Pairing: Rick/Daryl (established relationship)

Rating: Teen maybe? for like violence and low-key cuddly almost-necking.

Warnings: here there be spoilers for episode 04x15 "Us"…kinda.

Author's note: I'm writing this because one, it's a great idea and two, fuckyeahrickyl wanted it and I thought I might be able to deliver at least something worthwhile. I needed a short break from NGUNS anyway. I'm contemplating the next couple scenes in that one before I get too much more down on "paper" and find I'll be needing to rewrite it or something. It scares me so stupid bad to write Rick or Daryl out of character. *shudders* So…Reunion Claimed ficlet!

Secondary note: suspend your disbelief for the brief fight scene. I didn't want to drag this out, kthnxbai

The sun was bright, but the wind was chill. Fall was creeping in with Old Man Winter right behind her. Daryl missed his poncho. Even with the long sleeved shirt under his vest and the sleeveless shirt under that he was still feeling the nip in the air. Wouldn't be long now and there'd be a dusting of snow on the ground. Georgia didn't see it often, but ever since the Turn, the weather hadn't quite been the same, so who knew? Maybe they'd even get a blizzard. Not an idea Daryl liked, but something it wouldn't hurt to prepare for.

The group before him came to a stop and Joe started to move to the head of the group, Daryl staying right behind him. A ways down the tracks, still camped to the side in the openness of the field that ran between the tracks and the woods to either side of them, three figures huddled around a tiny campfire, eating breakfast.

"Tony?" Joe's voice was soft, but Daryl heard it like a shout. He already knew what Tony would say before the man had even started to open his mouth. Tony would confirm that the man was the one who had killed one of theirs. Tony would condemn Rick to death.

"Claimed!" Daryl had no idea what possessed him to snap the word, but as soon as it left his mouth, he knew it was probably the only chance he had to save Rick and maybe Carl and Michonne too if this pack of wolves got outta hand. "All three o' them. Claimed. I'm claiming them. They're mine."

Pushing through the men standing between him and his family, Daryl put his back to the trio and stared Joe and his group down hard, hands clenching in nervous pulses on his crossbow. Worst case scenario, he could always delay the group, take as many out as he could, and scream for Rick to run, but it would be better if he could deter Joe's group without alerting Rick before things were settled.

Joe looked unimpressed or maybe that was his less than pleased facial expression. Daryl hardly knew him well enough to guess. "Daryl. I know you're new here. We've excused you're belligerence while you've settled in. Even took into consideration that one of our own was making it a little harder for ya than it had to be…but that man down there…he killed one of our own. For no good reason."

"How d'you know?" Daryl jerked his chin up a little to emphasize his point. "You said yerself you wasn't there. Maybe yer buddy Lou attacked him first."

Joe's mouth thinned. "He killed him, then left him to Turn. It was the same as setting one of them undead bastards on us himself." The old man paused and then cocked his head to the side. "What's it matter t' you anyway? You know them?"

Daryl shifted uneasily on his feet. Were he to tell the truth, it might just get him into the very mess of trouble he was trying to avoid. These weren't the types of men who going to be terribly tolerant. "There's a kid," he stalled. "You can' jus' go killin' people in front o' kids. What if that's his dad?"

Joe didn't lose that assessing look he wore when he was weighing a man's words versus his intent. It was the same look he'd worn before they'd killed the man who'd been riding Daryl from the minute he'd joined up with them. Daryl had never really learned the man's name. Hadn't cared to. Joe's eyes shifted around at the men around him and then back up to Daryl. It took a second for Daryl to realize the old man had focused his attention over Daryl's shoulder.

"Well, here's our chance to find out," Joe said and Daryl took a step then two more back, half lifting the crossbow. The other men seemed eager to raise there's but Joe taking a step forward kept them all only half raised.

"Remember I claimed them." The other men scowled or spit, plainly showing their distaste. Daryl mentally cursed them all. This rag tag bunch wasn't a wolf pack, he decided. Weren't noble enough for that, but a pack of rabid dogs was more like it. A pack of rabid dogs led by a mangy old wolf without a pack of his own until they'd all come along. There was no guarantee that they wouldn't turn on him. He was barely with them for a few days. "It's like you said. Rules're still rules, even if them rules've changed."

Damn, he'd sounded more desperate than he'd intended, but there was no taking it back now. Joe's eyes came back to Daryl their look piercing. "Tell me why this matters so much to you, Daryl."

Into Daryl's silence, one of the other men barked out a delighted laugh. "So, Len was right, poor sum bitch. It was a cunt that had you all worked up!"

It made him twitch to hear scum calling someone as caring and noble as Michonne a cunt, but he held his peace. Let them think what they would. It wouldn't matter much in the end because Daryl intended to be long gone in a very short period of time if he had his way, taking Rick, Michonne and Carl with him.

Joe cast the man a glance and he fell silent. When Joe's eyes came back to Daryl, he sighed. "I'm gonna bet my very best knife that that there is your people. The group you was with before we found you."

Daryl longed to glance over his shoulder and see where Rick, Michonne and Carl were. Instead he stared the group down as steadily as he could. "They's mine either way," he said voice firm. "Don' matter what they were before. Y'all said say claimed. I fuckin' said claimed. Don' reckon any o' you bastards claimed any killin' rights. That makes them mine."

"Looks like you're an inside cat after all," Joe noted on a wistful sigh. The other men all chuckled. Daryl still said nothing, but he did take another step back, risking a quick glance over his shoulder. Rick and Carl stood in between the train rails almost shoulder to shoulder with their weapons out. Rick held the Python low in both hands while Carl stood with his pistol drawn and held exactly as his father had taught him, mirroring Rick's posture. Michonne stood behind and between them, holding her sword with its tip pointed out to the side and toward the ground. At least he wasn't entirely on his own and four against five weren't bad odds.

After a moment, Joe took another step forward and Daryl raised his crossbow another couple inches closer to shooting position, taking another step back at the same time. When Joe stopped, Daryl froze. "Alright," Joe said, raising both hands in placating gesture. "Let's hear your friend's side of the story and see if killing Lou was justified. If we can agree that it was self-defense, I'll let them all go free. But! If he's guilty in the eyes of his peers, we'll have to teach him a lesson about killing one of ours."

Daryl stared at him for one moment more, then felt the dam inside him finally break. He'd had enough. Rick was so fucking close and these asshats expected him to let them decide if Rick was going to live or die. Like fucking hell.

He hadn't realized he'd growled that last sentence aloud until his arrow was lodged in Joe's forehead. Even as the man toppled to the ground, Daryl put himself in motion. The crossbow connected with the assault rifle the largest man in the group carried. The rifle went off, sending gravel and a few bullets bouncing, until Daryl knocked the man out with another swing of the crossbow. Gunfire from behind him had him moving again, watching out of the corner of his eye as Tony jerked then dropped with a bullet in his head and one in his chest. Rick wasn't messin' around and given the height of the first shot to hit, Carl was taking after his pa beautifully. Daryl's grin was a little grim and a little feral as he went after the skinny kid with the hunting rifle. The kid fell back, clearly not as seasoned as his compatriots with fighting someone like Daryl. The gunshots from behind him sounded closer as he brought the crossbow up into the kids face.

The last man was already down by the time Daryl had delivered the killing blow to the kid with his hunting knife. A final gunshot, the sound of the Python familiar in Daryl's ears, had Daryl rising to his feet and turning to face his family. Rick had just put down the fat man and was holstering his pistol when he finally looked up into Daryl's face.

"That all of'em?" Rick's voice was low and he looked Daryl right in the eye. Daryl had missed that level of trust. He stared right back and nodded.

"Yeah."

"Daryl!" Carl lunged forward, Michonne just strolling up to take his place as the boy launched himself at Daryl's middle. Her sword was sheathed, and Daryl noted she had no gun even as his hand came to rest on Carl's shoulder, squeezing gently in response to the hug. "You're alive!"

"Yeah," he answered his voice soft and amused. He looked up again as Rick neared them. Carl squeezed just a little tighter and then stepped back to let his dad in. Rick wrapped Daryl in a tight shoulder-popping hug that had the tracker wrapping his arms just as tightly around Rick's ribs. The man hissed and flinched and Daryl let up immediately, but Rick didn't pull away. "You look like shit, man."

Rick chuckled and buried his face against the side of Daryl's neck. Warm lips brushed repeatedly against his skin, and Daryl lowered his own mouth to rest lightly against the side of Rick's neck. Neither moved nor spoke for several long minutes. When at last Rick did pull away, it was to bring one hand to Daryl's face, cradling his cheek in one calloused hand and resting their foreheads together. Daryl just let his hands rest on Rick's hips and closed his eyes, savoring the nearness of someone so important to him that he'd never thought he'd see again.

"Did you know it was us?" Michonne asked softly into the stillness.

Daryl didn't move or open his eyes, but he did answer. "No. They told me about some asshole killing one o' their boys in some house and high tailing it so that they had to deal with their Turned buddy. I had no idea it was you they was after. I'da tried to throw 'em off yer track."

"Doesn't matter," Rick mumbled and slowly pulled away, opening his eyes and staring hard at Daryl, the thumb on his cheek swiping gently back and forth over the hollow of Daryl's cheek. "You're here now. That's what matters."

Carl holstered his own pistol and squatted down next to one of the men, starting to rifle through his pockets. "Have you seen any of the others?"

Shame and loss washed over him and Daryl dropped his eyes. Rick couldn't have missed the change in Daryl's emotional state staring at him like he was so it was no surprise when Rick ducked his head to meet Daryl's downcast gaze again. His thumb never stopped rubbing a warm path over Daryl's cheek. "Daryl?"

"Beth." It was so hard to say it out loud. He had tried not to think about it much since he'd found Joe's group, but with Rick and Carl and Michonne staring at him so intently he had no choice. "She was with me. Got taken by some assholes inna car. I had no way t' go after her. I ran 'til there was a fork in the road…that's when I met them."

The hand on his cheek slid to the back of his head and Rick pulled him right into his shoulder, holding him close. "It wasn't your fault," Rick told him firmly. "I know you did everythin' you could."

Michonne's hand landed on the back of Daryl's shoulder and Carl moved in to wrap his arms around both Daryl and Rick's waists hugging them. Daryl's eyes fell to the ground as he pressed into Rick, landing on the limp hand of one of the deceased men. This…This was the right place for him. Here. With Rick. With Rick's family. With their friends. With his family. He didn't belong with people like Joe, like Joe's group…like Merle any longer. Rick had changed him all the way down to his core.

Long fingers slid between his own over Rick's hip and Daryl gave them a welcoming squeeze. Rick pressed his lips into the side of Daryl's head and Daryl couldn't help but press closer. They'd have to leave soon. The gunfire was bound to bring Walkers sooner or later. But for right now, Daryl only cared that he was right where he belonged again.

Fin