Noxi: I hadn't been sure I was ever going to return to this fic, and it's been an incredibly long time since I last wrote for it. Unfortunately (fortunately?) my writing has also changed, affecting the tone of the story. This chapter is proof of that, and I am currently in the process of editing the others. An arduous journey to be sure. Hopefully you all enjoy the change, as I do.

Disclaimer: The Walking Dead and all affiliates belong to Kirkman and AMC.

x Second week of November x

She pulled her scarf tighter around her neck, smiling into the warm wool that tickled her skin. Her mother had knitted it for her during their last winter, when the snows had built so high they couldn't leave without being buried in it. It was almost too cold to be outside, but it wasn't enough to stop her, breath forming like clouds in front of her face every time she exhaled. She watched Tiger Lily take a turn around the yard, easy and slow. It was as if she was still acquainting herself with this new world she had been brought into. Sophia loved watching her. She was beautiful and proud, but held a gentleness in her eyes that reminded her of her mother.

"She doesn't move like the others."

She glanced up to the man at her side, his ragged face drawn tight. His arms were crossed over his chest, body still stiff with the healing wound at his side. Once she had been frightened of him, of the look in his eyes. It reminded her of a scared dog who had too many scars, physical and emotional, who might bite her if given the chance. She didn't know how anyone could look like that, but she saw it. He seemed to keep a lot of secrets but he couldn't hide how he felt. She'd been watching people her whole life, and that wasn't a long time, but she knew. Her mom had never been able to hide the feelings from her eyes either. But now he was a man she wanted to know, wanted to be friends with. He was mysterious, but sad. When she watched him she wanted to take his hand.

She leaned forward against the fence, resting her chin along the wood, eyes back on Tiger Lily. Sophia figured he meant she didn't move like she was frightened. She was grateful for that. It meant that she hadn't lost hope and faith, enough that the evils of this world wouldn't stop her from seeing the good that was still there.

"She's old, but strong. Her heart has lived through enough to remember that there is always good left somewhere. At least, that's what mom says." She smiled, remembered her mom brushing Tiger Lily down, the gentlest look on her face, as if she were born to love. Sophia loved that look. Loved that her mother wasn't drowning in the despair that her father had once been forcing her under.

"She's not scared?"

It was both an observation and a question. But she watched her mother smile, patient and understanding. Her mom ran her hand along Tiger Lily's face, those gentle eyes of hers pointed at the horse standing before her. She loved watching her mother tend to the horses. It always left a feeling of peace and safety in her.

"She's old, but strong. New experiences are easier to take in stride once you have lived. And she knows that while there is always bad, there is also good."

She didn't know if her mother was talking about Tiger Lily, or herself. But she had seemed so certain that horses experienced life as they did, both suffering and joy in all forms. Sophia had not thought that horses had the ability to know the difference and to retain those feelings. But she found she wanted to believe, as her mother did, that even animals had the ability to see the good even when all they had was bad.

She glanced behind her, seeking out her mother's figure in the fading sunlight, a swash of orange and purple painted across the sky. She found that, somehow, the sunset's were always so much clearer, much more beautiful in winter than they ever appeared. She wondered if that was the world's way of reminding them that despite the snow's ability to hide the world away for months at a time, that there was still beauty to be seen.

She spotted her mother as the sun's light hit the porch, lighting up the red wood as if it were on fire. Her mother was in the kitchen, preparing dinner.

Things had changed once Daryl had decided to stay. But it hadn't seemed like a bad change. It was as if they were all starting new. And she was glad to see her mother content, her face brighter than ever, as if the shadows had been cast aside. She would forever be grateful that Daryl's arrival had given her mother a different future.

She turned back to watching Tiger Lily and laid her head against Daryl's arm. He stiffened beneath her but didn't pull away. Whoever this man had been, he was here now. And he had given them hope.

x October. One month earlier x

She burned the whip. Chopped it in half with the axe and tossed it into the fire, watching it burn to ash. She could taste the smoke in her mouth as darkness descended and she continued to watch, as the last embers smoked out, along with her once future.

She was alone now.

Alone and broken, and used and there was nothing she could change about that. Her life was gone now. Taken by a man she had thought was her purpose, and fooled into losing control of the one thing that had ever mattered; her life.

She couldn't see anything before. With Ed, she had purpose. Without Ed she was...what? A waning shadow? A lost soul? A haunted figure? She buried her face in her hands, absent of tears, and told herself to breath.

Ed wasn't her purpose. He was just an obstacle in her way, and now she was free of him. She told herself to push away the fear that weighed on her chest, and to grasp her freedom instead of cling to her chains.

But it wasn't easy to let go of everything that had defined you. Who was she now? Who had she been before? What would she do now? Could she even do this on her own? It plagued her while she lay in bed, listening to Ed whisper in her ear about all of the fucked up things she'd done. About how she'd fail without him.

He was an infection, a virus that she couldn't shake. He was the shadow looming over her, even now that he was dead, blocking out the sun. He was the chains attached to her ankles, keeping her locked like this, unable to walk forward. He was standing behind her, fingers digging viciously into her shoulders as he breathed, hot and wet onto her face.

He was still there, even though he was dead.

And she didn't know how to shake him.

x November x

Daryl stood before the front door, hand outstretched to the handle, listening to the clinking sounds of dishes. Dale's voice praising Carol on the spread before him, Sophia laughing gently. Just a month ago this had seemed impossible. Just a month ago, he had nearly left it all.

"The house is always open. If you ever need anything, anything at all, please let me know. My home is yours."

He can still hear her voice, quiet. But he couldn't mistake the tone of sorrow laced in her words, as if she didn't know what she was going to do. As if everything had destroyed a part of her. Something about it all made him want to stay and fix it. A feeling he was quick to deny.

He still didn't feel comfortable walking into that house as if he belonged there, like it was his. She had told him as much, but that didn't make it so. It felt as if he was forcing himself into a puzzle he didn't belong in. It was uncomfortable. But he couldn't ignore the pull he felt toward those voices, like he wanted to see just what was possible. Sophia's words filled his mind, like soothing waters.

"I want to believe like mom does. That we can still find good in spite of all the bad that has happened. It makes everything a lot better if you ask me."

Could he just walk away from an opportunity like this? Was it right of him to take advantage of their kindness?

He wrapped his fingers into a fist, scars white against his bronzed skin from days spent under the winter sun, and he knocked.

x October x

Introducing Daryl to the horses was a sight. He was still in pain, still limped wherever he went, holding his side tight. But he didn't let that stop him from doing whatever he could around the ranch. Until Dale told him he would introduce him to the horses. The look on his face, something akin to fear and determination, made him laugh. For all that Daryl acted tough and detached, he could still be afraid.

But it wasn't just the pain that kept Daryl quiet, subdued. He walked around as if he couldn't relax, as if settling into this place meant revealing his secrets. He wore his disinterest like a badge, like that would deter anyone from trying to get too close. As if he would leave at any time. Dale doubted he would. His choice to stay spoke more than his act to leave. If a man was willing to put aside all the shit he'd just gone through, and stick around a place that nearly ruined his life, it meant that he still wanted something. Or perhaps he needed it. Whatever the reason, Dale was happy to see him there.

Besides the fact that they needed the help, because they sorely did, it was that Dale saw someone who could use a place like this. This land had a strange way of healing the demons that you kept locked up tight. It was a warm embrace that spoke of love and acceptance. He had always been glad that Carol had found her way here. Even if she spent her life with Ed, she had this. It wasn't a consolation, but it was something.

He stared out at the expanse of land, frost painting the ground. It was cold, a warning that winter was coming quick, and the land was dying around them. But it still held the same beauty it always did. The mountains peeking across the horizon. The river bubbling nearby, softer now as the water froze. The cattle grazing for miles to see, the horses prancing across the field. There was so much freedom to be had here. Maybe it had taken years for these two to find there way here, maybe they had to suffer countless times to get here. But this place was a sanctuary where they could heal and learn to live again.

He was sure of it.

x November x

The knock at the door brought a small smile to her face as she placed the casserole on the table, only half-listening to Dale and Sophia talk about the first snows. She could remember Daryl's face the morning of the first fall. She had walked out in her socks, and a chill had crawled up her spine as the cold hit her toes. She'd pulled her sweater tighter around her shoulders, as she stared up at the morning sky, a cold fog dissipating in the sunlight. Sophia burst through the door behind her, shouts of joy filling the air, her own feet clad only in socks. She twirled, arms stretched out and mouth open wide to catch the flakes as they fell. Carol's smile nearly tore her face in two.

It was only when she looked up and caught Daryl standing in the doorway of the cabin that she burst out laughing, her lungs aching. Sophia had stopped spinning to stare at her, and turned until she too saw Daryl's expression.

It was as if he had never seen snow in his entire life.

He stared up at the sky in amazement, wonder clear in his eyes as his mouth popped open. She had never seen such childlike innocence in a man's expression. And he'd hate her for it later, but she found it lifting her spirits. He was enraptured by the white crystals falling from the sky, his hand even reaching out before him to feel the snow on his skin. She missed that kind of wonder, missed the joy of seeing something for the first time. And it made her happy.

Once he'd heard her laughter he'd reigned in his surprise, the familiar scowl back on his face as he turned his back on her. She pressed her hand to her mouth as he stormed back into the cabin. She apologized later, but he seemed less concerned about it. She wondered if he was too enchanted by the white that covered the land around them to care what she thought. She realized that there was so much to discover about Daryl Dixon, and that possibility filled her with a joy she had not felt in years.

Fingers gripped the handle and she took a deep breath as she pulled open the door, smiling through the screen. She pushed it open, and gestured Daryl to come inside. He hesitated, chewing his bottom lip as he contemplated his choice. After a long pause he stepped over the threshold, nodding to her as he went by. She ducked her head, hiding the pleased smile as he stepped into the kitchen. Dale and Sophia greeted him warmly and she heard his grunt of greeting in return.

She pushed the door shut against the cold.

x October x

Finding his place in their world was hard. He didn't know what he was supposed to do, or how he should act. There was still pain in his side and he didn't like how that restricted his activity. He only truly felt useful when he was contributing. The nagging guilt and fear ate at him, like he was going to be punished for slacking. If he didn't work, he didn't eat. If he didn't take care of himself, no one would. Years of that thinking had been ingrained in his mind. It had made him who he was today. Dale was constantly reassuring him that he could rest, that he and Carol could handle the work load until he was ready.

But Daryl could see them struggle to keep up with their work. The cattle proved to be the most difficult. The pastures were dying and soon feed would be required, and they would need to be herded into safety. The terminal breeds, or cattle meant for meat, were already gone and sold. What was left were the calves, and the maternal cattle. They comprised about half of what was left. Most were pregnant and would give birth in the spring. He wasn't sure what he would do when that time came. He watched them pack it into a silo, their movements getting more frantic as the days passed. He could remember Dale listing off the ingredients used to feed the cattle; hay or grass, grains such as corn, barley or oats, soybeans, and a few other fillers. Horses also ate a similar feed with other additives, several times a day. He was baffled by the amount of time and effort spent on a ranch. And he was overcome with the gravity of it all. This place required dedication. It made him realize that Carol was more than she appeared.

He didn't know how much they had stored away but he hoped it was enough to last the winter, what he heard was long and difficult. He'd never had winter in Georgia. It got cold, of course. But that wasn't the same as snow. Snow was as foreign to him as a country across the ocean. Far off, more like a dream than anything tangible.

He promised himself he would try. Try to live in this place, fit himself somewhere in this world. He wanted to know if this could be a home for him, if he could have here what he had always wanted. It seemed impossible. He didn't know what it was he truly wanted, but something compelled him to stay. It wasn't as if he gained anything by leaving. But mostly, he wanted to know what love looked like. Knew that if he stayed he would witness it between Carol and Sophia.

Love as acceptance and kindness without any expectations, to be treated as an equal. To know what it was like to be cared for, without wondering what it would require of him in return. He had never been shown love, whatever it meant. That was the hardest thing to admit to himself. He didn't know what love was, how it was given or received, who to expect it from. Was it like his brother said? The deep, throaty moan in the middle of the night, or the high of a chemical that altered his brain. Or as his father seemed to express in his claim on his life, the alcohol he drank every day as if a prayer, the sound of his own laughter as he spat another insult. Or was it as his mother explained when he was so small all he could remember was how she had once been taller than him as he looked up into her gray eyes. That love was a fleeting feeling, one of joy and pleasure and a high that couldn't be replicated with drugs or booze. It was as if you were falling from the sky, plummeting to your death at the same time as you felt the wind on your face and watched the sky slip through your fingers and the earth rush up to meet you. All so beautiful and frightening at the same time. It was all so skewed. He didn't know what to think of it all. Didn't know which perception was right and who was wrong. Or if it was all right.

But more than anything he just wanted to be.

He stared down at the shovel in his hand, and the stench of shit filling his nose, and for once he didn't hate it. Didn't feel the same disgust as when he had to clean the filth that was his father. This was work that helped an animal. An animal that, without him, would not survive in this world. That kind of feeling left him stunned. He had never been needed before, didn't know how to react to it.

So he simply let it be, bending with a wince as he shoveled the shit and hay out of the stall, allowing the silence and the simple act lull him into a quiet that he had never experienced.

x November x

Dale watched as Daryl stood in the doorway, awkwardly, fidgeting with the hem of his leather jacket. Carol appeared behind his shoulder and he jumped to move out of her way. Dale couldn't help the chuckle as he watched this skittish man attempt to maneuver through a place he had probably never witnessed before. He pointed to the empty seat next to him, brows arched in expectation. Daryl chewed his bottom lip as his gaze moved from his, to Sophia and on to Carol. Carol nodded toward the same seat and he reluctantly moved to it.

Sophia's smile was broad, her features alight in a way that Dale had never seen before except when she was with Carol or Bluebird. And while Daryl's leg bobbed an uncomfortable rhythm beneath the table he watched as the two women slipped into an ease that they had shown with each other. It was a quiet acceptance that Daryl was welcome here, thought of as more than just a stranger who worked for them. He didn't know if Daryl would ever realize that but Dale was content to watch this tiny, mismatched group come together.

x October x

She'd been bringing Daryl food as often as she could, mostly because he refused to eat at the house, and partly because she wanted to see him. Her mom seemed to accept that she was persistent in this, in attempting to make Daryl feel at home. She wasn't at first. Her eyes cast in worry as she watched her spend more and more time with him. But all Sophia wanted was to know him. He had saved her after all. He'd brought her back home and stayed with them when he could have left. She'd never met a man like him. Someone who seemed loyal and kind, underneath a harsh exterior of anger and bitterness. She wondered if he was hiding a darkness inside. She wondered if he was sad, or angry, happy or annoyed. He stayed here so he must have felt something.

He was a mystery she wanted to solve, like one of her Nancy Drew books. She was Nancy and he was the mystery. He might laugh at her if she told him so. And then she realized she wanted to know what his laugh was like. Did he ever smile? Did he ever cry? Did he really know what it was like to live as they did, in fear?

Questions she would never have answered if she didn't try to get to know him better. He was resistant at first. He would ignore her questions, her attempts to converse with him. She was almost discouraged, almost gave up as the days wore on and he continued to say nothing. But there was a gleam in his eyes, one she thought mirrored her own curiosity. She soon found him in the quiet places, places she and her mother would have been drawn too. In the loft above the stalls. At the farthest part of the pen, watching the sun drift below the horizon. Sitting in the pasture as the cattle moved about, oblivious to his presence. He was different and she liked that. He was silent in a world that was screaming, always in thought while she chattered on. It wasn't long before she found herself just sitting at his side, watching the world through his eyes, drawn to how he perceived things. And it was only then that he would start to talk. An observation about the sound of the river resembling the one near his own home. The way the mountains made him feel small and insignificant. The way the smell of her mother's food warmed him inside. The soft bed he slept on in the cabin, a space he could call his own. The way Vangeline would purr as he petted her head, the way it would calm him as much as it pleased her.

Tiny, insignificant details. But they weren't. They told her a lot more about Daryl than any factual questions she could have asked. He was thoughtful and smart, kind despite the pain she saw in his eyes, strong even when he hunched under the weight of his secrets. And he treated her like an equal, not like a kid, not like she couldn't understand his words. It made her fond of him. Even when he snapped at her, even when his words were biting she sensed his guilt, as if that was a natural reaction that he couldn't stop.

More than anything, she just wanted to be his friend.

x November x

She sat down at the table after the few awkward exchanges were made. Sophia was a tether that kept them all tied together. She had been spending much of her time in Daryl's company and she sensed it had been good for both of them. She had been worried at first, but found that it wouldn't hurt.

She passed the dish to Dale who was speaking but she wasn't hearing. Sophia laughed, gesturing toward Daryl and he scowled, his grunt piercing through her thoughts. She smiled as she watched this moment of normality settled among them. It wasn't perfect, and it wasn't awful. But it was a start to something better. A place she could nearly see.

She had thought she would never be able to free herself of Ed. That she was nothing without him, shackled to him, dead or not. But it was Dale's constant presence that kept her steady. His easy flow into this new world without Ed. He was the foundation she could rely on to keep her moving forward. And it was Sophia's constant faith that kept her alive. Her inherent ability to see the good in everything, to find the beauty in a world that had once been filled with darkness. She was a beacon in Carol's darkness, the lighthouse that kept her on course. And it was Daryl who helped her rediscover herself. His presence her constant reminder that there was life beyond Ed and this ranch. That there were people in this world that hadn't been a part of hers. Someone who knew her not as Carol Peletier but just as Carol. The woman who owned this ranch. The woman who had hired him. The woman who had survived an abusive man, and pushed herself through his death. She was strong. A survivor. He was her realization that she was capable of anything. She only had to believe.

Her eyes burned in gratitude, and she almost sent a prayer to God. But it was her strength that had gotten her this far. Her perseverance had saved her. Her own will to live. Whatever she had been, she wasn't just that woman any longer. And she wanted to know who else lived inside her, waiting to be seen.

She watched Daryl's face contort in embarrassment as Sophia and Dale laughed. And Carol smiled at this moment of happiness that she would hold onto. Nothing would come easy, or quickly. But she was willing to wait.

One step at a time, she told herself.

A/N: The more I wrote Sophia the more I realized my writing perceives her far more intelligent than any twelve year old might be. But I like that her wisdom stems from her observation of the world. I tried to keep a sense of childish curiosity in there, though it might not have worked (ha). This might also seem like an ending but it's not meant to be. More, a step in a new direction for them all. Regardless, I hope you enjoyed this. Far shorter than the others, but I think a good start back. Thank you for reading my friends.