Hey y'all! This is the sequel to my story: The Problem Here, which can be found on my page. Kate and Daryl still have so far to go on their journey, I hope you will take it with them! Happy reading, please review; it inspires me! Xoxo- MK.

Chapter One

Call of the Mourning Dove

Let me be still, let me rest
in some hollow of space and time
far from the seasons and that boring,
ponderous drama of day and night.
Let me sleep in the heart of calm
and dream placidly of birds frozen
in the unmoving air of eternity
and the earth grown immobile
in its centrifugal spin, and God
motionless as Lazarus in his tomb
before he is raised dizzily
to fall again, to rise, to fall.

- "Motion Sickness" by BH Fairchild

IIIII IIIII

Kate pulled off her boots with a hiss before leaning forward to set them next to the pitiful fire burning in front of her. Besides the crackling, Kate could hear both Daryl and Beth moving around on the other side of the flames. It was dark, though the sun had not completely set yet. They'd been walking for two days—or maybe it was three, Kate wasn't quite sure anymore. The evidence of their trek appeared in white blisters on the back of her heels after she'd peeled her socks off. Their wandering was noticeable in the dirt caked beneath her fingers, and the tragic state of her braid; which was dry and knotted, with bits of leaves and twigs, from sleeping on the ground, tangled in the strands.

The cold breeze made her scoot closer to the flames, attempting to warm her toes. It was quiet for a long time as dusk fell away, leaving everything outside the glow of their fire shrouded in inky blackness. She heard shuffling coming from where she knew Beth and Daryl were on the other side of the flames. It was hard to make out either form in the shadows, but she could feel both presences like physical objects. She didn't move when Daryl's boots came into her line of sight from where she sat, huddled in on herself. She threw her hood back and raised an eyebrow at him, curling her upper lip slightly in warning. He was holding a large stick of pine needles, which were burning steadily with yellow-orange light.

"C'mon, let's go." He offered his hand—not occupied by torch—to her, but she just stared at it. "Git up," he growled after a few moments.

"Where are we going?" she asked in a flat voice.

"Gotta take care of yer cut, you haven't washed it today."

She scrambled up without replying and made a grab for his torch, but he dodged her grasp.

"No, I'm comin' with ya," Daryl asserted.

She crossed her arms, the muscle in her jaw twitching as she refrained from rolling her eyes. "I'm going alone."

"Like hell ya' are. C'mon," he demanded, reaching out to grab her bicep.

"Don't touch me," she spat, voice tight and cold.

Daryl's hand retracted, quicker than lightening. His gaze went from annoyed to smooth as stone in a split second.

Kate's stomach dropped as she realized she had crossed a line. Daryl and she had been at each other's throats since the second day after the prison fell. The grief that she had been feeling made her irritable and emotional, and Daryl was just as volatile. In order to survive, Kate had pushed her grief so far down that she'd practically forgot that she was in mourning for everything that had been lost. The wound in her heart was tender and festering, with no time to stop and process. Being out in the wilderness, without shelter had kept them all on edge.

They were starving, they were freezing, and they were exhausted.

They were vulnerable.

And it made Kate crazy. She had barely slept the past few days; especially because she hadn't had Daryl by her side since the first terrifying night in the woods. He hadn't slept a moment since then, and it showed in the weight of his shoulders and his several unsuccessful evening hunts.

Kate knew that his continued empty-handed hunts were driving him just as insane. He'd grown more combative each day, quiet unless he was snapping at her or Beth for one thing or another. Kate wondered idly how much longer they would last like this as she stared into Daryl's icy blue gaze.

"Kate, he's just tryin'a help," Beth coaxed quietly, coming up to Kate's shoulder and making her flinch.

She hadn't noticed Beth approaching and she berated herself for not being more vigilant. "Mind your own business," she snapped.

Beth's big eyes grew even wider and the hand that had been moving towards Kate's shoulder withdrew quickly. Her small fingers curling together as she dropped her arm to her side.

"Fuckin' forget it, go yerself." Daryl thrust the burning branch at her and walked away, shaking his head like a dog dispelling water from its ears.

Kate tracked him until he disappeared into the shadows on the other side of the fire. She could feel Beth watching her, see her ghostly silhouette out of the corner of her eye. She made sure not to acknowledge her as she slipped through the trees and towards the little stream a few yards away. She worked quickly to clean the cut on her face, placing the torch in the dirt. The light made it hard to see, but she used the fingers of one hand to trace the torn flesh, while her other hand trailed behind holding a piece of cloth with the cool creek water on it.

After she was sure that it was relatively clean she rinsed out the cloth and made her way back towards camp. Their spot was set up at the bottom of a small slope, and from her vantage point she could see Beth already bundled in a holey tartan blanket they'd found in a random pack. She saw the white gleam of Daryl's eyes, the flames a flickering reflection on his shadowed face. He tracked her across the campsite as she unrolled the other blanket and wrapped herself up in it.

Half of her wanted to say something to him, but the other half was still too furious and hurt at no one and everyone. Instead, she drifted off into a fitful half-sleep until sunrise.

As soon as light broke through the trees Kate was awake and rolling up her pack. Daryl was in the same position he'd been in from the night before with his knees resting in the crooks of his elbows, knife held in his hands, blade pointing down; his loaded crossbow rested next to his hip. He was still watching her, though she couldn't tell if he was even registering the movement. The blues of his eyes were cloudy. When she moved out of his line of sight his eyes finally snapped into focus and she heard him get up as she packed her blanket way in their pack. She stood, slinging the pack onto her shoulder.

Turning she saw Daryl toeing Beth gently in the side. "Git up," he ordered.

The blonde girl yawned and stretched before quickly obeying and tucking her blanket into her bag full of sparse other supplies they'd managed to scavenge. Daryl walked past Kate, snagging the strap of her pack and pulling it down her arm before she knew what was happening. Without looking back at Kate, who was standing with her mouth hanging open, halfway between furious and grateful, he continued into the trees. Kate waited for Beth to scurry past her before taking up the back of their little group, glaring unjust daggers into Daryl's back.

This continued for what must've been hours. They'd stopped only once when they'd come across another stream, in order to fill their water bottles. Since then, it had grown steadily darker, though it was impossible to tell where the sun was, for it was grey and overcast.

"Not far."

She could hear Daryl muttering from where he walked about a yard in front of her. Beth turned to look at Kate over her shoulder, raising an eyebrow; she'd heard him too.

It turned out Daryl was right. If Kate had to guess, it was not an hour later that the trees began to thin, and then broke completely. In their place was a flat clearing, in the middle of which sat a shack crawling with kudzu, and in any other instance would've looked unimpressive. Instead, it seemed like a palace. Kate walked forwards, passing where Daryl had stopped to admire the view. When she looked over at him, she was smiling, unshed tears glittering in her eyes.

Daryl met her gaze steadily, though he didn't smile back, she knew that he understood her. His eyes softened and he shrugged his shoulders just the smallest fraction. Beth ran towards the little house before turning back and grinning blindingly at Daryl. "You were leading us here the whole time," she stated in awe.

He nodded, chewing on his cuticle.

"You had a plan all along," Kate whispered from next to him.

He turned and looked at her as she watched Beth dart up the stairs on the rickety porch and try the door. It opened easily. Beth pulled out her knife before entering the house. When she disappeared past the window inside, Kate turned to Daryl.

"How'd you know this was here?" she asked.

Daryl flinched slightly. "Michonne. We came across it when we were looking…" His eyes hardened as he trailed off and he breathed harshly.

Kate took a step closer to him and put a hand on his bicep. His muscle twitched but he didn't move away. She took that as a good sign and sidled closer to him, resting her side against his, letting her arms wrap around his one. He leaned back into her slightly and she nuzzled her nose into the side of his chest. "We're gonna be okay."

She felt Daryl's lips on the crown of her head. The feeling of him next to her was a welcome one, after days of strain between them, it was good to know that it had just been the stress of their journey and there was really no tension in their relationship. Contact with him made all the exhaustion of the past few days begin to seep away.

Beth appeared back on the porch smiling triumphantly. "All clear!" she called across the yard to them.

A few minutes later Kate was exploring the little shack with Daryl and Beth. It was a mess, and smelled faintly of mildew and death, but honestly everything did now. There was a single bedroom and a bathroom in the back of the house, with a kitchen and living room area at the front. There was only one door, which made her slightly anxious, but the window in the back room was big enough to escape out of if need be.

She could hear Beth and Daryl moving around in the front room as she went about digging through the sheets and blankets in the hallway closet. The floor boards creaked, announcing someone's presence. Half the blankets she had piled in her arms—blocking her eyesight—disappeared. In their place was Daryl's face, one eyebrow slightly raised in question.

"What're ya' doin'?"

"You'll see." She turned and walked down the hallway towards the bedroom.

Daryl followed after her curiously with his load.

"Put those over there." She gestured with her head towards the rocking chair in the corner. Then, she went about stripping the bed of the dusty and soiled sheets. Once the mattress was exposed she turned to Daryl, who was standing in the doorway, watching her. "Hand me that thick blanket on the bottom, please," she requested.

He tossed her the one she wanted and she unfolded it, placing it on the bed.

"Okay, now that scratchy wool one."

They repeated the same routine until there was about seven layers of blankets.

"Cozy," Daryl commented as Kate was tucking the two pillows into new pillowcases.

She turned around to see Daryl with his feet on the ground but laid back in the center of the bed. "Get off there! The sheets are clean." She smacked him lightly with a pillow.

"Damn! Sorry, ya' know these are the only clothes I got. Gonna get the sheets dirty tonight anyways, ya' not that much cleaner yerself." He got up though, despite his grouching.

Kate's answer was to walk over to the wardrobe in the corner of the room and throw the doors open. Half of it was full of menswear, while the other had a few garishly colored floral dresses.

"Happy shopping, you can go first," she said, skimming her hands over the fabrics. She pulled out a maroon long sleeved shirt. It was thick and soft. She appraised it before turning to Daryl. "You should wear this one," she suggested quietly as he tossed his vest on the back of the rocking chair.

He flicked his gaze over the shirt before pulling his own over his head, the blue stained practically black. He bundled it up and threw it in the corner, his white undershirt was similarly stained yellow around the collar and underarms, and dirt was smeared across the front.

"Off with that too." Kate motioned as she kneeled down to open the drawer in the bottom of the wardrobe. She pretended like she didn't notice Daryl walking over to close and lock the door before taking off his tee. After she stood, she gathered the white undershirt in one hand and the thick, deep red shirt in the other. She crossed over to Daryl, throwing the clothes on the bed, without taking her eyes off him.

When her hands were free she lifted them to gently rest on his pectorals, careful not to press her dirty clothes against the fairly clean skin of his chest and stomach. She looked up into his eyes, head tilted slightly so that she could see him properly. Her hands slid up and around his shoulders, circling his neck. Her fingers curled into the long hairs at the nape of his neck. His hands found their way to her waist and settled over either of her hips.

"Thank you," she breathed before rising up onto her tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips. It was sweet and soft, and lasted only a moment. She dropped back down to her normal height.

Daryl brushed a piece of hair, which had fallen out of her braid and into her face, back into place. "AIn't nothin'," he mumbled, avoiding her gaze.

She tilted his head towards her with a finger on his chin. "Thank you," she repeated again, looking him directly in the eyes. Her own had begun stinging slightly as the relief and grief began to surface.

Daryl pulled her forwards, bringing their chests flush together. She buried her face into his bare skin, breathing hotly onto his sternum. His hands traced patterns on her back as she let a few tears slip out. After a moment she sniffed and pulled away. He let her go and turned to put on his shirt. The scars on his back caught the low, blue light of dusk that filtered through the window. It was the first real look she'd gotten of them, and the dark purple of his flesh where it had been ripped apart made her stomach turn in empathy.

She reached up without thinking and touched the tender skin of her face, which she still had yet to see an image of. All she had was her imagination, and how horrid it made her appearance. Not that Daryl's scars were ugly, but the reminder they gave her of the very obvious marring of her features was not a kind one. When Daryl turned back around after pulling on his new t-shirt, it was to catch her in the middle of tracing the deep cut that ran from her hairline, over her right eye, down to just above her lip.

He stepped towards her and pulled her hand away. "Ya' look fine, it's healin' up real nice, ya' probably ain't even gonna scar." He turned around again, unconcerned, and pulled on the maroon shirt.

Kate swallowed thickly before turning back to the dresser and pulling out a pair of thick brown leggings, obviously homemade, but sturdy. She hummed in appreciation as she excitedly kicked her boots off before peeling the black leggings she was wearing down. She slipped quickly into the new leggings, attempting to escape the chill of the winter. She pulled on a pair of thick socks that she managed to dig up. She looked through the woman's side but couldn't find any clothes that she liked. They were all dresses, and while they weren't exactly functional she wouldn't have been opposed. Except they were all floral and bright, and hung down around the calves.

She heard Daryl wander over as she shrugged off her jacket. Before she could, he grabbed all three of her layers in his hands and tugged them over her head in one motion, leaving her in her leggings and bra. His rough hands snaked around her waist, and she felt the soft fabric of his shirt against her bare back. She ignored him, even as he began kissing the junction of her shoulder and neck. The man's side of the small closet didn't offer much of a better selection but she found a light green, long-sleeved Henley and a green plaid flannel shirt. She turned around in the circle of Daryl's arms after making her selection, thinking he would break away, but instead he moved his mouth from her shoulder to her lips.

He took a step forward, crowding her against the side of the wardrobe. She melted into the kiss without much thought, warm and safe in Daryl's embrace. They kissed idly, slow and luxuriously, for god knew how long. They were only interrupted when a timid knock sounded on the door.

"Kate? Daryl?" Beth's voice drifted through the wood.

Daryl sighed and rested his forehead on Kate's shoulder. She ran her fingers through his hair soothingly.

"Yes, Beth?"

"Y'all aren't the only ones that wanna get out of these disgusting clothes."

A few moments later Kate had slipped into the evergreen colored Henley, Daryl tossed her the flannel from where she'd dropped it onto the floor. She shrugged it on, not bothering to button it up before opening the door and giving Beth a sheepish smile.

Beth's replying smile didn't really reach her eyes but it was genuine. Daryl slipped past the two women and disappeared down the hall. Kate grabbed Beth's hand in her own and squeezed. "Take your time," she said to the young woman before switching spots with her and waiting for the door to close. She walked past the bathroom and noticed the door was open; Beth must've been poking around in there. She caught movement out of the corner of her eye, and realized that her reflection was visible in the mirror from where she was standing in the hall. She dropped her eyes and quickly closed the door. The slam echoed in the tiny space and she flinched.

Walking out into the living room and kitchen combo, she couldn't find Daryl. He was out on the porch, she discovered, leaning against one of the posts near the stairs. Kate sat down opposite him, buttoning the flannel, which, due to its overly large size on her, buttoned over her chest, keeping the cold at bay. She pulled the sleeves of the Henley underneath to cover her hands.

"Come to bed," she requested, finally breaking the silence.

"Gotta keep watch," Daryl responded, looking out into the dark tree line. Beth had found a gas lamp and it was burning steadily in the window, casting an orange glow on the porch and about a yard beyond, but they couldn't even see where the trees began, the forest was concealed in darkness.

"You can't see anything," Kate pointed out. "You haven't slept in days Daryl, you're exhausted. Come to bed," she repeated, standing up and walking over so that she could run a hand through his hair. He leaned into her touch and she dropped her hand to his shoulder. He reached up and covered it with his own and squeezed gently before standing and following Kate inside.

Beth was already under the covers, fast asleep, practically on the edge of the mattress, curled into a ball. Daryl placed the gas lamp, which he'd carried in with them, on the dresser before moving the furniture in front of the door. Kate turned down the bed before crawling in between a few of the layers, leaving some under her for added warmth.

Daryl turned the gas down to its lowest setting, so it just barely glowed around the door. It felt strange not to have someone on watch but as Daryl pulled the sheets up over them both and settled down, Kate sighed contently. She immediately could feel his warmth and it melted her tense body quick as anything. Daryl swept his arm up in an arch and Kate grinned happily at the invitation, crawling towards him and throwing a leg over his waist, resting her chest against his ribcage and her head in the joint of his shoulder. Her arm slid around his chest as his own curled over her waist, lacing their fingers together where her own arm was trapped between their bodies. She sighed contently and was asleep before she realized.

IIIII IIIII

In the morning, she is vaguely aware of Daryl leaving the bed, brushing a gentle kiss to her forehead. She didn't know how long he'd been gone for, only that when he came back to bed the sun had broken over the horizon, casting a blue glow into the room, since the sun still could not break from the thick grey clouds that covered the sky. The mattress dipped on both sides of her as Beth got out of bed and Daryl climbed in again. She snuggled back against Daryl, reluctant to let go of sleep, and kissed the side of his neck. His skin was freezing and the shock made her open her eyes.

He was awake and looking up at the ceiling so she moved over him, framing his head with her arms, laying across his chest. She tilted her head before leaning down to brush a kiss against his lips. He glanced at her then and cracked a small smile, bringing his arms up around her waist. Cocooned in the blanket nest he was warming up quickly. Kate's own face and ears were pretty chilly, since there was no source of warmth except their trapped body heat.

"Go back ta sleep, Beth's on watch," Daryl said, squeezing her hips gently.

"Only if you sleep too," Kate bartered, tracing a finger over the side of his face, underneath the hollow of his eye.

His eyes fluttered closed at her touch and he sighed.

She smiled and watched him for a few moments more, feeling his breath even out beneath her, though his grip on her did not slacken. After a few more moments she slid down his body so that she could rest her head against his chest. In one ear she could hear his strong, calm heartbeat, with the other she could hear Beth's soft singing as she sat on the porch.

She didn't know if as she fell asleep the sound of Beth's voice faded, or if Beth had gone steadily farther away until she just couldn't hear it anymore. The only fact she was aware of was that when she woke up, it was to screaming. Disoriented, she awakened on her back, where Daryl had tossed her in his haste to pull his boots on. She scrambled out of the bed, throwing the blankets haphazardly as they were tangled around her. Daryl had already disappeared out the door as she ran after him, pulling her second boot on as she ran down the hallway, her heart pounding in her ears.

The sight that awaited her outside was one out of her deepest nightmares. She clutched the post of the porch stairs in order to stay upright as she felt her stomach drop and her legs give out. There was a sparkling dust of frost on the ground, turning the brown a reflective, iridescent color. A few yards away the earth was splattered with bright red blood, standing out eerily against the grey of the day. Beth was surrounded by three walkers, just outside the tree line.

There were two dead at her feet already, but as Kate had come outside one grabbed her ponytail, yanking her head back with startling strength. Blood burst around the wound. Daryl was there a moment too late, yanking the walker off the blonde and stabbing it through the eye. Kate was paralyzed as she watched him turn and take out the two others with animalistic hunter's instincts. Beth stood on unsteady feet, paler than ever before. Her arms were weakly raised towards the house…towards Kate.

Daryl managed to spin around and catch her before she fell. He scooped her up bridle style and made his way, stumbling, towards Kate. She met him halfway, her legs like jelly. They fell to their knees at the same time, Kate grabbing one of Beth's hands and pushing her hair back away from her face.

"Kate," she gasped, her eyes glassy and unfocused.

"Shh, shh, I'm here, it's all right," Kate's voice was thick as she attempted to hold back the tears and panic pushing their way out. Her hand that was smoothing Beth's bloodied hair was shaking.

"Went—to get…eggs," Beth moaned. "I was—going to make, breakfast," she sighed, eyes fluttering closed.

"No, no, Beth, sweetie, wake up." Kate shook her hand gently, even though the grasp was clammy and Beth's grip was weak.

"It's okay," Beth breathed, quiet and shallow. "I'm gonna see…Daddy—Maggie." Beth smiled, small and tragic, before she took a shuddering breath and departed.

Kate collapsed over Beth's midsection, leaning her head against Daryl's stomach where he was supporting Beth's limp body between them. She clutched the fabric of the floral dress Beth was wearing as she sobbed over her friend's body. She didn't know how long she cried before Daryl's voice broke through to her.

"Kate, we gotta move. We've gotta—we gotta bury her." His own voice was thick, betraying the emotionless way he was talking to Kate.

She sat up, sniffling and wiped her face with the sleeve of her shirt. Daryl transferred Beth's body into Kate's arms as he went to stand. She sat cross-legged on the ground, pulling Beth into her lap and holding her like a small child, uncaring the blood from her neck was seeping into her flannel. Daryl went over to the shed, breaking the lock with one angry, solid kick to the door frame. Kate flinched at the rage behind the movement.

He came back with two shovels and threw them at Kate's feet before storming past her and disappearing into the house. Kate unsheathed her knife, pushing the blade into Beth's temple, with familiar ease, tossing her knife down on the ground next to her with a sob when it was over.

Three friends she'd technically killed now.

She watched the tree line without really registering anything, until Daryl came back, carrying a thin pink blanket, stitched with white daisies along the bottom. He laid it out on the ground next to Kate before leaning down and offering his arms. Kate gently tipped Beth's body into his embrace. He lay her in the center of the blanket before tucking the ends over her, as if swaddling a baby. His movements slow and gentle.

Kate stood up, her legs feeling stronger but she took a few stumbling steps away and found herself dry-heaving, doubled over. Her empty stomach churned as she spit white froth into the ground, the smell of dew and metallic blood swimming in her nose. She felt Daryl's hand on her back and after a moment she was able to collect herself and stand up straight. Without a word, Daryl handed her a shovel and led her over to the side of the house, where dead bushes were all that remained of a small garden.

They dug silently for most of the day, they didn't have any more undead intruders to disturb them. By the time it was done, Kate had taken off her stained flannel and rolled the sleeves up on her Henley. Daryl was in his undershirt, both of them were covered in a dusting of dirt. After a while, the grave was apparently deep enough for his liking because he threw his shovel and pulled himself out of the hole. Kate attempted to scramble out after him but her hunger and exhaustion caught up with her and the strain on her biceps was too much. Before she collapsed back into the earth, Daryl reached down, caging his hand around her upper arm and pulled her out. Her boots scrambled for purchase on the uneven dirt, and she gasped slightly as she felt the bruising pressure of his fingers.

When she was on the topsoil again, on her hands and knees, panting, Daryl walked away without a word. He came back with the body, of which only her long, blonde ponytail was visible. He placed it in the grave, while Kate sat on the edge, her chin on her knees and her arms wrapped around her shins. It didn't take half as long to fill the hole in, but with each sound of dirt hitting the hollow ground, she felt more exhausted than she had the rest of the day. By the time it was done, and Daryl was patting the top of the grave with the shovel to flatten it out, the sky had turned dark and ominous. The wind had picked up, and it was howling around them, though Kate took no notice of the way her fingers were turning red and dry with the cold.

Daryl threw his shovel before yanking her flannel off the porch balcony where she'd thrown it, along with his shirt, earlier. He pulled his maroon top over his head before coming over and placing her flannel on her shoulders. She obligingly stuck her arms through the holes, and, with gentle urging from Daryl, made her way inside. She knew that it was cold outside, and inside the little rickety shack, but all she could feel was the aching vacancy inside her.

They reached the backroom without conversation, taking off their boots near the bed before Daryl slipped in, lifting up the sheets in invitation. Kate stared at the spot on the other side of the bed, where Beth had slept peacefully just last night, curled against Kate's back for warmth. Kate shook her head.

"I—can't," her voice was rough from crying and misuse. She swallowed thickly. "I'll get the sheets dirty."

"Get the fuck in bed, Kate," Daryl demanded, his own voice raspy. He motioned again and she reluctantly crawled into the space he made for her, his back facing the side of the bed where Beth had slept.

"We can't—" she started, peeking over his shoulder as she pressed herself into his chest.

His arms circled her and she felt his breath on top of her head, where she'd tucked it against his neck. "I know," he whispered.

"What are we gonna do?" Kate's voice was strained as she held back the hysterical tears.

"I ain't gonna let anythin' happen to ya'." He stroked a hand over her knotted braid, down her back, squeezing her tightly.

She wedged a knee between his legs, scooting as close to him as she could get, twisting her hands in the fabric of his shirt. She admitted to herself that in his presence, like this, she did feel acutely safe, but she knew, realistically, not even Daryl Dixon could protect her from the evils outside their door.

"Everyone's gone." Her voice was sad.

"I'm still here, yer still here. Not everyone."

"Not everyone," Kate repeated before closing her eyes. "I love you," she whispered, kissing the junction of his throat, tasting the grit of dirt and tang of sweat on her lips.

"Go to sleep, I gotcha."

"Are you gonna sleep?" She shifted so that she could pull back slightly and look at him.

He was avoiding her gaze, looking across the top of her head into the darkness of the room.

"Hey," she said, wiggling one arm out from in between them so that she could rest her hand against his cheek.

His frost-blue eyes found her dark, multi-colored ones.

She smiled weakly at him. "It wasn't your fault, you know that right?"

"I coulda—"

"No, Daryl Dixon," she said firmly. "You listen to me. This wasn't your fault. It was an accident. We have barely seen a single walker this whole time. How could anyone have known that five were lurking around this morning?"

"I shoulda checked before I came back in," Daryl countered, his eyes hard and his jaw set, the muscle in it twitching slightly.

Kate could feel his body tensing. Her hand changed positions so that it could card through his hair. She moved herself farther up in the bed, turning and resting her head on the pillow, laying on her back. She used the hand stroking his head to pull him to her. He, reluctantly at first, move towards her before finally giving in and resting his head against her breast. She wrapped her arm around his ribcage and kissed the top of his greasy, matted hair. He sighed deeply before turning his head and nuzzling it deeper into her chest, putting an arm around her stomach and holding her tightly. His leg tangled with hers and she smiled softly at the sight of him curled around her like a child seeking comfort.

If she felt the hot, dampness of a few tears in the curve of her chest, she said nothing, just kept stroking her hands over his head. Waiting until his grip slackened slightly and his shuddering breaths evened out to the deep inhale and exhale that signaled sleep. Everything was quiet except the occasional creak of the house, and the cooing of a mourning dove. After a while, rain began to patter on the rooftop, finally lulling her into sleep.