The morning was quick to filter through the room and so was Maggie. We switched out, taking turns to watch over Beth. Uncle Hershel had come in a few times to check on her and spend time with both of his daughters. I was in the room for the few times he was there, but I never stayed long.

Shane and Rick had come back before the sun set and they still had Randall. Now that they were back and he's in the shed, I decided it was time to pay a little visit.

I walked into the small building with a cup of black coffee in my hands. I took a small sip from my drink as I stared at the boy. His face is more than just a little familiar, much to my displeasure. Almost like I knew him, but I don't know him.

His eyes fluttered open as I took another sip of my coffee. "Mornin' sunshine. You look like shit."

Randall's eyes widened in shock as he stared at me. "It's you. Stay away from me!" His feet started scuffling against the floor like he was trying to run away. Well, I mean, he is trying to run away - he's just tied to a chair.

"Not the reaction I was expecting, but then again, I didn't have any expectation on how this would go." I tapped the glass with my finger, deep in thought. "You know me, but how do you know me?" Taking a step towards him, I bent down a bit to look closer at his face. "You don't happen to have a brother, do you, Randall?"

He struggled even more which caused him to fall off the chair. Randall landed with a thud. "Get away from me!"

"Jesus fuckin' christ." I sat my coffee down on the ground and pulled him up by his shirt and back into his seat. My hand rested on the back of his chair, my face mere inches from his. I could see sweat start to build on his face and boy was his breath something else. "We'll start easy, hm?"

I pushed his chair back until it was leaning on just the back two legs. Randall tried pushing the chair forward until he finally gave up enough to respond. "Fine. Fine!"

"Good." I sat the chair back down on all four legs. "Do you have a brother?"

"Yes." His Adam's apple bobbed as he gulped in air.

"Do I know your brother?"

He nodded. "Yes. You fought him before."

"Fought? Is that how you know me?"

Again, he nodded. "You're Striker. Last year you fought a guy named Warren, my brother. In the warehouse district."

"Warren?" I stood up straight as I thought back to any warehouse fights with a dude named Warren and it clicked. He was showing off this fucker, touting how he was going to make his little brother proud and beat everyone's ass! I let out a gasp that was followed by a chuckle. "Now I remember! Warren the egotistical prick and his little brother. Wow. Time does fly, now don't it?"

"You nearly killed him."

"That's a bit of a stretch. From what I recall, he almost broke my ribs and nearly broke my spine over his knee. I just gave him a black eye and a dislocated shoulder."

"He passed out!"

"From shock! Besides he was a bit worse for wear before I got to him. And if he hadn't have told me that I should be suckin' his dick instead of fightin' him, I might've gone easier on him." I patted Randall on the shoulder before going to pick up my cup from the floor. As I went to take another mouthful of coffee, I said, "Hazards of the job, my guy. You win some, you lose some."

I walked out of the shed to see Daryl walking towards it. Like usual, I couldn't get a good read of the emotions on his face. The only thing I could tell is that he's tense and that's from his shoulders being damn near to his ears.

"What're you doin' here?" His thick southern accent was music to my ears even though his words weren't.

"I'm just hangin' out and enjoyin' my coffee." I held the cup out to him. "Want some? It has sugar, but that's 'bout it."

Daryl shook his head. "Nah, I'm good. Were you in there?"

"Depends."

"On what?"

"Nothin'. I'm just sayin' that 'cause I've grown used to tellin' you that. Randall and I just had a little chat."

"'Bout what?"

I smirked. "Man of little words today, I see." My upturned lips dropped back down with a sigh. "I met him and his brother last year. That's why he looked familiar and it wasn't because of the whisky. Turns out he's still scared of me."

Daryl fidget with the strap of his crossbow while looking at the shed. "Scared of you, huh? Did you kill his brother or somethin'?"

"No, just did enough damage to knock him out. You goin' in?"

"Yeah. He knows Maggie and Hershel, and you. We need to know 'bout his group - how big it is and where they're at."

"Alright. I'm goin' in with you." I turned back around to go inside, but I was stopped by Daryl's hand around my wrist.

He stepped towards me but let go of my wrist. "No, you're not."

"Yes, I am. What's the worst he's gonna do, Daryl? Besides, I'm pretty sure that RBF of yours will keep him in check." I patted his cheek with a smile.

"The hell is RBF?"

"Resting bitch face."

Daryl rolled his eyes, scoffing at my antics. He brushed by me and was the first to get in the shed. I payed no mind when I heard him muttering something under his breath. He was probably cussing me out or something of the sort.

When I walked in behind Daryl, Randall was already shaking in his seat. Sure I scared him a little bit not too long ago, but there's no need for him to be scared again just yet. I decided to take a seat on the wooden table as Daryl took lead. I already got my answers, now he needs his.

Daryl took off his crossbow and sat it on the table next to me. It took every fiber of my being not to run my fingers over the weapon or gush at how well made the arrows are. Clearly he made them himself. The pale wood and the very natural looking feathers he probably got from birds he hunted were large indicators of that.

The sound of skin hitting against skin pulled me from my distant review of the weapon and towards the other two in the shed. Blood ran down Randall's chin from his newly busted lip. My best guess is that Daryl didn't get the answer he wanted, if he even got one at all. Daryl punched him again and Randall went flying down onto the floor.

Randall lifted his head to look at Daryl only to be met by Daryl's fist. Any other person would be flinching or wanting to leave at such a display of violence, but I've done worse for less. Does that make me a bad person? Absolutely. But it's too late to turn back now.

Randall spat out some blood, taking heavy breaths. "I told you-"

"You ain't told me shit!" Daryl grabbed him by the front of his shirt and forced him to sit against the wall.

"I barely knew those guys! I met 'em on the road."

"How many in your group?" When Randall didn't answer, Daryl pulled out the hunting knife that's seen the inside of many dead animals.

"Uh, no, no, no, no, no, no. Come on, man." Randall screamed when Daryl came rushing down. The knife was embedded in the wood floor next to his bad knee.

"How many?!"

"Uh, thirty. Thirty. Thirty guys."

"Where?"

"Uh..." He screamed again when Daryl ripped off the covering on his knee. "I don't know. I swear. We were never anyplace more than a night."

Daryl pressed the tip of his knife to the raw, inner flesh of Randall's leg. "Scouting? Planning on staying local?"

"I don't know! They left me behind."

"Did you ever pick off a scab?"

"Come on, man!" Randall looked over at me. "Get him to stop!"

"Last I checked, you didn't want me anywhere near you." I took a sip of my no longer hot coffee. "Just answer the man's questions and we'll be gone."

Daryl looked at me, "You know how to pick off a scab?"

"You gotta start real slow at first. Sooner or later..." My eyes peered over the rim of my cup at the sleeveless redneck. Now I get what Maggie meant by me undressing Daryl with my eyes. Those arms are just irresistible. I shook my head in attempts to clear my thoughts. Now was so not the time to be thinking about stuff like that.

He nodded and looked back at Randall. "You've just gotta rip it off." He growled out.

"Okay. Okay." Randall conceded. "They have weapons - heavy stuff. Automatics. But I didn't do anything."

"Your boys shot at my boys, tried to take this farm. You just went along for the ride? You're just tryin' tell me you're innocent?" Daryl's voice became rougher and angrier with each sentence he spoke.

"Yes!" He let out a rough sigh. "These- these people took me in. Not just guys - a whole group of 'em." Daryl pulled back with his knife, and as Randall continued to speak, he got up and moved a bit away from him. "Men and women, uh, kids, too. Just like you people. Thought I'd have a better chance with them, you know? But..."

"But what?" An uneasy feeling settled in my stomach causing me to stand up near the now pacing Daryl. The cup of coffee was forgotten by the crossbow.

"We go out, scavenge. Just the men. One night we- we found this little campsite. A man and his two daughters - teenagers, you know? Real young. Real cute." My hands balled into a fist as I listened to Randall. It didn't take a genius to know where this was going. "Their daddy had to watch while these guys, they- And they didn't even kill him afterwards. They just- they just made him watch as his daughters... They just- just left him there." His eyes drifted off in the memory before snapping back up to meet Daryl's. "No, but- but I didn't touch those girls. No, I swear. I didn't-"

Daryl was quick to move towards Randall, but I was faster. I kicked Randall so hard in his side, he toppled over.

"Please. You gotta believe me. I'm not like that." He panted as he tried to take in as much air as he could. "I ain't like that."

"The hell you are." I swung my fist down at the side of his face. I know that I said that Daryl was taking lead, but wounds were reopened and Randall was pouring lemon juice on it.

It was punch after punch until his whimpering stopped. I finally stopped long enough to check for a pulse and when I felt it beat beneath my fingers, I stood up. "I hope you got the answers you needed, 'cause it might be a while before you get anymore."

"What the hell was that, woman?" Daryl got up close to me and my body itched to punch him too.

"My name is Vesper, not woman." I brushed by him, completely ignoring his question, to stand outside. It was a few minutes before Daryl also come outside and when he did, I apologized. To some extent. "It wasn't my intention to beat the shit outta him. I've ran into people like his group before. If his group finds us, all us women are gonna be wishin' we were dead, if we aren't already."

He had his crossbow hanging against his back already and my coffee cup with tarot cards on it was in his hand. Uncle Hershel hated that cup with a passion, but I adored it. Daryl looked in the cup before chugging the rest of it. "Is that how you got that scar on your stomach?"

"You saw it from that far away?"

His face started to get a red hue at my response. "You weren't that far away, Vesper. And it ain't exactly small, either."

"Touché. Then again, you were starin' pretty hard."

Daryl scoffed and handed me my cup. "Nah, that's your drunk mind playin' games with ya."

"Yeah right. Sure." I trailed behind Daryl as he started walking towards his group. I had dried blood on my knuckles and no matter how hard I tried wiping them off on my jeans, it hardly worked.

Carl ran up to me with a smile on his face. "Hi Striker."

"Hey kid." I chuckled. "I see you remembered that, huh?"

"Yup!"

"Boy there's got a gang, thirty men." Daryl told the group as he walked up to them. "They got heavy artillery and they ain't lookin' to make friends. They roll through here, our boys are dead. And our women- they're gonna wish they were." He spared me a glance at the last bit, repeating what I told him moments before.

"What did you do? Carol asked with an accusatory look in her eyes.

"Had a little chat." Daryl said as he walked away.

Rick was next to speak, "No one goes near this guy."

When Lori walked up to her husband, I started to tune them out. Carl was still glued to my side and my cup was completely empty because of that redneck. "How 'bout we go get somethin' to drink? You like hot chocolate?"

Carl nodded with a huge smile on his face. "Yeah, I love hot chocolate. Do you have some?"

"Yup. Why don't you go ask your mama if you can go get some?" I watched as he ran off to Lori to ask the same question I told him to ask. She looked up at me with a small smile and nodded her head. Lori said something to Carl before he came running back to me.

"So he's a kid?" He asked as we walked back to the old farm house.

"Not in the way you're probably thinkin'. He's a bit older than Beth. We say he's a kid 'cause he's young, especially compared to the other adults."

"Can I see him?"

"No. I doubt your parents want you anywhere near him. Hell, I don't wanna be anywhere near him."

"Weren't you talking to him with Daryl? That's why you have blood on your hands, isn't it?"

"I was talkin' to him and that's why I said the things I said. You don't worry your little hat wearin' head 'bout, okay?"

"Okay."

"Good. Now how 'bout you scoop however much cocoa powder you want in your cup while I boil up some water?" Carl rushed inside with me following behind. It may be hot under the scorching Georgia sun, but with the size of the cup Carl chose, he wasn't going to be finishing more than half of the hot drink anyway.