(A/N: So, I just realized I took almost a year to post the prequel to the chapter I wrote. As an apology, here is another chapter. Two different Archer moments that revolve around him walking. Enjoy.)

At a year old, Archer Dixon was a deceivingly quick. His slight form made him as agile as his father. After crawling, his progress moved forward so rapidly, it astounded his parents. Judith, over a year older than her peer, walked past him squealing with glee. In her chubby fist was his favorite noisemaker. "Ju!" he protested loudly, holding out a hand. With the the most mischievous of smiles, she looked to his outstretched fist and then turned her back to him, continuing to shake the toy. Carol smiled at the sass of Rick's beautiful girl. Archer and Judith were a match made in heaven, all strength and attitude. They were constantly fighting one another, whether it be about the attention of a particular person or a toy they both valued.

When it came down to toys, Archer usually got the raw end of the deal because he couldn't move as fast on his hands and knees as Judith could on her feet. Carol was nearly done setting things up for dinner. She saw the pile of toys scattered around Archer and hoped his attention would be drawn to something else long enough to get her work done. He's Daryl's child. There is no way he'll let it go. A nagging whisper in the back of her mind echoed.

True to her thoughts, he whined. "Ju!...Ju! Mama! Ju!" he would alternate. She heard him shuffle on all fours towards Jude...and her subsequent giggle as she easily evaded. Carol let him protest away, finishing up her chore. It was when he went quiet, that she was suddenly worried. A silent child was trouble. She looked to the children and spotted Judith, her arm in constant motion with Archer's toy. Where the young boy had been sitting moments ago, a baby blanket lie covered in toys, but without a baby. Stumbling around, with new-found freedom, Archer ambled on both feet towards Judith.

Daryl and Rick chose that moment to walk into their food preparation room. "Look!" Carol cheered, directing their attention to Archer's first steps with a point.

"Atta boy!" Daryl whooped, Rick clapping him on the shoulder in a fatherly congratulations.

The scene slowed before Carol, her eyes narrowing on her son. Judith played away, obviously having forgotten him at his silence. And boy was he silent. Approaching her from the rear, as deadly stealthily as his father, and rapidly gaining momentum, Archer closed in. "Oh no," Carol said, moving forward to snatch him away.

All too quickly, Archer drew his arm back and slashed it through the air, a surprising sounding slap echoing in the concrete room. Judith's hand immediately went to her cheek, where contact had been made, a scream belting from her tiny lungs. Surprised by the shriek, Archer shuffled, not sure how to maintain balance. He lost his footing, toppling right into the toddler, which, in turn, gave him something to scream about. The two hit the ground just as Carol slid to their sides. She pulled her son from atop of Judith, placing the wailing child on her hip and helping the other to her feet. Rick was at her side instantly to soothe his daughter.

"I'm so sorry, Rick!" Carol apologized, helping dust off Judith. She tried to press her son to her chest, but he pulled away, catching the eyes of his father and reaching out.

"Papa!" he cried, both arms stretched to his father. Unable to hold back his smirk at his son's obvious affection for him, he moved towards his wife to hold him. As soon as the transfer was made, soft, tiny arms coiled firmly around the man's neck. His cries ceased to the occasional huff or grunt.

"Don't worry about it," Rick said to Carol, Judith steadily relaxing in his embrace. "Kids will be kids...and I'm sure she was the one to start it anyhow," he said with a cocked eyebrow.

"You need attitude like that in these gates. Especially as she gets older," Daryl said motioning to the girl. He shifted the boy in his arms, cradling him. "Ain't upset he packs a punch, just gotta teach him not to hit a lady."

"Yeah, he's definitely your son," Carol laughed teasing him.

"At least we know he'll be able to handle himself," he shrugged, still smirking.

After the incident with Judith, they'd taken to watching him like a hawk. His progress was coming along exponentially. Every day, someone walked him around the prison yard, letting him burn off some of the extra energy he'd seemed to be storing. Today, Daryl was accompanying his son on the grass around the crop-field. His little fist was wrapped around Daryl's index finger for extra balance, letting go when his father's pace became unsatisfactory.

"Easy, little man. Ain't no damn race," he said catching up.

"Tyke is movin' faster than me now-a-days!" a voice called to Daryl's left. He looked over and saw Hershel, making his way across the yard to the barbecue where lunch was about to be served. His eyes had only left Archer for a moment, but apparently that had been enough. The spot where he had just been was vacant.

"Ah, shit," he murmured looking around in a panic. "Archer!" he called out, hoping he'd respond in some way. He couldn't have gotten that far. A giggle sounded from the other side of the crops. "Jesus, you move quick kid."

Daryl moved around to the other side, where he saw his son, gripping the metal rungs of the inner fence. He looked through the holes at the undead that stood just on the outside of the outer fence. Daryl froze in place, watching how his son observed. These times, this age...how you reacted in front of a walker meant life or death. This was the closest the infant had ever been to one. At first, he didn't fear them. He looked more curious than anything. Separated by only a set of fences, he was able to see them closely, but safely.

After a moment, the boy cocked his head to the side and took a step back. The curious gaze on his face fell and he began to frown. If Daryl didn't know any better, he would say his son had just understood the nature of the dangerous creatures on the other side of the fence. Maybe the concept was a little too complex for him to truly comprehend, but somehow, Daryl knew. Archer had just realized that the walkers were once people, just like his Mama and Papa. This...this was a trait he had taken from Carol. Just over a year, this child had a wisdom that had stopped surprising his parents. Maybe he had Daryl's stubbornness and determination, but his brain...that was all his woman. Archer let out a dissatisfied squeal, stomping his feet. "Bad!"

"That's right bud," Daryl said approaching. Archer looked to his father, surprised at his seemingly sudden appearance, before looking back through the fence. He took another couple steps away before plopping on the ground and bursting into tears, quite suddenly. "Whoa," he said swooping him up. "You're alright."

This time, Archer was not satisfied in his father's arms, like he usually was. He squirmed, sinewy legs kicking and swinging about. "Mama! Want Mama!"

Daryl understood. He didn't know what Archer had taken from this little excursion, or what he'd retain about the creatures that had driven them to living as they did, but he needed the comfort of his mother right now...while he did remember. With his son still wriggling, he walked around the field headed straight to Carol, who had just handed over her grilling duties to one of the other women. "Ah, what's the matter baby boy?" She cooed as they approached.

Daryl didn't know how to explain what he'd seen take place. He didn't want to over-react about his son's actions, but he needed her to know, this wasn't plain fear. Upon seeing his mother, the boy dove from Daryl's arms into hers, resting against her chest. "He saw the walkers, on the outside fence," Daryl began.

"Ah, was he scared?" Carol said, nodding her head.

"Nah...he – I dunno. He was lookin' at em all funny for a bit. Then it's like...he knew what they were," he explained the best he could.

Carol's eyes grew wide and she stroked Archer's back, tightening her hold to him. "It's okay, baby. Let's go sit down inside." She reached across to Daryl, stoking him on the cheek and placing a light kiss on his lips. "I'm gonna get his mind off of things for a bit."

Daryl nodded and watched his wife and son walk towards the building. The crying had stopped, Archer having gotten exactly what he wanted and needed. He fixed himself a plate, ready to eat with the masses. He paused and after a moment, made a second plate. Then he followed the path Carol had taken. Times he got to watch Carol with their son, those were few and far between. Giving a nod to those he passed coming out for lunch, he entered the compound in search of his family.

(A/N: Yes, I know a one year old wouldn't necessarily be able to comprehend what was really going on with the walkers. I ask for suspension of disbelief. It's a freaking zombie-apocalypse. That being said, I hope you enjoyed. I had fun writing this one!)