From the Shadows

The next day, Daryl decided to look for Sophia again, holding more hope than anyone in the camp. He told Rick, hoping he'd have Teagan be able to tag along with him. Since Teagan had no other plans, she agreed. She grabbed her things and headed out the door, meeting Daryl at the edge of the woods.

She walked back inside and almost slammed into Daryl.

“Ya know how to track?” Daryl asked.

“Enough to hunt a deer for a few miles. Shouldn't you be resting?”

“Probably. Got you ta help me though.”

“Did Hershel say you could?”

“Did Hershel give you permission when you up n left to hunt 'fore?”

If Daryl was determined to get up and leave, she might as well go with him and ensure his safety. She sighed. “Fine. How old is this little girl?”

“'Bout twelve, I think. Small 'n' thin. I had a few leads, but all turned up to nothin'.”

They walked together in dead silence. The only sound was of their feet on the forest floor. Daryl was quiet, but Teagan was quieter. She was smaller, and that was her advantage. She was so quiet, at one point, she disappeared from behind Daryl. He hadn't noticed for another ten or so minutes. He turned around and noticed she was gone. He swore to himself, called her a dumb bitch, and backtracked. She hadn't expected him to look for her, so when they met, they quite literally crashed, almost the second time that day. They both stumbled back, neither of them actually falling and hitting the ground.

“The HELL did ya go?” Daryl yelled.

“We're looking for a little girl, not hiking for recreation. I found something.” She quickly turned ion the direction she came, and Daryl huffed and followed.

They came upon an abandoned house. Small, one-story, and falling apart. The porch caved in on one side, but the steps led relatively safely into the house. Teagan out-stepped Daryl to the door, giving her the lead to search the premises for danger. One walker was frighteningly close to the door, but she stabbed it's head without hesitation, and without so much as a flinch. They stumbled upon a makeshift bed of blankets, the size of a child. Alongside was a small doll, that Daryl recognized as Sophia's.

Against better judgment, Teagan tried to make smalltalk. “Think she's around?”

“Thas what we're here to find out.” Daryl felt stupid for responding so sharply, realizing in hindsight she was talking to just talk. Normally, that annoyed him, but he knew so little about her, and thought she might actually have something interesting to say.

“So, erm, where'd you learn to fight like tha?” He referenced to their first meeting, but his vagueness confused her.

“What are you talking about? One walker is easy.”

“No, I mean' the four guys.”

She hesitated. She killed out of necessity, not sport. She felt awkward. “Uh, I'm small and fast I guess.”

“You made it look easy.”

“It was. A lot of places on the human body are fragile and fatal.” She tried being humorous, but it was never her strong suit.

They were silent for awhile, until Daryl surprisingly pushed the topic further. “Were they the first you killed?”

Teagan stopped dead in he tracks and stared at the ground between the two of them with angry eyes. She shook her head, and intentionally ignored him. This was not a topic she cared to talk about, with anyone at any time. “Let's keep going. It's getting dark.”

Daryl felt bad about the question, but couldn't bring himself to apologize. He never liked to admit his mistakes. He respected her non-answer, and they headed in a slightly different path going home.

At the farm's edge, they silently went their separate ways. Daryl headed towards Carol to give her the doll, and tell her that her precious daughter was still lost. Teagan could hear her start to cry. She didn't want to think about how much Carol loved her daughter, and how much it must hurt to lose her. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, held it in, and let it out. It was already fairly dark, so Teagan started to head back to the farmhouse to go to bed when she was stopped by Shane. He was a large man, and well-built. He seemed angry all the time, with wild eyes looking for disaster. Teagan didn't trust him. She didn't trust anyone, but she trusted him least. His presence was erratic, almost animalistic, and unpredictable. Teagan tried to ignore him, but he made a point to make himself known.

“Where ya goin'?” He grumbled. His voice slurred like a drunk's, but he hadn't had any alcohol to her knowledge.

“To bed.” She tried remaining stern, and in control.

Shane stepped in front of her, blocking her way. She tried to side-step away from him, and go around, but he grabbed her left shoulder roughly and pulled her back. “Don't go nowhere darlin'.”

Teagan scoffed and tried to rip out of his grip, but his hands were large and strong, and formed around her small shoulder too efficiently. “Do NOT call me that. Let go.”

“You bin here a few days an' never even looked at me. But I bin thinking about you.” His grip turned into a calloused and unwarranted massage. She was getting furious.

“I said let go of me.” She tried to pull away again, but failed. She hoped this interaction would stay relatively non-violent, that she could coerce her way out with words.

“Listen here: before all this, I got what I wanted. I don't expect that to change.” Shane's eyes grew dark. Teagan grew scared, but only for a second. No fear, you know better. She quickly was overwhelmed with rage.

“Let. Go. Of. Me. Now.” Shane did not let up, so she surprised him with a hard swing to his mouth with her right hand. She made solid contact, and he was bleeding. She hit so hard, her hand actually ached. Luckily she was left-handed. Shane was bent over, holding his mouth. “You fucking bitch!” He swung, but was slow and clumsy. She dodged, and hit him two more times. Shane managed one solid punch before she kicked his knee and he fell to the ground. The commotion was loud, and every member of the camp seemed to stir at once. Daryl hadn't gone to sleep, so was quickest on the move. Daryl ran towards to feud, and Rick joined, but from the opposite direction. Teagan pounced on Shane, with a knife in hand and held it to his throat.

Her green eyes seemed to turn black, and she hissed at Shane with a clenched jaw. “Don't ever fucking touch me again.” Teagan was fuming, so much that she didn't hear Rick and Daryl approach, and she definitely didn't hear Rick tell Daryl to pull her off Shane. In a split second, Daryl had his arms around her waist, and thrust her to a standing position. She flailed, and Daryl had a hard time keeping her restrained. He'd seen anger; it plagued his childhood. This, however, was the rawest and purest anger he'd ever seen. Shane unsteadily rose to his feet, and swore at her. “You'll regret this! You hear me! You'll fucking regret it!”

Shane stormed off in the opposite direction that Daryl was half-dragging Teagan. She had stopped struggling, but all she wanted was to be left alone. She didn't make it easy. Near his tent, he let her go, feeling they were far enough away from the rest of the camp.

“What the fuck was tha' all about?” He sounded angrier than he meant to. She rolled her eyes and blatantly ignored him.

He asked again, “Teagan, what the hell?” She glared at him, and bore holes through his eyes. He didn't like being stared at like that, like it was his fault. He knew it wasn't, but it made him uncomfortable.

“Just... tell me what happ-” he tried to sound more sincere this time, but was abruptly cut off.

“It doesn't matter. It's over. Done.” Her voice was so hard and sharp, he felt he'd break it if he could touch it.

“It does matter. Can't be startin' fights.”

“I didn't start shit! That asshole is to blame. NOT me!”

Daryl didn't want to push any further. He knew she was still fuming, and wouldn't talk about it. They were quiet for awhile and Daryl took a deep sigh and looked at her. “Stop swallowin'.”

Teagan fell from her dazed rage and looked up at him. “What?”

“Ya keep swallowin' blood. Gonna' make yaself sick.”

He was right. She didn't realize how much blood there was, until all she could taste and smell was warm, rusted copper. She put her right thumb to her lip and pulled it away red and wet. Daryl stepped towards her, and she instinctively backed away. His voice became soft, softer than either of them thought possible. “I ain't gonna hurt ya. Lemme see.”

Teagan let her guard down, just a little bit. She placed her hands by her side, away from defensive position, and let Daryl approach her. His hands were rough, but not mean. Calloused from work, but kind. He held her face with one hand, and touched her lips with the thumb of the other. She flinched, and he mumbled an apology. He kept looking at her lip, probably too long, then gave his diagnosis. “Might need a stitch er two.”

“Thanks.” Teagan said meekly. Daryl looked down and noticed her hands, already forming bruises.

“Did a number on them, huh?”

She looked and her knuckles, starting to bruise and swell. There was blood on them. Probably both Shane's and hers. Daryl grabbed her hands in his, and rotated them on the wrist to get a full inspection. “How the hell you hurt 'em this bad? Which hand are ya?”

“Left.”

“Why's your right more busted up?”

“Hit hardest with your opposite hand. You need a strong solid hit for an advantage. Hit hard enough, can't use the hand, and you can't cripple your dominant.”

“Never heard tha' before.”

“Always worked for me.”

Daryl and Teagan stood in fairly comfortable silence for a short while, until Daryl spoke.

“Should probably head to tha house. Rick'll wanna speak to ya, and we should get ya checked out.” He pointed to her wounds. She wanted to protest. She didn't want to talk to Rick. It wouldn't resolve anything. But she was exhausted, and didn't feel like putting up a fight anymore. Especially with Daryl.

“I'll walk with ya, if ya want.” Daryl offered. Teagan nodded, and they both headed off to he farmhouse. A few feet in front of the stairs, they saw Shane storm out of the house, and glare at both of them. Daryl reciprocated his glare, and Shane spit at Teagan's feet, and stomped away. Daryl nodded and stayed on the porch, and Teagan walked in. She saw Rick in the living room, sitting on the couch with a table and chair in front of him. Rick was already leaning forward, elbows on his knees and his sweaty head in his hands. He was very obviously stressed, and Teagan sat down in the chair across from him as quietly as possible. Rick looked up at her with heavy eyes. He rubbed his face, shook his head a little bit and made eye contact.

“What happened?” He wasted no time. Teagan focused on keeping her breath rhythmic and controlled. She didn't have a good enough answer for him yet.

“Teagan, tell me what went on.” She looked at him with a furrowed brow, and said what she said to Daryl, but with much less anger.

“It doesn't matter.”

“It does matter. This a group, and I need to know what happened.”

Teagan shifted uncomfortably, and said what she was trying to filter. “It doesn't, because Shane is your friend. I'm not part of this group. You wouldn't believe me, even if I spoke every bit of truth. It's my word versus his. I lost from the start. I'll just pack up an-”

Rick cut her off. “No. Sit down. Shane told me his side. I don't believe it. I want to hear yours.”

Teagan was stunned. Did he just say he didn't trust Shane? She was actually being considered. “Why wouldn't you believe him? He's your best friend.”

“He hasn't been himself lately. Short fuse. Irrational decisions. Besides, his side didn't make any sense. I doubt you'd come out of nowhere and attack him. You'd have a reason, and I want to know it.”

Teagan made direct eye contact, selecting her phrases intentionally. “He didn't listen when I told him to stop touching me. If anything, he attacked me.”

Rick rubbed his head in his hands, and nodded. “I'm sorry about that. I'll keep an eye on him. Get some rest.”

Teagan was about to turn away, but felt guilt creep from her stomach. Before she could stop herself from saying anything, she blurted out, “Next time, I'll kill him. I won't stop.”

Rick didn't seem phased by her comment at all. Somehow he knew she killed out of necessity, not leisure. To her surprise, he responded. “I know. Let's hope it doesn't get to that point.” With that, Teagan nodded and left the farmhouse. What she didn't know was that Daryl had sharp hearing, and he heard what happened between her and Shane. He was fuming. Nobody should ever be hit or touched inappropriately. He was unadmittedly protective of Teagan, and he'd be damned if Shane ever touched her again. When she walked out, she saw Daryl pacing.

“Are you okay?” Her voice was sincere, and concerned. He looked at her, and he seemed angry at her. She was confused, and stepped back a little bit. Daryl realized how scary he might have looked then, and softened his face, and relaxed his posture.

“Sorry, let's go.”

“Go where? I sleep here, remember? And you do, too. For now, anyway. We should probably be getting to bed.”

Without thinking, Daryl blurted out, “We can go to my tent, if ya want.” He realized what he said immediately and blushed, which luckily couldn't be seen in the dark. He tried to make it better, but stuttered. “I m-mean, not like tha-, but, uh, only if ya want... I guess.” He shifted uncomfortably. Teagan was uncomfortable, but for a different reason. She had a feeling the gesture wasn't intended to be sexual, and Daryl had tried to quickly retract his statement. She was nervous because she wanted to, but knew she shouldn't. She wanted nothing more, to her surprise, than to be right next to Daryl. I'll be leaving soon... it wouldn't be fair. She bit her lip, and stared at the ground. She was conflicted. Daryl grew awkward and began to apologize when Teagan cut him off with a shy “yes.” They walked back to his tent, farthest from everyone else's, in silence.

“It's not tha big, but it does what it s'posed ta.”

Teagan smiled, and waited for some physical or verbal permission to go inside. Daryl noticed his hesitation, and unzipped the door. “After you.” She crawled in, and laid on the side without the mattress.

“Thas not where yer sleepin'. This side.” He pointed to the mattress. Teagan felt awkward, because she was a guest, and this was his tent, not hers. She wrinkled her nose, but crawled over anyway. Daryl started to take off his shoes, and noticed she didn't.

“Gonna get comfy or what?” He kindly growled. I think his voice is a permanent growl, she thought to herself.

“Huh?”

“Yer boots are still on.”

“Oh, uhm, yeah. I tend to leave them on.”

“Why?”

“In case I need to run. Or fight. Or whatever else.” She paused between her examples, as if making them up on the spot. Daryl didn't really respond, only made a small grunt. They fell asleep facing away from each other.