards the tree line, walking beside Pheonyx and Kismet. A slight smile colored the Sheriff's face. He'd seen the glances that the archer had been throwing the farmer's stepson. The redness of his ears and cheeks while he looked the younger man up and down. It wasn't hard to assume that there was something brewing there. Up until that day, he'd seen Daryl as a hot-tempered redneck with a hair thin trigger. Aside from the man's bout of drunkenness at the CDC, all Rick had encountered from the man was snappy replies and sarcastic remarks. Which was probably deserved considering he handcuffed his brother to a roof. But still, Rick felt like that anger was a front for something else. When he'd offered Daryl a way out, the man's eyes had flicked to Pheonyx and stayed there. His response saying his plans fell through, was soft and almost entranced as he watched the tattooed man petting Kismet, waiting at the tree line for the archer. It was the first true bit of emotion that Rick had heard from him. He felt like, in that moment, he finally saw a glimpse of the real Daryl Dixon.

The thud of the screen door behind him had Rick whirling around. He was greeted by the serious eyes of Hershel Greene. The man slowly made his way down the steps and over towards him. Rick had an idea what this was about and it made his stomach clench. The Greene's had been extremely hospitable and had saved his son's life without hesitation. But he also could read the apprehension on Hershel's face anytime he was around them. The man didn't want them here. And honestly, he couldn't blame him. While his group was mostly able-bodied, they were technically more mouths to feed. And the medical issues in the group just kept mounting on top of each other. He wouldn't be surprised if Hershel had gone through the majority of their first aid supplies on Carl alone. Rick needed to tread lightly. Pushing Hershel wouldn't be a good idea. The man was kind and godly but also strict and stubborn.

"We could give you more space. Set up over by the barn.", Rick offered. His hands were sweating against where they rested on his hips.

Hershel shook his head. "No. No need for that. Better you stay close to the house.", the old man looked down and let out a small sigh, "I don't say this easily, Rick. We don't normally take in strangers. I can't have your people thinking this is permanent. Once you find this girl, and your boy's fit for travel. I expect you'll move on. We need to be clear on that." The look Hershel gave him was no nonsense. Arguing with him wouldn't do anything. He could change his mind but he knew that he needed to ease the man into the idea. So he kept silent, just lowering his gaze. He expected the conversation to end there, but was surprised when Hershel spoke again.

"And, Rick?"

He looked up at Hershel and the man continued, "If you're going to be on my property, your people will have respect for my family. Every one of them."

Rick immediately knew he wasn't speaking in general about the people in his household. There was a specific person he was hinting at. Pheonyx. Over the past 24 hours, Rick's only thoughts had been on his son and Sophia. He hadn't had time to really think about much else. All he knew was that Pheonyx had offered his blood to Carl without hesitation. That he had sat with Carl, held his hand, sang to him despite the fact he was unconscious. Hershel had saved his son's life, but Pheonyx had nurtured his soul. So, when Shane made snide comments about Pheonyx's gender, alluding to him being born a girl, Rick was surprised. Not just because he had never heard such disgust in his best friend's voice before but mostly because he hadn't realized or cared. Hershel and Maggie both referred to Pheonyx with male-centric language. Stepson, brother, he, him. So that's what he thought of him with. And his family would know better than anyone. It wasn't up to him to police someone else's identity. The vitriol in Shane's words had made him sick. Pheonyx had helped save Carl's life. Shane should at least have the decency to show him respect for that, no matter what his views on trans people were.

Hershel looked him dead in the eye, his voice was stern, "I don't care what your personal feelings are or what your personal beliefs may be. Everyone is allowed their own opinions. But you will reign in your people. Shane especially. My son has had to deal with too much in his life to have to deal with hate in his own home. If I hear another malevolent word from any of your people, I will have no qualms kicking you off my property. The boy can stay until he is healed, you and Lori as well, but all the others will have to leave."

Rick nodded without hesitation. "I understand. I'll talk to them. Pheonyx helped save Carl's life. I won't tolerate anything but respect for him. You have my word."

There was a look of relief in Hershel's eyes but he just jerked his head in acknowledgment before walking away. The words he spoke to the old man were true. It didn't matter that Shane was his best friend. He would talk to him. He wouldn't permit him to speak badly to or about Pheonyx. The younger man helped save his son. He owed him that much, if not more.