8. Gut Punch

"Shine some light in here for me, would you?" Mitch asks Pete. He kicks the stationary car in frustration.

Pete pulls a flashlight from the glove box before peering into the bonnet. They're brothers, so I had found out during our brief drive, both army and lucky to be together still in the remnants of this messy world, considering their military positions thrusting them straight into the line of fire.

"Can't believe we found you on a damn supply run," Caesar says with a chuckle as I lean against the rear tire.

He hasn't taken his eye off me since we left Michonne and Glenn behind at the abandoned house, insisting on sitting in the back of the beat-up Subaru with me as if to ensure I didn't just open a door and jump out. He needn't have worried. A chance of helping those at the prison, genuinely helping them not just fluking my way through first aid, wasn't something I was about to pass up. Also, I'm eager, despite myself, to see Philip again. Eager and legitimately terrified.

"Fate's crazy like that, huh?" I give him a half-hearted smile.

I care about Caesar, even before our brief, physical fling I had cared about him, but after months of barely thinking of him it's plain weird to see the man standing in front of me, baseball cap and all.

We had made it maybe an hour before the car had kicked it, the overheated engine sputtering into silence. Mitch had rolled it to a stop just off the road and now the camo-clad brothers have been working to get it going again for as long as we'd been driving. Michonne and Glenn would have long been back at the prison, and the thought of them telling the others where I now am twists my guts into knots. It had become a home, those scary buildings and just blossoming gardens, and in the encroaching darkness of the outside world I already miss it. Or, maybe I just miss the people who had helped to make it a home, the ones who had welcomed me in.

The guttering of a loud engine draws our collective heads upwards, the noise of an approaching vehicle deafening in the quiet world deprived of human noise.

"Lily, behind the car," Martinez orders as he pushes me off the road. My feet skitter into the ditch by the road. He, along with Mitch and Pete, trains his weapon in the direction of the increasing noise. It's a motorbike, and as it pulls into view, I recognise it, and its occupant even at a distance and my heart lurches. Why did he come here?

"Don't shoot him," I call out, stepping onto the road before Martinez can push me back.

"Someone coming for you?" He holds his rifle aloft. "Wasn't expecting that."

"You didn't really think they were just going to let us take this fine piece, did you now Martinez?" Mitch leers.

"Shut up, Mitch," Pete says, his voice a warning, watching the tension of Caesar's shoulders.

"Please let me talk to him," I turn to Martinez who has stepped closer to me as the motorbike draws within shooting range. "Please." I can see the shining skin of Daryl's bare shoulders in the last of the sunlight, the grimace plastered on his face against the wind. He slows the bike to a standstill, only a hundred metres or so away and balances it on its kickstand.

"He can't take you back, Lily," Martinez warns, recognition flickering in his eyes as he takes in the familiar shape of the younger Dixon brother. He sighs and lowers his weapon, motioning for Mitch and Pete to do the same.

"I know." I focus on Daryl who has bounded off his bike and is striding up the road in an almost predatory fashion, crossbow hiked up to his broad shoulder and trained on Martinez. "I just need to talk to him. Convince him that he has to leave, okay?"

A brief nod of consent from Martinez and I run to meet Daryl, halfway between his bike and the still immobile car.

"Get behind me Lily," he growls when I skid to a stop, and he yanks me the extra step towards him. He looks from me to the three men down the road, and I glance back to see they've all pointed their weapons at Daryl again.

"They won't shoot. You can still get away." I push him, his chest a solid wall beneath my hand and he barely acknowledges me. "Go now, Daryl. No one has to get hurt."

"What the hell you talking 'bout?" He says, his brows deepening into a pronounced 'v.' "Came to get you, so come on. Let's go. Damn lucky they only took you this far …"

He sounds so sure of himself and I still in surprise.

"Michonne and Glenn told you I made this choice, right? That I chose to go with them?"

"So? Don't mean you gotta." He lowers his crossbow and focuses on me. "No one asked you to do that. Damn stupid even if you can somehow convince that arsehole not to bring a whole load of vengeance down on us anyway. And that's a big if." Daryl's gaze returns to Caesar and the brothers.

"I know that. I know none of you guys would've asked me to do this." I resist the urge to brush the strands of his hair back from his handsome face, now twisted in emotions I can't decipher. "But this is a chance. A real shot for you guys. And I'll be fine. Like I told Michonne, he won't hurt me."

"Ain't good enough, girl. You don't get to just make decisions like this. Now quit messing around. You made your point …"

"My point?"

"I get it, you're brave, okay? You're one tough, self-sacrificing bitch. Now let's go." His reaches for my arm with a free hand and I hear a shout and scuffle of movement from behind us, the others moving closer, patience wearing thin.

"Daryl …" I push him away from me. "You have to go back. Alone."

"You don't want this …"

"I do." The finality of my voice stumps him and his eyes widen. "This is what I want."

He wavers and I draw upon what emotional strength I have, guilt growing as I realise what I need to say to make him leave without getting hurt. "I belong with him, with Philip. He's my family. You get that, right? Glenn told me that when you guys found Merle you took off with him at first, left everyone. It's like that."

"Thought this was 'bout helping us?" Daryl mutters, and I don't miss the expression of hurt he wears for a split second, before his trademark scowl returns.

"Of course, it is. But it's not enough. This way no one has to get hurt and I'm back where I belong. With people who care about me …"

"We care 'bout you." His eyes are ice when he lifts his head. "I do." Daryl reaches for me again, this time his hand weaving into the length of my ponytail. My breath catches in my throat as he tugs me closer to him, and I watch his eyes as they drop from my own to my mouth. Is he thinking of kissing me? This feels like the drum-roll, the moment before …

"It's not the same," I say, the weight of the lie already heavy on my conscience. "I care about him more." I bite the bullet, forcing myself to say what I hope will make him turn around. "I care about him more than anyone. More than I care about you." I pull away from him as if to prove my point.

Daryl's nostrils flare, the look of hurt morphing into anger. That was the closest admission to genuine feeling I've gotten from him in four months, and he has ridden for hours, alone, probably against the better judgement of the others, to find me. And now I've pushed him away, effectively shutting down the sweetness that had been growing between us with a few, curt sentences.

"You mean that?" He asks, cheeks flushed pink.

"I do. You need to go." I push him away again, his heel scuffing against the tarmac as he grips my elbows.

"You ain't what Merle thought you were. He was wrong about you," he says, his voice almost a growl and I needle my lip with my teeth, not meeting his eye. He releases me with a scoff, and raises his crossbow, keeping it firmly on the men behind me, who I see with a quick glance over my shoulder have continued to inch towards us. Martinez has been watching the entire interaction between Daryl and I, his face is oddly pinched.

Daryl's last words to me are sitting like a stone in my stomach, a heavy mass I know I'm going to carry for a long time. I hate lying to him, hate pushing him away in a rare moment of vulnerability, but the thought of losing him, especially while he is trying to help me, is too much to bear.

He reaches his motorbike, hopping on it and resettling his crossbow on his shoulder before giving me one last, pointed stare. I freeze like a deer in headlights, longing for him to come bounding back to scoop me up and drag me back to the prison. He doesn't, why would he? Instead, I watch the wings on his vest as he turns the bike around and rides away, without so much as a backward glance.

The road is sun-warmed beneath my knees while floods of tears obscure my vision. I hadn't even realised I'd buckled over onto my hands, watching Daryl disappear around the bend up ahead.

"Come on, Lil. Let's get you back to your father." Martinez eases me up with hands around my upper body, and the weight in my stomach rolls like marbles.

What have I done? What kind of choice have I made?

I finger the locket at my throat, the one thing of my mother's I still own, and trudge beside Martinez back to the car, ignoring his arm wrapped around me. He is saying comforting things that don't register, meaningless words I'm not ready to hear and I extricate myself from him to lean against the back of the vehicle once more.

"He'll want you to call him Brian now," Caesar says, "or 'Dad' still, I guess."

"Yeah I figured …" I spare a glance for Mitch and Pete, back working on the car and fretting as the sun completes its descent.

Peter ducks out from under the cover of the bonnet, sliding into the driver's side to turn the keys in the ignition.

"Try it again …" Mitch calls out when the car gives out a weak whine, engine sparking to life, and a second attempt of starting it is successful. The brothers whoop and grin.

"Phew, that's a relief," Mitch says, slamming the bonnet shut and wiping grease stained hands on the back of his fatigues. "Wouldn't want to be stuck out here all night." He appraises me with a smile when he stalks past Martinez and I. "Although … You could have kept me warm Lily."

"Oh, barf." I wave him away before opening one of the vehicle's rear doors. "Not if you were the last man on Earth."

"May as well be …" Mitch says, hopping in the front passenger side and ignoring Martinez's glare as he follows me into the car. "Except of course that redneck on the bike back there." He swivels in his seat to face me as Pete pulls the car back onto the road. "Wanna tell us what that was all about?"

"None of your business," I say and cross my arms.

"Lily …" Martinez slips his rifle to rest on the floor beside his thigh and eyes me. "I mean, Merle's brother? Really?"

"Can we forego the judgement and just get back to your camp, Caesar? I'm pretty dang exhausted."

"You going to tell your dad about you shacking about with a Dixon?"

I snort. "You have no idea what you're talking about, and I don't owe you an explanation …"

"Oh no way," Mitch jeers from the front seat. "You guys hooked up, didn't you?" He jabs two fingers at Martinez and I, sitting as far away from one another as possible.

"Once upon a time …" Martinez says and his soft tone peaks Pete's interest, the man's brown eyes visible in the rear-view mirror.

"You okay, man?" He asks. He glances towards where I am pressed up against the door before his gaze settles on Caesar.

"Yeah, whatever. Just sick of being out on the road …"

The car lapses into silence, broken only by a brief argument between the two brothers about which road is best to take back to their camp, and I distract myself by staring into the inky night out the window. It's impossible not to dwell on those I am leaving behind, or fret about what I may be heading towards. How much has Philip, Brian, changed in the last five months? How much of his true self had he been hiding from me all along? While avoiding lingering on thoughts of the man who had been closer to me than my biological father, and while enjoying the relative comfort of the prison, I had almost been able to distance myself from the atrocities he'd committed.

It strikes me like a punch to the gut that I've been in denial for months, compart mentalising to separate the Philip who had killed his own people, killed Merle, from the Philip who had cared for and protected me. But which Philip was I about to be faced with?

We arrive at the campsite sooner than I'd expected, how Michonne had missed it on her countless trips beyond the prison I don't know, and I hesitate, one hand on the car door.

"Hey, it'll be okay. I promise," Caesar says, ducking his head to get a closer look at my face. "This could change everything for those people back there, give him another reason to stick around and play nice …"

"Another reason?"

Caesar gnaws his lip. "Yeah, 'bout that …"

My door is yanked open by Mitch, who'd exited the front seat without me realising, and his grin is too-wide in his red face.

"Well come on little one, let's deliver you to your daddy like the heroes we are."

A small crowd has gathered around the car, the delayed return of Caesar and the Dolgen brothers having been cause for concern, and I take in their camp. Some trailers and RVs, plenty of cars forming a rough perimeter, camping gear … It's less well-appointed than I thought it would be. How are they defending this place? A few of the group are staring at me with interest, pressing Caesar, who I'd already determined to be the leader based on Mitch and Pete's deference to him, for answers about the arrival of a stranger amongst them. A woman separates herself from the rest of the group, approaching me with an extended hand. She's brunette, at least a few inches taller than me, and has enviable eyebrows.

"Hi, I'm Tara," she says, and I note she is going to bump my fist rather than shake my hand as I first thought.

My face twitches in surprise, but I return the gesture. Tara grins.

"This is Lily," Caesar says, with a hand now resting on my shoulder, "she's one of us. Make her welcome." He addresses the group as a whole, and I note their collective demeanour shifts into something more relaxed and welcoming. I'm touched that Tara had approached me before being given the all-clear from Martinez. She's either very nice, or very stupid, but either way I return her smile.

"Lily hey? That's my sister's name …" Tara says before turning away from me and calling out, "Hey sis! Come meet the new chick …"

I see that a few people are exiting the trailer up ahead but cannot make them out in the darkness. There's a fire going nearby, although it's not burning high, and the car's headlights and the moon are the only things illuminating us now.

Tara introduces me to her girlfriend, who I greet with a tentative smile and a few other people move up to meet me, names and faces I barely register. The Dolgen brothers have busied themselves unloading the car, their supply run had been somewhat successful it seems, but Caesar hasn't left the vicinity of my elbow and I realise he's waiting.

Waiting for Philip to spot me.

When he does, his gaze shifting away from the pretty brunette woman by his side and the young blonde girl in her arms, one who looks enough like Penny for my heart to plummet, Philip's one good eye widens to comical size. He pushes through the remnants of the crowd, most having wandered off to go about their business and stands right in front of me, towering over me as he always did. Caesar's hand on my shoulder tightens.

Philip still isn't saying anything, his mouth working in silence as he looks me over, so many emotions contorting his face that I can't figure out what he is feeling. He looks the same as he had the last time I'd seen him, unchanged by our time apart.

"Found her out there, man," Caesar says, breaking the tension that had been suffocating me. "She's alright, not harmed. Thought I'd bring her back where she belonged …" He grunts when Philip wretches me away from him grasp and entangles me in warm arms.

"Lily," Philip says into my hair, "I can't believe you're here. I thought I'd lost you forever."

My face is wet with tears, I'm drenching his shirt where it presses to my skin and I pull away to look up at him. He's crying just as much as I am, the display of emotion surprising me. Philip had always been restrained, even before everything happened, and I could count the amount of times I'd seen him cry on one hand.

"Glad to be back … Dad."