Z

"What if there's people in there?" I whispered to Daryl as we crouched behind some overgrown bushes. He pulled an arrow back on his cross bow, arming it in response to my question. The daylight was dwindling as the owls began to call out from the trees.

"We need someplace for the night," His voice was hushed as he stood; I followed behind him as he approached the old farmhouse with cautious steps. Daryl peered into one of the windows, his hand cupped to give him a better view, "Don't look like there's anyone in there," He murmured. He turned and stepped up onto the old porch, the wood groaned loudly under his weight and again when I joined him. He tried the door knob and surprisingly, the door creaked open - Daryl flinched at the noise. He looked back over his shoulder and signaled for me to stay close. I did my best as we stepped into the musty house, dust fluttered in the evening sunlight that shone through the windows. I closed the door behind us and earned myself a glare from Daryl as it squeaked again.

The front door of the house opened to the living room, it was small - the house couldn't be more than a one bedroom home - containing only an old sofa, a bookshelf, and a fireplace. The next room was the kitchen, which held a wood burning stove and a fridge that looked like it had set in the same place since the sixties. Off of the kitchen there was a door way that, I guessed, must lead to some kind of cellar or basement, past that was the bedroom and a bathroom.

"Musta up and left when all the shit started," Daryl said, still hushed, "Maybe they left some canned stuff." I followed him back into the kitchen and watched as he pulled open the cupboards, searching for something to eat. Our stomachs had been growling since noon, Daryl had tried to hunt a bit, but his efforts hadn't produced anything.

"Look," I said, pulling open a cupboard to find rows and rows of cans, I began turning them, "Stewed tomatoes, peaches, peas, lookit! Here's some pasta, if we had some water I could make us spaghetti." I looked over at Daryl, "It might not be that good, but-"

"Hell girl, I'm a few minutes away from eatin' my boot," He pulled a knife off his belt and handed it to me, "There was that stream out there, I'll go get some water for us for the night. Anythin' happens you run, understand?" I nodded, "I'm going straight from the front door, run that way, an' I'll find you."

"Okay," I said quietly, I watched him as he gathered a pail and a pot to store water in. He paused as moved past me, heading towards the door. Our eyes met in the orangey glow of the setting sun and Daryl leaned down a bit and brushed his lips roughly against my forehead before continuing on his way.

While he was out getting the water, I grew more relaxed in my new surroundings, going through the closet in the hallway and finding quilts and blankets. I took my findings into the bedroom and made the bed, picture frames hanging on the wall caught my eye. The images were of an older man and two women who I guessed to be his daughters, there was one of this trio fishing and another one - from years previous - at Disney world. I ran a finger over the glass of the frame, wiping away the dust and I wondered where Beth was and if she was okay. I hoped she and Shane were safe.

A loud thump on the floor behind me pulled me from my wondering, I whipped around to see Daryl standing there, his bow over his shoulder. The knife he'd given me, the one I'd left on the kitchen table, was now on the floor.

"I di'n't leave it with you so you could jus' set it down and wander off," he said, grumpily, "You woulda been up shit creek if I'd been someone else. Ain't jus' walkers in these woods," He held up a sign, it was an old stop sign, the white lettering painted over with red paint. The words 'Red Zone' where sprawled in black across the entire octagon.

"Did you see anyone?" I asked, picking the knife up from the floor and taking a better look at the sign.

"Nah," He answered, "We better get outta here in the morning, try and find the direction Rick and them got off to. I pulled my bike around back, jus' incase." I nodded as Daryl turned and walked back to the kitchen, he set the sign down on the table, "I don't know how we're gonna cook," He murmured, "The smoke will let people know we're here, can't take that risk."

"Well," I sighed, "I would have cooked for you if the world wasn't upside-down," I smiled wearily, the day's events finally taking their toll. We sat down at the table and ate the food from the cans in silence as darkness fell on the house. After our dinner Daryl made sure to barricade the front - and only - door he pushed the heavy bookcase in front of it and drew the heavy drapes over the windows before we walked back to the bedroom.

"If you want me to, I'll sleep on the couch," He said, rubbing the back of his neck with a dirty hand. We stood at the doorway, squinting in the little moonlight coming through the curtains at the bed.

"You don't have to," I said, trying to play off the situation, "I'm going to use some of that water to wash up."

"Alright," He mumbled, he stood in the doorway for a moment before entering the small bedroom and heading for the bed.


Ten minutes later I walked into the room, my bare feet padding along the hardwood floor as I carried my boots over the edge of the bed. Daryl's breathing was slow and shallow and I assumed that he was asleep. I stripped out of my jeans and pulled my bra off, leaving me in a tee shirt and my underwear, before slipping between the blankets. The room was chilly, but Daryl's body heat was warming the bed and it took a good amount of willpower for me not to move closer to him. Thunder rolled outside as rain began to pelt against the house, the wind was howling. I was shivering slightly.

"Rose?" His voice was more gravelly than usual and startled me.

"Y-yeah?" I asked, staring up at the ceiling as lighting flashed, illuminating the dark room.

"If, ah. I mean, if you're cold-" He paused, "If you want to you can come a bit closer, I won't bite 'cha." I smiled to myself and moved closer to him until our legs were touching, I was surprised to find him in sweat pants.

"Where did you find those?" I asked, rolling over to face him and tugging on the material.

"The, uh, dresser," Daryl said, his voice raspier than usual. He laid on his back, his hands folded on his stomach, "Why? What've you got on?"

"No pants," I said honestly, "I didn't want to wear my dirty jeans anymore." Awkward silence fell between us, allowing my mind to wander to Beth and the others, I looked at Daryl, his eyes were closed, "Daryl?" I asked and watched him open them.

"Yeah?"

"Do you think they're okay?" I asked, "The others?"

His words were hesitant, "I hope so." Tears pricked my eyes as I thought of the people we'd lost and I wondered about Beth. I rolled onto my opposite side trying to regulate my breathing and hide my tears. I felt the bed shift as Daryl turned to face my back, I tried to be still, "I'm sure Shane's protectin' her," His voice floated through the space between us, I nodded in response to his statement. I stiffened as he placed a worn, timid hand on my back in an attempt to comfort me.

I leaned back into his touch and this lead into Daryl wrapping a strong arm around my waist and pulling me back against him.

"Shhh," He soothed, his lips against the back of my head, "Shh, S'okay." I rolled over again, back to facing him and buried my face in his chest. Daryl held me closer, running a hand over my hair as I sniffled against his shirt, "We'll find 'em, Darlin'." I looked up at him, his features highlighted in the moonlight, he moved his hand to cup my cheek, "Get some sleep."

Our lips met briefly at first and then our kissing grew needier and had a hunger driving it. Daryl's arousal was obvious as his hands moved down to my ass, squeezing lightly. He paused awkwardly as I rolled only my back, pulling him on top of me and tugging his shirt up over his head.

"I-ah," He stammered, "Just gimmie a second?" He asked, getting up from the bed and crossing the room to rummage in the backpack he'd been carrying. In the silver light I could see the scars trailing up and down his back, I was propped up on my elbows watching him. He stood back up and when he turned to face me I saw the tiny foil square between his fingers.

"Where'd you get that?" I asked, a blush creeping over my cheeks.

"Courtesy of Shane," He said, standing at the end of the bed, holding the condom up to me.

"You can come back," I said, patting the bed beside me. He paced back and forth and the end of the bed for a moment before crawling back under the sheets beside me and picking up where we left off.



For the first time in a long while, I slept well. I don't know if it was the safety I felt being beside Daryl or sleeping in an actual bed, but I had a restful night. In the morning, I awoke to an empty bed and birds singing on the other side of the bedroom window; I slipped out of bed and pulled my jeans on, forgoing my bra and boots for the moment. I made my way down the hall from the bedroom to the kitchen where Daryl stood, looking out the window and holding a glass of water. He was shirtless and in the daylight his scars stood out more.

"Morning," I said, making him turn to look at me. He gave me a shy smile, running a hand through his hair.

"Mornin'," he responded.

"Sleep well?" I questioned, leaning back with my hands flat on the counter top.

"Mhm," He murmured. I watched him rub the back of his neck for a few moments before he spoke, "How do you feel?"

I smiled, "Only had a little trouble walking."

Daryl's cheeks turned a light shade of crimson, "I mean, ah, how- did you sleep okay?"

"Yes," I laughed, watching him as he crossed the small room. He bent down and planted a light kiss on my lips, "How many did Shane give you?"

Daryl smiled and looked away, out the window, "Six."



We left the house around noon, back into the woods all affection between us cooled as we were on our toes, keeping our eyes and ears peeled for walkers and humans. After nearly two hours of walking - encountering about two dozen walkers - we came to the edge of the woods. From the camouflage of the foliage, we could see a wall made of sheet metal, cars, and tires. People sat atop the wall, holding various weapons. A sign posted on the wall read Woodbury.

"A town?" I whispered to Daryl, he shrugged as we crouched down, watching as the wall guards disposed of a walker.

"Yeah," He murmured.

"Should we go up there?" I asked, "They must have everything. They-"

"No," Daryl said, "We ain't goin' near this. We need to find everyone."

"What if they're in there?" I asked.

"Rick would avoid this place at all cost," Daryl answered, "We need to keep moving."

"You there," A voice called to us, "In the woods," One of the guardsmen held binoculars, "Come out with your hands raised."

"Fuck," Daryl spat from beside me, "You stay close to me, y'hear?"

"I will," I said as he grabbed my hand.

"Don't let go," he said, he raised our hands up, his cross bow slung over his shoulder as he lead us out of the woods and towards the gates.

"How many are there?" Another of the strangers asked when we were closer.

"Just us," Daryl answered.

"Open the gate," The voice called down. Moments later the gate, covered in sheet metal opened just enough for us to slip through.

"Walkin' into the lion's den," Daryl muttered, tightening his grip on my hand as we passed through and into Woodbury.

"Well, well, well," A voice said, I looked to find the source. He was an older, bald man and he was missing his right hand, in its place was a metal cap, "If it isn't my baby brother."