Author's Note: Just a short little one-shot that I wrote yesterday while procrastinating working on my WIP. Come on though guys! Who isn't distracted by Daryl and LA? Unbeta'd and feedback is always lovely :)

"She's cryin' again." Daryl rubbed his face. The exhaustion was showing clearly. It was the long sleepless nights and even longer days. "I fed her," he paused to smirk, "we got Carl to change her, we've all been takin' turns walkin' her. She just won't sleep 'less she's movin'."

Hershel smiled gently, "I used to put Maggie and Beth in the back of the car and drive around town."

"Can't go wastin' fuel ol'man." The redneck threw his hands up in the air. "We're damn lucky we got these walls 'round us. If we were out there…" Daryl trailed of darkly. "FUCK! Just need to catch some shut-eye."

Hershel understood, they were all exhausted and Rick was still grieving. When their leader had finally crawled out of the depths of the prison he was blood-covered, crazy-eyed and bone-weary. No one wanted to push him over the edge and worrying over his baby girl was going to do just that. Daryl had stepped up though, taken the burden of everyone onto his shoulders. Hell, he'd taken over motivating the whole group. He kept the group out making runs; slowly built up his trust in the prisoners and brought them into the fold; and made sure everyone was well fed, clothed and comfortable. Mostly though he'd become surrogate daddy for that little girl.

There was a sparkle in his eyes when he looked at her that no one wanted to point out for fear that Daryl would punch them in the face about it. The times he'd spent rocking, and cooing and just generally enraptured with the baby, everyone knew he thought of himself just as much her guardian as Rick did. Daryl had changed since he and his brother wedged themselves into camp. This baby was his second chance. Someone who had never been alive to know him as poor, redneck white trash.

She was everyone's chance at a new life, a new world where people were born instead of dying.

"Stay tomorrow," Hershel suggested, gently. "You've been out twice as many times as everyone else. Get some sleep."

"An' who's gonna get more formula. Diapers. Hell, we all need food."

"It's not just on you, son." The old man reached out to pat Daryl shoulder but he lurched out of the way. From a few cells away the wail started again and Daryl's head shot up.

"Gotta go get the kid. Guess she's sick of Glenn."

—-

The next morning when Maggie was starting the car and Glenn was double checking fuel tanks and ammo for the trip, Daryl suggested that Axel go. He'd taken Oscar with him twice the week before and it was about time that Axel started pulling his weight as well.

"No-no problem, man." The white-haired convict had stuttered out. "Jus-just wanna help out. Do my p-p-part."

"Good," Daryl grunted, leaning over to pluck the baby out of her brother's arms. "We don't need anymore dead weight," He narrowed his eyes dangerously, "do we?"

Quickly Axel shook his head.

—-

Carol watched Daryl from the doorway for a few minutes before she spoke, not wanting to startle him. "They're back," she whispered. "want me to take her for a few? You can go see what they brought back."

Daryl had the baby bundled up in about four blankets and secured to his chest with another in a makeshift sling so he still had use of his arms. Back and forth he'd paced the room for the three hours that the scavenging group had been gone. "She's sleepin'." He mumbled, eyes heavy and starting to droop. "Second I stop walkin' she'll be up an' I ain't sure how to get her outta this thing without stoppin'."

"Okay, if you need a break though, I can take her. Sophia was the same way. Too much shouting when she was little, always needed skin and lots of rocking to get her to sleep." Carol gave him a watery smile and Daryl nodded in response. Since she'd come back from that storage room, Carol had slowly been opening up about her life before all of this shit. Something about needing it to be remembered when she wasn't there anymore. There'd been a bunch of page-a-day calender quote bullshit that had gone along with it. Something about dying twice. Daryl didn't get that, he was about ready for everyone to just forget who he was before everything had happened. Just forget that he was Merle's brother and the son of a drunk and a whore who'd burned herself alive smoking and drinking cheap wine in bed.

"Jus' go. I got 'er." Daryl shifted the eight or so pounds of dead weight on his chest. He didn't know how much she'd weight when she was born but that baby was sure as shit getting heavier. That was a good thing though, she was growing up.

"Hey Carol. Daryl." Axel's voice made Daryl jump a little bit. He hadn't been expecting the old man to report back to him or anything. Just needed someone else to go along to watch Shortround and Calamity Jane so they didn't use the scavenging trip as a chance to start practising making a baby of their own. "I-I-I brought the baby something."

"Well go on." Daryl grunted. He didn't need this noise waking up the baby when she was finally out cold.

"My daughter said she read it to her son. I didn't even get to see him. Just pictures. I barely even saw my daughter at his age. Was locked up most of her life. She still visited me on Father's Day though, and my birthday. Every year like clockwork. She was a good girl. Married, good job, sweet little baby. I've got a picture if you wanna see…"

"Ya mind gettin' on with it." This goddamn rambling!

"Oh-um, here." Axel thrust the book at Daryl. It was thin, the cover dark. A children's book.

"The hell?"

Carol was smiling now, pinching her lips together to fight it. "Appropriate, Axel."

"I thought so," the convict grinned and blushed, dropping his head. "Well I'm gonna go. Help unpack, you know." He left the cell quickly, scuttling away like the nervous little bug he was.

"I ain't readin' her shit."

Carol's smile broke through. "Okay, Daryl," she nodded, "whatever you think works."

"Screw off."

"Gladly." She winked and turned away. "I'll be back in a bit once we wrestle some dinner together."

Daryl flipped her off as she left.

A book. A good damn children's book. The hell was he supposed to do with that? Daryl squinted down at the cover and frowned. What the hell kinda person was Axel? Couldn't read this book to a baby. That shit weren't right.

Daryl flipped to the first page. His eyes scanning the illustrations and text. As his sleep deprived mind struggled to translate the words, he found himself thinking this weren't so bad. Sure as hell summed up how he was feeling. Carefully, he lowered himself onto the bottom bunk of his bed. He'd started sleeping in a cage when the baby'd come along. The three concrete walls dulled sound and if they hung blankets across the bars it stopped her wails from echoing so much.

The little body gave a whimper as he got comfortable but Daryl shushed her, rubbing his thumb along her cheek. "The cats nes-nestle close to their kittens." Daryl cleared his throat. Fuck he hated reading. Ever since elementary school. "The lambs have laid down with the sheep." He sucked in a breath as tiny puffs of baby air tickled his neck. So far so good. "You're cozy an' warm in my bed, sweetheart," Daryl amended the text chuckling quietly to himself. Who ever had written this book had fun with it, so why shouldn't he.

"Please go the fuck to sleep."