Summary: Teaching archery to little kids was not the job he had in mind, but he liked it. He liked it because Sophia was his best student, and her mother was the most beautiful woman he had ever met.

note; i know i'm late. like super late. but i hope 5k+ words make up for it! i've been busy with school, we've got like 4 exams per week. also, my inspiration got cut off. i can still write, but there was a gap i finally filled. also, a belated happy birthday gift to my dad! i'd like to thank my beautiful beta, Green Owl, and Haitus80 for lending me her antichrist triplets. please enjoy and forgive my late updating!

Daryl didn't know where the hell Rick had found that bugle, but he sure as hell was never going to see it again.

Last night, after he left Sophia with Carol in the cabin, Daryl had tripped on his way back into his tent. The rain had been so dense that he hadn't been able to see a damn thing when it happened. Thankfully he hadn't broken any bones or shit like that, but he did feel something slash open his left leg. Damn jeans were too ripped and damaged to help him.

He kept on going until he reached the tent, swallowing down the pain and not bothering to dry himself off as he used his knife to rip off a part of his jeans. He grabbed the fabric, biting down a cry as he tied it around his leg. It hurt like a bitch, but it needed to be done.

Once his leg stopped throbbing, he laid down and tried to close his eyes, but he found he couldn't sleep. The pain was still too intense, and his mind kept running as unwelcome thoughts of Carol crept into his it. With her, he felt at ease, like he could be himself even if just for a while. But then he also felt nervous and insecure, always overthinking everything and praying he wouldn't fuck things up. She was the first woman he'd ever met who didn't wear twelve layers of make up to look even remotely nice. She didn't even need make up. She was already beautiful.

Daryl had never been comfortable around women. He found them noisy and annoying and fake. But Carol was quiet and kind and sincere. Shit like this messed up his head big time.

All his life, he's thought women were the most superficial beings to ever walk the earth. Now, he wasn't too sure about that.

It must've been around four o'-fucking-clock in the morning when he finally managed to drift off. He welcomed the shut-eye with open arms, even if it didn't do much to restore him. The pain was still there, and his leg was once again throbbing like a bitch, but he found a way to ignore it.

He hadn't been asleep for two hours when that fucking bugle interrupted his REM cycle and destroyed his eardrums.

Daryl climbed out of the tent like a rabid dog.

He ignored the looks some of the kids who were already outside were giving him. He ignored the pain in his leg. He ignored Rick's poor attempt of a excuse. All he could see was the fucking bugle right in front of him.

He snatched it from the man's hands, threw it down on the ground and stomped on it, satisfied when he heard a crack. He retrieved it, only to put it in his pocket and scowl at Rick. "Ya play this piece o' shit again and you'll have an arrow up your ass."

Rick sighed.

Daryl turned his head to the other kids around him. "Same goes to y'all."

He barely registered Sophia and Carl moving through the mass of kids. They stood beside him, followed by an amused-looking Carol. He looked over at Rick and found him looking intently at the ground.

Daryl followed his eyeline and realized Rick wasn't exactly looking at the dirt; he was looking at his leg.

"What happened?"

Daryl bit the inside of his cheek. He sneaked a glance at Carol, who was now watching him with concern, a frown on her face. He sighed and reluctantly answered. "I tripped."

"When?"

"Last night," he grunted.

"How?"

"The fuck?" Daryl growled. "We playin' twenty questions or somethin'?"

"I just want to know what happened," Rick clarified, "There's blood all over your jeans. It seems pretty nasty."

Daryl looked back at Carol, but he didn't see concern anymore. He saw guilt. He cursed under his breath, turned back to face Rick, and looked down to his feet, his answer a reluctant whisper so low you could miss it. "I had to pee."

He heard Sophia snort before she could catch herself. Daryl looked towards the girl and nodded in her direction, surprised to find her nodding back, a small smirk on her face.

"You had to pee?" Rick asked.

Daryl nodded.

The cop stared at him in silence for a long while before finally breaking into a quiet fit of laughter.

Daryl glanced around and saw many of the kids also trying to containing their laughter. He bit down on a smile as he saw Sophia give him thumbs up from the corner of his eye.

This wasn't so bad after all.

His smirk turned back into a frown and he glared at Rick. "What's so funny?"

Rick gasped for breath as he smiled at Daryl. A real smile, with teeth and all.

"I don't know," he said, "Huge storm hitting us and Daryl Dixon has to pee."

"Peeing is a human necessity, dad," Carl quoted, "When someone has to pee, they totally have to pee."

Daryl's laugh was cut short. His eyes moved from Sophia to Carl. These two were definitely spending too much time together.

The girl just shrugged when she caught his eye, like it was no big deal.

No big deal his ass. He didn't know why he felt the need to protect her, but the kid was growing on him. She wasn't scared of him and she chose him over the rest. Daryl then glared at the boy. He didn't care if they were 'just friends' or some shit like that. If the boy kept his hands off her then it would be fine.

If not, he might have to warn the kid.

The crowd dispersed once the laughter died down. Rick excused himself, saying that he had to wake up the other campers. He added that he wouldn't be using the bugle and Daryl smirked.

He better not.

He was about to stalk off when he heard a soft voice call him from behind.

"Daryl?"

He turned around and saw Sophia standing in front of him, a soft smile on her face.

"Thanks for covering my ass today."

He snorted. "Ain't nothing, kid."

"You saved me from social humiliation," she remarked. "I owe ya one."

"Ya don't owe me shit," he reassured her. "Wasn't much of a big deal."

"Yes, it was," she insisted. "I don't want to be marked just yet."

Daryl's brows furrowed in confusion. "Marked?"

"Yeah, marked," Sophia shifted uncomfortably. "You know, shunned."

Daryl's eyes widened and he swallowed down a growl. Sophia shouldn't feel this insecure. She was funny, pretty and witty. Why would she ever be shunned? He was a redneck and his family had a bad reputation, so he knew why people looked down at him. But Sophia? That just wasn't right.

He knelt down in front of her and glared, hoping that whatever the fuck that was gonna come out of his mouth counted for something, "Ya ain't got no reason to be an outcast, ya hear me? Why the hell would ya even think about that?"

Sophia looked down at her feet, unable to hold his stare. She sighed and hesitantly opened her mouth before shutting it again, her usual smile falling back into place.

"Tell you what," she said, "You let my mom take a look at your leg and I'll tell ya."

Daryl's glare intensified. "No."

"Then you'll never know."

Sophia smirked and walked back to where Carl was waiting for her. Daryl groaned and stood up. "Fine. But ya better tell me after this."

Sophia looked back at him with a knowing grin.

Damn kid was a traitor. Smart, but a fucking traitor.

She laughed at his grim expression and called over her shoulder.

"Scout's honor!"

"You've never been a Girl Scout."

Sophia shrugged, "So? It's an expression, Carl. You don't have to sell cookies and help grandmas cross the street to say it."

"Have it your way," the boy said as rolled his eyes. His eyes shifted back to her and he frowned. "What was that all about, anyway?"

Sophia turned back to Carl with an innocent smile. "What was what about?"

Carl rolled his eyes again. "You know what I'm talking about."

"No, I don't." Sophia's smile widened per second.

Carl scoffed. Sometimes Sophia could be so stressful. He knew she didn't mean to be, but he wasn't a patient person. And Sophia did it on purpose most of the time. She liked to push his buttons, and she knew exactly where they were.

They were walking through camp, passing Andrea's cabin. Carl saw the blonde woman sitting with her campers in a circle. He chuckled when he noticed all of them were girls. He recognized a few. Beth, for example. She was three or four years older than him or so, and she lived that farm outside Mason. She used to babysit him and Sophia, back when Ed was still around. Amy, Andrea's sister, was also in that group. He didn't know many girls aside from Sophia, so he tore his attention off them and focused back on his friend.

"Are you gonna tell me or not?"

"Not."

"Fine, be that way." He crossed his arms over his chest and sent her a cheeky grin. "Wait till everybody hears about Daryl walking you to the bathroom."

"How the hell did you know that?" Sophia hissed in panic.

"I didn't," Carl laughed. "You just told me yourself."

Sophia's face was a deep red. Carl couldn't stop his chuckles, she was just too funny. Her eyes wide and that deep scowl and her cheeks puffed.

Hilarious.

But then she wasn't red, but a light purple. That's when Carl stopped laughing.

"Jesus, Sophia," he said as he grabbed her shoulders and shook her, "I'm not in the mood for one of your pranks!"

Liar, her mind screamed.

"I wasn't going to tell anyone and you know it."

Sophia stood there, glaring at him and holding her breath. The lack of air was exhausting and awful, but she was having too much fun to pay attention to it. Carl was getting worked up and it was just too amusing. At least it was for her. They were freaks. She was a cynical little shit and he was a masochistic bastard. She knew that deep down, like real deep, he liked the tortures she put him through. Physical or emotional, that didn't matter.

He liked it.

Their jokes got out of line pretty much always. They didn't play lightly. They liked to risk everything just for entertainment. Sophia felt like after all she witnessed, all the crap Ed did to her mom, she shouldn't like such extreme games, but she just couldn't help it.

Carl's anxiety was evident on his face. He was becoming desperate, but she could see that glint of mirth in his eyes, the excitement that the small, fleeting rush of adrenaline brought.

It's addicting.

Her face finally broke into a grin.

He sighed, relieved that she had stopped.

She started laughing, doubling over as she mocked him. He glared at her, waiting patiently for her fit to stop.

"Holy shit," she laughed. "You should've seen your face!"

Carl scoffed. "You should've seen yours. You were freaking purple!"

They looked at each other for a second and burst out laughing again.

They were freaks, but it was fine.

Daryl silently entered the kitchen. The dining hall — as the many children under the vague influence of J.K Rowling's money machine named this cabin — was incredibly wide. It held a nice kitchen and a huge room with four large tables.

Not exactly Hogwarts, but it fit.

He leaned against the door frame, watching Carol as she fried the bacon with a smile on her face. She seemed so content doing it, like it was pleasant to do this for others.

He felt kind of creepy, knowing that he had been staring at her without her consent for a couple of minutes now. He brought his thumb to his mouth and chewed on the almost nonexistent fingernail. Yes, it was an ugly habit, but stopping was easier said than done.

They say that when someone bites their fingernails it's because they're under stress or nervous. Daryl had chewed off his nails for as long as he could remember. People say that it's only a matter of will, that you can stop whenever you can, but they obviously don't know shit cause that ain't how it works. You can't just stop biting them because you want to. No one would have that problem if that was the way out. No, this was some sort of necessity. He didn't have any control over it, he barely registered when it happened.

But maybe it was really because of the nerves, because he might as well have ripped off the raw skin when her eyes locked on his.

Carol jumped, bringing a hand to her mouth. She was usually a very nervous person, looking over her shoulder every time she heard the smallest of sounds, but cooking for someone who wasn't Ed was so refreshing she got lost in her work and didn't notice Daryl standing there until he was right in front of her.

She let out a sigh of relief and sent him a smile. He looked frozen in place, like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

Sometimes Daryl Dixon reminded her of a kid. But sometimes she saw him for what he was: a man. And that's when her head was the living Kamasutra.

She forced a smile. "Didn't see you there. Almost gave me a heart attack."

Daryl bit his lip, his eyes still avoiding her.

Carol concluded he wouldn't speak yet, if he even did, so she resumed to cooking her meal, occasionally glancing at him. He seemed nervous and deep in thought, like he was having a mental debate about what he should do next and the tension was killing him. She decided to save him the trouble and approached him.

"Something wrong?"

He finally looked up at her but his eyes didn't stay there for long. He shrugged. "Sophia said you'd take a look at my leg."

"Oh." Carol's eyes widened. She looked around the room and noticed the tables in the dining section, "Yeah, sure. Why don't we sit so I can check it out?"

He nodded and moved to sit down at the nearest table. She moved to the kitchen and pulled out a first aid kit from the oven. He raised an eyebrow but didn't question her. If this woman had crazy places to hide stuff then it wasn't his problem.

She sat down on the chair next to his and turned it so she was facing him. She smiled lightly and he found himself wanting to smile back. The corners of his mouth tugged upwards, and that was more than enough for her. If only, her smile just widened. She opened the white box and took out a few bandages, a bag of pills, rubbing alcohol and small bottles of stuff he didn't recognize.

She lifted his leg carefully and placed it on her lap. She felt him tense up as his breathing quickened. She knew he didn't like physical contact, she noticed the way he flinched when someone got too close. Carol still didn't pull away, untying the piece of fabric and lifting it to look at the injury. She grimaced at the amount of blood. The cut wasn't deep enough to require a trip to the ER, but it still seemed pretty bad.

"You're lucky," she told him. "The bleeding stopped a few hours ago, but it might start again once I clean the wound."

Daryl shrugged. "Had worse."

Carol didn't like how he said it so easily, but she didn't say anything. She opened the bottle of rubbing alcohol and looked back at Daryl. "This is going to hurt."

He nodded and she took that as permission to proceed. His face went red and his fists clenched, but he didn't make a sound. She frowned and tried to ignore him and focused on the task at hand. She continued cleaning his leg, looking for any signs of minor infections. Thankfully, she saw none.

Carol had the wound all patched up in a few minutes. She smiled down at her handiwork and stood up, walking towards the kitchen.

He stared at her, not knowing if he should stand or stay sitting. He rose from the chair when she entered the room again.

She smiled hesitantly, as if she had trouble finding the right words.

"Do you want some breakfast?" she asked. "It's almost eight and the kids will be coming in any minute now."

He nodded. "Thanks."

She went back to the kitchen to prepare him a plate. She poured him a glass of orange juice and smiled. She was please with the result.

Daryl chewed on his thumb. He didn't expect her to offer him breakfast. It felt odd, intimate even. He didn't do intimate. And yes, they were all having breakfast anyway, but it didn't stop him from feeling strange.

And he could've sworn he stopped breathing when she came back, holding a plate with a huge omelette and bacon, and a glass of juice.

Fucking shit, she brought him juice.

"There you go."

She sat down and watched him eat. He ate fast, swallowing down every bite and drinking large gulps of juice. He seemed like an endless pit. Like Sophia.

Wait. Where the hell was Sophia?

Carol looked out the window and saw most kids were already making their way to the cabin. She frowned. Usually, her daughter would be here by now, demanding food like a queen.

But she wasn't here.

"Have you seen Sophia?"

He lifted his eyes from the plate. "Last I saw, she was Carl."

She let out a sigh of relief. "Good. At least I know she's safe."

He snorted.

She looked sharply at him. "What?"

"Don't ya think that kid is getting a little too close to your girl?"

She giggled despite herself. The way he had said it just made him sound like a protective older brother, looking out for his sister and not wanting any boys near her.

Come to think of it, he sounded like a dad.

She stopped laughing and composed herself, trying not to seem shocked at the realization.

Daryl raised an eyebrow at her, silently asking what all the laughter was about.

She shrugged. "Carl and Sophia have been close since they were five," she explained. "Those two are joined at the hip. Sophia doesn't have many friends, and neither does Carl. They need each other. When they fight, all hell breaks loose. But they always make up."

"So you wouldn't mind that Grimes boy kissing Sophia in a bathroom?"

Carol gaped at him. "They're just kids, Daryl! He's not thinking about that just yet."

Daryl scoffed. "He's what? Twelve?"

"Thirteen," she corrected.

"Whatever. When I was his age Merle was shoving porn down my throat."

Silence.

He shut his mouth. He he could feel his face getting hot. Of course he had to go and fuck things up. Now she'd think he was some sort of perv, like his brother. Hell, she knew Merle. The guy probably slapped her ass at least once in high school. Now she thought he was another Dixon pig. She'd be disgusted and throw more rubbing alcohol and God knows what on his wound, spit on his face and then walk away, taking Sophia with her.

Daryl Dixon had a vivid imagination when it came to public rejection.

But then she laughed and he could've sworn he heard angels playing trumpets.

But it seemed a little off-key, so it might as well have been Rick playing that goddamn bugle again.

He glared at her until the laughter died down. She was still smiling, though. Her eyes were wet, but she looked happy. Daryl smiled. He was glad she was happy.

Carol Peletier never failed to surprise him.

"I can totally see Merle doing that," she said, "I think his locker was stuffed with porn."

He chuckled. "I inherited the damn thing. Had to clean it out and air it out for a weak until the stink of weed was gone."

"Hopefully Carl doesn't keep marijuana and Vanessa Hudgen's nudes in his locker," Carol joked.

"He better not," Daryl warned. "He tries anything funny with Sophia and ya tell me."

"Carl won't try anything, Daryl," Carol laughed. "Sophia would break his arm before he could even think about it."

"She can do that?" Daryl was impressed.

For someone who looked so little and innocent she was goddamn beast.

"There was a time when Carl and Sophia watched Little Manhattan and got obsessed with taking karate lessons together," she told him. "Carl ditched it after two years, but Sophia stayed for another year. Got a brown belt!"

Carol looked so proud of her daughter he couldn't help but smile.

"It's almost time for breakfast."

"I know," Carl kept staring straight ahead.

Sophia scowled at him. She was starving, but Carl insisted there was something he wanted to show her before they ate. He put it as 'something we won't be able to enjoy with other people around.'

Her stomach growled and she glared at her friend, "I'm hungry," she deadpanned.

"I know," he replied, calm as ever.

She rolled her eyes, "Carl, please, what is so important that—"

The view in front of her was astounding.

He smirked in delight.

They stood on top of a rocky hill. It looked more like a cliff, and if you walked a few steps forward you'd fall. But it was so high that down by the lake it looked too beautiful to be real. The lake was such a light blue and the water was so clear you could see the fish swimming in large groups. The green trees so alike they blended in. Sophia's breath caught in her throat.

Carl was right, it was something only they could see.

"Holy shit," she breathed.

"I know, right?" He started walking down a rocky path.

Sophia followed him without question, carefully stepping on the ground and not daring to look down, for she knew she would fall. Sophia could act like a fearless person and a fearful one when needed, but only the latter was true. She hated heights, she hated small spaces, she hated storms and she hated Ed. And everything she hated was everything she feared.

But she didn't fear Carl. She knew she would be safe with him.

"When did you even find this place?"

"Did some exploring while you all settled in," he answered. "Thought you should see it before everyone else did."

A warm smile appeared on Sophia's face. Carl could be an annoying douchebag, a cheater, a moron, an ass and so much more, but he was still the sweetest boy she had ever met.

Carl's grin wasn't soft anymore, it was darker, and that's when Sophia heard, "Race ya to the lake."

She didn't have time to register his words, he was already sprinting down the path.

She cursed and followed him, trying not to trip on her way down.

He was laughing hysterically as he scrambled down the slope with her right behind him, shouting profanities. This was how it was supposed to be, the two of them running and laughing and joking around. Just the two of them.

Only they weren't alone.

Sophia stopped dead in her tracks, almost crashing into Carl. She frowned. "I think we've got company."

Carl followed her line of vision and noticed a dark-skinned boy crouching by the edge, throwing rocks into the lake. He grinned when his mind finally recognized the kid. Slowly and silently, he approached the boy until he was standing right behind him.

Sophia arched an eyebrow. What was he doing?

She followed him, making no sound at all. She saw Carl smirk, then he raised the toy gun he kept in his waistband as he whispered, "Move and I'll shoot."

The boy didn't even tense. He just sat there, stoic as ever.

Sophia's eyes widened when he heard the boy chuckle.

"Nice try, Carl," he said. "Still can't sneak up on me, though."

Carl grinned. "It was worth a shot."

The boy stood up and turned to the pair with a smile on his face. His eyes shifted from Carl to Sophia and his grin widened. "You never told me you had a girlfriend, man."

Carl's face flushed and he groaned, "Christ, Duane."

"I ain't his girlfriend," Sophia growled, gritting her teeth. "We're just friends."

Duane laughed, rolling his eyes, "That's what they all say."

Sophia glared daggers at the boy. "I really don't think I like you, Duane."

"Oh," Duane smirked. "But I like you already, darlin'."

"My name's Sophia," she scowled. "Don't call me 'darling.'"

"Sure thing," Duane walked past them and climbed up the path back to the quarry.

Carl followed him, laughing loudly at Sophia's reaction.

Duane smirked and shouted after her, "Ya comin', darlin'?"

Sophia screamed in rage.

Carol was getting worried.

All the kids were already eating and chatting happily with each other. She scanned the room once, twice, three times, and still couldn't spot them. She sighed and kept picking on her food. Her anxiety kept building up.

"What's wrong?"

Carol gave Andrea a tight smile. She met her when Andrea moved into town with her dad and her little sister, Amy. Ed had never let her have any friends, but now that she was free of him, she couldn't see why not. Andrea was a really nice person, and when she heard about what Ed used to do to her, Carol had been glad that there weren't any sharp objects around. God knows she would've stabbed whoever got too close to her. From that day forward, Andrea Harrison was Carol Peletier's best friend.

"It's nothing," Carol reassured her as she felt a pair of eyes focus on her. She knew it was Daryl. He was sitting right in front of her and it was hard not to notice him. He was probably scowling or glaring, knowing it was a lie. She tried to ignore him, quietly eating her breakfast. Andrea didn't look satisfied either, but she let it go.

Daryl, on the other hand...

"It ain't nothin' if you're sulkin'," he told her. "Sophia's fine. She'll be here soon."

And as soon as the words left his mouth, the door opened, and three guilty looking kids walked in.

Sophia looked around the room until she spotted her mom and gulped. Her mom scowling at her with her arms crossed, Daryl smirking like a dick, and a sympathetic-looking Andrea only meant one thing.

She was totally grounded.

Sophia sighed and walked over to the table. She felt Carl and Duane silently follow her. Rick was too busy with camp ideas to notice Carl wandering off, and Duane's dad wasn't part of the staff. She was the only one with an overprotective, paranoid mother. She kept her eyes glued on the floor, not daring to look up. Once she was close enough, she took a deep breath and finally stared at her mom's face.

Only her mom wasn't scowling anymore. She was smiling.

Carol must have noticed her daughter's confusion because her smile softened.

"I'm not mad, sweetie," she told her daughter. "I was just worried, that's all. You never miss breakfast."

"I was fine, mom," she insisted. "I was with these two morons, anyway."

"Who are you calling a moron?" Carl exclaimed in outrage.

Sophia rolled her eyes and turned back to her mom, "I'm not going to miss breakfast again, I promise."

"You may skip it," Carol smiled. "As long as you've got Carl or -" she stopped, looking over at Duane, and giving him an apologetic smile, "I'm sorry, I don't know your name?"

"It's fine, ma'am," he assured her. "I'm Duane Johnson."

"Right," Carol smiled. The boy seemed nice, and Sophia needed more friends than just Carl. "Well, as long as you've got Carl or Duane with you, then it's okay."

Sophia scoffed. "I can protect myself, mom."

"I know you can, sweetie," Carol laughed. "But I'm sure Carl would protect you from anything as well."

"Of course," Carl smirked at Sophia, who was currently gaping at him in disbelief. "I'll keep her out of trouble."

"Yeah, and ya better keep yer hands to yourself, too," Daryl said.

Sophia saw Carl gulp and she sighed.

"Daryl—"

"That boy right there ain't your friend," he glared. "He's nothing but a bag of hormones."

"Daryl!"

"Ya keep wearing t-shirts and jeans, if you know what's best for ya," he added. "Don't want those horny fucks thinkin' shit they ain't supposed to."

Duane and Andrea couldn't help their laughs as Sophia and Daryl shot daggers at both of them, respectively. They didn't shut up, though. Carol smiled at the scene and went to fetch three more plates to the kitchen.

When she came back, Daryl and Sophia were having a small staring contest. She wanted to laugh so badly. Both of them acted like five year olds sometimes, and only one of them was still a kid.

Carol chuckled and put down the meals.

"Stop acting like children and start eating," she commanded. "The three of you will be late."

"Late for what?" Carl asked.

"Captains for each cabin are being picked tomorrow," Andrea explained, "You gotta sign up today for the job, and tomorrow you'll compete with whoever else signed up. Winner becomes captain."

"And what are we competing in?" Sophia asked, "I mean, I'm shit under pressure. I've never been good at track. Or sports, for what it's worth."

"Depends on the cabin," Andrea responded. "Each leader must hold their own competition. My girls are going to have a fishing contest."

"Wait," Sophia turned to Daryl. "You're gonna make us hunt, aren't you?"

Daryl raised a brow and she had her answer.

Sophia swallowed down what was left of her food and grabbed Carl's arm, dragging him off the table. His plate fell and he almost choked on his bacon.

Sophia groaned. "C'mon, we gotta practice!"

"I'm still eating!" he complained.

"So?" Sophia scoffed. She stopped running and turned to Duane. "You coming, darling?"

Duane smirked. "I'm right behind ya."

The three of them were gone like a flash, but you could still hear Carl's complaints from outside.