Title: The Church
Summary: The group take shelter in a church for the night.
Notes: This set during the break between season 2 and 3.
Random one shot that just kinda happened and has no real point.

"God dammit,"

It seemed as if every pair of eyes in the room turned on him at his words, even though he'd spoke them quietly. Well dammit, they were taking refuge in a small church.

"Sorry," Daryl mumbled turning his attention away from them.

It was getting late and they planned to sleep inside the church. With the winter months setting in, they couldn't afford to sleep outside. The nights were too cold. The church wasn't much better, but it gave them some shelter.

Daryl sat on one of the pews as the others carried their few belongings inside with them. Daryl kept it simple, kept the essentials with him at all times and anything that could be forgotten stayed on the bike.

He tried to stay unnoticed where he sat as the others set themselves up in a little semi-circle near the front of the church. But he knew it wouldn't last long.

If he'd been paying more attention to the group, he'd have known that it was Maggie who first noticed him and had discreetly had a word with her Father. He came other to the younger man when everyone else was busy enough to miss their interaction.

"Want me to take a look at that?" Hershel offered, unsure of the wound but knowing enough.

"Nah, it's nothin,'" Daryl insisted, hoping that Hershel wouldn't kick up a fuss. The fact they hadn't encountered any walkers for days and this was fresh also helped. They had no reason to worry about it being a bite.

Hershel could see the bloodstained cloth that Daryl was holding to to the wound. It was saturated enough that he was worried but he also thought Daryl was smart enough to know when he needed help.
That was what he hoped anyway.

Hershel returned to the little group and Daryl stayed where he was.

He removed the shirt that he was using to stem the flow and tried to get a look at the wound. It was high up on the inside of his thigh and it was deep and truth be told, now that he had a little time to consider it, he was certain that there was something still buried in there.

He'd let Glenn and T Dog check over the other rooms this time and now he needed to know what they'd found.

"Hey, T?" He called out and when the other man looked over to him, Daryl beckoned him.

His eyes dropped to the gash on Daryl's leg almost immediately. "Oh man, why don't you get Hershel to look at that?"

Daryl felt a slight blush creep across his face. Couldn't have been in a worse position really. He grabbed the old shirt again and pressed it back on the wound, wincing slightly at his own heavy handedness in the face of embarrassment.

"It's fine. I can sort it and if I can't, then I'll get Hershel." Daryl assured him. Changing the topic back to what he'd called T Dog over for he indicated to the two doors at the back of the building. "What's through those?"

"Door to the right has a rear exit from the church, bathroom all that jazz. The other door just goes to an office."

"Great, I'll use the office then."

"Seriously man, just get Hershel to do it," T Dog said again.

"Ain't no man getting that close to my happy place, thank you very much," Daryl said, standing up.

T Dog laughed at that. "Man's a vet, you think he ain't seen it all and more?" T Dog and Daryl both stepped into the aisle.

"Well he ain't gonna see mine. He'll have to make do with all the sheep balls to keep him going," Daryl said. Daryl side stepped T and caught the group staring at the pair with a mixture of amused and confused looks.

Daryl made a mental note to keep his mouth shut in the church for a while.

Daryl made his way to the office, locking the behind him to make sure no one could catch him with his pants down. Literally.

He took out his knife and placed it on the desk before undoing his belt and dropping his pants. He sat on the desk, picking up the knife as he prodded the wound.
This wouldn't be pleasant but it had to be done. He carefully slipped the knife into his flesh and dug until he felt the knife hit something it shouldn't. He managed to dig out a large chunk of wood that had embedded in his inner thigh and put it to one side. He knew he needed to wash the wound out but he didn't think to bring any water in with him. He slipped himself off the table and made his way over to the door.

He unlocked it and peeked his head out, hiding himself behind the door. "Hey, can someone get me some water?"

Carol practically jumped to her feet and rushed off to get his water.

"You sure you don't need any help in there?" Maggie asked.

"'m fine," Daryl insisted.

"You got bandages?" Hershel asked. Daryl's silence spoke volumes. "What did you take in with you?"

"Carl, take Hershel's bag over to Daryl please?" Lori asked. Carl grabbed Hershel's limited medical supplies and handed them through the small gap Daryl left in the door.

"Can I see?" Carl asked, trying to poke his head through the door, which Daryl closed slightly.

"Hey, back off, kid." Daryl said.

"Carl!" Lori warned.

"Carl, give Daryl the bag and leave him alone," Rick added. His tone no nonsense.

Carl dropped the bag on the floor and huffed away, sitting back over with the group.

Daryl picked it up just as Carol returned with a glass of water. "Here," she said thrusting it into his hands.

"You need help?" she asked. He shook his head.

"I'm good. Er, thanks." He said as he closed and locked the door again.

He staggered back over to the desk and sat back on it. He poured the water on the wound, flushing some of the splinters out. He dug around with his knife again, trying to make sure it was clean and the best he could tell, it was clear. A sudden thump at the door and the knife slipped as he jolted at the noise.

"Fuck," Daryl cursed.

He heard some muttering from the other room and anger simmered slightly. "What the hell you doin' out there?" he called, but the group ignored him and he had a sudden flash of panic that maybe something was wrong out there and he staggered over to the door, pulling his pants back up, barely registering that his wound was gushing blood more than before.

Daryl unlocked the door and opened it quickly, knife still in hand as he prepared for some terrible life threatening situation to confront him.

Instead he was met with Glenn slumped in front of the door he just opened, Maggie supporting him with a hand round his shoulder as Glenn rubbed his head.

"I tripped over a bag, sorry man," Glenn said, his back to Daryl.

Maggie looked up to Daryl as she went to smile an apology at him but her eyes only made it half way up before she stopped at the tear in Daryl's pants and the material was sodden through now. "Oh my gosh, Daryl!" she exclaimed.

Daryl looked down. "Yeah..." he said, "Was trying to pick the wound clean.." He stumbled quickly back to the desk and sat on it, applying pressure, hoping to slow the bleeding down again.

"Daddy," Maggie called, even though the vet was half way into the room already. As were most of the group by now.

Daryl frowned at the group. "Hey, what am I, a freak show attraction?"

Hershel already had his hands pressed on top of Daryl's pushing down before he took a quick glance back into the room. "He's right, we don't need a crowd in here. If I need some help, I'll holler. And shut the door on the way out," Hershel said simply.

Rick hadn't ventured past the door and waited for the others to file back out before he pulled it closed.

When Daryl saw the door close, he pushed himself up slightly and unfastened his trousers, sliding them down his legs a little so Hershel was able to see the wound.

If it had been anyone other than Hershel, he's have been mortified at the prospect at this, but it wasn't like the man hadn't stitched him up before and he knew he needed someone's help with this. He might have managed before but seeing as he'd just made the situation worse, he'd have to give in this once.

Hershel pressed the cloth and looked up to Daryl, face serious.

"You realise how close you were to the femoral artery, don't you?"

"If I got that I'd be dead already," Daryl said. He might have made the thing worse but it wasn't that bad.

Hershel pulled away his hand and Daryl did too. The wound bleed sluggishly still but the flow was slower. Hershel rifled through his kit until he pulled out a needle and thread and used it to bind Daryl's wound.

Once he was finished he got the thread and then taped some gauze over the stitches and wrapped a bandage over the top, doing what he could to keep the wound clean and free from infection.

He couldn't help notice the scars that were across his legs, even with only a small amount of skin showing. He understood why Daryl had tried to sort the problem out alone.

He'd already seen enough of Daryl's scars when he'd stitched him up after his accident when they were back on the farm. It wasn't his business then and it wasn't now either.

He knew Daryl well enough to know that talking about himself wasn't high on his list. Many days the sat round the camp fires together since the farm and Daryl found new ways to get himself out of a discussion he didn't want to take part in every time.

When it wasn't too personal, too risky for him, he did join in. But he'd noticed the conversations about childhood and growing up were often ones he sat out on. And seeing as Hershel himself often had his fair share of miserable childhood stories, he opted to start bailing him out on occasion, starting a different conversation between the two of them about something else. Something more trivial. The group continued with their chatter and he and Daryl got to know one another better too.

"All done," Hershel said.

"Thanks," Daryl muttered, pulling his pants back up quickly.

"You know you would have been better off getting me to do that in the first place, right?"

Daryl shrugged. "I'm a stubborn sonofabitch," he smiled slightly and Hershel just shook his head and headed to the door.

Hershel left the room, keeping the door open behind him seeing as Daryl was now decent and Daryl could hear the old vet telling the others everything was fine.

When Daryl eventually left the room to join the others, he found Lori and Carol, sat together, Hershel not far from them. The others were gathered around a small fire as they cooked dinner for everyone while Rick lingered around by the door of the church.

He went down to Rick. "Hey, why don't you grab some food, I'll keep watch." he offered.

"Being the injured party, shouldn't you be resting," Rick argued.

"It'll just stiffen up if I sit down now. I'd rather stay on my feet a while," Daryl explained.

Rick nodded. "Okay, but Glenn and T Dog'll take watch tonight. You get some rest."

Daryl nodded and watched Rick join back with the rest of the group. He watched outside the church and relished in the sound of the voices behind him. They were a happy, mismatch group, but they worked.

Somehow, a strange mix of two families and a handful of spares... it worked. They gelled somehow.

And as he kept watch, he could help but smile.

Dammit, if he hadn't found a place to belong.