Walking Dead 1. For Quickfinger82 - Bethyl

Title: Ain't Afraid of Nothin'

Prompt: Jealous Daryl

Summary: The Alexandria Safe Zone has become their home. Daryl, helping Rick keep things in working order, has become used to the attention that comes with leading a community. However, when Beth starts earning the attention of a certain member in their society, how will Daryl react? ONESHOT *AU Beth LIVES!* For PrintDust's holiday fic exchange.

**Disclaimer:** A nod to the genius Robert Kirkman for creating this wonderfully dark, post-apocalyptic world. I do not own or have rights to any of the characters/plot of this series. I'm simply a fan indulging in my post-apocalyptic fantasies.

**THANK YOU**to my amazing BETA Nicole and to PrintDust for reading over this and allowing me to participate in the holiday fic exchange! XOXO

…

Daryl sharpened his blade against a whet stone in an attempt to keep his hands busy. The group that had left for a supply run was over a day late. It wasn't normally that much of a concern for those out trading supplies to be a little past their scheduled return, but a whole day was worrisome.

"Any sign of 'em?" Rick asked as he entered the guard station.

"Nah. Been quiet all afternoon," Daryl answered making another long swipe down the whet stone.

"I'm sure she just wanted to stay and visit a little longer," Rick stated confidently.

"Yeah," Daryl wasn't completely convinced.

"Beth's knows what she's doin'. She's been in charge of the supply runs for over a year and been goin' out there longer than that. She'll be alright," Rick patted his shoulder and Daryl appreciated the gesture.

"I know she's capable," Daryl huffed, "It's her worryin' for everyone else's safety but her own that concerns me."

Rick's soft laughter only further annoyed the brooding redneck.

"Sounds like someone else I know," Rick squeezed his shoulder and pulled away, "I'm sure she's just spendin' some extra time with her nephew. They'll be back soon."

Daryl glanced up and squinted his eyes.

Off in the distance he could see a few horses in the distance and rose from his seated position.

"Seems you're right," Daryl said walking past him to stand at the gates.

As they approached Daryl realized the wagon was missing while Rosita pulled a horse behind her and suddenly there was a sense of urgency in their arrival. A flash of blond caught his attention and he noticed that Beth was riding without a saddle, on a different horse than she usually rode, bracing someone between her slender arms. There was a rush of voices barking out orders to have people ready for the group when they reached the gates.

"What tha' hell happened," Daryl asked as he helped the younger man out of Beth's hold.

"We ran into 'ah herd," her tone sounds as exhausted as she looks.

Handing the man off to be taken to their med bay, Daryl reached back up for Beth. She slid into his arms and had it not been for his hold, he was sure she would have collapsed on the ground. Her clothes clung to her and her hair was soaked around her face from her exertion, mirroring the appearance of her horse.

"Brody's horse bucked him off. I jumped down to keep the walkers off of him, but there were so many," her voice took a hollow tone, "I held Doc's reins, trying to keep him away from the walkers, but they got him on the leg."

Doc had been Beth's favorite horse. When she wasn't at home, he could find her at the stables, making sure her horse had food and water. If it had been after a particularly long supply run she would take extra time to groom him; cleaning his hooves, bathing him to wash away the sweat and grime, and trimming his mane and braiding his tail to keep it out of the reach of walkers as best she could. Daryl sometimes found himself being jealous of that horse.

"I made it quick," her voice shook as she pulled the pistol out of the holster on her hip and Daryl knew one of the bullets had been used for Doc, "While they were…_busy_ with Doc, I cut the horses loose from the wagon and Rosita helped me get Brody on one of 'em. She pulled the other behind her."

Daryl knew she was putting up a strong front and likely fall to pieces as soon as they were behind closed doors, but he was proud of her nonetheless. She had acted quickly and likely saved the lives of not only a member of Alexandria, someone's child and older brother, but also some of their livestock. She had sacrificed a piece of her heart to get everyone back safe.

"Come'on. Let's get you cleaned up," he could tell her mask was beginning to crumble and shifted her arm over his shoulder to support her weight.

Little did Daryl know that the incident with Beth was already being spread through the community and the loss of Beth's horse would be the least of his problems.

…

The first time Daryl noticed a boost in Beth's popularity was when she'd gone to the 'market' to restock their cupboards.

They'd never outright discussed sharing their residence, it had just happened. After Maggie and Glenn moved to Hilltop, Beth found herself at his place more often than not. She didn't like to be alone any more than he did and with space beginning to get tight as more and more people joined their community, Daryl had come home one day to find a blond haired, blue-eyed girl unpacking all of the meager possessions she had owned from her tattered backpack. After that, Beth never left, and Daryl didn't mind.

He was standing across the road, getting a report on the herd that had attacked Beth's group a few days earlier when he noticed a younger man offering to help her carry her items home. It had been the same younger man Beth had brought back home, unconscious, and had ultimately cost the life of her precious friend. The look on her face was one of confusion and she politely declined his offer. Daryl hadn't had time to fully process the situation because it had been just a few moments later that she had unloaded one of the woven baskets they owned, full of vegetables, in his arms and they were walking back home.

He'd grumbled under his breath the entire way, but Beth had seemed oblivious to the extra attention. Brushing off the incident when her fingers laced through his as they walked down the road, Daryl had spent the rest of the day trying to keep her occupied and the memory of a certain dark brown, quarter horse out of her thoughts.

Even with the horse dead…he still had to compete with Doc for Beth's attention.

…

The second time Daryl had noticed that Beth had an admirer was a common occurrence over the course of the next two weeks. Beth had been spending extra time with her supply runners as well as meeting with the herders to make sure their runs always coincided after the walkers had been lead away from the trade routes. He knew the meetings were a necessary precaution, as their last encounter with the undead could have been much more volatile, but it seemed like every time he saw Beth…that _guy_ was at her side.

It hadn't bothered him at first, because they _were _in the same group after all, but then he'd seen the way her shadow looked at her. Beth, _being_ Beth, was completely oblivious to the man's longing stares, but Daryl had noticed. He had noticed how close the supply runner would walk beside her or how the younger man continued conversing with her for as long as he possibly could. He'd even had the nerve to come 'escort' her to one of the meeting while Daryl had been standing right beside her. She had refused, explaining that she wanted to spend a few extra minutes with Daryl before attending the meeting, and her admirer gave a nod, and Daryl a quick once over, before turning and walking away.

Daryl had been ready to jump the guy when Beth tugged him into the shadowed alley way between two buildings and they'd made the most of the few minutes of free time she'd had left. Mollified, Daryl had tried to push the fact that he hadn't been seen as a threat out of his mind.

Beth's fingers in his hair and name on her lips had made the task effortless.

…

Daryl's mood had gradually begun to sour during the past month. The past few days he'd been more on edge, especially short fused, and had even verbally lashed out at Beth a few times because of his pent up frustration. However the third and final straw for Daryl in regards to Beth's _not_-so-subtle admirer happened at the gates.

She'd lead a group on another supply run, the first since the incident with the herd, and as they approached the gates the man, who had become the bane of his existence, hopped down from his horse and offered Beth a hand climbing down from her saddle. She had ignored his offer and climbed down on her own, but Daryl had seen the way the man's hands had lingered close by.

Daryl clenched his jaw so tightly it made his head hurt and balled his hands into fists. The moment her eyes found his, she turned to the younger man beside her said a few words, and then made her way to him through the crowd.

"Hey," she said with a smile.

Daryl's glare turned from the man down to Beth.

"Are you still mad about the other day?" She asked while her eyes danced over his face.

In all honesty, he couldn't even remember what the argument had been about, but he knew they had parted on bad terms. It had killed him the entire time she was gone because both of them had been too stubborn to make things right. The thought of something _happening _while they were out there, kept him up at night. He would never be able to live with the memory that in their last moments together they had been fighting. The worst part was he knew he had jumped at the first opportunity to fight with her because he didn't know how else to address the uncertainties he was dealing with. Thus, seeing her at the gates, alive and well should have been a wonderful moment, if he hadn't let a certain supply runner ruin it for him.

Realizing Beth was still expecting an answer and not trusting his voice, Daryl shook his head to say 'no.'

"Umm…good then," she furrowed her brows, obviously not buying his answer.

"I've got to drop off the report to Rick. Wanna' come with me?" She pulled a folded up piece of paper from her back pocket.

Daryl didn't bother replying and turned to make his way toward Rick's quarters.

Beth fell into step beside him, not bothering to try and make small talk, and he could _feel _her dejection from their reunion. She'd been gone for three days, taking supplies to Hilltop as well as visiting with Glenn, Maggie, and her nephew Hershel. It was the longest she'd been gone in a while and though he'd never admit it to her, it had been nearly a solid seventy-two hours since he'd been able to sleep.

Reaching the gate to Rick's house, Daryl decided to wait at the gate, giving a small wave while Beth passed along her information. By the time she'd finished, Daryl felt calmer than he had when they arrived. As they walked home, he tried to think of a way to start his apology. He knew he needed to explain his behavior, but everything he imagined in his head failed to grasp the full extent of his inner demons. Beth was unusually quiet as well which did absolutely nothing to boost his morale.

As their house came into view, Daryl steeled himself for the calamity that would occur as soon as they entered their home.

"What tha' hell is goin' on with you?" Beth huffed as she closed the door to their house.

"I dunno' what you're talkin' about," Daryl grouched while marching to the bedroom.

He did know, however he hadn't come up with a way to put his apprehensions into words.

"I'm talkin' about the whole 'I look like I'm ready to kill somethin'' vibe that you've got goin' on lately," she replied as she followed behind him. "Everyone knows you can be an ass, but this has gone on long enough."

"I could give a shit what everyone else thinks 'ah me," Daryl spat, dropping his crossbow with much more force than necessary.

"Daryl…" Beth sighed, "What's wrong?"

Taking a deep breath he turned to her and scowled. When her face, full of genuine hurt and distress, didn't falter, he felt his glare slip.

"_Talk to me,_" she urged barely above a whisper.

His shoulders sagged in defeat, "I jus' don't like him."

"Who?" Beth's brows furrowed in confusion.

"That…_guy_…one that you brought in on tha' horse that one time," Daryl threw and arm up as he spoke.

"You mean Brody?" Beth questioned in a tone of disbelief, "He's part of my crew. I think he's got a soft spot for me-"

"Oh he's got more than that for ya'," Daryl grumbled.

"-but he's just 'ah friend. I 'saved his life' and he feels like he owes me or somethin'. I dunno'. It's nothin' t'worry about though," Beth tried to sound comforting.

"You see it that way, but I seen tha' way he looks at you," Daryl hissed and ground his teeth together.

There was a lull in the conversation before Beth let out a small laugh.

"Daryl Dixon," she planted her hands on her hips and held a smirk on her lips, "Are you…_jealous_?"

"I ain't jealous. I jus' don't share well with others," Daryl countered immediately.

"That sounds _exactly_ like jealousy t'me," Beth sassed.

"Tha' prick needs t'go find his own girl t'chase. Should be pretty obvious you're spoken for," Daryl grumbled with his arms crossed, "And I ain't jealous."

Since the day she had returned, unharmed and completely capable to taking care of herself and her group, Daryl had felt uneasy. It wasn't the fact that she was capable, but the fact that he no longer felt like she needed him. Add to that all the attention Brody had been giving her, the time she'd been spending with the supply runners to ensure that what had happened a few weeks ago never happened again, and the fact that he had his own responsibilities in Alexandria that kept him from being able to watch her back on those runs had all begun to weigh on him. Brody was there for her when it should be him. Beth must have connected the dots between his words and his thoughts from the change in her expression.

"Ya' know…I think that's the most romantic thing you've ever said to me," Beth's teasing smirk quickly turning into a full smile.

"Yeah, well don't get used to it," Daryl brushed off her sentiments while they tugged at his heartstrings.

As Beth approached him, renowned Greene determination expressed clearly on her features, Daryl held his ground.

"I'll talk to Brody tomorrow and make it _very _clear to him that I'm not interested. I'll tell him t'back off," she said while standing in front of him.

"Do whatever ya' want," Daryl shrugged, but he knew Beth had seen right through his nonchalance.

"A lil' jealousy is healthy. Means you're afraid of losin' your significant other," she said with a lilt to her voice while rising up on her toes to reach him, "Also sounds like _you _need a reminder on where I keep my heart."

Any reply to her statement was swallowed as her lips pressed against his. With each step she took forward, he matched taking a step back, and it wasn't long before he felt the edge of the bedframe press against the back of his legs.

A gentle shove and Daryl found himself sitting on the plush mattress, while bright blue eyes shined knowingly as she climbed onto his lap. His thoughts melted away as warm hands began roaming and soft lips left trails of fire on his skin.

Daryl had claimed that he wasn't afraid of anything. That he was used to things being bad and he didn't need to depend on anyone for anything, but that had changed. She had become such an irrevocably important part of his life that the thought of her no longer being by his side…no longer being _his_…was inconceivable. So there was in fact _one_ thing in this world that he feared…

_Daryl Dixon was afraid of losing Beth Greene_…_and he might've been a little jealous._


	2. For ObsessedWithStabler - Caryl

** For ObsessedWithStabler**

Daryl fell to his knees. A hearse with a white cross in the back window was driving down the road. He didn't know which fork it had taken. But he did know one thing for sure: it had taken Beth.

Daryl ranted, screamed, cried, and threw things. He punched trees. When all the noise he was making attracted walkers, he killed them. Ferociously. In the end, he knew nothing could bring Beth back. Only he could do that. The tires on the car were difficult to track on the muddy gravel road. He made it a half mile, and the trail ran cold. At another damn fork in the road.

He knew one direction led toward Atlanta, but that couldn't be where the hearse was headed. Daryl had seen the city himself. It was bombed out and infested with millions of the undead.

He took the left fork, confident he had deduced the correct direction. He encountered nothing but walkers that whole day. He found a nice grove, overlooking a hill. Nothing could come up the crest and suprise him.

He strung some aluminum cans on twine around a good 15 foot square area. You could never be too careful, he reasoned. Daryl built a small fire, careful to be quiet as he roasted a squirrel over the embers. He grumbled quietly. A shoddy squirrel was the new standard of his meals. He kept watch, and eyed the fire as the coals slowly died. Finally, it was time to get some rest.

Daryl groaned and pulled out his downy coat. He stuffed his arms into it roughly. Scanning the area surrounding his campsite one more time, Daryl sucumbed to slumber.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

" Hey, I think the kid's waking up!"

Daryl tilted his head in confusion. Blinking, he realized that he was now inside somewhere. Where the hell was he? And who was talking? He needed to exact revenge for them calling him a baby goat. He tried to stretch, and realized that he was taped to a chair. That would hurt to take off, he sighed.

"Mornin' Sunshine! You're finally awake. So, who are you? I've been dying to know." A voice asked, drawing Daryl's attention.

An older man with silver hair and beard was crouching on the floor about five feet from Daryl's front. Daryl didn't answer.

"You're gonna be that way? Fine." The man says.

He scoots closer to Daryl and draws back his arm, artfully shaping his knuckles into a fist. Daryl knows what's coming, and braces himself. It hurts, and he spits blood. Next time, Daryl vowed, he'd spit in the man's mouth.

"Good one Danny! Got this fella here right in the kisser!" Daryl diverted his furious gaze to the speaker. A chubby guy was guarding the door. It was on his right, Daryl noted.

"Shut up, Chuck!" Danny exclaimed.

"Now..." He said, his attention once again focused upon Daryl.  
>"Who are you? What were you doin' up in our neck o' the woods? If you don't answer, it's gonna be much more painful for ya." Danny drawled.<p>

Daryl once again remained silent.

"That does it!" Danny yells.

Even though he knows it's coming, it doesn't make the furious punches hurt any less. He takes them in absolute silence.

"I don't think he's gonna say anything, boss. Maybe he's mute." Chuck says. Daryl internally smirks.

"Nah. He just don't wanna talk." Danny gives Daryl a calculating look. Damn. He wasn't as easily fooled. Danny just looks at him for several minutes. He finally takes action.

Danny takes a step back, then lunges forward, and delivers a striking kick to Daryl's temple. It hurts like hell, and then, blackness.

Daryl wakes up on the forest floor. He jumps up. He has no idea where he is, so he climbs a tree to scout. He sees a flash of blue-gray, and mousy brown hair. The thing walks with a bit of grace, so it must be a person.

Daryl scales back to the ground, and heads in the direction of the thing. After three long and hard miles, he's convinced he was hallucinating.

"Hello." A quiet voice says behind him. Daryl wheels around.

The face is so familiar. Chubby cheeks, a button nose. Almond eyes and small, pink lips. A ratty, tangled bob surrounds her now haggard face. The trees whisper solemnly, adding to the drama.

It could not be. But yet it was. Daryl's mputh fell open. He couldn't form a coherent thought, let alone words. He struggled for a moment, and finally a whisper escapes through the steel girders that are his lips.

"Sophia?" He says, incredibly confused.

"Hello, Mr. Dixon." Sophia politely replies.

"Well, I thiught...You were dead." Daryl says shakily.

"I am." She says calmly.

"Am I dead? Oh no! No! No! No! Your mom! Who will take care of her? Or Beth?" Daryl starts freaking out.

"No, you dummy! You're alive. Well, mostly. That mean guy kicked you pretty hard." Sophia says with a small frown.

"Hey!" Daryl laughs, although he responds with a stern look.

"I have a question..." She hesitates.

"Shoot." Daryl replies.

"Is my mom okay?" Sophia aks.

"Yeha. At leats, I hope so. She sure misses you, but she's fine. She still loves you very e also made sure you had a proper burial. It was on a beautiful farm, but we had to leave it. I'll have to visit it, and bring you flowers." Daryl gushes. This is the most he's talked in ages. He smiles. All it took was Carol's curious daughter.

"I'm glad. When you see Mon again, can you tell her I love her?" Sophia requests.

"Of course. I'm sure she'd want me to tell you she loves you very much." Daryl says.

"Okay. Thank you so much, Mr. Dixon. I'm sure you'll take very good care of Mom and Beth. You'll see them both agian soon." Sophia sya, a secret hushed in her voice.

The last thing Daryl remebered was laughing at how much like Carol Sophia had been.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Daryl smelt smoke. He coughed, and looked around in confusion. Nobody was in the concrete interrogation room with him. The door was slightly open, which was the source of the smoke.

He was, unfortunately, still duct taped to the chair. His ankles were taped together, then to the chair, so he couldn't stand up and walk away. He was stuck.

Daryl now heard gunfire, and masculine yelling. He heard a knife sing as it was buried in something. A body must haev fallen to the floor, because he heard a loud thump. A muttered curse and footsteps followed. The footsteps get closer, and now are right outside the door. A light push by the infiltrator opened the door.

A familiar grizzled mane of gray hair greeted Daryl. Carol was a sight for sore eyes. She stealthily walked to Daryl, and began sawing the tape off. It took a while, but she managed. When it came time to rip the tape off, a muted "Sorry" floated up to Daryl's ears. A quick arm motion by Carol, and now he had no hair follicles in his right ankle.

He grunted, but otherwise kept quiet. Carol finished ripping the tape off. Daryl jumped to his feet and rubbed his wrists furiously. He stretched and turned to Carol.

"How'd you get in here? And how did you find me?" He asks.

Without a word, Carol hands Daryl his crossbow.

"Well?" He asks.

"We can disscuss this later." Carol deadpans, turning away so he can't see her face.

Daryl took a peek around the corner. Three guards lay on the floor, either dead or dying. He withdrew from the doorway.

"Are there any new guards?" Carol asks.

"No. I'm waiting to see if any new ones turn up." Daryl replies.

"Lat's go. We need to hurry. I set off alarms, and all that noise will draw walkers." Carol calmly explains, just like Sophia.

"Okay, but stay behind me." Daryl agrees.

Carol say nothing, but obeys.

They make it down the long hallway, following the trail of bodies. Carol silently checks to make sure each had been dispatched properly. Carol leads Daryl to a back door.

"There are snipers on the roof!' She warns, to which he silently nods.

As quietly as possible, Daryl pushes open the door. It must have been soundproof, becuase once it's open, Daryl can hear an alarm wailing. He pushes the door open more, and surveys the outside for walkers. Nothing in the immediate area catches his attention. He shoves the exit open just a tiny bit wider. Nothing.

Daryl notices an old dumpster and several cargo boxes strewn across the lot.

"Okay, see those cargo boxes? We're going to run for it. Don't say anything about where we're going, who we are, or anything that could lead them to find us." Daryl says.

Carol responds with a quick, jerky nod.

"Let's go." Daryl says.

They run. Daryl makes sure he is shielding her at all times. She can't die. And neither can he. At least not until he relays Sophia's message to Carol.

Gun shots ring out, hitting the crumbled asphalt by their feet. The snipers weren't very good shots. Carol had warned him they were there, not that they were good.

They finally made it to the cargo boxes and ducked behind them. Carol was panting hard.

"Thanks!" She heaved out.

"I'm the one who should be thanking you! How did you find me?" Daryl questions.

"I was following your tracks before you were taken. You've been here about 36 hours. I just watched, learned what I could and headed in to rescue you." Carol explains.

"All that in 36 hours?'

"Yeah."

A gunshot hits a cargo box, ringing on the metal.

"Okay, since they haven't sent anyone out after us, it's time to run. Head for that clearing in the forest." Daryl discreetly points it out.

Carol nods.

"Ready?'

"Lat's go already!" Daryl loves her attitude.

They flat out sprint. Many shots are close to hitting their targets, but don't make it. A bullet whizzes past Daryl's ear, and he recoils.

Once they're in the grove, Carol pulls Daryl into a tight embrace.

"I've missed you so much! I thought you were dead!" Carol sobs.

"Well, Mother," Daryl exaggerates the last word,  
>"I was pretty worried about you myself." He says.<p>

"Oh, over little old me? I can take care of myself." She says with blase.

"I know. I'm just suprised you pulled off a rescue all by yourself."

"What is family for?" Carol replies with a wink.


	3. For Cutie101 - Grimes Family

He could remember a time that that little bundle of blankets and limbs had been a sour reminder of what had been taken from him. That everything that he had held dear could be replaced by something else, something he hadn't even been sure he wanted.

Judith's brown hair had grown to below her ears, the colour so similar to Lori's it sometimes made his heart ache.

The door slammed and he looked over to see Tyreese come in with Carol just behind him clutching a cardboard box. They had left an hour or so ago on a supply run. Rick went over to take it from her, and set it on the rickety table. Something near the bottom caught his eye, and he pulled it out. It was a red and green box, holding the necessities for a gingerbread house; it was old, obviously inedible.

She smiled and nodded her head towards Carl and Judith by the stairs, "It'll be good for them."

Rick glanced over at them. Carl was patiently waiting as the toddler ambled around. She was picking up random toys from the floor and handing them to him.

Carol stepped out of the room, taking some of the food away to share with the others leaving him, and his kids alone.

"So," Rick started gruffly, and then cleared his throat, "what do you think?"

He held up the Christmas box and he could see Carl look at it uncertainly.

Carl stood up and picked up Judith, who was in the middle of grabbing an old cat toy that had been left behind, before making his way over to his dad at the counter. Judith was set down on the grey tiles caressing the felt mouse in her chubby hands.

Rick began to pull everything out of the box. Stale walls, hard gummies, icing that was oddly still crisp white. Judith dropped the mouse in favour of clutching the red food colouring, before sticking into her mouth.

"Mom use to make these," Carl started to say, "I use to help her… until I thought I was too old." He winced at the wasted time, as he stroked Judith's hair from her face.

Rick just nodded, Lori always wanted to do things like that, family stuff. He rubbed his face, stroking the greying beard.

Carl reached over his little sister and began toying with the pieces, relinquishing one after the other when they caught Judith's eyes. Once everything was pulled out of the box Rick walked away, and picked up an old cutting board from one of the cupboards.

Rick pulled out the instructions and began reading them, but Judith tugged on the paper, obviously now interested in it.

Carl shook his head, "That ain't how you do it. We ought to make it how we like, however we like."

Rick looked down at the assortment of disjointed things, not knowing where to start. Bright coloured jelly beans, m&ms, and red liquorish, and he was struck with the memory of Lori delicately placing the liquorish to make doors, and windows with a little m&m door handle.

"How 'bout we start with the structure." Rick suggested, and began putting the icing down to hold it all together. Carl helped, holding the walls together while Rick tried to put the icing in to glue it.

The roof proved to be the most difficult, taking extra care; Rick and Carl held it on for longer until they were sure it would slide off, again. Judith was the only one who seemed interested in talking. She was babbling on adamantly while shifting her gaze from Rick to Carl, and then back again.

Rick picked up the liquorish and Carl opened up the jelly beans. Rick began following Lori's lead, breaking the red candy until they were the right sizes and then started gluing them to the side of the house.

Carl gave Judith jellybeans, showing her how to stick them on the roof, and then left her to her own devices. Rick couldn't help but smile at the haphazard array that started to shape in front of him. Judith's little fingers pushing a quarter of the colourful beans into her mouth before they made it on the house.

Rick and Carl worked diligently; they both seemed to have the same image in their heads. Red windows and doors, icing hanging from the roof like icicles, memories from Christmases in the past filling their brains.

Once everything was stuck on, they took a step back. Rick picked up Judith, holding her to his chest.

The bottom half was similar to what they were going door, different, but not wrong, and the top. So random in the colour and ways Judith had smushed the little jellys on that it didn't resemble what had always been.


	4. For Razztaztic - RickMichonne

Holiday Fic Exchange submission by LobsterLobster

These were my prompt options:

1. Rick, Michonne, sparks fly  
>2. Merle kidnaps Beth, Glenn saves her.<br>3. The group saves a traumatized child who tries to kill them while they sleep.

Now, I really did consider doing something different and not choosing the Richonne prompt, but homicidal children isn't really my style and the only reason I could think of for Merle kidnapping Beth was a game of cops and robbers gone horribly wrong…

Anyway, I chose the first prompt. I hope you like it! Happy Holidays, everyone!

….

Close Your Eyes

It was late afternoon when then prison gates clanked shut behind the pick-up truck. Michonne drove up the hill to the parking area near the cell blocks. Glenn and Maggie jumped out to start unloading.

"Daddy, you won't believe what we found!" Maggie called.

Hershel headed over from where he had been helping Carol set up for the evening meal.

Michonne retrieved her sword from the rack at the back of the truck cab and walked around to the back of the truck.

She let down the tailgate and pulled one of the full canvas bags to the edge, checking that the contents were safe and sound.

Carol came over to help them unload, smiling when she saw what they'd brought, but Michonne paused, looking around to see if anyone else was coming.

She'd gotten used to the sight of Carl running to greet her, followed shortly by Rick, whenever she returned from a trip outside the prison fences, but now the father and son duo were nowhere to be seen.

_Carl must have finished his chores and gone inside. But where is –_

"Rick's over there," Hershel supplied as if he had read her mind, nodding towards the garden with a knowing smile.

Michonne smiled her thanks and looked back at the row of canvas bags in the back of the truck. She scooped up a handful of blueberries and walked casually across the gravel driveway.

It was late summer and the corn stalks had grown tall. Michonne wandered through the rows slowly, enjoying the peace, before she found what she was looking for.

Rick Grimes knelt in the dirt, digging up weeds and tossing them aside, humming along to the music playing in his ears. Michonne reached out her hand to tap him on the shoulder.

"Oh!" he startled, dropping his trowel and fumbling to turn off his mp3 player as he stood up.

"You're back," Rick looked at her happily, "I, uh, didn't hear the gate."

"I got you something," Michonne smiled coyly.

Rick looked curious but also like he was trying hard not to look too curious.

"Close your eyes," Michonne instructed.

"What?" Rick frowned.

"You heard me," Michonne repeated, unable to hide a grin, "Close your eyes. Trust me."

"Alright," Rick agreed hesitantly.

He closed his eyes, shifted his feet uncertainly.

"Open your mouth," Michonne directed.

"Now, hold on," Rick peeked open one eye, having second thoughts about whether he wanted to play this game.

"Come on, Rick, just do it," she said, "It'll be good, I promise."

"Okay," he said slowly, closing his eyes again.

He opened his mouth slightly and Michonne took her hand out from behind her back. She chose a plump blueberry and popped it into Rick's mouth, watching his face expectantly.

Rick's trepidation gave way to pleasure as he realized what it was.

"I can't tell you the last time I ate a blueberry," Rick's smile sparkled in his eyes.

"We stumbled across a farm," Michonne said, popping a few berries into her mouth.

Rick shifted closer to her and put his hand under her hand that was holding the berries. He picked another blueberry to eat.

"We picked as much as we could before too many walkers showed up," Michonne explained while they shared the little stash of fruit, "maybe we'll go back again, bring some bushes for you to plant here."

"I'd love that," Rick said, and Michonne belatedly realized that they'd eaten all of the berries but he was still holding her hand.

There was something about the blue sky summer sunshine and the way Rick's eyes crinkled when he smiled at her and the reassuring warmth of his hand on hers that made Michonne feel like, after all those long months of wandering, that this, right here, was where she belonged.

_This is home now_, the small voice in her head whispered, and in that moment she believed it.

And so, she didn't pull away when Rick tilted his head the way he did when he was thinking hard about something, looked her directly in the eyes, and moved to kiss her. In fact, she even stood on her toes just a little bit and tilted her chin up to meet his kiss.

She closed her eyes, savoring the moment. The kiss was sweet and warm, promising many more in the future, and tasted faintly of blueberries, which Michonne decided right then and there were her favorite fruit.

The End!


	5. For LobsterLobster - HershelGeneral

**Fleeting Seasons' Mistletoes**

"Is that…mistletoe?" Daryl is caught under the entrance to the cell block—caught not being quite the right word, but Beth Greene is giggling at him from where she is perched at a table, Judith babbling and grabbing at her food.

Beth smiles, "Yup. Glenn found a box of Christmas things on their last run. It's gettin' cold, says we might as well celebrate."

"Celebrate?" Daryl says, squinting at the blonde girl. He's half-scowling, and she shrugs, turns back to the baby.

"I was thinkin' of maybe setting up a White Elephant typa thing for all of us here," she says, eyes focused on the little girl in front of her, "since we still ain't used to all the Woodbury folks yet. What do you think?"

Daryl keeps watching her for a moment, then shrugs when she looks up at him, expecting an answer. "Not my business," he says, "do what you need to," before turning on his heel, probably off to track dinner. Beth makes a face at Judith.

"All these folks are borin', aren't they?" she says, and Judith just presses sticky fingers to Beth's face, making the young woman laugh.

"Hey," Glenn greets as Maggie's about to walk out from the watch tower.

"Hey yourself," she tries to say, but Glenn's got one arm around her waist and a hand on her jaw, swallowing up the words in a kiss. She hums against the affectionate display, and when they pull apart she raises a brow.

"Now what's all this about?" she says, smiling, and there's a twinkle in Glenn's eye.

"Look up," he tells her, and when she just frowns in confusion he taps her chin, making her look up and see the plastic shine of mistletoe. She laughs.

"Really?" she says, "Mistletoe? I didn't think you'da kept that box of decorations."

"Why not?" he says, arms still wrapped around her. She leans into the embrace; "'Tis the season and all, isn't it?"

"Mm," she says, kissing him again, "a bit hard to get into the holiday spirit when you've got walkers to slaughter every other day."

"You're too generous," Glenn says as they sway together, "maybe every third day? Woodbury people have got their own chores too. Everyone gets walker duty."

"Y'know it's not the same," Maggie smiles, pulling away when Glenn's hands start to creep up her shirt. It's tacky with sweat, not that that's ever stopped the two of them in the humid summer. "Besides," she says, "farmin' ain't exactly somethin' you pick up after a day or two of work."

"Rick's doing well, you think?" Glenn says after a beat. He takes her hands in his. She sucks in a breath.

"Yeah," she says, "he's doin' pretty good, I'd say." They stay quiet for a moment, and then Maggie disentangles their fingers.

"Shift change, right?" she says to Glenn, and he smiles softly at her.

"Yeah."

"Great," she says, more to herself, and then, before stepping out of the tower, takes a step towards Glenn, hands on his chest. She kisses him.

"Merry Christmas," she says, and grins to herself all the way back to the cells.

Karen bumps into Tyreese with a muffled, "Oh!" and barely manages to not drop the plate of food she's got in her hand. Maggie had asked her to take it up to Glenn; apparently she and the rest of the Greene's were trying to plan a Secret Santa, though it might have just been Beth's and Hershel's idea. Karen smiled to herself at the thought of the three of them, and then looked up to thank Tyreese for catching the plate she'd been carrying.

He's blushing, and it takes Karen a second to see why. She says, "Oh!" yet again. Tyreese is looking anywhere but her, and there's a few chuckles behind them. Carol's serving dinner today, and Karen doesn't have to turn around to know she's watching them with a knowing smile. Karen can feel a blush coming on, too.

"Well," she says, and it's just this side too loud. Both she and Tyreese wince, but she continues, "it must be close to Christmas, right?" before going on her tip-toes and pressing a kiss to the corner of Tyreese's mouth. He freezes, and then she's breezing past him, face red and dinner no doubt going to be cold by the time she gets to Glenn.

He raises his eyebrows at her and grins. "Did you get caught under the mistletoe?" and she sputters. He glances at the one over her and she glares at him after seeing him.

"_You're_ not getting a kiss from me," she says, voice embarrassed and irritated.

"No," he says, "I'm not going to even comment on that possibility. I'm just wondering who did?" and she scowls as she stomps down the steps, his laugh ringing in her ears even as she remembers the warmth of Tyreese's skin against her mouth.

The Secret Santa ends up being far smaller than Beth had originally envisioned, but with Hershel being the main driving force behind it she couldn't complain. Taking care of Judith took up most of her time and energy, and really she was more grateful for her father's aid than anything. In the meantime, she'd gotten caught under the mistletoe with Carl, who had blushed in what had to have been irritation, because she'd ended up kissing his cheek as he passed Judith to her. She grins at the memory.

It's been a week since Hershel had made the announcement that the White Elephant would be taking place, and nearly everyone who had chosen to take part was there. Beth had gotten Carol—and she'd managed to wrangle Glenn into bringing her back something pretty from their runs. It was a brooch that Beth had managed to slice her finger on while looking through the supplies Glenn had picked up. She figured it could cause enough injury to be a worthy gift for Carol, who (at least in her opinion) deserved all the deadly pretty things they could find.

That's how Beth saw her, in all honestly. Lovely and deadly, like a lioness. She grins when the woman in question catches her eye as she walks in, and then starts laughing when Daryl walks in right behind her, not seeing that the mistletoe from the week before is still up. There's a low whistle, probably from Michonne, whose smile is bright in the half-lit room. But it's not quite dark enough for nobody to see just how red Daryl has gotten.

It takes Carol a second to see what the deal is, but when Daryl nudges her arm and points up, her eyes widens. She smiles brightly at him, before saying something too quiet for anyone to hear. Everyone's seated at various points in the room, no matter if they were Rick's group or from Woodbury, and there are a few scattered whoops as Carol leans up to press a kiss to the archer's jaw before sashaying away.

Daryl rubs at the back of his neck before swatting at Glenn's outstretched palm, Maggie right next to him laughing. Beth thinks she might have heard Daryl mumble something along the lines of, "overreacting fools," but then her attention is caught by Carol, blue eyes focused on her own.

"Hey there," Carol says warmly, and Beth smiles, "you seen Rick?"

Beth quickly scans the little area; Carl is sitting with Patrick, one of the children from Woodbury, her sister with Glenn and Daryl up near the door, Hershel on the steps up stairs, Sasha and Tyrese with Karen. There are others, too, but Rick isn't there, and neither is Judith.

"He musta gone to the library with Judith," Beth says to Carol, and gets up, stretches. "I'll go get them."

She's barely approaching the doorway when Rick comes in, Judith cradled in his arms, and they meet somewhere in the middle. Once again there's a whistle, this time from Glenn.

"Ugh," Beth groans, and Rick gives her a look that's half-way between amusement and offense. "No!" she says hurriedly, "I'm sorry, it's just. Maybe the mistletoe wasn't the best idea," and she finishes the thought with a pointed look at (essentially) her brother-in-law.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he says, "aren't you two supposed to kiss now?"

"May I remind you," Hershel says, voice light with contentment, "that I can see everything."

Beth sighs deeply; Rick laughs, briefly, and switches Judith to his other arm. She pats his shoulder with her dimpled hands, and the sight distracts Beth long enough for her to start when Rick presses their jaws together, a light kiss to her chin. Her eyes close, much to her embarrassment, just as Glenn and Michonne start cheering.

"Both Grimes boys, huh," the older woman teases, and Beth can feel a blush build up even as she struggles not to laugh.

"Alright, alright," Rick says, and lets his hand rest on Beth's shoulder. She smiles. "Let's get this thing started."


	6. For KillinTheHeart - GlaggieDaryl-Glenn

Warnings: none

Pairings: Maggie/Glenn, past Daryl/Glenn

Rating: PG

Summary: This is for the Holiday fic exchange challenge.

Life and Second Chances

It was Christmas Eve and everyone was gathered around the table eating dinner. The lights were on low to save the generating from having to work too hard, the real illumination coming from the living room next door with their tree that they'd put together from the attic and decorated with what ornaments and tensile and lights that had been stored from last year.

Hershel was at the head of the table, having come a long way since they found Sophia in the barn, so from his left, there was Carol, Daryl, Rick, Lori, Carl, Shane at the other end of the table. Then on the other side was Patricia, Beth, Jimmy, T-Dog, Glenn, Maggie, and Dale. They were all enjoying the turkey Daryl, Rick and Shane had managed to bag that morning.

Daryl kept looking at Glenn as they ate, while soft Christmas music was playing in the background. Most had small portions except for Lori who was eating for two as she still had a few months to go before the baby's born. It was snowing outside which added to the Christmas atmosphere. Glenn finally had enough of Daryl's staring and excused himself for a moment as he kissed Maggie on the cheek before heading upstairs to the room he shares with her.

As Glenn had predicted Daryl followed. He knew that something was on his mind, something that's been festering since he got with Maggie, he loves Maggie, and after getting Hershel's blessing there really was nothing keeping him from being with her. Except for one thing, his feelings for Daryl Dixon.

Daryl closed the door behind them. Glenn turned around to face him. "Daryl, why do you keep doing this? I told you I love Maggie now." Glenn told him.

"I know you do. I keep regretting my moment with you." Daryl informed him.

"You ran away. I kissed you, you kissed back and then you ran away. I need someone who won't run when I show them that I care and love them. Maggie won't run away, I gave you a chance and you blew it." Glenn told him softly.

"I know, and I regret that moment. I should never have run away from you, or my feelings towards you." Daryl informed him.

"I know Daryl, but it's too late, I'm with Maggie and you're just going to have to accept that and move on." Glenn told him. He closed the distance and kissed Daryl's cheek. "I'm sorry Daryl, but I couldn't wait forever, just know that if something does happen and you get a second chance, don't waist it." Glenn then headed back down to dinner.

Daryl felt hope in his chest, but he knew that he'd do whatever it took to make Glenn happy, if he was happy with Maggie, then he'd do nothing, and watch Glenn be happy with somebody else. He found some paper and pen and started writing, he finally had his present to give, something he's never really done before.

Daryl isn't a sentimental guy, but knowing that Glenn still had feelings for him, gave him hope. But at the same time Daryl was resolved to give him up and move on. To allow him to be happy with Maggie, to have kids if that chance arrives, and so he wrote his feelings for him, for Rick, for Lori, for everyone. It was a letter, one that would be opened tomorrow, one that would give them all what they needed to know and to hear.

Due to the lack of stores and the storm that had come in during the last few weeks presents were few and far between, so this was practically the only gift anyone would receive this Christmas, so Daryl had to make it good.

As everyone around him started to turn in for the night, Daryl continued to sit at a desk on the first floor, it was far enough away not disturb anyone. He turned the oil lamp he was using up some so he could see better.

It was after midnight before he finished and folded the papers up, found a envelope that would work and wrote a Rick's name on it for him to read to everyone tomorrow. He put it in a small red and green checkered box with gold trim around it. He put the lid on and tied a bright red bow at the top, he extinguished the lantern and then silently moved to the tree where a few presents were placed, knowing that very few would be getting gifts this year. Daryl placed his gift in the back and then went to his pallet next to T-Dog who was lying down next to the couch that Hershel was occupying.

It didn't take long for him to fall asleep, he woke the next morning with everyone else as they sat and ate breakfast. Afterwards they all moved to the living room, hoping for maybe one present out of the few that were under the tree. Hershel moved to grab the first brightly wrapped present with last year's left over wrapping paper of dancing bears and drummer boys. It had a card with Lori's name on it, from Carol, Patricia, Beth and Maggie.

They had managed to find some yarn in a closet and Maggie picked up more during their scavenging. Hershel handed the gift to Lori and she allowed her son Carl to open it for her, he ripped open the wrapping paper while she placed her hand on her growing belly.

It was a baby blanket, with all different colors, blue, green, lavender, and pink. Even a yarn with mixed colors, it might not be perfect, but Lori was grateful for the gift none the less.

The next gift was in a blue box, no bow, it was to Maggie from Glenn. Hershel picked it up and handed it to her. Maggie took the lid off and saw a Polaroid camera inside with extra film. She smiled at Glenn. "I love it. Thank you." She hugged him and they shared an intimate kiss, one that made Daryl a bit uncomfortable, he stood and walked out as they got to his gift, the only one left, he didn't want to be around when they read it. Hershel picked it up, no one noticing that Daryl had headed outside. There was no from: _ name on it, just a too: everyone. Hershel made a decision and handed it to their leader Rick.

Rick took the present and carefully unwrapped the bow and opened the lid, inside was an envelope with Rick's name on it. Rick looked around at everyone one there, Lori and Carl who sat to his left, Lori holding her new baby blanket over her tummy. Beth, and Maggie who had Glenn's arm around her and Hershel joined them on the couch opposite Rick and his family. On Rick's right sat Shane and Carol. Patricia, Jimmy and Dale were on the floor against one of the walls or couches, Andrea and T-Dog were sitting on a couple of rolled up pallets in the corner of the room across from the Christmas tree. The only one missing that Rick noticed was Daryl.

He examined them all, none of them recognized the envelope he pulled out of the box. He carefully opened the flap and pulled out several sheets of paper filled with writing. Someone had seriously poured their heart out into this message for them.

So as Shane took the box and set it off to the side Rick eased the tri folded letter open and began to read aloud for all to hear as it was addressed to everyone.

_'__Dear everyone,_

_I'm writing this letter as a gift for Christmas, my family never really celebrated, so consider this the first and probably the last gift that will ever be given by me. I have learned a lot over the years, mostly how to deal with pain and shut your emotions out so not to get hurt. It's a hard lesson for a kid, but one I had to learn. That is until I met Rick._

_Rick, you taught me what friendship is, what loyalty is, and what it means to be a brother. We might not be brothers by blood, but you were more of a brother to me then my own. I am proud to call you my friend, my leader and my brother. Weather you believe it or not Rick you were the best thing to happen to us, you got us out of Atlanta, saved us at the CDC and when times were tough you talked Hershel into letting us stay on his farm, for that you are a great leader._

_Shane, you tried to be a leader but truth was you were too concerned with your own wants and needs to think of the group. You would let any or all of us fall if that meant you survived. You've learned to follow Rick's lead and that's good, you have calmed and are becoming a member of this group, you kept me in line when you thought I was a danger and I thank you for that. You're a survivor and that's okay, but we needed someone who would look out for all of us, not just a select few._

_Lori, you're not a bad mother, you've been trying the best you can, you've made some bad decisions but so have I. You will love this new baby, just like you love Carl, and while it's a tough situation you do the best you can and you should think of yourself as a hero rather than a failure, because truth is I know what it's like to fail, and you have not._

_Carol, you lost everything, your husband, your daughter but you have come far and are a strong woman who can make it through anything. You are more than just a friend, you have been a companion to me and at times a better mother then my own ever was. You have taken to this group and have become a friend that we all can rely on when the chips are down, and we have lost our way._

_Carl, you are a strong and resilient kid, I think in the end you will be the one to make it best in this world. You will survive, you will fight, and given the chance you will prove yourself loyal and protective to those who win your trust, just like your old man._

_Hershel, I thank you for taking us in, for saving Carl's life, for letting us take refuge and in the end allowing us to stay in your home during this harsh and cold winter. You and your family have become family to us._

_Beth and Patricia, you both are beautiful not just on the outside but the inside as well, so forgiving, so loving and so caring. You both could change the world if you'd been given a chance._

_Dale, you are the heart of this group, the conscience, you let us know when something is right or wrong and when to go on the right path. Without you, we would truly be lost._

_Jimmy, you're young, vibrant and I think before all this, full of life, you would risk yours for those you call friends, and that is a gift better than anything I could ever give._

_T-Dog, you left my brother handcuffed to a roof, the anger back then, no longer exist now. You are one of my friends and part of this unusual family, but you belong here. I would risk my own life to protect yours, in fact…I did. But you're a friend, and even though you had no reason, you went with us to make right the wrong you had done to Merle, for that, you proved yourself worthy of my loyalty._

_Andrea, I at first thought you weak for wanting to…opt out, but now after seeing how far you've come, you're stronger then I imagined, and a true friend of mine, I'd love nothing more than to call you sister._

_Maggie, you and I didn't get along at first, mostly I didn't know you, but I know you now and you have shown how much you care about your family and friends, and how much you love Glenn. I thought it was just a fling you two had at first, just to blow off steam, but I was wrong. I'm glad I was wrong, you two deserve each other._

_Glenn, you mean more to me then my own life, I ran away from you, I was scared and you deserved better than that, you've found better than that. I wish you and Maggie the best, and I will continue to forever see you as a friend, but more, a best friend. Something I've never had not even as a child._

_Finally, Rick you gave me a second chance after Merle disappeared, and I had nowhere to go you allowed me to prove myself to your group, to you, that I was more than my family, that I was better than my brother and could be better than I ever thought possible. So take heart these next few words I tell you all._

_Gifts, material items we managed to find, don't mean a damn thing if you don't have life and second chances. Because without either, you are nothing. We are alive, and that is the best gift this Christmas could have given us, and being granted a second chance in this world, is more important than the old world's material items. That is the true gift I leave to you, the idea that your life is more important than mine, that your life is precious, that living in what peace we have managed to find this winter, is more valuable than anything of the old world_

_Your friend, your brother, your loyal partner,_

_Daryl Dixon.'_

As Rick finished, most including himself had tears in their eyes. Rick closed up the last sheet and put it back into the envelope. Maggie and Glenn were cuddled and wrapped up together, T-Dog and Andrea were wiping their eyes, as was most of the women and Dale. Shane was a little upset but accepted that what Daryl had said about him was true.

Hershel was obviously proud of what Daryl had to say and so was Carol. Carl was cuddled with his mother his hand resting on her stomach feeling the baby kicking. After a couple of minutes to process what he'd just read Rick finally stood and walked outside to where Daryl was standing on the porch watching a light snow fall.

The storm last night had lightened up, but it was still cold and Daryl was wearing only a thin jacket. "You know." Rick paused as he wiped a stray tear while Daryl's back was still to him. "You're right, life is too important for material things, too important for blankets and cameras, we were looking for the wrong things this Christmas. Daryl, you gave us the best gift, and all you had to do was look inside yourself for it. This letter-" He stepped closer and held the envelope out to Daryl. "Is more important, than any gift you might have ever given anyone else. Because it came from the heart, right now, I think we would all like to thank you if you'd come back inside."

Daryl turned around and looked at him, his face slightly flushed from the cold, but Daryl gladly agreed to go inside and face the music to what he'd risked. He had never risked so much of his heart on those few pieces of paper he'd written, and he really hoped that he hadn't made a huge mistake.

As they walked back inside, Glenn and Maggie along with everyone else stood up and looked at him. Glenn and Maggie's hands were entwined, he brought her hand up and kissed it then faced Daryl before he broke the silence. "Daryl, I think I speak for everyone here when I say….Thank you, you are family, and we loved your gift." Everyone took turns hugging Daryl. Telling him how grateful they are to have him apart of their life now.

Glenn was the last to wrap his arms around him. "Thank you Daryl, I care about you, but I really do love Maggie." Daryl nodded against his shoulder before they broke apart.

"Glenn, I will always regret turning my back on you, but I am glad that you found someone who won't." The rest of the day was spent in laughter and Christmas music as they enjoyed the calming and peaceful atmosphere they had the chance to enjoy that year, and they didn't waist a moment of it.

The End.


	7. Di311 - GrimesFamilyBethyl

"Here?" she asks, indicating the spot in the grass with her boot. Lifting her hand to shield her eyes from the sun, she looks across the short distance to where he husband is standing with four wooden stakes in his hands.

His blue eyes sweep the stretch of land between them and he indicates his chin for her to take a step back. She takes one, and then another, opening the space between them, her eyes locked on his waiting for him to tell her to stop. His hand lifts at his side and she plants her feet in place and raises her eye brows, waiting for his nod.

At his indication she bends over to drive the remaining stake in her own hand into the soft earth. Straightening up again, she looks to the four corners that they have marked and makes her way over to him, pushing her hair back off her forehead. When she stops at his side, she settles on hand on her hip and peers at him through her bangs. "Think we'll have it done soon? The kids are having too much fun with that sow – poor thing looks like she could go any day."

He considers her words, his eyes squinting against the sun. "Yeah, we'll get it done before those piglets come," he meets her eyes for a moment before something catches his attention over his shoulder. "Speaking of piglets…"

Half turning she finds her son approaching, his three-month old sister secured over his arms. "I'm bored," he huffs, stopping just short of them. "And Beth says she can't take her…"

"When your Mom asks you to watch Judith it isn't a negotiation," Rick says firmly though trails off when she rests her hand against his chest.

"It's alright," she assures him, unwilling to upset the precarious peace that had settled over their small family over the previous few weeks. "He's had her most of the morning," reaching out, she takes the baby from her son. "Thank you for being so good about taking her."

He glances up at his father first, a smug challenge in his eyes that she reluctantly forgives because she was his age once too, but she isn't going to let him get off completely scot-free. "Put your laundry into the hamper in my room first."

He huffs, his brows pulling into a scowl.

"Hm?" Lori asks, resettling the baby from her forearm onto her shoulder.

He rolls his eyes as he turns away but mutters a barely audible, "Yes, mom."

Lori watches him for a moment before turning back to her husband, an apology already falling from her lips, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to undermine you there." Though things are a lot better, they are still tense, as though they don't exactly know each other anymore.

He nods in acceptance, lifting his hand to cup the downy smooth curve of Judith's head with his palm. "Why don't you take her inside? It's been a long day for you."

Smiling softly, she agrees with a light hum. Still healing from her emergency c-section, it didn't take much to completely deplete her energy. "I have some things to do inside anyway," she presses a kiss to his cheek and then the corner of her mouth as she steps away. "See you in a bit."

Inside the common area of the cell block is alive with people bustling around each other. All of the tables are occupied so she passes through to go back to the room she shares with Judith and Rick. The baby is asleep by the time she gets there, her cheek resting against Lori's throat where she has slid sideways. Lori puts her down and positions her on her side, a rolled blanket propping her up.

"I love you, sweet girl," she smoothes her fingers over Judith's cheek before straightening up and going over to collect the laundry basket that she keeps between the wall and the head of the narrow bed she shares with her husband. Using one hand to lift it out and the other to collect the rubber bag of cloth diapers on the top bunk she tosses them in along with the shirt Rick had left draped over the sink. She frowns, finding the basket mostly empty and completely void of Carl's clothes.

Letting out an exasperated sigh, she checks on Judith again before stepping out of the cell, making sure to pull the curtain closed behind her. "Baby sleeping," she calls as a reminder to the others that they need to keep the volume down.

"You got it," Sasha throws her a toothy grin as she hits the bottom of the stairs, a stack of blankets in her hands.

"Laundry?" Lori asks, eyeing the heaps of fabric. "I haven't been able to get in there all week…" she starts to assert but stops short when Sasha shakes her head.

"You're good, girl," the other woman passes her. "Mika…" she lowers her voice, "…had another accident last night. I told Ryan she could borrow these until her bedding dries."

"Poor thing," Lori nods, frowning, before ascending the stairs to the next level. She passed each cell before reaching Carl's. She made quick work of collecting the clothes that he'd left scattered on the floor and top bunk, her nose scrunched at the smell of something rancid. "_Carl Richard Grimes, what have you got_…" she mutters under her breath, her nose wrinkling. Eventually she discovers the source of the smell, a plate of rotting _something _that had been there long enough that it had become unrecognizable. "_On, that is it-," _she growls, collecting the plate in one hand and the laundry basket in the other. Stepping back out onto the catwalk she heads towards the stairs but stops short at the sound of sweet, light humming drifting from the next cell over. Smiling, she stops at the edge of the doorway and listens, craning her neck to peer at the teenager who is sprawled out on the bed, pen in hand, her diary opened in front of her.

"That's a nice song," Lori compliments softly so she wouldn't startle the girl. "Does it have a name?"

Beth's cheeks flush just a little as she raised her eyes, her head shaking lightly. "No, I just made it up." Slowly, she slides her diary closed but not before Lori catches sight of a bubbly heart surrounded by smaller ones. The girl's cheeks tinge a darker red and Lori suppresses her urge to smile at how adorable her embarrassed expression is.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to look," Lori tells her.

Smiling sweetly, Beth shakes her head again and sits up, pulling the bound book to her chest as she settles with her legs crossed, making room for Lori on the bed beside her. "That's okay, it's just dumb anyway…"

Deciding she has some time to spare before Judith wakes up, Lori places the basket and plate down. "Is it?" she asks, stepping inside the tidy room, her eyes sweeping over the artwork on the walls.

Beth shrugs, her fingers fiddling with the pages of her book. "Yeah, well," she raises her eyes to the top of the bunk. "Just… I think I might like someone. Or maybe someone else…" she fumbles over the explanation. "I don't know," she finishes in a rush, dropping her eyes to the floor in front of her for a moment before sliding them in Lori's direction shyly.

"That doesn't sound dumb to me," Lori tells her, reaching out to gather the girl's hand in her own. "Sometimes it's hard to figure out what you want."

"Yeah," Beth agrees. "It just looks so easy for everyone else, y'know?" She quirks her mouth. "Maggie has Glenn," she adds, "and you have Rick. I want a boy to look at me the way Rick looks at you."

Lori chuckles and nods, tamping down an unexpected cynical thought and assigning it to some unresolved issues from the winter between losing the farm and eventually settling into the prison. Love wasn't so easy, at least not for her and Rick, but she wouldn't allow her own thoughts to poison the innocent and hopeful ones that belong to her conversation partner. "It will," she promises instead, squeezing Beth's hand. They sit in silence for a moment before Lori tiltsher head teasingly, "So? Who are your prospects?"

Beth giggles shyly and shakes her head coyly.

Amused, Lori nods. "Okay… want to do me a favour and give me a hand with the laundry?"

Ever eager to please, Beth nods. "Okay," she untwines her legs and gets to her feet. "I'll take the basket," she offers, tossing her diary onto her bed as she makes her way out of the cell.

Lori heard Beth make a comment about the _gross_ plate but she didn't look over as her eyes fixed themselves on the diary that had fallen and opened up, exposing two pages of doodles and heart with a name printed neatly inside them. Clearing her throat, she quickly flips the book closed and follows the teen out.

XXXX

"Move over, baby." The voice is rough and his beard prickles the sensitive skin on her neck as he presses a kiss to the spot behind her ear.

Humming, Lori slides forward to give him more room to slip into the bed behind her, still barely awake. "Shift was okay?" she asks, yawning as she settles against his chest and lifts her arms to allow for him to slip his arms around his waist. "What time is it?"

"Late," he whispers, kissing her shoulder. "Go back to sleep."

Nodding, she buries her nose into the covers and closes her eyes before a thought occurs to her, drawing a smile to her face. "You won't believe what I found out today." She knows the statement made her sound like a gossiping teenager but she continues anyway. "Beth has a crush."

"She's a teenage girl," Rick shifts, drawing her closer, his voice already thick with sleep. "She'd be in love with a doorknob if she thought it would be romantic."

Lori huffs and jabs him. "On behalf of my gender, shush," she teases. "Daryl. It's Daryl."

As though deciding it would be quicker to give her a reaction he lifts his head. "Dixon?"

"Baby, there are maybe fifty people left in the world, how many Daryls could there be," she sighs, exasperated. "Of course Dixon… do you think we should be worried?"

Shaking his head he lays it back down. "Not at two in the morning, no. Besides, it's a school girl crush," he stretches out and curled up, nudging the back of her knees until she does the same and they mould together.

Yawning, Lori eases her hair over her shoulder. "How's the pen coming along?"

When Rick doesn't she lays in silence, listening to the sound of his deep even breaths. His chest rises and falls against her back and he mumbles in his sleep, a soft _I love you _that is a whisper of air across her ear. She smiles as the prison slumbers around her thinking of the excitement of young love, new beginnings, and that maybe seasoned love isn't so bad after-all.


	8. For MichonnesKatana - DarylCarolGroup

**Silver Bells**

Carol was the first to declare that Christmas was just around the corner.

No one argued with her; snow had been falling for days, coating the world outside with a beautiful blanket of white softness. Not a single walker had been spotted for weeks, leading Rick to hope that maybe, just maybe, the freeze was having a profound impact on the decaying flesh. If the cold lasted long enough, then maybe the walkers would be frozen completely and the threat eradicated. Rick could hope, anyway.

Thanks to Daryl, the group had plenty of meat stored to get them through the cold snap, and soon everyone seemed to share Carol's enthusiasm of the impending holiday. There were decorations and special runs that brought wine and treats like chocolate, little gifts and wrapping paper.

Everything was going well and hope began to show in everyone. Everyone except Daryl, at least.

Never having been one for holidays, Daryl shied away from the activities as the days until Christmas were ticked off. He only had one decent memory of a Christmas that wasn't terrible, and that was when he was six and his father had left him with his grandfather for two months. After that, his life went to hell and he gave up on ever hoping for a normal Christmas.

The night Carol declared was Christmas Eve snuck up on him. Instead of celebrating with the rest of the group, he was off by the fireplace, planning out his next hunt. He didn't have time for their nonsense. Rick and Carol were drinking while Glenn held Maggie and the redhead giggled. Her sister's death had taken a hard toll on them all, and Daryl could still see the shadows in Maggie's eyes. Glenn suddenly pushed a small piece of a snack cake against Maggie's cheek and Maggie cried out indignantly before she laughed again. It was good to know she still could laugh, even after all she had been through.

"Dar!"

Startled, he swung his gaze toward the sound. Judith was toddling toward him, a bright smile on her chubby little face. Before he could stop her, she launched herself into his arms, giggling wildly. He tensed initially before he finally relaxed and wrapped his arms around the tiny girl. She was the one bright spot in this world gone mad and he would do anything to keep her safe.

Carol found him a little while later and sat down beside him. "Merry Christmas, Daryl," she murmured, placing a medium sized, crudely wrapped package in his lap.

He eyed the package suspiciously. "What's that?"

"A present." She took Judith from his arms. "Open it."

Huffing softly, he picked up the package cautiously. "I didn't get you nothin'."

"It's fine. This isn't much, anyway." Even as she said that, her eyes danced mischievously.

Now he was curious. He tore the wrapping away and opened the box. "What…?" Reaching down, he pulled out a small black pup by the scruff of its neck.

"I know it's another mouth to feed, but I found her by the fence and I just couldn't leave her out there. Besides, you once mentioned that you wanted a hunting dog."

Indeed he had, and he was surprised when his eyes began to sting. "This is… Thanks, Carol," he managed gruffly. The pup whined and squirmed, and Daryl brought her to his chest. Old memories began to resurface of a mangy mongrel who used to share Daryl's bed and go everywhere with him. His name had been Oliver and Daryl had had him for five years before his father 'accidentally' ran him over. If Daryl had not hated his father before that day, seeing his poor dog had certainly sealed it. It took him years to want another dog, but by then he was living with his brother and Merle was enough of a handful without adding a dog to the mix. Now, thanks to Carol, he had a new companion.

Without thinking, he leaned over and kissed her cheek. She choked and blushed furiously.

"What was that for?"

"For being here," he murmured as he rose to his feet. "Merry Christmas, Carol."

Carol pressed her hand to the spot where his lips had touched her cheek and she blushed again. Would she ever understand that man?

"Merry Christmas, Daryl."


	9. For MorganElizabeth - CarlOC

Carl's feet pounded through the undergrowth as he ran. His pursuers were finally falling behind, their shouts and jeers becoming more distant. At last he felt safe enough to stop, folding in half as he gasped for breath, sides hurting as he gulped air into his lungs.

As his body recovered he tried to process everything that had happened to get him to this point. Things had been going fine; they had three working vehicles with enough fuel to last them a while and supplies for a few days. By their standards they were doing well. The five years since losing Beth and fleeing the Hospital in Atlanta had been hard.

The image of Daryl openly crying as he'd carried Beth's lifeless body outside and over to Maggie remained with him to this day. None of them had ever seen the tough hunter so broken. It had taken a long time for him to come back from the dark place Beth's death had taken him. Typically he'd blamed himself, saying it was his fault she'd been taken, that he should have looked harder for her. Even Maggie's tearful reassurances that he'd done everything he could, and more, hadn't been enough. He'd retreated into himself, pulling away from the group, spending more and more time hunting alone, or leaving them for days at a time as he searched for a safe place for them to stay. He always returned eventually and finally it had been little Judith, almost 18 months old by then, who had bought him back properly. He arrived back at the small camp and handed a string of squirrels to Carol, before turning away and sitting silently by the fire to clean his bolts. Judith had pulled herself from Rick's lap and toddled over to him, arms outstretched as she smiled up at him.

"Dar" she lisped as she wrapped her arms around his neck, making him freeze in surprise.

"She misses you" Rick smiled at the sight "She always looks for you when you're away" Finally the hunter had returned the girls embrace, letting her settle into his lap. He glanced up at Rick.

"Guess I'd better stop going off then, don't want Asskicker gettin' upset" From that moment he slowly began to come back to them.

The group had headed for Richmond, taking Noah to find his family. They'd found his Uncle on a farm with several others and been invited to stay but decided the farm couldn't support so many people and it was best to move on. Father Gabriel had stayed, as had Rosita and Abraham. The former soldier was still coming to terms with Eugene's lies and needed a place to stay while he decided what to do next. Rosita declared she wasn't about to leave him so the rest of the group reluctantly said goodbye, telling them to stay safe.

The next few months were spent on the road before they finally came across an abandoned army camp. The wire fences were damaged but repairable and the large military tents offered some shelter from the elements. They'd stayed there for several weeks before being forced out by a herd of walkers that came through one night. That was the night they lost Tyreese, bitten as he defended his sister. Sasha had been inconsolable as she watched her brother die then insisted she was the one to prevent him from turning.

After that they were back on the road, surviving however they could. Food was getting scarce and ammo was almost impossible to find, they had to rely more and more on blades and Daryl's crossbow. New bolts were all but non-existent but at least Daryl could make his own . It wasn't easy but they were making it.

The months had turned to years and they found fewer walkers to deal with but the living becoming more of a problem. Those that had survived this long were those prepared to do what it took to live, regardless of right or wrong. Time and again they had to defend themselves from attack, people after what they had and willing to take it by force. It was one such attack that cost them Tara, shot by a man for the pack on her back. He didn't last for long after her death, Eugene had learned to fight to defend himself and those he cared for and he'd been fond of the young woman. The others had watched as he'd dealt with Tara's killer, coldly and efficiently. Since then they had been on the road, staying no more than a day or two in any location, always on the move.

Carl's breath evened out and he decided to move back the way he'd come, planning to make his way back to the road where he'd been forced to leave the others. Keeping an ear open for any danger he made his way through the trees. He'd learned a lot from Daryl in the last few years and could now move almost silently through the woods. He could hunt and track almost as well as the older man but wasn't anything like as good with the crossbow. Daryl had decided to teach him everything he knew, telling him someone needed to know how to do it in case anything happened to him. Rick was useless in the woods, hopeless at hunting and Daryl had given up trying to teach him, Glenn was no better, seeming to find every twig to step on or making a noise at just the wrong time. When it cost them a deer they'd been tracking for hours Daryl refused to take him out anymore. He'd told Rick the only one with any chance of learning was his son or maybe Michonne. She'd refused, saying it was better if Carl learnt and that had been it. They started the next day and he found he'd been a quick learner, impressing even the hardened Daryl with his ability.

Through the trees Carl could see the damaged car, the doors still open. As he got closer he could see the body in the front passenger seat, slumped forward, head resting on the dashboard. Cautiously he approached, alert for any sound or movement. He reached the edge of the trees and peered out, gun in hand. The other two cars were gone, the abandoned one stripped of anything useful. He could see Maggie's blood on the back seat and on the ground next to the vehicle. Briefly he closed his eyes, the sounds of the shots and her screams of pain echoing in his head. He remembered Glenn's frantic yells at him to run for the trees and not look back. He'd done as he was told for once, turning as soon as he was under cover, raising his gun, searching for their attackers.

He'd seen the other two cars stop, those inside throwing themselves out, using the vehicles for cover as they'd tried to see where to shoot. He'd seen a bullet just miss Carol as she'd protected 6 year old Judith against her chest and Daryl take a bullet to the shoulder as he pulled the woman and child behind him, standing to fire into the darkness of the trees where the shots had come from, hitting someone. Carl had fired his own gun, satisfied to hear a yell of pain as his bullet found a target. At once a hail of bullets had raked the trees around him, forcing him to dive for shelter. Somehow he hadn't been hit and he managed to fire again, this time unsure if he'd hit anything.

Michonne had made a dash for the trees, katana in hand and he knew she was trying to get around behind the people shooting at them. Glenn had pulled the injured Maggie from the damaged car and was protecting her with his own body as he tried to stop the flow of blood from the wounds in her thigh and side, calling her name desperately to keep her with him.

Eugene was in the front seat, when the bullets had sprayed the moving car, he hadn't stood a chance, taking several hits and dying instantly. Maggie, behind him in the rear, had been hit twice, though not yet fatally.

The men had come from the trees, two of them dragging Glenn from Maggie's side, laughing at his attempts to fight them off. Two more had shown themselves, Michonne held at gunpoint between them, demanding the others surrender unless they wanted to see her dead. Carl was satisfied to see the blood on the katana one of the men held, it meant she had managed to get at least one of them before they captured her. Glenn was shoved forward, a gun to his temple, as he tried to get back to his wife. Carl hadn't known what to do; he only had two bullets left and couldn't risk the lives of his family. He backed further into the woods, knowing if he was captured he would be unable to help his group.

Rick had stood, dropping his gun and raising his arms, not seeing any other way of saving the lives of his people. Slowly the others had followed his lead. The men had ordered them to come out from behind the cars and kneel on the road. One was clearly the leader and he approached the injured Daryl, standing over the fuming hunter as he knelt. He'd said something about those that killed his men would be punished before leaning down and digging his fingers into the gunshot wound, twisting them roughly, opening up the gaping wound even further. Daryl had remained silent, annoying the man even more and he'd pulled his hand away, reaching into his pocket, bringing out a hip flask. Two of his men had pulled Daryl down, pinning him to the ground, ripping his shirt from his shoulder, as the man poured the contents of the flask over the wound. The burn of the alcohol had caused Daryl to cry out. They had let him go then, dragging him back to his knees and moving on to Carol, ripping the sobbing, frightened Judith from her arms. Both Rick and Daryl had lunged forward to get to the child. Both had been pulled back and several of the men had laid into them. Unable to hold back Carl had fired, taking out one of the men. His last bullet had only injured one of the others and the leader had issued an order. Several of the men had headed towards him, and he froze again not knowing what to do. Rick's voice had screamed at him to run and he had. The men had pursued him for miles, shouting and whooping, enjoying the chase, before he had finally lost them. Now he was back at the scene of the attack and had no idea where to go.

His eyes searched the road for any clue as to where they had gone. It was getting dark and he knew he would have to find somewhere to spend the night. Reluctantly he moved away from the road, hoping to find a cabin or farm, even a barn. It was winter and the nights were cold, he needed to find shelter, he would start the search at first light.

Finally he saw the dark outline of a small building just off the side of the road. As he got closer he realised it was a rest stop. Carl sighed with relief, it wasn't ideal but it was better than nothing. As he approached it he gathered a few twigs and branches, deciding it might be worth the risk of a small fire. Placing the bundle of kindling down by the door he drew his knife and cautiously opened it. It was silent and empty, no sign of anything living or dead. A quick glance under the doors revealed no sign of anything in the cubicles so he collected his wood and closed the door behind him. Quickly he built a small fire, using the lighter Daryl had given him, satisfied to hear the soft crackles as the flames took hold. He was so engrossed in the fire that he didn't hear the door to one of the toilet cubicles open. The first he was aware of someone else in the room was when the heavy object smashed into the back of his head, knocking him out cold.

When he woke he found his hands bound tightly with his own belt. His head was pounding as he glanced around the small space, trying to see who had hit him.

A few feet away he saw a young girl huddled on the floor, watching him with frightened eyes. She looked about his own age and was thin and dirty. Her hair was matted and hung down her back in limp strands. She wore ripped jeans and a torn shirt, grubby sneakers on her feet. Carl could see her shaking, but didn't know if it was from the cold or fear.

"Why'd you hit me?" he asked, shaking his head slightly to try and clear it. "I wouldn't hurt you"

She stared at him silently, refusing to answer.

"I'm Carl" he tried "What's your name?" When he was still met with silence he decided to give her one more chance,

"I'm looking for my family, we were attacked on the road a few miles back. I got separated and don't know how to find them" He looked at her hopefully "Have you seen anyone else?"

She finally met his eyes and he realised hers were a bright green.

"Did you have a little girl with you, about 5 or 6 years old?" she whispered. When he nodded her eyes filled with sympathy.

"I'm sorry" she said softly "You're not going to see them again"

Carl bit back the sudden tears that threatened.

"Where are they?" he demanded "Are they dead?"

"Some will be soon, those that aren't will wish they were" she reached out and touched his arm softly "I'm sorry" she said again.

He shook his head in denial.

"Where are they? If they're not dead yet I can help them" he glared at her "Tell me where they are" he fought to free his arms from the belt.

"They were taken by the people I was with" she started hesitantly. "The people at the camp will trade those they can for whatever they can get. That's usually the women and children. The little girl will fetch a good trade. There's not many that young around now. The warrior woman and the slim girl will go as well. They'll probably let the injured woman die, she's pretty but it will take too much to heal her. The older woman, they'll keep, probably put her to work in the kitchens. The men I'm not sure about. They have plans for the injured one, apparently he killed one of theirs so they'll make him pay. I've seen them take days to kill someone before. It was horrible" she wrapped her arms around her thin body as she shuddered.

"It would be better if someone put a bullet in his head, made it quick" she wouldn't meet his eyes as she continued

"The other two men, they'll keep around for a while. Maybe put them to work on the camp defences or perhaps to get their kicks out of using them as punching bags. It's hard to tell what will happen. They see other men as threats and not worth anything to them. I doubt they'll last long"

Carl's eyes were wide as he listened to her and he could feel the anger rising.

"I have to try and help them. Let me go and show me where they are" his voice rose along with his temper.

"Quiet"" she hissed "They're probably looking for me and I know they're still searching for the one that got away. I guess that's you" she glared at him "I'm not going back there. I'll hit you again if you don't quiet down" she picked up the ceramic lid of a toilet cistern from the floor next to her, gripping it tightly.

Carl felt an unexplained bubble of laughter well up in his chest.

"That's what you hit me with?" he tried to hold back the inappropriate chuckle and saw her fight a small grin.

"I'm sorry, but I thought they'd found me. It was only after I hit you I realised you were a stranger" she explained "I told you I won't go back there"

"How did you get out?" Carl asked her, all sign of childish humour gone.

"They bought the cars in first, then your friends on foot, they'd made them carry the supplies from the damaged car and they were resisting. The injured one started a fight, then the others joined in, it all went mad and in the confusion I managed to slip out un-noticed. By the time they saw me I was almost out of sight and I managed to lose them"

Carl gave a slight smile, trust Daryl to be the one to kick it all off.

"Please, you have to help me" he tried to appeal to her "The little girl's my sister, Judith. One of the men is my Dad and the others might as well be family, we've been together so long. Please help me try and rescue them"

She didn't reply, just watched him for a long, few minutes before reaching out and undoing the belt binding him.

"I'll show you where they are, but I can't get too close. I won't risk getting caught again"

His eyes met hers briefly.

"I won't let that happen" he promised.

The girl told him her name was Eve and she had been at the camp for several years. The only reason she hadn't been traded was because her father had been one of the men who ran the camp. When he had been killed the rest had let her stay, untouched, as a mark of respect for the man, but they expected her to earn her keep and as she got older she saw the way some of them began to look at her. She thought she was about 17 years old but wasn't totally sure. Eve informed him that there were about 30 men, all heavily armed and always alert, making sure there was someone on watch at all times. She had run as soon as she got a chance as she couldn't stand to see was going on around her. The cruelty was one thing, but the enjoyment the men took in inflicting pain and fear on others was too much.

Eve described as much as she could about the layout of the camp and the probable whereabouts of the prisoners. She told him where the guards were likely to be stationed and where the weapons were kept. Once she had filled him in on everything she could they decided it was time to go. Eve would show him the way then leave, letting him do whatever was necessary to free his friends and family.

They opened the door to the rest room and set out, keeping off the road, using the trees for shelter. It was barely light and very cold, fine snowflakes starting to fall as they made their way towards the camp. Finally Eve pointed out the fence that surrounded an old plantation style house. There were several outbuildings nearby and armed men patrolled the boundaries at all times. A man with an assault rifle and binoculars stood atop a raised platform, scanning the surrounding area.

They watched for a while, Carl taking note of the time it took each man to walk his route, noting that they weren't as attentive as they should be. They had the cocky arrogance of strength, the belief that they were stronger and better than everyone else. Carl saw that as a weakness.

A commotion at one of the outbuildings caught their attention. Carl stiffened as he saw several men enter the shed, returning a few seconds later, two dragging a resisting Daryl with them. The others backed through the door, guns still aimed at those inside, before slamming it shut and relocking it.

Daryl was forced to his knees as a man approached him, a smirk on his face.

"That's Del, he's the one in charge. Your friend's in trouble if he's here already. He's not an early riser" Eve whispered.

They were too far away to hear what was said but Carl knew Daryl had pissed Del off when the man lashed out, the heavy blow snapping the restrained hunters head back. He was pulled to his feet and surrounded by men. As Carl watched in horror as they advanced.

"They always start with a beating to soften the victim up. The real punishment will start later" Eve's soft voice distracted him from the sight. "There's still time to save him from the worst of it"

Reluctantly Carl backed away, letting Eve lead him back into the trees. The snow was falling harder now and they were both freezing cold and hungry. They needed to come up with a plan and move quickly.

Eve gave a sudden smile and jumped to her feet. She moved to a nearby tree and began to pick the small white berries from the climbing shrub entwined with it' branches. Carl stepped beside her, grabbing a handful of the sticky fruit. As he was about to stuff them into his mouth Eve grabbed his arm.

"No, you can't eat them. It's mistletoe, the berries and leaves are poisonous" Carl gave her a confused look.

"Then why are you picking them?" he asked.

Eve flashed him a grin.

"I've got a plan" she told him.

Carol was reluctantly making a large vat of oatmeal for the inhabitants of the camp. She'd been pulled from the group and shoved into the house. Del had told her she would be the new cook being as their old one had left them unexpectedly the night before. She was told it would be harder for her friends if she didn't co-operate so she was grudgingly obeying, all the time searching for a way out. She'd seen what had happened to Daryl and had fought back tears as she saw them drag his battered body back into the shed with the others. Her mind was working overtime as she desperately tried to come up with a plan.

A commotion outside caught her attention. A young girl was being lead towards the house. She saw Del approach her and say something. The girl hung her head, not meeting his eyes. He grabbed her chin and forced her head up, leaning close as he spoke. Carol saw the girl nod, as her eyes filled with tears. Del put a hand on her back and pushed her towards the house. The girl was shoved into the kitchen, eyes downcast.

"Our cook came back" Del pushed her towards Carol "Seems she didn't like it out there on her own. Looks like you got yourself an assistant" He paused at the door.

"I'm expecting breakfast pretty damn soon. It'll be hard on your friends if it's late"

As soon as he was gone the girl lifted her head.

"Are you Carol?" she whispered. Carol gave her a small nod.

"How did you know?" she asked the girl.

"Carl told me about all of you. I'm Eve, we've got a plan to get you all out"

Carol didn't bat an eyelid, she'd learnt a long time ago never to judge by appearance, some of the strongest people she knew had looked the most frail.

"What can I do?" Carol was more than willing to help. She smiled as Eve pulled off her shirt, turning one sleeve inside out. A sticky mess of squashed, white berries fell to the work surface.

"I'm ahead of you" Carol laughed as she scooped them up, dropping them into the huge pot of bubbling oatmeal.

Carl made his way through the trees, heading back towards the camp. He waited patiently, hoping their plan would work. He been pleased and surprised when Eve had offered to go back through the fence, letting herself be recaptured so she could get the berries to the kitchen. He still wasn't sure what had made her decide to help him but he was glad, he knew he wouldn't have been able to do it alone.

It wasn't long before the guard on the platform started shouting he could see smoke. Del climbed up next to him and took the binoculars.

"Looks like a campfire" he called down to one of the others "Take 10 men and go see what you can find"

Carl smiled when he saw a frown cross the Del's face and he put a hand to his stomach. It looked like Eve's plan was working.

A few minutes later the gate opened and three cars pulled out, heading towards the smoke they had spotted. At once Carl headed toward the fence, moving close to the shed he knew his family was in. The snow muffled any sound he made and he knew it would leave obvious footprints leading to his whereabouts but he had no choice. He had to move fast. Once the group of men reached the smoke they would find nothing but a large pile of smouldering wet leaves and know they had been tricked. They would head back to the camp and there would be too many for them to deal with.

There was no sign of any guards near the fence so Carl vaulted quickly over, ducking behind an abandoned truck. Peering out he saw the guard on his hands and knees, clutching his stomach as he vomited onto the ground. Silently he pulled his knife out and crept up behind the hunched man. He preferred to use a gun but was good enough with a knife and it wasn't long before the sick man was despatched. Using the poisonous berries had been an inspired idea .

He made his way to the back of the shed and peered through a gap in the boards. Inside he saw his father pacing angrily, Michonne holding Judith, stroking the back of her head, mumbling comforting words. Glenn was sitting on the ground, Maggie's head in his lap. Carl could see bandages on her wounds and that she was conscious. It looked like she had received some basic first aid. Sasha was trying to treat a grumbling, bruised Daryl. Carl bit back a smile as Daryl knocked her away, mumbling something about damn women that couldn't keep their hands to themselves.

He was so distracted by the sight of his family that he didn't hear the man approach from behind. He froze at the sound of a gun cocking.

"Turn around slowly, hands where I can see them" the gruff voice ordered. Carl straightened, moving his arms out to the side, holding his knife loosely.

"I guess you're the son of a bitch we were looking for yesterday" The man tried to grin, but his face was a sickly shade of green and despite the snow he was covered in a thin film of sweat. He swayed slightly as he raised the gun higher.

"Del's gonna be real pleased to see you" he indicated with the weapon, telling Carl to start walking in front of him, towards the house. They had only gone a few steps when he heard a grunt and a thud. Turning Carl saw the man out cold on the ground. Eve was standing behind him, a grin on her face, a tyre iron in her hands.

"That felt good" she kicked the man at her feet. "This one had a real problem with keeping his hands to himself" She handed the tyre iron to Carl and picked up the fallen man's gun.

"Pry open the boards, let's get your family out of there" she turned, raising the weapon and covering him as he levered the boards apart. It wasn't long before he had made a gap big enough to squeeze through.

Rick and the others rushed to him, his Father giving him a quick, relieved embrace. Moving fast they pushed their way outside and Eve handed the rifle to Rick.

With Eve leading the way they headed towards the parked vehicles, Glenn supporting a limping Maggie and Sasha trying to help Daryl, despite his protests that he was okay.

Most of the guards they saw were feeling too sorry for themselves to even try and apprehend the escaping group. Several were hunched over, groaning and clutching their stomachs. Those who did try to stop them were quickly dealt with and their weapons taken and wasn't long before they arrived at their stolen vehicles.

Carol was already behind the wheel of one and Rick claimed the driver's seat of the other. Michonne clutched Judith to her as she squeezed into the back with Glenn and Maggie and Daryl settled into the passenger seat, already complaining about the loss of his crossbow. Carl and Eve ran to the gate, pulling it open as the two cars began to move. They threw themselves into the back of the second one as the vehicles picked up speed and raced away from the camp, leaving the gate wide open behind them. The noise of the revving engines had already drawn a couple of walkers towards the now exposed camp, and Carl watched in satisfaction as the first made its way inside.

They hadn't gone far when they saw the three cars returning from investigating the fire. With a curse Rick accelerated, hurtling along the road towards the small convoy, Carol doing her best to keep up with him. They were alongside the returning vehicles before the men inside realised who they were. Sasha, in the passenger seat next to Carol, had already opened her window and as they flashed past the lead car she fired the hand gun she'd taken in their escape. Their ears ringing from the blast in the confined space the foursome saw the car start to veer to the side, the injured driver fighting to keep control. As it span round the second car tail ended it, bringing both to a halt. The third had managed to stop in time to avoid an accident and was already turning in the road, its occupant's intent on stopping those fleeing.

From the corner of his eye Rick saw a several shots hit the road, throwing up small chips of asphalt as the passengers opened fire from the car behind. In the back Michonne handed Judith to Glenn before twisting herself round and, half hanging out of the window, started to return fire. Carol pulled alongside Rick, keeping pace with him and keeping out of the way of Michonne's fire. Sasha used the handgun and between them the two women forced the pursuing vehicle to drop back.

"Guns almost empty" Michonne grunted as she slipped back into her seat. "What else we got?"

Rick glanced in the rear view mirror; the car was creeping closer again, its occupants becoming braver due to the lack of shots aimed their way. A sudden idea struck him.

"Hold on" he yelled, instantly slamming his foot down on the brake pedal. He struggled to control the car as it tried to slide on the snowy road. All his police driving training came back to him as he steered into the skid, keeping the vehicle straight. Carol hadn't been expecting him to slow down and continued racing down the road. The pursuing car kept coming, not anticipating this action. The driver swerved, just missing driving into the back of the now near stationary vehicle. As it shot past, Rick yanked the steering wheel to the side. There was a sickening, crumpling sound as the front of his car hit the back end of the other, sending it into a spin. Before it had finished moving, Rick, Michonne and Daryl were running towards it. Rick had Carl's knife and he used it on the driver as he tried to pull himself out of his seat. Daryl pulled the passenger out, slamming his head against the hard pavement before he had a chance to react. The remaining man tried to surrender but Michonne swung the empty rifle, leaving him unconscious on the road. Quickly they gathered up all the weapons they could find before dashing to the side of the road, hiding themselves from view. Carol had stopped further up the road and Rick waved her on, indicating she get out of sight.

Glenn was still with Maggie and Judith in the back seat, protecting them both as well as he could. It wasn't long before they heard an approaching engine. A Ford truck came into view, slowing when the occupants saw the accident. The truck crept closer and Rick could see Del behind the wheel. Behind the truck he could see another car, its front crumpled and bent, he realised it was one of the three cars that had originally tried to come after them.

Slowly they moved closer, before finally stopping. Two men climbed from the cab and approached the men's bodies on the road. Glancing nervously around one checked for survivors.

"1 dead, 2 alive" he called to Del

"Any sign of the sons of bitches that did this?" the leader demanded.

As the man shook his head, Rick stood and fired, Michonne and Daryl not far behind, bullets strafing through the car and the men standing alongside it. As his men fell to the gunfire Del gunned the accelerator, pushing the truck down the road. He'd only gone a mile or so when a flash of movement caught his eye. Before he could react the truck was blindsided. The wheel was ripped from his hands and he lost control of the heavy Ford. It slid across the icy road, the nearside tyres left the pavement and it began to roll as it slipped into a ditch running parallel to the blacktop. When it finally stopped moving, lying upside down, half in the ditch Del saw what had hit him. A car was parked a few yards away, it's front fender buckled and broken As he tried to open the cab door, two women slipped from the car and headed towards him. He recognised one as the woman he'd set to cook for them, the other as one of the prisoners he'd planned to trade. He wrenched open the door and dragged himself out, fumbling at his belt for his gun, slipping it out of sight in his pocket. Rising on shaky legs, he noticed Eve had joined the women, as had a young man he'd not seen before. All four were watching him as he stumbled towards them. His eyes meet Eve's.

"So you're siding with them, even after we took care of you when your Daddy died?" He sneered.

Eve stared back, confident with Carl by her side.

"You didn't take care of me; you treated me like dirt, made me work for you. You only let me stay 'cos you needed me" she retorted. Del took a few steps closer, leaning towards her, raising his hand. At once Carl was between them.

"Don't touch her" he demanded, catching the older man's hand before he could strike the girl. Del laughed.

"Got you wrapped around her little finger already has she?" He pulled his hand free, turning away from them. Suddenly he span back, pulling the gun from his pocket. He aimed it at Carl.

"You're the one got away from us yesterday aint you?" He demanded, finger tightening on the trigger. Carl felt himself shoved sideways as there was roar of gunfire, followed by a second almost immediately. He saw Del on the ground, eyes wide as he gasped for breath. Blood was seeping from an exit wound in his chest, Sasha standing behind him, the handgun still raised. Her gaze travelled past him, her expression sad.

"I'm sorry, I should have been faster." She said softly.

As Carol brushed past him he turned, following Sasha's gaze. Eve was face down, one arm twisted beneath her, blood pooling at her side.

"No!" He cried as he dropped down, taking her hand. Carol pushed him away.

"Wait, let me see to her" she reached out, checking the motionless girl's neck for a pulse. Carefully she rolled her onto her back. Eve's face was pale, her eyes closed. Carol checked her over, finding the wound.

"The bullet went straight through her arm, it's not as bad as it looks" she smiled as Eve's eyes opened.

"Hi" Carol brushed some hair from the confused girl's face. "Don't worry, it'll hurt like hell for a few days but you're going to be fine"

A panicked expression crossed Eve's face.

"Carl?" she tried to sit up "Is he okay?"

"I'm fine" Carl knelt, helping her to sit before pulling her into a tight hug.

"That was such a dumb move" he scolded "He could've killed you"

Eve gave him a pain filled smile, her eyes locking with his.

"But he didn't" she leaned closer to him and he instinctively tightened his arms around her. They didn't notice the knowing look and small smiles that Carol and Sasha exchanged. It was only when Rick cleared his throat loudly that they realised the others had arrived. Reluctantly they let go of each other and Carl help Eve to her feet. Even though she could walk unaided he insisted she leant against him as they returned to the car, causing Daryl to roll his eyes.

"Great now we gotta worry 'bout horny teenagers and their damn hormones" he muttered, causing Carol to snigger and Rick to shoot the young couple a panicked look.

The badly injured Del was shoved into Rick's car, bundled between Glenn and Michonne, Daryl in the front, armed with Sasha's handgun. Maggie slumped in the back of the other vehicle, with Sasha and Eve while Carl took the remaining place alongside Carol.

With Del as a hostage they returned to the camp. There weren't many survivors, many had been killed chasing them down and several others were lost to the walkers that now wandered inside the barrier. It didn't take long for the group to clear out the stray walkers and re-secure the fences and gate, claiming the house and outbuildings for themselves.

Del lasted a few hours before succumbing to the gunshot wound and once he was gone the last few men surrendered, finding themselves quickly locked in the shed they had kept prisoners in.

Carl was on watch, sitting on the platform eyes scanning the surrounding area. By the height of the moon he reckoned it was close to midnight, and almost time for Sasha to relieve him. A sound made him turn and he smiled when he saw Eve climb onto the platform. Her wound had been dressed and she'd cleaned up somehow, looking young and pretty in the moonlight. Carl fought a sudden urge to reach out and touch her soft hair. She was the first girl his age he'd ever met and now the adrenalin had worn off and his family was safe he felt very unsure around her. She shivered in the cold night air, pulling the thin jacket closer to her body. Without thinking he opened the oversized coat he was wearing and pulled her against him, wrapping the padded garment around them both. She snuggled closer and her uninjured arm slipped round his waist, the other resting on his chest as she nestled her head under his chin. He couldn't help the grin that spread over his face as they cuddled together in the darkness, oblivious of the others watching from the house.

Daryl gave a snort, turning to Rick.

"Better keep an eye on them two or you're gonna be a granddaddy sooner than you wanna be" he commented, grinning at the look of terror that crossed the former deputy's face before the man dashed out to chaperone his son and the latest member of their little group of survivors.


	10. For ReadingRed - Judith

By Candlelight

Winter had set in at the prison in all its frigid glory, one of the coldest winters that Atlanta had seen in a good long while, setting delicate swirls of pale frost to bloom across the metal bars on the cell doors and windows. Some of the children, Mika leading the way, had pulled the mattresses out of their bunks and piled them up in the main hallway of Cell Block B. They burrowed under their blankets and giggled. Despite numb fingers, cold toes and runny noses, the sound of children's laughter filled the prison to its deepest, darkest corners and teased out rare smiles among those who never thought there would be a reason to smile again in what little was left of this broken, bloodied world.

As the sun set and the shadows grew, creeping throughout the prison, the characteristic rumble of the generator as it came to life remained silent. Beth had requested it, just for tonight. She had come to Rick earlier in the day while he was checking the fences with Carl and Daryl.

"Do you mind if I ask you somethin'?" she asked, eyes wide with that tenacious hope she somehow managed to maintain despite the horrors she'd lived through.

"Of course," Rick replied. He waved to Carl and Daryl to continue without him, then turned to give Beth his full attention.

"I was hopin'," she started, fiddling with the hem of her coat. "I was hopin' you could keep the generator off for tonight. Just for a few hours at least."

"Mind telling me what for? You got somethin' up your sleeve?" he asked with a soft teasing smile.

Beth grinned back. "It's a surprise. I promise it's a good thing."

Rick chuckled and shook his head. "Alright, I believe you. That can easily be arranged I think. I suppose you won't be lettin' me in on this little surprise then?"

"Not unless I have to," she said, biting her lip.

"No, you don't have to but I'd certainly appreciate it if…"

Without waiting for him to finish, Beth rose on tiptoe, kissed his cheek and then took off back towards the prison.

"Thank you!" she called with a wave over her shoulder.

"What was that all about?" Daryl grunted.

"I have no idea," Rick replied, smiling to himself. "But we'll find out soon enough."

Beth had been planning tonight for a long, long while, saving up precious candle stubs for months on end. Now the time had finally come and she could barely contain her excitement. She had always loved the holidays at home, particularly the lights, how they chased away the gloomy haze of the winter months in explosions of color. Hershel would laugh when she bounced around the house hanging up decorations and lights, like a bumblebee zipping from flower to flower. But now, they had no way to track the days; no way to tell if the holidays had already come and gone so it was time to do a little improvising.

Beth started lighting candles, spreading them throughout the prison, their soft, warm, comforting glow blossoming through the grim interior. About this time every night, most of the group would have wandered off to bed, exhausted from their daily work, from the constant stress of walkers pressed against the fences. Tonight, however, people noticed as Beth tucked candle stubs into dark corners, along the windowsills, next to cell doors, humming as she went, and instead of retreating to their cells like they did every other night, they lingered. It was as if the flickering, sputtering flames of the candles that barely staved off the darkness proved as a subtle yet unnerving reminder of how easily their own lives could be extinguished in nothing more than a whisper of smoke and ash, blown away on the first breath of wind. So they drifted, as if drawn to each other again by a deep, primal instinct to sate the need for reassurance and seek out the soothing presence of other living, breathing humans.

One by one, people wandered into Cell Block B where the children were, where Michonne and Beth played with little Judith who was swathed in about four layers as she batted her bright red plastic cups around. Rick sat next to Carl with their backs pressed against the wall, talking about who would take the next watch on the fences, about planting the next crop in the spring. Daryl hung back and perched on the walkway above it all, watching, the arrows he was supposed to be sharpening lying forgotten next to him. Until Beth noticed him. When she tried to wave him down he shook his head but Beth wasn't taking no for an answer. She darted up the stairs and tugged on his hand.

"Please come join us," she pleaded.

"Too many people down there," he grumbled.

"Then sit on the stairs with Daddy," she said. "Pretty please?"

"Alright, fine," he relented, shuffling after her. He settled on the top step just to be difficult and win part of the argument, keeping as much distance between himself and the growing crowd downstairs. It didn't seem to bother Beth in the slightest as she gave him a small, shy smile and returned to playing with Judith.

Rick noticed the gradual trickle of people as they came in. Every single one of the prison's inhabitants had spilled into Cell Block B and filled the place with a cozy humming buzz of chatter, or were simply sitting, enjoying the ease of company and the rare, precious moment of peace. For all the time they had been at the prison with the occasional spat as personalities clashed, there had never been a night like this one where everyone was together for companionship instead of the need for survival. Seeing as they were stuck in the same boat, clawing their way through mud, blood and the undead just to make it through the day with what meager lives they led, they learned quickly how to work together well enough. As human beings with fears, insecurities, dreams…they were practically strangers to each other. The fight to survive may have brought them together but they still didn't truly know one another, until tonight anyway.

Judith lost interest in her cups and twisted around until she could see Rick sitting only a few feet away. She stretched towards him, reaching her little chubby arms out and whimpered. Beth picked her up, bouncing her lightly, and delivered her into Rick's waiting arms. Judith's round little cheeks split into a toothless grin and she grabbed a fistful of his beard with a giggle.

"Looks like she's got an iron grip there," Carl pointed out in amusement.

"That would be her mother's influence," Rick said as he tried to gently pry her fingers away. He wrapped her tiny hand in his and glanced up at Beth.

"So this was your plan all along?" he asked, tipping his head towards the room.

She crouched on her heels and adjusted Judith's purple beanie to cover her ears, growing red with the cold. "It reminds me a little of what we used to do at home durin' the holidays. Even after Mama died and we didn't feel like celebratin' much of anything, we did somethin' for Christmas, at least. Like we were remindin' ourselves that no matter how bad things got…" she shrugged. "We always had each other."

Rick brushed Judith's soft cheek with one finger. It seemed impossibly grim most of the time, this world they struggled to survive in on a daily basis. But as he looked into Judith's big blue eyes, wide and innocent and still full of wonder, as he looked at Carl, mature beyond his years already and all too eager to rush headlong into trouble with no regard for his own safety if it meant helping someone in need…he knew Beth was right. He'd lost himself for a while when Lori died, and he caught himself revisiting his precarious balance right on the lip of that bottomless abyss sometimes. It wouldn't take much, to tip over the edge and never come back. Except for Carl and Judith. He missed Lori like crazy and part of him knew that would never change but as he sat on the cold prison floor, surrounded by the dim, comforting glow of the candles with Carl next to him and Judith on his lap, he thought that maybe, despite the nightmares he had witnessed, despite the horrors he had committed that haunted him in the unforgiving, brutally honest hours of the night, there might still be a tiny bit of hope left to salvage from the wreckage and hold close.

Rick pressed a kiss to Judith's forehead and wrapped an arm around Carl's shoulders. He met Beth's gaze again with a grateful nod.

"I never would have realized how much we needed this. Thank you."

Beth blushed slightly, pleased that her plan had worked. Maggie called softly to her from the stairs where she sat with Glenn and Hershel and motioned Beth over.

"We're ready," Maggie said.

Rick's eyebrows shot up. "You've got more up your sleeve?"

Beth grinned again and instead of replying, she joined Maggie at the stairs, snuggling in close to Hershel. After a brief whispered discussion with Maggie, Beth took a deep breath and opened her mouth to sing. The buzz of chatter instantly fell silent as people listened to Beth's voice ringing out clear and pure and sweet. When Maggie joined in with Glenn and Hershel providing a deeper accompaniment, the effect was eerily beautiful and liberating as the song grew and grew, breaking free of the suffocating need to stay quiet at all times, just this once.

_"__Hark how the bells  
>Sweet silver bells<br>All seem to say,  
>"Throw cares away."<br>Christmas is here  
>Bringing good cheer<br>To young and old  
>Meek and the bold<em>__

_Ding, dong, ding, dong  
>That is their song<br>With joyful ring  
>All caroling<br>One seems to hear  
>Words of good cheer<br>From ev'rywhere  
>Filling the air<em>

_Oh how they pound,  
>Raising the sound,<br>O'er hill and dale,  
>Telling their tale,<br>Gaily they ring  
>While people sing<br>Songs of good cheer  
>Christmas is here<br>Merry, merry, merry, merry Christmas  
>Merry, merry, merry, merry Christmas."<em>

When the song was over, no one spoke for the longest time as they remembered the loved ones lost, thinking about how far they had come, how different everything was since the last holiday season they had. For a brief moment, as the last of the notes took wing and faded into silence, things almost seemed…normal. Almost.

For little Judith, the seriousness of the moment was too much and she started to squirm with impatience. She patted Rick's cheek and when he turned and kissed her tiny fist in response, she squealed with laughter.

"Dada!"

The word, so small and innocent, hung in the air, bittersweet in its simplicity. Rick's breath caught in his throat and he couldn't help but wish, more than anything, that Lori was there with them.

"Was that her first word?" Carl asked as Judith wrapped her fist around one of his fingers.

Rick nodded, suddenly finding it hard to speak around the tightness in his throat. Carl cast a sidelong glance at Rick when he didn't reply and caught the warring emotions in his father's face.

"I wish she was here too," he whispered.

Rick squeezed his eyes closed and pulled Carl even closer. Judith released her grip on Carl's finger and curled up on Rick's chest, her forehead resting against his neck. He rubbed her back in a steady rhythm until her breathing softened and he knew she was asleep, for a while anyway.

One by one, just as they had come in, people began to wander back to their respective cells. They scrambled to cling to the slim threads of happy memories that had resurfaced with Beth's song, the happy memories that seemed to fall apart more and more with every passing day until there were only bits and pieces left.

Beth stayed in Cell Block B until everyone else had gone. She snuffed out each candle slowly, as if by taking her time she could make the serenity of the moment last just a little while longer and hold off the harsh, unforgiving reality of the outside world. When she passed the window, she froze then curled her mittened hands around the cold iron bars and pulled herself up on her tiptoes to get a better look. Delicate wisps of snow drifted through the air as if in slow motion with no stirring shift of the wind. Beth's breath began to fog up the glass and she rubbed it away with her hand. She watched, entranced, until her legs started to burn from the strain of standing on her tiptoes but still she didn't want to look away. She hadn't seen snow since she was little, even though she hoped and prayed for it every year. If she looked past the fences, past the shuffling walkers scattered around outside, if she just watched how the snow fell in the trees, how it seemed to whisper as it graced the ground...she could imagine that she was home, in her bedroom above the kitchen at midnight, wrapped up in her comforter as she sat at the window overlooking the fields on Christmas Eve, too excited to sleep…

Hershel watched Beth from the doorway of his cell. As she struggled to stay balanced on the very tips of her toes to peer out the window, he could still see the little girl she used to be, six years old, her hands pressed to the window and fogging up the glass with excited little gusts of breath as she witnessed her first snowfall. His chest ached with the memory. She was nearly a grown woman now and yet she was still so small in this big, cruel world. No matter how much time had passed, no matter how much the world would change her, toughen her up until she felt nothing, break her heart time after time until there wasn't anything to piece back together again…to him, she would always be that little girl, lost in a cloud of wonder as she watched the snow fall.


	11. For APenny12 - BethylHershel

**View from Above**

I felt nothing. Absolutely weightless. The pain, the fear, the heartbreak at hearing my girls' screams, the deafening gunfire – it was all gone. The only thing I felt was peace.

I looked around, taking in my surroundings. I'm not sure how I got here, wherever here was. It all looked familiar, yet completely new to me at the same time. A lone figure was walking toward me, quickly, but not rushed.

"Welcome home, Hershel." I heard a kind sounding voice address me.

"Is this..." I started to ask, but the words wouldn't leave my lips.

The figure simply nodded and held its arms out to the sides. "It is. Your eternal reward."

I nodded back. I knew I hadn't survived, I just...didn't expect this. "What do I do now?"

"Whatever you wish." I could hear the smile in the voice.

I looked down at my feet. The ground seemed to fade beneath them. I could see tiny movements below the soles of my feet. Then all of a sudden everything was transported and I was there with my family again, hovering over them. I looked up and the figure was still beside me. "Is this...is that them? That's really happening?"

The being nodded again. "You may watch from up here, but you can't go back. You raised your family well, taught them and cared for them. There's no reason for you to go back. Once you're here, there's no becoming a ghost among the living."

A thought crossed my mind. "What about Annette? Josephine? Are they here too?"

"Yes. They know you're here. I imagine they'll be along soon to welcome you, too."

I nodded and sighed, relieved that I wasn't exactly alone. "Thank you." I turned, but the figure had already left. I directed my focus back down to what was happening on earth. It was total chaos. My family, both blood and adopted, were scattering, trying to protect themselves, protect their home. I could feel how scared they were, how angry, and wanted so badly to be with them. I felt a soft hand on my shoulder. Startled, I looked over and saw Annette smiling at me. Words failed me as she wrapped her arms around me.

"Hello, Hershel," she said softly. "Oh, it's good to hold you again."

I laughed against her hair as I hugged her back. It felt wrong to cry in a place like this. I pulled back from her and the sound of an explosion echoed from below us.

"Things look pretty bad down there, don't they?" she observed.

Of course she'd be watching our Bethy from up here; I wasn't sure why I was surprised. I nodded in agreement. "I wish I could help them. They look so lost, so scared."

"We can't directly interfere. The only ones allowed to actually visit are the angels, and that's only in very severe cases. They all have to figure it out on their own. Goes with the free will and all that," Annette explained.

I grimaced at the news, but knew she was right. I felt another hand on my shoulder. I turned to look and found Josephine. "Jo..." I whispered.

She laughed and pulled me into an embrace. "About time you got here."

I suddenly felt very awkward between the two women, my first and second wives. "Jo, I..."

She pressed her fingers against my lips. "It's alright, Hershel. I didn't want you to be alone when I died. You needed help with Maggie." She looked over at Annette, who was still smiling. "I hated seeing the both of you together but so alone. I sent her to you. I knew you both needed each other."

"You sent...Annette? How?" I asked, surprised at this revelation. I looked at Annette, "You said we couldn't interfere."

Annette shrugged, "We can't...at least we can't go back to change the course of events." Her lips curled into a grin. "Did you ever hear that tiny voice in your head telling you to go right instead of left? To order chicken instead of steak? Diet instead of regular soda?" I nodded, still confused. "That was us, Jo and I, still watching over you, helping to guide your decisions."

I frowned and kept looking between the two of them. Jo tried explaining, "We can't go down and take someone and force their hand, but we can point them in the right direction and hope they go that way. A somewhat less-than-divine intervention."

I looked at the scene below me again, letting this new information sink in. "How?" I asked, and looked at the two loves of my life. "How do you do it?"

Annette spoke first, her face full of compassion. "It's not easy...takes lots of practice. It's like praying. You focus your thoughts on the ones you love and talk to them as if you were there with them."

"We can't do it all the time, just when they need a little nudge in the right direction," Jo continued. "Remember, free will. If you try to make them do something they wouldn't do on their own, it won't work."

I nodded and looked down again. I searched until I saw my daughters, Beth and Maggie, scrambling to find each other. They were near the bus that was supposed to get everyone out of the prison in case of an emergency...like the situation they were all in now. I watched as Maggie handed her gun to Beth, telling her, "We've all got jobs to do," and took off, running to find Glenn. It hurt to see my little Bethy standing alone outside the bus, a gun half the size of her in her arms, fighting not to cry. I wanted to tell Maggie to get back to her sister, but knew how important finding Glenn was. He was sick, and was about to be left behind. Beth looked around at the scene exploding around her and ran back toward the prison, heading for the library, where all the kids were supposed to be hiding.

I breathed a sigh of relief when Maggie found Glenn and brought him back to the bus, and my heart twisted when she realized Beth wasn't there anymore. I was so proud of her when she directed Glenn to stay in the safety of the bus as she looked for her sister. She ran to the small garden area where Sasha and Bob were near the picnic tables, immediately asking if they had seen Beth. Neither of them had. I watched as Bob got shot in the shoulder, thankful it wasn't a fatal wound. My heart sank along with theirs as the bus pulled away right before their eyes. They took off, still dodging bullets piercing the air around them. I prayed a silent "Thank you," to whoever was keeping my family safe.

Another loud explosion caught my attention; I saw the tank now on fire, the driver fleeing the burning vehicle, only to stare down the business end of Daryl's crossbow. I was so proud of that young man; who else but Daryl could put down a tank single-handedly? He finished off the tank driver and stood silently over him.

A new fear gripped me as I saw Beth stumble out of the prison, all alone, lost and clearly without any plan. She hadn't found any of the children, and she was more concerned about where they might be than her own safety. I watched as realization dawned on her, that the bus was gone, seemingly no one left. She ran blindly into the courtyard, where the burning tank was sitting.

I knew my Bethy was strong, stronger than she knew, but on her own out in this world, she wouldn't make it. She needed someone to help her realize her strength. I had hoped Maggie would be there to pick up where I had left off, but she was gone already. The nearest person was...Daryl.

I knew there was no one else in this group that had become my family that would be able to take care of my baby girl, who could prepare her for the hardships of this world. He would keep her fed, keep her safe. I knew he was still rough around the edges, and it would be hard on my Beth, but I needed her to survive. She was too good to let this world kill her. My mind was made up.

I did as Annette had said, focused my thoughts on Daryl, trying to get through to him. "Just wait...just wait... please, just wait..." I repeated over and over, and to my surprise, he never moved, only looked ahead at the exit leading into the woods - his safe haven.

Beth came tearing around the corner, almost running into Daryl as he stood stock still. "I was trying to find the kids to get them on the bus," she explained, and her words seemed to snap him out of his trance.

He glanced around the courtyard, at the ruins of their prison home, then back at her. "We gotta go, Beth. We gotta go," was all he said and he took off running, Beth close behind.

I almost wept in relief. She'd be safe. He'd keep her that way. Maggie was strong, she could handle herself out there, and she had Sasha and Bob and was on her way to find her husband, and I'd keep my eye on her to make sure she stayed that way. I knew Jo and Annette would be watching, too, that our girls would never be out of our sight.

I watched as Beth pushed on to keep up with Daryl, running through trees and fields, beyond the point of exhaustion for both of them. I watched as they both collapsed, side by side, gasping to catch their breath, and I prayed that they'd stay safe while they took this much needed rest. They travelled on, ending up at the edge of the woods, where Daryl built a small fire for the two of them. I beamed with pride when Beth declared that they couldn't be the only survivors. Her faith in everyone else making it out alive was so strong; she was so adamant. I saw that Daryl didn't believe a word of it, but his demeanor didn't stop her from pushing on. When he showed no signs of getting up and she left without him, I grew anxious. It was bad enough thinking about her being by herself, only her small knife for a weapon, in broad daylight, but at night? In the woods?

I focused my thoughts again and begged Daryl to stay with her. Eventually he sighed heavily, put out the fire and trudged after her. I was surprised how easily he had heard me, but was glad for it.

They stumbled through the darkness, Daryl never letting Beth too far out of his sight. They marched on through the night, neither of them able to sleep anyway. Daryl followed what few tracks he could find as best he could in the dim moonlight. As morning broke over the horizon, they picked up speed and eventually came across a place where a group from the prison had clearly been, four or five hours ago according to Daryl.

I smiled down as I heard my daughter announce, so determined, so adamantly, "It wouldn't kill you to have a little faith."

"Yeah, faith. Faith ain't done shit for us. Sure as hell ain't do nothing for your father."

'Oh, Daryl.' I shook my head. 'If you only knew.'

"Why would he say that?" I heard from beside me. I glanced up and found Annette was by my side. I'd been so consumed with watching my youngest that I'd forgotten these two women were still here with me, watching our daughters.

"Well, he had faith that they could all stay at the prison. That certainly didn't pan out." Ah, my Jo, always the snarky one. I was instantly reminded just where Maggie got her sense of humor.

"I understand that," Annette responded, never taking her eyes off the scene below us. "Why bring up Hershel? Seems kind of a calloused to say something like that, doesn't it?"

I chuckled. "That's just Daryl being Daryl. Not always the best in social situations," I explained. Still, his comment made me wonder just what was going on in his head. Why he had to throw that in her face. I returned to observing the pair.

Beth had started to pick berries for when she found any other survivors. My heart swelled with pride – my Bethy, ever the eternal optimist. Her tiny hands were quickly filling with the fruit. She needed something to help hold her small harvest. I had just started thinking, focusing on Daryl, when he offered her his bandana. It seemed I was very adept at communicating with the man, and wondered if it was me in tune with him or if he was more open-hearted than I gave him credit for.

I was lost in thought as they continued on their trek and came upon the remnants of those they had been tracking. Poor, sensitive Beth broke down crying, her fragile sense of hope wounded. I wanted to hold her, to tell her not to give up, to keep the faith, and tried to channel all of that through Daryl. I was all but screaming in my mind to him, begging him to show some compassion, but her ignored my concentrated plea and walked on.

I looked to my side and saw Annette sitting in quiet concentration. I marveled at the determination on her face, in awe when I saw Beth respond to her focused effort. Gradually our daughter calmed herself, stopped the flow of tears and followed after Daryl.

"Amazing," I breathed and she looked up at me, her eyes curious as to what I was talking about. "She really heard you, really responded. What did you say to her?"

Annette just smiled serenely, her eyes looking tired, "Just told her to have faith. Be calm. Carry on. They tend to respond better if you keep it simple."

I looked to my other side to see Jo kneeling, her eyes squeezed shut. I peered down and saw Maggie working with Bob and Sasha clearing out a bus now full of walkers. It was clear that for her to make contact with our daughter was taking a lot out of Josephine. 'That's odd. Why did I have an easier time getting Daryl to hear me? Maybe it's because we were only just recently separated from each other,' I thought guiltily. Jo must have to work harder because she had been gone longer. To my surprise, Maggie suddenly stood stock still, leaving the other two to fend for themselves. "Why did you stop her? The others could have gotten hurt."

Jo kept her eyes closed as she replied, "They were fine. She was getting reckless, about to get herself hurt."

The next thing I knew, night had fallen, leaving Beth and Daryl surrounded by darkness in the middle of a forest, and a large group of walkers wasn't far behind them. The two came to a road running through the woods. They were scavenging through an abandoned car they had found when the walkers caught up with them. I watched as they scrambled into the trunk. As they sat together, I prayed for their safety throughout the night.

Morning came after a night filled with terror, both from the walkers snarling to get to their prey inside the car and from the lightning storm raging around them. Beth crawled out of the trunk first, and they started looking again for items they could use. When Daryl silently began walking down the road, Beth followed dutifully after him.

The day wore on; Beth set up camp as Daryl hunted for a meal for the two of them. As they ate, Beth started talking about looking for a drink, and went on to search alone for her first alcoholic drink.

"Absolutely not," I bellowed. "She knows better. She's too young." I focused my efforts on getting Daryl to move, to stop my daughter, to talk some sense into her, but the archer just sat and continued eating, letter her walk off into the woods alone. I hoped for a moment that Beth would lose her nerve at going off on her own, but knowing my daughter, that was highly unlikely. I was mentally screaming at Daryl to get up, but the man wouldn't move. "Why won't he do anything" I asked, my voice frantic with panic; I could see that Beth was stubbornly marching directly toward a small group of walkers. "Why won't either of them listen? Daryl heard me earlier, I'm just sure he did."

Annette and Josephine both grinned at me. Annette spoke first. "Hershel, you're still new at this. Maybe the other times were just...luck."

"Besides," Jo interjected, "what's so bad about getting a drink? If I was Beth, I'd be doing the same thing. She's a young woman on a mission; she's been through a lot, and she's a smart girl with a good head on her shoulders." She placed a calming hand on my shoulder, "Have a little faith in her."

When I had calmed down a little, I saw that Daryl had, in fact, started after Beth. 'So he did hear me, although apparently, food is more important than my daughter's safety,' I seethed. The pair was headed to an overrun country club. I felt, rather than saw, both Annette and Jo moving next to me.

"Come on, dear," Jo said softly. "Take a break. You've been watching for hours."

I stayed in place, refusing to move. "What if they get in trouble? What if there's something I can do to help?"

Annette pulled me along with her. "Daryl's a good man. Beth's a smart girl. They'll take care of each other. Really, Hershel," she said with a tsk of her tongue, "have some faith."

I reluctantly followed the two women I loved so much. While it was beyond wonderful to be with them again, to reminisce about old times, to hear their laughs again, my mind couldn't focus on their conversation for very long. My mind kept wandering back to what was going on below, if my girls were still safe. I swore I heard shouting from below me and found I just couldn't fight it any longer; I had to know what was going on.

Beth and Daryl were in the middle of a heated argument, though I wasn't entirely sure what it was about. I was certainly proud of my youngest for standing up to the older man, for holding her own. Daryl turned his back on her, talking about how he should have tried harder to find the Governor. He was blaming himself for the attack on the prison that had scattered our family to the wind. "Oh, son, it's not your fault. None of it. You did all you could," I spoke softly, not sure if he'd actually hear me. My heart was full of pride for this man, for all he had done for our family.

"And your dad..." Daryl began before his voice broke and tears began to fall. Beth wrapped her slender arms around him and they stood together in silence.

I looked up and saw Jo and Annette grinning again. "What?" I asked, genuinely confused. "What are you smiling at?"

The women only stood and smiled. Jo turned to Annette, "You saw it, too, didn't you?"

"Yes, I think I did."

"Saw what?" I demanded, but the women refused to answer.

"Don't worry," Annette told me, "You'll see it soon enough, I suspect."

I was still very much confused, but chose to believe what they were saying and returned to watching below to try to figure out what I'd missed. Beth and Daryl were sitting on the porch now, drinking out of mason jars. "That's not water, is it?" I asked Jo, my voice full of doubt; I already knew my answer based on their more relaxed conversation now. There must have been some kind of still at the rundown shack and together they had raided the stash of white lightning.

I listened in, my heart starting to break when Beth described the future she had been hoping for. I heard her suggest they burn the shack down and instantly tried to get through to them to keep them from following through. Where would they go in the middle of the night, both of them drunk, wandering through the woods?

A whispered voice stopped me. "Let them be, Hershel." I looked up at both women staring fondly at me. "They need this. They don't need us right now. Let them be." As much as it pained me, I knew they were right. I had to have faith in my girl and her safe keeper. I turned and followed Annette and Jo into our eternal celebration.

The thing about eternity is there really is no concept of time. From where I was standing, it seemed only a matter of hours had passed, but the next time I looked down, it was clear that weeks, if not months, had passed in the land of the living. I found Beth and Daryl, both of them still looking healthy and whole and even...happy. What had happened in my absence?

Was that Beth holding Daryl's crossbow? Something had clearly shifted in their relationship for him to trust her with his most prized possession. And Beth was leading Daryl? Apparently he had been training her, and training her well. That certainly explained things. It would have taken lots of trust on both parts to come to this point, but spending all this time together, depending on each other, would surely garner a strong connection between the two of them.

I watched, concerned, as Beth went down, her foot caught in some kind of trap. I was impressed that she still managed to come close to hitting her target; my sweet little girl had turned into quite the huntress. I trusted Daryl to keep protecting her, and he didn't disappoint for a moment. They carried on, Beth hobbling behind him now, until Daryl stopped in his tracks and stooped low, offering a "serious piggyback." I took a breath to protest – they were getting far too close for my comfort – but was stopped by Annette's hand on my shoulder.

She smiled warmly at me, then raised her eyebrows. "You're starting to see it, aren't you?"

I snapped my mouth shut and stared at her wildly. "I see an older man who's got his hands on my little girl," I ground out.

"Hershel," Annette said, her voice instantly soothing, "Look at them." They had found an old funeral home, and Beth was standing before a grave stone. Daryl picked some withering wildflowers and laid them atop the marker. I gasped as Beth reached for his hand, their fingers intertwining. "Do you see it?" Annette asked again. "They care for each other very much. They are what each other needs."

"But...but it's Daryl. He's too hard for our little Bethy."

"She's not so soft as you'd like to think, dear. That's a good thing," she quickly added. "In that world, she has to be strong, and Daryl has helped her come into her own. And look at him."

I directed my attention on them again. Beth was asking him if he thought something was beautiful, but he remained silent. There was something in his eyes, like he was trying to communicate with her silently, but instead just offered to wrap her injured ankle.

"See? He cares very much about her. And based on that look he gave her..." Annette trailed off and gave me a wink. "Well, we'll just have to wait and see."

I couldn't take my eyes off them. She was all smiles around him, and his demeanor had changed drastically. He seemed to find all manner of reasons to touch her, always innocently enough; the touches were harmless, never intending to lead to anything, but were meaningful all the same. It reminded me of when I was courting Jo and Annette. My eyes grew wider at the realization, something like shock settling into my system.

Day became night and my heart soared as Beth began playing the piano and singing. It had been such a long time since my ears had heard the beautiful music she created. My view shifted to Daryl standing in the doorway to the viewing parlor. He seemed as mesmerized by her as I was. I found myself less and less upset that he was looking at my daughter this way. It was clearly evident that he cared a great deal for her; knowing Daryl, he would only have the most honorable of intentions and would never take advantage of or force himself on her. I'd actually be surprised if he made any move on her at all.

He crossed into the room after a long moment of listening to her, muttering something about having locked up the house then hopped into the empty casket lying open near the piano. He suggested she keep on singing.

"I thought my singing annoyed you," Beth cocked a wary eyebrow at him.

So did I, come to think of it.

"Well, there ain't no juke box, so..." he trailed off and watched as Beth grinned and turned back to the piano and picked up singing her song. This time, my eyes never left Daryl, and his never left her until he stared up at the ceiling and dropped his hand to his forehead.

"My God," I whispered in half-disbelief, "He loves her." I looked to Annette and Josephine. "How? When?"

"Does it matter?" Jo asked.

I decided she had a point, and that it didn't really matter. "Does she...?"

Annette shrugged, "I've got my suspicions, but it's very easy to love her, and even easier for her to love."

"But she's so young," I protested.

"So what?" asked Josephine. "We were both pretty young when we met. And you and Annette had several years between the two of you."

I was still trying to wrap my brain around the whole thing. It was morning down below when I finally looked back. Beth was hobbling her way toward the kitchen where Daryl had already set out breakfast for the two of them. He had made some comment about her moving faster. I heard her tell him she was going as fast as she could, but apparently it wasn't fast enough. He scooped her into his arms without warning and carried her the rest of the way to the kitchen table, which was all of ten feet or so. Both women next to me tittered excitedly. I couldn't hide my smile once I saw Beth's grin and heard her infectious laughter, saw her arms linked around his neck. I shook my head and took a double take.

Daryl was smiling. He looked so proud and...genuinely happy.

And Beth had made him that way. They made each other happier than I'd ever seen either of them.

"I just...I can't believe it," I murmured. "Who would have thought my little doodlebug would fall in love with a man like Daryl?" Jo and Annette shared a knowing look, but chose to keep their thoughts silent. "What?" I inquired, but was only answered with both of them shrugging and playing innocent. I found myself laughing along with them.

Beth and Daryl were still seated at the small kitchen table the next time I looked down, but now Daryl had sat himself right next to her instead of across from her. It was night time now and the kitchen was glowing with the light of several tea light candles spread out around the room. Beth was busy writing a thank you letter to whomever owned the house, but Daryl stopped her.

"Maybe you don't need to leave that. Maybe we stick around here for a while. They come back, we'll just make it work. They may be nuts, but maybe it'll be alright."

Beth grinned smugly and asked him what made him realize that there were still good people left in the world. After he shrugged away her question, Beth pressed on. Daryl's only answer was simply to stare at her, as if he was willing her to hear his thoughts. She responded with a soft, "Oh." I could feel the tension, not necessarily unwelcomed by either of them, all the way from my viewpoint.

A sound came from the front porch, and Daryl got up to see what had caused it. I realized too late that he'd left his crossbow at the table. I frantically tried to call down to him, to warn him of the dangers on the other side of the door, but to no avail. Over a dozen walkers were pushing on the door to get at him. I fought to keep them at bay, calling to Beth, who brought his weapon and tossed it to him. He instructed her to get out of the house to meet him by the road, that he would meet her there. She yelled back that she wouldn't leave him, but he insisted and led the walkers down into the basement.

I looked at Annette and Jo imploringly, begging them to help me help them. "It's no use, Hershel," Annette said softly. "Sometimes there's just too much going on at once for them to hear us. We just have to trust that they'll make it on their own. They're both strong. They'll make it." She gave me a look and I could hear her thoughts loud and clear: have faith.

Beth made it to the road fine, just as Daryl was starting to make his way back up the stairs. A black car came out of nowhere, and a man dressed as a policeman jumped out and grabbed for her. She fought, and fought hard. Jo, Annette and I were all outraged. Not this, not now; not when they were both safe and happy and together. Had these men set the house as a trap?

The policeman fighting with Beth reached for the bag slung over her shoulder. They both pulled, straining the strap until it broke, scattering the items inside onto the pavement. Beth fell to the ground, breaking her fall with her right hand, her wrist bending at an awkward angle, clearly broken now. I wanted nothing more than to go down and comfort her, but knew Daryl was on his way and would be able to protect her. The cop grabbed her and was pulling her toward the back seat of the car. I was proud to see she never once stopped fighting. I watched, helplessly, as the cop hit her across the cheek, knocking her out cold. I howled with rage, unheard save for the two women who stood by me, silently weeping.

"The fuck you doin'?" I heard a gruff southern drawl come out of nowhere. Daryl was standing just off the road, his crossbow loaded and aimed directly at the cop. The uniformed man froze in place, leaving Beth to lie on the ground.

"Look, just stand back. We've got this under control," he said, one hand outstretched, trying to keep Daryl at a distance, the other hand on the butt of his gun.

"The hell you do. You knocked my girl the fuck out. You got about two seconds to tell me why," he growled, all the while stepping closer.

The driver of the car stepped out, his hands in the air. "I can explain. We're from Atlanta, Grady Hospital. Out looking for survivors. We were driving along the road and saw her walking along, obviously favoring her right ankle. We saw all the rotters around and figured we'd stop to help. Officer Gorman here tried to get her to come into the car, but she resisted, started panicking."

"You stopped to help by hitting her? Look at her arm. Did you break her damn arm?" Daryl's voice growing louder and angrier with each syllable. "How the fuck you gonna make this right?" he asked heatedly, aiming directly at Gorman's head now.

Gorman pulled his pistol out of his holster and Daryl let the arrow he had loaded fly. Gorman's arms went slack; he fell to his knees, and collapsed on the ground next to Beth.

Daryl stomped up to the car, yanking the arrow out of the dead man's skull. "Here's what we're gonna do." He stooped to pick up the discarded pistol and tucked it under his belt. He made his way around the car to stand toe to toe with the driver. "You're gonna take us to this hospital, get my girl here all fixed up, and once she's healed, you're gonna drive us back out here so we can keep looking for the rest of our family." He was now face to face with the other man, who was clearly quivering in fear. "Ain'tcha?" The driver nodded vigorously.

Daryl walked back to where Beth was still lying unconscious, keeping one eye on the driver the whole time. He carefully picked her up and gently placed her on the car seat, closed the door, and walked back around to sit behind the driver. "Let's move," he commanded, and the driver obeyed.

The three of us stood in shock. I knew Daryl could be a hard ass, but this type of behavior left me absolutely flabbergasted. Beth regained consciousness along the way and Daryl had explained to her what was happening. Then something remarkable happened – Beth curled into his side, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, and hugged his side, muttering a thank you. Daryl stiffened, but eventually relaxed against her and even brought his arm to rest around her shoulders, his eyes constantly on alert for any sign of foul play.

I inhaled sharply at the contact, still not accustomed to seeing such a closeness between the two, but the looks Annette and Jo gave me had me rethinking and realizing that my Bethy could do far worse than a man like Daryl Dixon. We watched as they approached the hospital and the driver escorted them inside. He brought them to meet the woman in charge, a small but fierce woman named Dawn Lerner. She told Daryl they would help Beth, but because her officers had effectively rescued them from a herd of rotters and now they'd be giving Beth medical treatment, they would owe the people at Grady.

"Like hell," Daryl spat back at her. "Wouldn't be here if it weren't for your boy...the hell was his name...Gorman. Nah. You owe us. I'll let you off the hook if you get her back to health and we'll get the hell out of here."

"And what about payment for while you're staying here? It'll be at least a couple weeks until her wrist is completely healed. That's quite a drain on our resources. You would still owe us," she insisted.

Daryl chewed his lip, weighing his options. "Aight. I go hunting, every damn day, bring you back what I can. Fair enough?"

Apparently the idea of fresh meat on a daily basis appealed to the rest of the staff privy to the conversation; they all looked expectantly at Dawn, who finally acquiesced. "Fair enough. My medical team heals her, you provide food, and the minute the cast is off, you're gone."

Daryl didn't say another word to her, only fixed her with an icy glare. A doctor, or at least a man dressed in a white lab coat, came forward to usher them into an exam room to treat Beth's cut cheek and fractured wrist, Daryl never leaving her side for a moment.

I chuckled to myself. "Ladies. I think our girl is going to be just fine."


	12. For PrintDust - LoRick

So. Many. People. Each December was the same. The closer it got to Christmas the more crowded the stores became. Rick for one, hated crowds. It was the cop in him, he told himself. He couldn't shut off his instincts to watch the mass of people, waiting for someone to snap. Hell, if one more person cut him off to grab an item he wasn't even interested in, it might be him that snaps.

Rick was here on a mission. He needed to find a perfect gift for his wife. They had only been married a few months and with this being their first Christmas he wanted it to be extra special.

Of course he had already purchased a few small things, like scented soaps he thought she would like, and a mug with a G on it for the coffee she loves so much. Despite all his searching, he had yet to find the perfect gift.

He browsed the books before finally moving on, a book just wouldn't do. He thought about buying her jewelry but that he had already bought her a few pieces since they had been married and for some reason, the idea of another necklace or ring just didn't feel right, to him or to their joint bank account.

He would just have to think of something else.

All of a sudden, it hit him, the perfect gift. She'd mentioned it a few times and now was his chance to give it to her. With a smile on his face, Rick set off to the home wares department.

Christmas morning came and Rick woke with a smile on his face. Easing his arm out from underneath Lori's head Rick stood as silently as he could. He pressed a kiss to her forehead and went to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee.

As he prepared the coffee Rick hummed the only Christmas song that he could think of at the moment, "Jingle Bells." It wasn't his favorite but he knew all of the words and it would do for now.

He set the coffee on a breakfast tray and grabbed an apple to slice. Coffee? Check. Apple? Check. Oatmeal? Check. He arranged all the food on a tray and carefully moved back to the bedroom.

"Lori. Hey, Lori. Merry Christmas." He set the tray down on the bed and kissed Lori again. He pressed kisses to her cheek, nose, mouth. Finally she woke up and kissed him back.

"Merry Christmas, babe," she whispered. "You made all of this?"

"Just for you," Rick smiled, happy he had started her morning off right. He wanted this Christmas to be one they remember forever.

They took their time eating breakfast, both of them enjoying the company of the other. Soon enough the food was gone and they were both ready to get up and start the Christmas tradition of opening presents by the tree.

Rick leaned over and pressed a kiss to the side of her mouth before jumping out of bed saying, "race you to the tree."

Lori shook her head with a wide smile, laughing at his behavior. Sometimes it felt like they already had a child, Lori thought to herself as she raced after him.

When she got to the living room she found Rick lounging at the base of the tree, trying to act as if he had been there for a great deal of time, when it had actually been just a few seconds.

"Loser opens gifts second, them's the rules Sweets," Rick said with a grin.

Lori pouted her lips and sat down on his lap. "Well, I suppose… if those are the rules…"

Rick coughed and grabbed a gift from the stack. His joke, not quite going down the way he had intended.

"Oh, look at that. This one's yours. Why don't you go ahead and open it," he said, putting the gift into her hands.

Lori gleefully tore into the gift, pulling out a scarf he had bought her from a little shop downtown. "It's lovely!" Lori said as she wrapped it around her neck.

"Your turn," she said, sliding off Rick's lap and grabbing a gift from the small pile under the tree.

Rick carefully slid his finger between the tape and the paper, breaking the seal it held. He knew the way he opened gifts annoyed Lori and he continued doing it just to tease her.

"Gah! Rick just open it already! We're not saving the paper here!"

He knew it. Ten seconds in and she said something.

"I'm just enjoying the process, Babe."

Finally the colorful wrapping paper was all removed and the gift was revealed. It was a VHS copy of their favorite new Christmas movie, National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation. They had seen it in theaters when it first came out and were in stiches the whole time.

"It's great babe, we should watch it later," he said with a smile, setting the gift to the side and grabbing another.

Slowly but surely they made it through the pile of gifts. A watch for him, a blouse for her. Gloves for her, aftershave for him. Sunglasses for him, a mug for her. Finally all the gifts had been opened and Rick was ready for her to see the one he was most excited about.

"How about we go get some coffee?" Rick said. He needed to get her to go into the kitchen.

"Coffee sounds great."

Lori followed him to their small kitchen. It was barely big enough to fit two grown adults. They liked it though, it felt cozy. He stepped to the side to make sure that she could see the wrapped gift on the counter.

Lori smiled when she saw it. "What's this?"

"It's a surprise. I wanted you to have it. Open it," Rick said with a smile.

Lori grinned as she tore into the wrapping paper covering her surprise gift.

When she saw the gift inside she spun around and pulled Rick into a hug. "It's perfect, babe. I love it."

He hugged her back, glad she was happy with the electric griddle. He hadn't had them before but he knew that she loved Sunday morning pancakes. Maybe now they could have them every week.


	13. For Kaligoddess - GlaggieBeth

_My prompts were pretty easy to work with, and I chose one that allowed me to write an episode tag for the mid-season finale. How heartbreaking was that, huh? Poor Maggie. _

_._

_._

.

Watching her grieve was heartbreaking.

After that first outburst . . . that piercing, anguished wail that still seemed to linger in the air . . . Maggie retreated inside herself until the face she showed the world was a blank slate. Cold. Emotionless. Detached.

She shed her last tears with the final shovel of dirt over her sister's grave and then she slept there, on the scarred earth beside it, not knowing and not caring that the others stood guard to allow her that one night's vigil.

Also unknown to her, there had been a heated discussion over that vigil, one that almost became something far more serious. No one wanted to stay that close to the hospital. It wasn't safe. How could they trust the people in there to keep their word?

In the end, they stayed because Glenn wouldn't leave Maggie and Rick refused to leave either of them.

And Rick had the last word. When the tension spiked high and hands moved to weapons, he stepped in.

"We leave at dawn."

And that was that. There was a new coldness in their _de facto_ leader that made even Abraham wary.

When the sun rose, so did Maggie. She stuffed a handful of dirt in her pocket then turned her back on the grave and walked away. In the three days since, she'd spoken 26 words.

Glenn had counted.

"You know what I miss?"

The question came out of the blue. He'd volunteered to scout ahead for a campsite for the night and without a word, Maggie had fallen in behind him. They'd traveled at least a mile from the group and now, suddenly, she came to a halt in the shadows of the tall Georgia pines and looked up into the patchy blue sky.

He wasn't sure he understood what she was asking.

"What?"

"Cats."

He definitely didn't understand what she was asking.

"What?"

Maggie shrugged self-consciously and tucked her hands around the rifle strap that crossed her shoulders.

"The pets are all gone. Have you noticed that? When's the last time you saw a dog? A cat? Even Daryl was complaining that he can't hardly find rabbits anymore. I think the only reason the squirrels are still around is that they stay up in the trees."

Glenn stared at her, his brow furrowed with worry.

"Are you okay?"

"I guess the walkers got them." She continued as if he hadn't interrupted. "All they care about is that it's alive, right? Doesn't matter what it is."

"Maggie."

"I saw a herd of them take down a cow once." She was looking up into the sky again. "Cows are pretty dumb but they're big and heavy, too. They've been known to hurt people before." The bark of her laughter was without even a semblance of humor. "People. That's pretty funny, isn't it? Calling them _people_."

His heart ached for her.

"Maggie."

"They didn't have a plan or anything. I mean, how could they, right? The walkers are just dumb animals, too, really. They just kept following that cow until they had it pinned up against the side of a fence. It didn't have anywhere to go and it wasn't smart enough to just plow through them. So it just stood there as they tore into it. Ate all the insides, the guts and the meat. It lived until Otis put a bullet through its head. He was a better shot than me. I was afraid if I missed, I'd hit one of them. Can you believe that?" That humourless laugh was back. "_I was afraid I'd hit one of them."_

"Maggie, please stop."

But she couldn't. The words she'd been saving up came pouring out and he could only stand there and let them land like barbs in his skin.

"Do you remember the first one you saw?" Her eyes were raw and red, shimmering behind the tears she refused to let fall. "I do. We'd been hearing all those stories . . . Unbelievable stories. We saw the news reports on TV but we didn't believe it. How could we believe it? Dead people not staying dead. Walking around, attacking people. Eating people . . . No, we didn't believe it. It had to be a hoax, you know, like that Orson Welles thing with the Martians?"

Glenn shook his head sadly and reached for her but she shied away from his touch as if he were one of the contaminated.

"We went into town . . . It was a Saturday. It was just a Saturday. We noticed a few empty cars on the road but it was Saturday morning. Daddy said the cops must have had a checkpoint up to catch drunk drivers or something and the cars hadn't been towed yet. We parked in front of the Tractor Supply and . . . and . . ."

Her throat worked convulsively as she struggled for control.

"Baby, please don't do this . . ."

"There was blood. In the parking lot. A lot of it. Daddy told me and B-Beth to stay in the truck. We still didn't think it was them, the walkers. How could we think that? How could we think that was really happening? That couldn't be happening, right?"

An errant tear finally escaped from the jewel-bright shine of her eyes. Maggie swiped it away angrily.

"Daddy was halfway to the door when Mr. Sutton came out. Only it wasn't Mr. Sutton. Not anymore. He was almost running, with his hands out like he was looking for help but he wasn't. He wasn't. And Daddy just stood there waiting for him. He didn't understand. The devil was running him down and he didn't understand. But Beth did."

Her chin rose as if she expected Glenn to argue with her. He didn't.

"Beth did. Beth knew what was happening. She knew it right away. She crawled over Daddy's seat and jumped out of that truck faster than anything I ever saw and she ran to Daddy and grabbed him and practically dragged him back. He was still staring at Mr. Sutton, like he couldn't believe what he was seeing."

When he reached for her again, Glenn didn't give her a chance to retreat but instead, wrapped her close against his thin frame. Their weapons clattered as the tips of the barrels bumped into each other.

"Maggie, I'm so sorry . . ."

She clung to him, the point of her chin digging into his shoulder, her arms so tight around him that if the moment had been less important than it was, he might have joked about needing space to breathe. Instead he said nothing and accepted the discomfort without showing the slightest hint of pain.

"I can't remember the last thing I said to her." The neck of his t-shirt was soaked with her tears. "I can't remember, Glenn. I've been trying to remember but I can't. I can't."

"Baby . . ."

"Did I tell her I loved her? Did I ever tell her that all those times I told her she was a pain in my ass that I didn't really mean it? Did I ever tell her I was proud of her?"

"Maggie, she knew that!" Glenn leaned back far enough to look into her face. "She knew all of that!"

"But did I tell her?" The heartbroken lines of her face brought tears to his own eyes. "Did I tell her?"

Glenn cupped her cheeks in his hands and peppered her with kisses.

"Yes, you did. I heard you. And more importantly, you showed her how you felt. Plenty of times."

"I'm the only one left. It's just me. I'm alone now."

The whisper was barely audible. Her head fell to his shoulder again as if it took more energy than she had to hold it up.

His arms flexed convulsively around her. "You have me."

"For now."

There was a melancholy despair to her words that rocked Glenn to his core. He pulled away and stared hard into her eyes.

"Maggie, you will always have me. I promise."

She gave him a bleak smile, kissed him sadly and resettled her weapon on her shoulder.

"We need to find that campsite."

When she walked away, he had no choice but to follow her.

.

.

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_Thanks to PrintDust for putting this fanfic exchange together. It was fun playing in _The Walking Dead _sandbox for a change. :-) _

_Thanks for reading!_


	14. For Metacognitive - BethCarol

**Untitled**

Beth took a deep breath as she looked around her. She hadn't yet had a moment to take everything in. Leaving the hospital had been so rushed, even though the exchange had gone fairly smoothly everyone wanted to get out quick in case Dawn and the officers changed their minds. Beth had barely had time to greet her sister before they all piled into the cars and the firetruck—which threw her for a loop. After driving for awhile, the group stopped to use the bathroom and figure out where they wanted to head next and she took the opportunity to note every single member of her family and friends that she just knew had survived. It felt like a lifetime since she had seen most of them. Before Carol was brought into the hospital, she only knew that Daryl had survived the prison attack and even then she wasn't sure if he had survived the Walkers in the funeral home, though she suspected as much. He would be the last man standing, after all. Thinking of Carol again, Beth sought the older woman out, finding her sitting at the back of the firetruck. Beth made her way over to sit next to her.

"Hey," she greeted as Carol looked over at her and smiled.

"Hey, yourself," she replied, looking alert but tired.

"Just wanted to see how you're doin'," she continued, "everything has been pretty crazy since you woke up".

Carol nodded in agreement, "it has. I'm feelin' alright. Still real groggy and sore but I'll live," she paused and took Beth's hand much like she did when they were in the hallway of Grady, "thanks to you."

Beth shrugged, "I didn't do much. I think you survivin' is all you. You're strong. Besides, you would have done the same for me right?"

"Of course," Carol nodded, giving Beth's hand a squeeze, "I'm so happy we found you and got you back. I admit, I thought Daryl was a little crazy at first when he took off after the car with the white cross, but I've learned to trust his instincts."

Beth smiled but it didn't reach her eyes, "Yeah, he was right about the people in this world. There's not really any good ones left. I think it's just us," she paused for a moment, "and I'm not really sure how good we are anymore."

"Beth," Carol caught the younger woman's eyes, "you are a good person. You are. And you're strong, too. No matter what you've had to do to survive, I know that you have only done what is necessary and that you would never harm anyone if it wasn't a matter of your life or theirs. Your dad would be so proud of you. I'm really sorry that we lost him."

Beth nodded, unshed tears in her eyes, "thank you. I guess all we can do is keep trying."

"Yes, and we'll help each other." The two moved at the same time to hug each other, sharing the relief of being together again with their group and the pain of those that were no longer with them.

"I think your sister wants to talk to you now," Carol said as they pulled away, nodding towards Maggie who was hovering nearby.

"Yeah, she's gonna be real clingy for awhile I can tell," Beth laughed, patting Carol's knee as she got up to head over to her sister. The older woman smiled at the two, though she felt a pain in her heart for another pair of sisters. She decided that she wouldn't dwell on that, though. Just as Beth said, and as Daryl had said before her, she would keep trying. That was all she could do.


	15. For DeadWomanWalking - Grimes Family

**Shoestrings and Rain **

The prison is asleep when he rises, absent of the sounds of voices that usually ring through the halls and the echoes and the slamming of doors. The large concrete building seems to sigh around him as it rests, waiting for the touch of sunlight on its barred panes that will mark the beginning of a new day. He grabs his hat, its rim worn soft with time, and places it on his head before he makes his way downstairs. Peering around the large common area for any signs of life, he finds none at all.

His father's cell is on the right, adjacent to one of the large windows and directly below his own. The curtain is drawn closed for privacy so he knows his dad is sleeping off a night of guard duty. Carl holds his breath as he eases the fabric back to peer inside the dark cell. He doesn't even wait for his eyes to adjust before he slips inside, barely taking a full step before his knees are touching the netted side of the crib that his baby sister sleeps in. He finds the toddler curled up around a soft-cloth doll, its yard-hair splayed across her cheeks where she has buried her face into one long, thick, brunette braid that has unravelled. Its green eyes stare up at him and he stares back for a long moment before he reaches in to divest the sleeping baby of her blanket.

She opens her eyes, crystal blue ones that are the mirror image of his own, and her brow pinches questioningly – almost suspiciously. He holds his index finger to his mouth to indicate for her to hush and her expression dissolves into a still sleepy smile. At almost two-years-old she knows that that means – she is in on a secret. Bending over, he slips his hands under her arms and retrieves her then settles her on his hip. She peers around confused before she points to their father on the lower bunk.

Carl indicates _no _with a simple shake of his head and passes her the doll to keep her occupied while he carefully picks out a purple and white chequered dress and a tiny pair of white, leather lace-up boots with bevelled stars on the toes. With a final glance at his sleeping father, he slips out and draws the curtain closed.

Carol tells him it is highly unusual for a child her age, but Judith loves to get dressed. Tiny hands fumbling, she insists on helping him to unbutton her onesie pyjamas. After helping her to use the potty he changes her pull-up and slips the dress over her head then turns her back to him so that he can do up the pearl buttons at the back. He allows her a moment to explore the pattern with her hands placed on her belly, but the sun is rising and he knows he doesn't have much time.

"Sit," he whispers, lifting her just a fraction of an inch of the ground to get her legs out from under her so that he can place her on her bottom.

"Choos," she points to the white lace-ups in his hands. "Choos feeze," she points to her toes that she has splayed.

Carl nods that she is right and quickly slips them over her heels. "Ready?" he asks, keeping his voice low.

She nods and pulls herself forward to get a closer look, her knees bending until she is sitting in a butterfly position, her diaper resting against his hands.

"Okay, but you have to keep your giggles in," he warns, showing her how to cover her mouth with her palm. "Hold them tight, okay?"

She nods and her eyes widen as he forms the first loop.

"Bunny ears, bunny ears, playing by a tree…" he forms the first loop and glances up to see her barely containing her glee. "Criss-crossed the tree, trying to catch me…" he pulled the bow across.

_The ends of soft brown hair tickles his hands and he imagines that it is like a butterfly painting a picture with its wings. When she forms the words her mouth lifts into a smile as she guides his fingers through the steps: twist this, pull here… He knows kindergarten will start soon, she keeps glancing at the watch on her wrist and at the other children walking past the house, but she doesn't make him feel like he has to hurry. "That's right," she whispers, "so beautiful and bold…" she finishes, releasing his hands to turn his chin up to press a kiss to his cheek. _

"Bubba," Judith adds, pointing to the top of her head, reminding him that they need to hurry.

He smiles. "That's right, bunny ears, bunny ears, jumped into the hole, popped out on the other side so beautiful and bold." She giggles and claps, loudly enough that he has to take a quick glance around to make sure she hasn't woken anyone.

"Shh," he reminds her finishing the second shoe more quickly.

"Shh," she copies. "I wuiet."

He gets to his feet before lifting her to his hip again. "You are quiet," he assures her. They move quickly to the other block that is connected to theirs by a thick iron security door. The row of cells is identical to their own and he counts them until he arrives at one with a pink sheet covering the door. He knows the two girls inside are asleep, they're always last up in the morning, so he doesn't hesitate to step inside, his eyes already fixed on his prize. The yellow flowers are stuffed inside a mason jar exactly where he expects them to be, on the overturned milk crate next to Lizzie's bed. He leaves the jar but takes the flowers.

Outside it is still a little bit chilly in the early morning and it is sprinkling lightly. The grass is wet under his feet as he steps through the gate and off the concrete. It is just a few feet to their destination and Judith has already begun drumming her feet against his thigh in anticipation.

"Mama," she says, squirming.

He slides her down his leg to place her on the ground, muttering, "Okay, okay, you can go down," even as she is already toddling towards the cross marking the ground.

He follows her, chancing a glance towards the guard tower where he knows Daryl is watching.

"Judith," he calls her name softly and she stops her forward momentum, wavering on her feet as she turns to look at him over her shoulder. "Judith, here," he holds out the flowers to her as he catches up and helps her to wrap her hands around them. "Gentle, they could break."

"Bake," she agrees and he takes her free hand to walk her over to the last cross. "Mama?" the baby asks, pointing to grave maker.

He nods, stropping before the worn pieces of wood, tied crookedly together by a thin leather cord. The sun has begun to lift over the trees, muted beams of light that are softened by the misty rain that has dampened his shoulders and brown locks of her hair. _Another day_, he thinks – that marks more distance between them that has turned to wisps as fine as spider webs. He doesn't cry, but the knot in his throat aches viciously as he tries to swallow it back.

"Here you go," he takes Judith's wrist and helps her to lay the flowers down. "Right there, just like that," he coaches, steadying her as she crouches down.

"Can you say Happy Birthday?" he asks, wiping a rain from her cheeks and off her brown.

The little girl looks confused for a moment and tries the word silently with her lips first.

"Happy Birthday, Mama," Carl demonstrates again, reaching out to touch the cross.

"Burdy, mama," she finally announces, looking up at him, her hands closing around her neck. "Up," she requests and he obliges, standing with her held closely to his chest.

With one last glance at the cross and then a shared nod with Daryl who has stepped out onto the balcony of the guard tower, he approaches the prison. The others have begun to trickle outside to the covered picnic area where Carol and her team will begin to prepare breakfast soon. The doors are already propped open to allow airflow through the hallways and Judith has begun her morning greetings as she waves at those passing them by.

"Burdy bubby," she tells their dad when they find him awake and bleary-eyed, pouring coffee in the common room. She reaches for him and Carl passes the baby off, transferring her from his own hip to their father's.

"Is that so?" he asks the toddler, taking a sip from his coffee, then slides a questioning glance towards Carl who shrugs. "Well, okay then," he heads for the door. "Breakfast?"

Carl nods and follows, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"It's, uh, March eighteenth," his dad finally says when they've reached the outdoor dining room.

"I know," Carl takes a seat at the table and watches as Judith is settled into her wooden highchair and handed a spoon.

His dad nods and meets his eyes and they share a moment of understanding. Today hurts, they agree silently, but they'll get through it. "Okay, then," the man's hand lands on both of his children's heads as he rounds the table to collect their breakfast.

"Bubby," Judith points to her shoe where one of the laces has come undone.

Smiling, Carl catches her foot. "Just one more time today," he tells her sternly, collecting her laces. "Bunny ears, bunny ears, playing by a tree…"


End file.

Walking Dead