"Guys, check out what I found!"

Sophia was proudly making the rounds with an old guitar she'd found in the attic.

"That's nice, honey." Carol told her daughter. "But I'm pretty sure it'll be out of tune."

"No." Sophia strummed the guitar. "It's still sounding okay, actually."

She seemed to not notice the half a dozen people flinching at the assault of their ears, it definitely did not sound 'okay'. But they smiled at Sophia anyway.

"Does anyone know how to play?" She asked.

Receiving negative replies from all over the room she scowled before her face lit up with hope. "Maybe Daryl does!"

The redneck had excused himself to repair their damaged weapons, and had consequently become Sophia's last resort.

"Oh, honey, I don't think-" Carol started.

Some of the group snickered. The chance of the hunter having even the least of musical talent, let alone the patience to teach Sophia was about as high as the chance that all the Walkers would miraculously be cured over night.

"I'll ask him." Sophia's choice had been made and she stalked off to find the younger Dixon-brother.

Carol shifted in her seat, as if comtemplating following her.

"She'll be fine." Rick had noticed her unease. "Daryl might not seem like it, but he's a good man."

"I know he is." Carol smiled. "I'm more worried about Daryl's hearing."

A moment it was silent before a chuckle spread through the room as everyone imagined Daryl squirming on the floor covering his ears while Sophia played, and for a second they forgot that it was the damn Zombie apocalypse and they were all of them pretty much dead already.

The hunter was immersed in repairing the crossbow, so the soft knock on the door had him barely lifting his head and demanding "What?".

A little face peeked through the door. "Mr. Daryl? Can I come in?"

"Hmpf." He made a sound of neither denying entry nor granting it. The girl remained in the doorframe, looking at him expectantly.

"Well, get in here, then." He said after a while. Daryl didn't care much about the kid's company, but he wasn't gonna slam the door in her face either.

Sophia slid into the room, and to Daryl's surprise, dragged the guitar in with her. After closing the door she asked "Do you know how to play, Mr. Daryl?"

Daryl only glanced at the guitar before focusing back on the damaged crossbow. "No." He simply said.

The girl let out a sigh of disappointment and plopped down on the bed opposite of his, the guitar on her lap.

As it became pretty apparent that she wasn't gonna leave anytime soon, Daryl just resumed his work.

For a while they simply sat in awkward silence, the hunter ignoring the girl whose feet were dangling off the bed as she lazily traced a pattern on the guitar with her fingertips.

"You know-" Sophia suddenly broke the silence, "before all this I had a couple lessons."

Daryl made no sign to indicate he'd heard her.

"I don't remember much, though." She adjusted the guitar on her lap and picked the upmost string. Daryl's eyes narrowed.

"This is E." Sophia declared. Picking the second one, equally off tune, she said "That's A." She continued to pick and name each string, then went on to chords. Daryl did his best to stay focused on the task at hand, but he wasn't used to company, much less company this young, disturbing him in his work.

"I think this is a G-chord." Sophia had just told him, and a particularly bad sounding tune rang through the air.

Taking one quick look at the girl's finger placement on the guitar's neck he mumbled "That's a C, girl."

Sophia had noticed what he'd so recklessly let slip before he had even had the time to process the consequences of his words. A wide grin spread across her face.

"So you do play!" She jumped up from the bed and before Daryl noticed, the crossbow in his hands had been replaced by the guitar. "Can you teach me?"

"No, kid, I-" He tried to push the guitar away.

"Pleeeeeeeeeeeeease?" Sophia looked at him wide-eyed.

Daryl threw her a look and sighed. His fondness of guitar-playing had been one of his well-kept secrets, he didn't want anyone to associate him with something as weak as soft guitar music. He'd first picked up a guitar at 9 years old, after a particularly bad fight with Merle. Daryl had found it was a good way to vent anger and calm down, and he'd looked for someone to teach him. It was his form of rebellion, really, against Merle, against the way he'd been brought up. But it has been a couple years since he's played, and suddenly he's nervous.

The guitar was back on his lap, the girl's puppy-dog-eyes in full force.

Inhaling deeply, he plucked up courage and nodded. "Fine, give it here."

The kid practically burst from excitement and settled in next to him, watching his every move.

Daryl startled at the invasion of his space bubble, before brushing it off.

"First, ya gotta tune it, damn thing sounds like a dyin' cat."

Sophia giggled, and looked on in awe as Daryl picked one string after another, adjusting the knobs until they sounded right. When he was done, he strummed them all together.

"There. That's how it's s'possed ta sound."

"Can you play a song, Mr. Daryl?" Sophia asked.

"A couple." He shrugged.

"Play one!" She demanded happily.

'See?' His inner voice told him. 'That's what ya get for shootin' your mouth off like that.'

Taking in the smile on the girl's face once more he gave in. 'Already got this far, might as well.'

He started playing, hesitant at first, but the more he played the more he remembered, and soon he was the little boy with the guitar again, sitting in his hiding place in the attic and playing to himself until he heard Merle's voice, shouting his name.

A different voice, smaller, higher than Merle's, pulled him out of his flashback. It was Sophia, silently singing along. He hadn't realized how long he'd played until Sophia stopped singing and he too ran out of notes to play.

He cleared his throat, suddenly embarrassed.

"That was beautiful!" Sophia beamed. "Will you teach me how to play it?"

"I…Fine." He found himself saying, because screw Merle, screw having to be tough 24/7, and damnit he was glad to have someone to share his music with. "We can meet later, I gotta get that damn crossbow fixed first. But don't you tell nobody, ain't no one gotta know 'bout me playin' the guitar like some old Country dude. 'S gotta be our secret, ya got that?"

As an answer he was nearly crushed by the girl's arms around him. "Thank you so much, Mr. Daryl. I promise, I won't tell anyone."

"Yeah, yeah." He muttered, trying to free himself from the kid's embrace. "And my name's Daryl. Ain't no 'Mr.' there."

The girl gave him a big smile. "See ya, Daryl!"

She skipped out of the door, guitar in hand.

'You're a damn wuss, Darleena.' Merle's voice mocked him in his head. But for the first time, Daryl didn't care.

"So? How'd it go?" Lori asked Sophia when she walked into the kitchen.

Sophia pouted. "Daryl can't play either."

"Well, don't be sad." Lori smiled at her. "You'll figure it out by yourself."

The girl nodded, and left to look for her mom.

Nobody said anything, but when they saw Sophia happily playing little melodies on the now perfectly tuned guitar, they all knew. And every one of them looked at Daryl a little differently.