"Yeah, they must have been looking for us," Rick mumbled, scratching his chin thoughtfully. His gaze was focused on the ground and I, on the other hand, fixed my eyes on the tent next to me. Daryl was standing closely, his calming presence washing over me as I told everything I knew or suspected to Rick. Shane hovered behind, his big fingers looped in the holes of his belt as he eyed me angrily, and he was the next one to speak.

"Why did you even go there?" While his voice was steady, and he appeared to be calm, the stiffness of his whole body as well as the way his eyes narrowed told me he was furious. Rick's gaze moved to Shane, and he looked at the man for a moment, as if considering something. I opened my mouth, trying to form a coherent response, but Rick was faster.

"She had my permission," he explained slowly, almost as if he was addressing a disobedient child. He clasped his hands together, his gaze never faltering from the monumental form of his best friend. They stared at each other for a moment and I tried to figure out something, anything, a solution, an explanation, a snappy comeback at the very least, but nothing came to me.

I recalled the young, frightened but at the same time smug face of Randall, all the scars and bruises on his once delicate features and I cringed. On one hand, he was just a young boy, but on the other - I still remembered his cocky attitude. I took a deep breath and moved my hands over my face. Should it be easy to decide about someone's life?

"Let's say there is a tragic accident nearby. Car crash, train derail, you name it. There are only four of you with a dozen patients, and chances that someone else will make it on time to support you are slim to none. Who do you rescue?" Professor Johnson sat carelessly on the edge of her desk, feet dangling far from the floor, silver hair shining in the bright sunlight which was falling on the female's small form from the nearby window. Someone could say it wasn't appropriate with her skirt and at her age, but somehow, there was no one brave enough to tell it to professor Johnson. She was quite a figure, but everyone seemed to roll with that: the students, her colleagues, supervisors and even patients, which was quite an achievement, since everyone knew they were the ones who could form an opinion based on scraps, within half a second.

Professor Johnson cleared her throat lightly; that was her way of reminding us that in medicine, swiftness is one of the most crucial values. Hesitate for too long and your patient might not make it.

"Those, who have-" a man's voice on the back of the lecture hall started the well known definition, but he was cut short by a harsh 'tsk' from the teacher.

"Yes, yes, we all know that one," she snapped, waving her hand dismissively. I heard a small, offended huff from the place where the guy was seated and I lowered my head to hide my smirk, "But who exactly? The youngest ones? The prettiest?"

"The healthiest," someone from the front row offered. Johnson's gaze moved to the person and her eyes narrowed slightly.

"How would you define that? Do you think you'd have a chance to run at least some basic tests on patients who are bleeding out?" The teacher asked impatiently, getting up from her spot. She always loved to get into a discussion with her students and even though some of her methods might be called unorthodox, we all valued her knowledge and experience.

Maybe it was the brief silence or the fact that I really liked those classes, but I did something that was a rare occurrence for me. Namely, I slowly licked my lips and I offered, "Not the healthiest. The ones who can survive."

Johnson regarded me for a moment and I felt a small blush creeping up its way to my cheeks. Tilting her head, she tapped a pen on her chin, "And how would you know who does? How would you determine that within seconds?"

I straightened a bit in my seat, still feeling the unwelcome heat in my cheeks, "I could only base on my knowledge, experience and-", I hesitated briefly, "a hunch."

A wide smile appeared on the teacher's lips and she nodded enthusiastically, "Exactly. If you have one person with a head trauma and someone with a broken leg, the decision is easy. If a person is on the verge of life and death and chances of getting them back are small, while you have another heavily injured patient, you know what to do. Other than that, all you have left is a hunch. You have to-

"Accept that you can make a wrong decision," I muttered under my breath, earning myself a surprised gaze from Daryl. I sent him a half smile before running both my hands up my face again.

"I think we should get rid of him," I murmured shakily. My voice was slightly muffled by my hands and for a second I wondered whether I should repeat what I said, but when I moved my trembling fingers away, all three men looked at me with a variety of emotions written on their faces, a clear indication they could hear me just right. I licked my lips and shrugged, "What? Maybe if they-"

"If they what? Join forces?" Shane snapped, and I could feel Daryl moving nervously beside me. I nodded, closing my eyes briefly and Shane continued angrily, "Why are you even here? We're forming a whole council now?"

Before I could respond, Shane's gaze turned to Rick, and he wasn't trying to hide his emotions anymore, "It used to be you and me."

I swallowed nervously, my eyes never leaving Shane. I didn't like the way he acted one bit and knowing what Daryl told me made me even more uneasy. Rick looked at his friend with a pained expression and his lips opened and closed a couple of times, as if he was a fish taken out of the water. I cleared my throat, but none of them looked at me, so I started with a shaky voice, "No, Shane, you are right, from this perspective it's not a good idea to let him go."

The man's eyes snapped to me, something between disbelief and gratitude written in them behind the anger that overtook him. I swallowed again, taking a step closer, much to Daryl's dismay, "But on the other hand, if they find us, he might be an asset for them as well. Even if we keep him locked, we can hardly find a way to stop him from listening unless we plan to make him deaf."

"Yea, absolutely!" Shane exclaimed, his hands leaving their previous spot in an angry motion, "That's why we should kill him, not let him wander God knows where!"

Rick was quick to interject, "No mate. No killing. Not after what happened."

I could see Shane's Adam apple working quickly, and I opened my mouth to say something, but no coherent thought worth sharing came to my mind. They were both tense, but it was a safe bet to tell the tension was something bigger than this mess with Randall. I wondered if Rick found out about Lori's affair with Shane, but then — would he be so calm if he knew?

I didn't have more time to ponder on that, as Rick started again, "Tomorrow."

The man's gaze turned to Daryl and some sort of wordless conversation took place between them, which — in all honesty — didn't help to solve the issue at all. If anything, Shane looked positively furious. His gaze moved to me and seeing the compassion in my eyes I failed to hide, he snorted angrily and took a couple of steps back. Rick watched his retreating back with a stoic expression and then, his eyes turned back to Daryl, "We brought your things to the farm."

For a second, the man looked as if he was about to argue, but after a moment he just nodded, so Rick added, "It'll be tight, but it's safer."

"Ya." Was the only response he got from Daryl. Then, the ex-cop's gaze turned to me, and he said, "Rose is with Carol."

"Okay," I nodded, putting an unruly strand of hair behind my ear just to do something. It sounded as if I was dismissed, so I muttered, "I'll go put her to bed I guess."

"Good idea," Rick sent me a half smile, which didn't reach his eyes and for a moment, I felt sorry for him. It seemed there was a lot on his mind and in Lori's current state, with Shane completely unstable, he must have felt as if all the weight of making decisions fell on him alone. I wanted to say something, anything, but the man already turned around to face Shane and Daryl grabbed my elbow gently, tugging on it. I breathed heavily, allowing him to guide me towards the farm. When he was sure we were out of earshot, he stopped, letting go off me, and started patting his wide pant pockets.

I looked at Daryl's actions, surprised, and the realization fell on me just when he found what he was looking for: a small box containing the precious pill we needed. I took it from him and turned the package in my fingers, looking at it thoughtfully. Daryl was incredibly quiet since we came back to the farm, so I couldn't help but wonder whether he regretted our previous conversation. He wasn't overly talkative in general, but what happened in the last couple of hours and him going back to being his quiet self left me feeling a bit insecure.

Okay, highly insecure.

He looked at me carefully, so I forced my lips to work, as I mumbled a quiet "thank you", putting the small box in the back pocket of my jeans.

"That one's alright?" he asked quietly, biting his lower lip. I nodded, for some reason unable to voice my answer and Daryl's eyes moved to my face, inspecting it carefully, "What is it?"

I looked at him for a moment. The very fact that he asked what was going on might have been a good implication, that nothing changed. However, my brain was having a hard time processing it, so I cleared my throat sheepishly before starting slowly, "Do you-"

Daryl didn't say anything for a long moment and I struggled to finish the sentence. I couldn't find my voice, so I clenched my hands into fists simultaneously, as if it could help me form a coherent sentence. After a couple of seconds, he sighed and placed his hands in the pockets of his pants, "Use yer words, princess."

The slight mockery and the reminder of my frequent reproach about Daryl's reticence gave me the courage to finish the sentence. Even though my voice was weak and barely audible, I finally managed, "Do you hold on to what you said?"

He looked at me for a moment, which was long enough to make my heart race in my chest, before answering quietly, "I do. Why?"

It was almost dark outside and the only sound around us was the silent whisper of trees moving along with the soft wind. I fixed the annoying strand of my hair yet again and licked my lips, before mumbling, "I don't know. I was afraid that when you had some time to process this-"

"'s fine. I didn't change my mind one bit." Daryl cut me short with the same calm expression and before I could think about it, I found myself climbing to the top of my toes and moving my arms around his neck. One of my palms made a pretty painful contact with the edge of Daryl's crossbow and I hissed quietly, but it didn't stop the huge grin I was now hiding near his collarbone. His hand moved to the small of my back, and he hugged me tightly for a moment, while his cheek rested near my temple, lips almost touching my ear. After a moment, he mumbled, not changing our position, "Let's get ya home, it's been a long day."

I nodded slowly, still inhaling his scent with my eyes closed, "Just a moment longer."

Daryl didn't say a word, but I could swear his hands pushed me closer, even though I thought it wouldn't be possible.

XXX

When we entered the house, I noticed Patricia's and Hershel's eyes falling on me almost instantly. While the man's face remained mostly impassive, Patricia smiled widely and moved towards me, her gaze searching, as if she could scan my whole body with a long enough glance. Daryl was standing behind me, close enough to make me feel secure and at the same time so far away he felt almost out of reach. I took a deep, steadying breath: that was who he was, and I had to work with it.

I smiled gently, nodding my greeting to Patricia, who stopped in the middle of the kitchen, a spoon in her hand. She cleared her throat and bracing her hands on her hips, she said cheerfully, "Right on time. The supper's almost ready."

"Need any help?" I asked, taking a step towards the kitchen filled with mouth watering smells, but I stopped short when the female shook her head, jerking it towards the rest of people in the area. Maggie was cutting some vegetables, Carol seemed to be mixing some spices and Andrea was stirring something in a pot. My presence seemed to be redundant indeed, and I smiled gently at Patricia, taking the hint.

"Go clean yourself," her eyes scanned me once more, this time with less concern and more disgust. For a second, she looked as if she wanted to add something, but changed her mind and simply shaking her head, she turned around and walked back to the kitchen.

I felt the corners of my mouth moving up involuntarily, and I whirled to face Daryl. He was still behind me, his expression blank, but his eyes were watching me with careful attention. Somehow, at the simple sight of him, my smile widened, and I felt a bit sheepish. I smiled shyly under Daryl's careful gaze and I almost whispered, "Where will you sleep?"

He motioned his head to the left, his eyes never leaving my face, and he muttered, "There, I guess. Ma things are stacked in the corner."

I cleaned my throat awkwardly, and I opened my mouth three times total before I managed a hasty, "You can stay with us. I mean, with me and Rose," I tried to keep my voice low and at the same time, I was so nervous that every word was spoken even faster than the previous one. The frown on Daryl's features told me he either struggled to understand me or he didn't like my idea. The insecure side of my being voted on the latter, which made me even more nervous, as I added quickly, "I mean, she tends to wake up at night so this might not be the best accommodation, but-"

"Victoria."

With this single word, he stopped my nervous babbling and when I stared at him waiting for something, anything, I realized my chest was heaving from the speed I achieved with my incoherent rant. Daryl regarded me for a moment with an unreadable expression, and I was about to continue my humiliating tirade, when he finally said, "Appreciate the offer, but I'd prefer to talk to Rick today, so I'll be out late."

I nodded, feeling my cheeks growing red. What was I even thinking? Why would he want to join me and a toddler? I mean, we started getting along, and I told him everything I was keeping from him, but where did the idea of him being interested in staying with us even come from? It was idiotic, utterly stupid.

"Tomorrow?" Daryl's quiet voice stopped my train of thoughts and I had to repeat the word several times in my mind to understand the meaning of it. He looked at me and yet again, I had troubles with understanding the emotions grazing his features, "That ok?"

"Tomorrow," followed by a small nod was everything I managed to get out of myself.

He stared at me, a faint smirk gracing his features and he mumbled, "Sure."

XXX

My light mood from yesterday evening was long gone the following morning. Sometime between me feeding Rosie and helping Maggie with the livestock, Rick seemed to come to a conclusion, that getting rid of Randall was indeed the best shot we've had. While I couldn't agree more, I was a bit nervous that he decided he wanted Daryl to accompany him, which left a huge lump in my tummy.

It wasn't just about Daryl being in danger — though it was of course quite a massive part of my nervousness — no, it was Shane's possible enrage which kept me on my toes. I could only imagine how angry he was and when I realized the only men left with us would be Hershel, who wasn't exactly fit to match the ex-cop due to his age, Glenn, who was extremely smart and pretty fast, but didn't really care for physical exercises, so well, Shane still held the upper hand, and T-Dog, who might have had a slim chance, but his arm was still healing.

I hugged myself, looking at Shane, who was now explaining something to Rick. By the way his arms waved around his huge frame I could tell he was far from content. Rick on the other hand seemed almost detached. He barely acknowledged his best friend's attempts of catching his attention, which — I could easily tell even from the distance — was infuriating Shane even more. I wasn't sure what they were arguing about, but it was a safe bet that Rick's attitude was driving Shane crazy.

"Think he'll start somethin'?" a quiet voice came from my side and as silly as it sounded, I felt a wave of calmness washing over me. I turned my head to the side and sent Daryl a weak smile before shrugging.

"I hope not," I mumbled, licking my lips slowly, "But I'm not sure if him staying with us is a good idea."

Daryl regarded me for a moment before turning his gaze to the still arguing friends, "It's even worse idea to send'em together."

"Maybe," I chuckled breathlessly. Daryl's gaze moved to me yet again, and I added quickly, "No, you're probably right."

We remained silent for a moment. I licked my lips slowly and glanced around to make sure we were alone before mumbling a sheepish, "I took the pill when I came back to my room."

He didn't ask, and I wasn't even completely sure he still remembered about this. But considering the fact it was equally his problem as it was mine if something went sideways, I wanted to keep him on track; it seemed fair to me when I was thinking about it last night in the bed. Now, however, when he stayed silent for a long moment, I started questioning my reasons. After what felt like eternity in my head, he mumbled, "'kay."

"I just wanted you to know," I added, feeling a humiliating blush creeping its way up to my cheeks. I clenched my teeth together forcefully, and I glanced at him nervously only to see his eyes following Shane's retreating form. The huge ex-cop was headed towards the barn, so I could only assume he was put on guard duty - either by Rick, or by himself.

Then, my gaze moved to Rick, who was hiding his face in his palms and I felt sorry for him for what felt like a hundredth time since I joined the group. He seemed to be carrying a lot, but I honestly wasn't sure, whether the group put it on him, or it was his own attitude driving him nuts, in a doomed attempt to control the situation in circumstances which were new to all of us. While he was trained, probably way better than all of us, to deal with crisis, I could hardly believe that a zombie apocalypse was an actual chapter in the cop guidebook.

I was so lost in my thoughts, the voice next to me nearly made me jump, "I know. Thanks."

I moved my eyes to Daryl and I blinked a couple of times, trying to come back from the depths of my own mind. The stormy eyes were looking at me carefully and their owner nibbled at his bottom lip yet again. The very gesture would probably stir a desire in me, if only I wasn't so concerned about Daryl's wellbeing. I tried to smile weakly, allowing my fingers to touch his briefly, "Stay safe, please."

Even though I could see he was concerned, he still shot me a small, lopsided smile, his lips briefly touching my temple, "Always am, thought we went through that already."

What was supposed to be a joke, which loosened the tension, actually twisted my stomach into a knot, as I watched Daryl walk with confident strides to join Rick. His whole posture was straight and proud, a very opposition to how he had seen himself inside. I could only guess that his pose was a habit, which he had grown while wearing the crossbow: slumping simply wasn't possible if one didn't want to scratch several body parts every day.

I bit my lower lip slowly, and I moved towards the house, where Rosie was waiting for me with Patricia. Even though a huge part of me was screaming to run after Daryl and Rick and beg them to take me as well, I knew it wasn't wise. This childish need to stay close to Daryl at all times was starting to concern me: even though everything seemed to be fine between us, I wasn't completely sure whether relying on one person so much was a good idea with my condition.

Sighing quietly, I opened the door, leaving my thoughts outside, when I heard the little girl laughing cheerfully in Carol's arms. While it was hard for me to admit, I grew to care for Daryl on so many levels it scared the shit out of me and I could only hope it wouldn't end in a bad way.