Chapter Twenty-Seven

Daryl stood in his kitchen area washing the dishes that had piled up in the sink. As he rinsed and stacked them on the counter, the banging and clashing echoed in the small space of his trailer.

Merle looked over from where he'd been lounging on the couch in front of the TV with a beer.

"You wanna keep it down. Folks are tryin' to live peacefully over here."

Daryl's response was to slam a dirty bowl against the side of the sink. "Wouldn't have to do this at all if you weren't such a damn slob. Or you can get your own place and have all the peace you want."

"Whoo, somebody's pissy today. Don't take your shitty attitude out on me."

Daryl refused to give him his attention. "Don't start, Merle. I aint in the mood for it."

"You aint in the mood for a lot 'a stuff lately. Don't do nothin' but work and sleep. And that do-gooder shit you still wastin' your time on. What you need is to come out with me and the boys one 'a these nights like we been on you about. It aint decent you not havin' some fun."

Flipping the faucet on, Daryl didn't respond. He had enough on his mind without his brother riding him every day about what he did or didn't do with his time.

It had been two weeks since his argument with Michonne and he was miserable, depressed, and generally in a terrible state of mind. They'd exchanged a few cold, angry texts but mostly all communication had ceased. It frustrated him, infuriated him. And it made him sad.

He missed Michonne and her daughters something terrible. His girls. It seemed as if he'd never felt this kind of hurt in his life before. He wouldn't back down, though. He knew in his gut he was in the right.

Merle took Daryl's silence in stride. "Fine, be like that. Don't give me no trouble to have you walkin' around all long-faced and whipped."

"Fuck you. You don't know a thing about it."

"I know aint nobody worth this amount 'a bellyachin'." Daryl had no problem accepting that Merle truly believed that. He felt a little sorry for his older brother for it, not ever having experienced what he had with Michonne. Or rather, what he used to have with Michonne.

"Hey, I don't go buttin' into your life so keep your nose outta mine."

Scoffing, Merle took a long drag of his beer. "All you do is keep you nose stuck in my life. All the shit that's gone down with you and your woman, it's for the best. Mark my words."

His brother's dismissal made him slam the pan he'd just rinsed back onto the stove. That's the one thing they could agree on but it still felt like bullshit.

Merle had been right that all he did was work and sleep. Or at least he tried to. Usually he just lay in his bed thinking about what Michonne might be doing or how the girls were. All their little appointments and habits flashed through his mind, as strong as any motor memory instinct. Octavia had a sleepover at her friend's house last Saturday that she'd talked about for weeks. Ursula's front tooth would be coming out any day now. Michonne would be making final plans for spending Thanksgiving down in Florida with her family. He wondered how that would go down and if she still planned on taking the girls to Disney World without him. The thought of it struck a huge, pained nerve.

It amazed him how he could love someone and want to be with them so much yet force himself to keep his distance. At least he knew she was safe. Rick had found himself in the doghouse with Michonne too, so she hadn't confided anything in him, nor did she even talk to him much outside of checking on Carl and Judith. Thankfully, she hadn't cut off Carol who reported that Michonne and the girls were doing okay. Michonne had talked to her friend Mike from work about coordinating some low-key security for them and had even disclosed to James her concerns for the girls so that he could be on alert too. It made Daryl crazy that instead of the two of them working things out to handle the situation, she'd had to go running to her ex and the guy Daryl knew had wanted to get into her pants before they'd started dating.

Carol could only tell him so much, especially since Michonne knew that whatever she revealed would surely get back to Daryl. His friend couldn't say one way or another whether Michonne had teamed up with Andrea again—although Carol thought if that were the case, Michonne probably had a tight lid on her activities and had the means to stay under radar. He hadn't told her much besides the fact that they'd had a fight over Blake. But once again, Carol had partially sided with Michonne, suggesting that Blake would believe what he wanted since the man clearly thought Michonne a threat despite her lack of involvement in the whole situation. To Blake, guilt by association turned out to be the problem so maybe the better tactic was to give him what he wanted.

Daryl recognized that Michonne talking to Carol at all served as a way to reassure him that the girls were okay; he supposed he should be grateful for that. Yet it made it more difficult to think about the time together that they were losing and what foolish things she planned on stirring up without him at her back.

That is if Blake didn't get to her first.

His phone buzzed in his pocket and he wiped his hands on his legs as he dug it out. Speak of the damn devil, in this case a frustrating, sexy, amazing devil that he adored—just not at this moment: a text message from Michonne.

The girls want 2 talk. Can u handle that?

He tried not to let his temper flare at the tone he'd given the message in his mind. Sarcastic or concerned, it still wasn't the sound of her voice asking him and that upset him even more.

Thinking about it for a moment, he wondered if it was really a good idea to go down this road. Why pick at the scab? Yet the chance to hear their voices pulled at him too strongly.

Wanna talk to them too. When?

As he typed, he headed back to his room and slid the door closed. It didn't much matter since the door was thin and shitty and the sound carried throughout the place like nothing. Still, he needed the illusion of privacy for this conversation, to forget Merle sat just outside his door judging him for his choices.

Now?

OK.

Several minutes passed as he anxiously waited for the phone to ring. When it finally did, he jumped and picked up immediately.

"Hello?"

"Daryl!" The sound of their high pitched squeals brought out a smile a mile wide, something he hadn't done once since the last time he'd seen them.

"Is that my Big Bit and Lil Bit?" They enthusiastically confirmed. He tried to sound normal for them. From the sound of the echo, he could tell Michonne had put him on speakerphone so she'd be listening in on the conversation too. There was no telling what Michonne had said to explain his longer than usual absence. He knew she wouldn't badmouth him but he wondered if she made it sound like their fight was a temporary thing or something more permanent that she needed to ease them into.

"Mama says you're busy with grown up stuff," Octavia said. "But you've gotta get unbusy so you can see me in my play." Daryl hadn't forgotten about the Christmas play that the little girl already talked all their ears off about. Her class must have started preparing for it.

Daryl couldn't figure out how he should respond so as not to disappoint her. So he dodged.

"Well, we'll see. You gon' be great in it. You already got your lines down and everything."

Ursula added, "And I made you a puppy princess in my class so you can have a friend with you when you're not with us." Daryl frowned. He didn't like thinking about not being with them, although it loomed as something he'd need to come to terms with soon.

He put on his best serious voice hoping that it would make her laugh. "How do you make a puppy princess, Urs?"

"Weeeellll," she started, dramatic in any retelling when she knew she could hold audience. "First you make a puppy picture. And it's gotta be a good one 'cause princesses are really pretty. Then you have to make a crown and make sure the crown matches the puppy."

"Oooh," Daryl responded, sounding very interested. "I'm sure she's gon' be real good company for me. Does she gotta name, this puppy princess?"

"Yes! Princess Fluffernuter Squirrelchaser. She can help you hunt if you take her with you. "Daryl chuckled. He'd taught her what a fluffernutter was just a few weeks ago, although Michonne hadn't been thrilled about it. Lucky for her, both girls had proclaimed it too sweet and left most of their sample for him to finish.

" And Tavi, did you finish painting your wall picture in your bedroom?"

The little girl sighed. "No. I can't decide if I want grasshoppers or ladybugs or if I just want some flowers. Will you help me pick one when you come next time? Mama and I tried some out but I don't know which I like more."

Again, Daryl paused. "I'm sure whatever you pick will be beautiful." He realized he'd really wanted to see the finished product. He'd sat and watched her paint all afternoon once, fascinated by how her talent developed even in the short time he'd known her. Ursula had come in too at one point and played quietly next to him, checking out her sister's work.

They told him about their trip to the museum with their dad and Stacy, and the various gossips that occurred in the life of little girls. He'd respond at all the right moments with a silly question or an emphatic interest. Michonne let them talk for a while, interjecting a detail every now and again but mostly remaining quiet. He could imagine them all curled up together with the phone between them, Ursula crawling all over her mother with extra energy and Tavi sitting quietly as she made sure not to forget any detail of the stories she relayed.

After half an hour, the girls started going off on silly tangents, and even though he loved talking to them like this, he also knew that their dad usually came to pick them up around this time so they'd probably be going soon. Sure enough, Michonne told them to start wrapping up their conversation so they could get ready to go.

"Okay ladies, one last minute with Daryl and then you need to go get your stuff and put it by the door. Your father will be here any minute."

"Don't forget Puppy Princess, Daryl. Come see us soon." He told her he wouldn't think of forgetting and would let her know how they got along. When Michonne warned her not to run up the stairs, it confirmed that she'd said her peace and then dismissed him.

"And Tavi, don't be mean to that boy in your class. He's probably just scared 'a ya after you beat him at dodge ball."

"I won't. He's okay. But if he pulls my hair, I'm gonna get Miss Linda to give him timeout."

"Well, that's okay. If he's mean to you first, you get your teacher."

He could tell she had rolled her eyes at that. "I know. That's what Mama said. We miss you, Daryl." The sincerity in her expression broke his heart. "Talk to Mama okay. She'll tell you to stop being too busy for us."

That's the thing with kids. Sometimes they knew more than they let on, even if they don't fully understand the complications. Octavia clearly didn't quite buy the whole 'Daryl's too busy' line Michonne had fed her. Daryl wondered what else the little girl picked up on. Maybe her mom was just as miserable as him and that's why she wanted them to talk. Wishful thinking probably. He longed to reassure her but he didn't feel as if he knew how. Or that it was his place to say anything when he and Michonne were at such odds.

Michonne spoke up instead. "Go ahead and get your stuff ready too. And make sure your sister doesn't try to take her entire stuffed animal collection this time." A rustling of the phone indicated that Octavia had run off too to join Ursula.

That just left Michonne. Would she even talk to him or just hang up?

More jostling. "Thanks for talking to them," Michonne said. The low tones of her voice shot straight to his heart. He both wanted more but feared the words that her voice came with. She'd also taken the phone off speaker so she came through clear and crisp and even more tortuous in his ear.

"Yeah, it's no problem. Wouldn't do nothin' to disappoint those girls."

The silence felt uncomfortable. He didn't have any idea where to go from here. It all seemed so unsafe. Instead of testing the waters, he just kept his mouth shut. He genuinely didn't want to fight with her but the stakes on the table were incredibly high.

"So I'm gonna go," Michonne said finally.

Daryl panicked. Was this his last chance to talk to her? What could he possibly say to fix this fucked up situation between them?

"I—" He breathed out, brain frozen and frenzied.

Michonne didn't respond right away. "Yeah?"

What else could he do but be honest. "I don't know how to fix this."

"That makes two of us. Maybe—" In the background, the doorbell rang. Michonne cursed softly to match the expletive that popped into Daryl's head at the same time. "It's James. I gotta go."

"Alright. Give the girls a kiss for me."

"I will." His phone beeped and shut off when she hung up. He put his head in his hands and breathed steadily in and out.

"You're doing the right thing." Merle repeated from the doorway. He'd silently eased the door open, having eavesdropped on the whole conversation. "She needs you to protect her from herself. She wouldn't understand that if you laid it all out there so this is the only way."

Daryl tried to be mad at his brother but he didn't have the energy.

"Oh yeah? What do you know about it?"

"I know you're beatin' yourself up over losin' your little family, but it could get a whole lot worse if you don't do what you need to do. You and Rick. I told ya when I first filled you in about working for Blake when we met up that night. The man aint one for empty threats. Hell, I saw up close the crazy shit he gets himself into. He's got it in his head that your girl's trouble, and unless you play your cards right, it's game over. So man up and stop actin' all pussy-whipped."

Ignoring the jab, Daryl reached over to pull on his boots. "You don't get to talk shit after you was the one workin' for him."

"Yeah, probably still would be if he hadn't gotten all squirrelly about me being related to you and all the trouble Andrea and your girl are causin' him."

"I did you a favor, far as I see it. And Michonne was barely even in his business. He's just mad 'cause he tried to put his dirty hands on her and she almost kicked his ass for it. His beef aint nothin' but some hurt feelings over his damn ego." He yanked on his other boot and laced it up as he ranted. "And I still think this whole thing is bullshit. Even if I stay away from them until we get her to a face-to-face meeting like I said I would, he could turn on her whenever he feels like it. Aint got no reason to believe he's square."

Daryl's mind went back to that night Merle had called him after he'd left the shelter. He'd insisted Daryl meet him at some backwater bar to discuss something important that had come up. When he arrived, there sat Blake at a table in the corner next to Merle. But more shocking was that Rick also sat at the table with them, along with some Poindexter-looking guy Daryl didn't know.

"You don't need to worry about why I want to talk to her, you just need to break off contact while I work out my affairs. Once that's done, you can do what you like," Blake drawled.

"You're a damn fool if you think I'll agree to any 'a that. You think she aint gon' know somethin's up when I up and leave for no good reason?"

"Then you need to make it a good reason," he said firmly. "You'll figure out somethin'."

Rick cut into the conversation. "Just think about it, Daryl. Think about those girls. It aint askin' much."

"How can you say that to me?" Daryl said, turning his anger onto his friend.

A darkness descended over his expression. "You know how." The man had lost so much of what was close to him in such a short amount of time. The grief might be what guided him in this conversation, but that didn't mean it wasn't real and powerful and a point to be taken under advisement.

Blake broke into the tense moment between the two friends. "I'm not gonna hurt her, if that's what you're worried about. Why would I do that? Bring that kind of attention to myself?"

The accountant-looking guy—Milton or Milbert something—piped in on the point. "I can assure you that no harm will come to her. We just want to talk and clear up a few things, not cause further trouble."

"But threatenin' me to get at her is totally on the table? I done already told ya that she aint involved. She'd barely been anywhere near whatever shit's going on between you and Andrea."

"You'll forgive me if I don't believe you. And even if I did, I'm well aware that you may think you know what's in your woman's head, but how much do you really know about your precious Michonne? Are you sure she doesn't have secrets that she keeps from you?"

"Don't bother with your psychological mind games. Michonne aint Andrea and I aint nothin' like you. What I got with my woman is the real deal and I trust her. You should be thankin' me for convincin' her that you weren't worth the trouble of dealin' with, not that you gon' get a 'thank you' outta me for proving me right.

Blake looked at Daryl for a while, sizing him up as if he just now realized who he was dealing with. "Daryl, there are no threats being made here, only a bunch of us discussing the situation like men. I have no interest in sitting around waiting for those two—" He cut himself off seeing the anger in Daryl's eye, "—those two ladies to destroy me in an unfair fight."

"And I say take your issues to Andrea where they belong."

Blake leaned back in his chair, finger running along the rim of his drink. "We can go back and forth with this but my offer is what it is: everyone goes back to their corners for a couple of weeks, Rick drops his little undercover investigation he didn't think I knew about, you stay away from Michonne and her family—give her some space to think about the stakes—and in two weeks, I meet with her and work this out like civilized people. No threats, no violence, no police and lawsuits. Just everything on the table and square. If things are as you say and she's really not involved in any of this nonsense Andrea is stirring up, well, then you'll have nothing to be concerned about."

"And if you aint satisfied on that count, like you aint satisfied now?"

Blake shrugged and took a sip of his drink. "If she's not involved, you won't have to worry about that either."

The two men stared each other down. "Why do you care so much 'bout me cuttin' her off?" Daryl asked.

Tilting his head, Blake pretended to think about the matter. "Let's just say that it's important that I deal with her on equal ground." He rested his arms on the table to lean into Daryl. "I don't need you or Rick over there whispering in her ear when all I intend is to even things up between the two of us. I've heard about you two and how you're all loved up," he mocked. "You've got sway over her. And I don't wanna have to try and control you so I need to take you out of the equation." They both glanced over to Merle, recognizing that Philip Blake had every intention of controlling Daryl anyway through whatever means at his disposal.

Rick turned to Daryl. "It aint unreasonable. We could end this right now. No more worryin' about our kids. No more dealing with Andrea."

"Michonne finds out I'm lyin' to her and makin' deals with this asshole, I aint gon' be around to worry 'bout none 'a that no way. She won't speak to me again."

"No," Rick said emphatically. "If there's anything Michonne understands, it's taking risks to keep people safe, especially the people we love. She might get sore about it but she'll come around." Daryl frowned, unconvinced. "We need to protect her, Daryl. This plan aint perfect but it's what we got and it's worth a shot." He cut a careful glance towards Blake. "She'd want you to think of the greater good here. It's what she'd do too."

All the arguments that Daryl had had with Michonne on the matter ran through his mind, confusing his thoughts.

"Come on, Little Brother, listen to sense. We all got a hand in this. I aint goin' back to prison for bein' caught up in your shit." He laughed cruelly. "Aint this a damn cosmic joke—me gettin' caught up in this and it aint even my cause."

Daryl thought on it: Rick's assurances, how difficult Blake could make things for Merle, the threats and risks to Michonne and the girls. They were all family and he needed to protect them.

He looked at each man, assessing them for lies or nervousness. They were all tense but they were also all stone serious, even the geeky guy.

"Fine. You got two weeks. But I got some conditions too. If we cooperate and you do anything to my family—Merle, those girls, Michonne, anyone; you even think about touchin' a hair on their heads, and I will fucking destroy you. And whatever happens at your damn meeting, you live with it."

Rick looked slightly relieved and then grew concerned again. "You sure you can keep your distance?"

"Said I would, didn't I?"

Blake smirked at him as he sipped his liquor. "Like I said, I'm sure you'll figure something out. You seem like a guy who knows how to turn a tricky spot into an opportunity."

"Our business is done so why don't you do everybody a favor and stop talkin' like you know a damn thing about me." Daryl gripped the tumbler he held so hard it was a miracle it didn't shatter.

Rick put a hand on his shoulder. "I think we're doing the right thing here, Daryl."

"We better be." Daryl tossed back his drink and walked out of the bar.

Merle's voice interrupted his agitated reflection. "Why you playin' along if you so convinced Blake aint right?"

"I told Rick that too but he insists we stick to the plan. I trust him to handle things. He says it's all gonna come to a head and that Blake will go down for the things he's done at the end 'a the day. He thinks this could get Michonne outta the line 'a fire." He shook his head. "It still don't sit right with me."

Merle sucked his teeth, sounding disgusted. "Rick aint got the stomach for negotiatin' with the bad guys. He's gon' get all law and order, and then y'all really gon' find yourselves in a den 'a wolves and not even a damn slingshot between the two 'a ya. Or the three of us I guess since I've been dragged into all this fool business. Rick's gon' buckle, you know that right?"

For a moment, Daryl considered the likelihood of that scenario and then shrugged. "If he does, he does. Can't say I'd object to it."

"Naw you just gon' stand by anyway when it's your girl and her kids in the thick of it 'cause Rick says so." Merle chuckled and shook his head. "Do you even possess a pair 'a balls, Little Brother? Are they even attached? I mean, if they are, they belong to you. Lettin' somebody else run your life? You used to call people like that sheep." He looked away for a minute and then went back to staring from the doorway. "What happened to you, Daryl?"

Listening to his brother mock him, Daryl had a hard time taking him seriously. Of course, Merle didn't have a thing to say on it when it was him trying to run Daryl's life.

"What happened to you? Workin' for an asshole like that, doing god knows what in his name? You don't talk to me about bein' sheep.

"I done worse. And I aint got no fancy friends to hold my hand like you."

It was the same old resentment from many arguments before. He'd felt bad the first time he'd heard it, but now it just pissed him off. Michonne told him over and over again not to let Merle paint him as the bad guy for wanting better for himself. A few times she'd had to assure him that Merle made his own bed and he could sure as hell lie in it.

Glaring at him, Merle looked like a cobra ready to strike. "You and Rick talk about me workin' for Blake, doin' his dirty work and not tellin' nobody. And now y'all wanna do the same damn thing I did—playin' his game and not caring who gets screwed in the process if it aint your own kind, just like me. Yeah, people do what they gotta do. Or they die.

"You can't keep livin' like it's just you, Merle. You can't do things without people anymore, man."

Merle didn't seem convinced, although Daryl knew him well enough to see his mind working at it. His brother probably wanted to believe Daryl's words but a lifetime of getting his head knocked in for holding onto any kind of hope tended to be a powerful deterrent.

"Maybe you people need someone around like me, huh? Do your dirty work? Be the bad guy. How's that hit ya?"

Daryl sighed. He still sat on the bed but he got up and stood in front of his brother. They were about the same height although Daryl tended to think of Merle as bigger. "I keep tellin' you, it aint gotta be like that. You just gotta want it. I want it for ya. Maybe when all this settles down—"

His brother laughed, a derisive, mocking sound. "You think this shit gon' settle nice and neat? Naw, it's gon' be messy and you'll be lucky to get out of it with your ass still attached."

It wasn't like he couldn't argue against Merle on this particular point, really.

"I should just tell Michonne what's goin' on then. Get Rick to talk to some of his police buddies."

Merle shook his head and crossed his arms. "You keep talkin' 'bout going to the cops or whatever it is you think might get you back on solid ground. But are you willin' to risk your woman or them rugrats over it? You playin' his game so you gotta live by his rules. Hell, I agree with ya. It's just a chance and y'all jumpin' through hoops like it's the damn Olympics. But if you're wrong…."

Shrugging, Merle pushed himself from the doorway. "If he meets with your girl face to face and gets her to back off then you can go back to playin' house or whatever it is that y'all do together. But if you mess up his pretty plan by lettin' her in on it, then all bets are off and she and her precious little daughters are his for the takin'."

"She finds out I had a hand in partnerin' with Blake and lying to her, aint gon' be nothin' to go back to."

"Then why'd you agree to it?"

He looked at the little contraption sitting on his nightstand that he, Michonne, Urs and Tavi had made one afternoon when they were playing around at the girls' arts and crafts table. It was the ugliest damn thing and they'd all laughed about it and tried to guess what they'd had a hand in creating. Each came up with a different idea of what it was supposed to be. The girls had tried to throw it away but Daryl insisted on taking it home with him.

"I'd rather let 'em go than see any harm come to 'em that I coulda kept from happenin'. Michonne can be as mad as she wants and she may never forgive me but I'd do it again a thousand times." He paused. "And I'd do the same for you." He thought about making light of it but Daryl was dead serious and his emotions felt too raw and on the surface to bluff his way through an explanation.

Merle uncharacteristically refrained from commenting for a minute. He frowned and considered Daryl intensely. Finally, he responded, "Man, get outta here with all that mushy bullshit." Bowing his head and not meeting Daryl's eyes, he backed out of the room. A few seconds later, Daryl heard the front door slam.

Dressed and ready to head out, Daryl sat on the bed, too wound up still to start his day. He kept reliving his conversation with Michonne and the girls, the sweet sounds of their little voices and the husky addition of their mothers in the few words she'd shared during the call. Michonne took good care of them so they sounded just as happy as always. But he liked to think that they sounded even happier when they'd asked when he was coming over and whether he would be there for this event or that project. He wanted to accept the sadness he thought he heard at the distance—as much as a child could convey.

Picking up his cell phone from the bed, he flipped it open and stared at the tiny image of Michonne that she'd put for his background picture as a joke. She didn't make fun of him for his archaic phone, but it did make her chuckle at just how unsophisticated it made him look. The picture reminded him of that, showing the slight smile she'd get when he amused her in some way.

After a while, Daryl heard a car pull up and voices outside. He wondered which of Merle's deadbeat friends could possibly be up before noon to come and drag him into whatever trouble they had in mind. It sounded like a cue as good as any to head out. He grabbed his jacket and his motorcycle keys from the kitchen counter and stepped out of the trailer.

Instead of being greeted by Merle and one of his asshole friends, he found he'd interrupted some kind of intense conversation between his brother and his best friend. Rick had his hands on his hips, looking off into the woods. Merle glared at him in return but brushed it off when Daryl appeared in the doorway.

"Your buddy's here," Merle said, derision dripping from each word. "I'm outta here. I'll bring the truck back later." With that he climbed in and rode off, leaving Rick standing there looking stressed.

Daryl let the door bang behind him as he stepped down and approached his friend. "Somethin's up?" Rick turned back towards him and bowed his head, which only increased Daryl's nervousness.

Finally, meeting his eye, Rick shook his head. "Naw. Nothin' more than usual." He ran his hand over his head. "Merle givin' you problems?"

"No more than usual," Daryl threw back. He distracted himself by shrugging on his jacket. "Heard from Michonne just now. The girls wanted to talk." He bit into his lip to hold back his lingering emotional response to the conversation.

That got Rick's attention. "You didn't say nothin' about what's goin' on did you?" The question had a bite to it, not quite an angry accusation but the subject had definitely triggered something.

Daryl sighed. "We didn't have time to talk much, just me and her. I didn't say anything." Rick pursed his lips, holding back some kind of remark. "You know how I feel about it though. I think we need to tell her."

"No!" Rick ground out. "It'll ruin everything."

"Like it's not ruinin' shit now? Man, I'm riskin' everything going along with this asshole. What, for a chance? Merle was right on that."

Rick walked up to him. Although Rick's body language clearly contained his stress, he also tried to calm himself down before speaking. The man knew that Daryl did not respond well to bald aggression.

"Look, Daryl, I know this is hard and you don't deserve to be put in this position. But think 'a those girls. Think of Michonne. You're protecting her and so am I, along with my own kids." He put his hand on Daryl's shoulder. "This is what we have to do. You gotta trust me on that."

Looking down, Daryl fidgeted with the keys in his hand. "It just aint honest man. It took so long for her to open up to me and then this. She won't forgive me for this. And I won't feel right askin' for it 'cause I'll understand."

"Daryl, listen to me." He looked his friend right in the eye. "You'll get past this. You two worked too hard to find each other not to. She will understand that you did what you had to for her."

"Is that what we're doin' though? That last time I talked to her, she said we were supposed to be partners and figure stuff like this out together."

"And you will. Just as soon as we clear all this up."

"Clear what up? Merle aint convinced Blake's on the up and up about how he wants to talk to Michonne. I aint so sure myself. I think I just need to come clean and whatever goes down is what was meant to be."

"After tomorrow this will all be in the past. Just keep it together for one more day, Daryl. It'll all work out. You'll see." He took a step back. "One more day, that's all."

Daryl shuffled and stared off into the rustling greenery that surrounded them. Usually being outside like this was a peaceful reminder of his comfort zone. But now the sounds of the wind and leaves and insects felt grating.

"One more day, Rick. And we better hope it works out or we'll both end up payin' for it worse than anything we thought would go down." Daryl held Rick's gaze until his friend turned away, glancing down at his feet. "I gotta head to the shelter. I'll see you there later." Shaking his head and obviously still agitated, Daryl climbed on his bike, snapped his helmet in place and rode off.

TBC