He had told Carol that Rick was a man of honor, but after hearing his tirade about Shane and then telling people to get in line or leave, Daryl wasn't so sure anymore. He was sitting on top of the brick wall, peering into the darkness beyond, trying to keep his senses alert for walkers. T-Dog was on the other wall, so he let his mind wander to the concerns at hand. Everyone in the group was on guard due to the facts that had come to light tonight. Daryl didn't blame Rick for keeping the information about the virus to himself; it wouldn't have helped anyone anyhow. He didn't even really have a problem with Rick killing Shane. It was clear to just about everyone that their friendship had been over for awhile. Shane was a hot head and power hungry. If any man led me out to put a bullet 'n my back, he'd be dead too! Daryl thought. Yeah, Rick was a man of honor. Not perfect, not by a long shot, but he had honor.

The real problem was that when Carol had said she wanted a man of honor, he had the distinct impression that she was talking about him. Well, if she's lookin' for me to be her man o' honor, she's lookin' in the wrong place. Sure, he liked Carol well enough; better than most of these other people, but he wasn't ready to even consider anything further. Not with her; not with nobody. Besides, what did he know about honor? His biggest concern was staying alive each day.

He trained his gaze down on the group sleeping around the fire. Hershel and Beth were sleeping peacefully against a tree. Next to them Glenn had Maggie wrapped in his arms. Lori was snuggled around Carl; Rick was fidgeting a few feet away. That's just trouble waitin' to happen Daryl thought. At last his eyes lit upon Carol. She looked so small and frail laying there hugging herself against the cold. Something in his chest clenched seeing her like that and before he knew it he had dropped to the ground, removed his vest, and draped it over her. He realized that both Rick and T-Dog were looking at him so he hunched his shoulders, returning to his post.

During the rest of his shift his mind kept wandering back to Carol. He still remembered the first time he'd noticed the woman and her daughter. Him and Merle had only joined the group a few days before and he'd heard familiar noises of a struggle coming from inside a tent. A few minutes later, a small woman with short hair had climbed out with a little girl in hand. Already there was a purplish bruise forming on the side of the woman's face. Almost immediately a large man exited the tent; he wore the same self-satisfied expression Daryl remembered his father wearing after beating on him. He hadn't even known Carol then, but it still burned him up.

After Ed died, Daryl had gotten to know the mother and daughter a bit. They were nice folks; always had a kind word for everyone. That wasn't something he'd been used to, before or since the world was shot to shit. He'd tried to keep an eye out for them. Hell, everyone else had someone to look after them. Lori and Carl'd had first Shane and then Rick, Dale had taken Andrea and Glenn under his arm, even T-Dog had Jacqui up until the CDC had been blown to kingdom come. Really, it was only him, Carol, and Sophie who were shit outta luck. But it wasn't until Sophia had gone missing that he and Carol had formed a real friendship. He'd tried to give her hope and she'd thanked and encouraged him more than anyone else in the world ever had. It felt good to be needed and appreciated.

Maybe that was why finding Sophia in the barn, turned into one of those monsters, had been more damaging than any other failure he'd ever experienced. He could swear his arms still remembered what it felt like to hold Carol as she'd wept for her baby. He'd never tried to comfort anybody before; guess he wasn't no good at it. She'd closed herself off to him and he hadn't blamed her, not really. He blamed himself for letting her down; for letting Sophia down. His old man was right; he was a stupid, good for nuthin'. Carol had made him think, if only for awhile, that he could be more. But then it had all turned to shit. Even when she'd come back, held out an olive branch of sorts, he couldn't stop his anger. It had all been so good just to crash down around him.

The worst part was that he had only made it worse; yelling at her, nearly raising a hand to her himself. He'd never hit a woman before, he'd sworn he never would, but that particular woman drove him crazy. He couldn't understand why she wanted him around anyway. He hadn't saved Sophia like he promised and it killed him. How could she so easily forgive him when he couldn't forgive himself?

"Fuck!" He said, louder than necessary. Glenn had come up to relieve him, catching him off guard. "I'm sorry man, did I scare you?" Glenn smiled at the idea of scaring the surly man. "Like hell ya did." Daryl replied. Hopping down off the wall, he sauntered towards the fire and slid down the trunk of a tree not far from where Carol slept. Crossing his arms over his chest, he tried to fall asleep, but his eyes kept opening just to fall across Carol's sleeping form. Damn, why is she such a distraction? He couldn't understand why he felt this irrepressible urge to keep her safe. Earlier that night when the barn had caught fire and everything had gone to hell, he had been worried about her. He'd convinced himself that she was in one of the cars, but when he heard the screams he knew they were her and he'd rushed in to get her. He'd never risked his life so much for anyone before. Damn woman's gonna get me killed. He resolutely shut his eyes and forced himself to sleep.