Chapter Text
For a moment it’s like he freezes in place, feet stuck to the floor, one hand wrapped around his knife, with the thumb of his other hand wedged in his mouth. He’d been ready to take out walkers, just walkers, not two walkers and a lady with a sword. The rules were to stay hidden and come home if he saw anybody else who wasn’t a walker. But he can’t do that now, not now that she’s seen him too. She is similarly frozen in place, staring up at him with a look of fear, her sword drawn and pointed right at him.
Daryl isn’t sure what the hell to do. Walkers were fine, he could deal with walkers because even if he didn’t like it, he just had to stab them in the head, put them to sleep and then go home. Nothing too confusing about that. But people, he didn’t know what to do with people. Shane had helped, Shane had warned him and told him about the new rules, to stay hidden, to report anybody he saw and be wary of them all. Because people were dangerous now. Just like they were dangerous and fighting to stay alive and safe as a family, so were other people, and they might not be so friendly to them. So he was supposed to stay hidden and go home.
He’d already broken the rules without even meaning to.
That alone makes him feel uneasy, and if he didn’t have his thumb in his mouth already, it would be making its way there to help sooth his worries anyway. As it is he sucks a little harder, and lets his raised arm with the knife lower down to his side. When his feet finally unstick from the floor, he shifts in place, feeling on edge as they stare each other down. He doesn’t like it. He doesn’t like it one bit. But he doesn’t know what to do either.
The walkers growl, gurgling in their throats and when Daryl’s attention is turned to them he frowns a little. They’re different from regular walkers, because they don’t have arms, or a lower jaw. It’s like they fell off or something. He’s seen some walkers with no legs, or bits and pieces falling off, but none that looked the exact same. Like it was deliberate. Like somebody had made them look that way. Plus they’ve got chains on them. Like leashes or something being held by the lady with the sword. It’s weird, it’s not something he’s seen before, and Daryl can’t help but shuffle in place as he tries to work it out.
“They pets?” He asks, the words slurred around his thumb, but there, clear enough and obviously heard by the woman before him if her confused face is any indicator. “They… they walker pets?” He’s curious, he can’t help it, he’s always been one to ask questions when he’s unsure.
Opposite him, the woman shifts on her feet, still watching him, still with her sword out, but she lowers it a little. He takes that as a good sign. He hopes it’s a good sign at least. The walkers growl a little more, she tugs on their chains and one of them stumbles a step closer to him, making him take his own step back away from it. It makes him clench his grip on his knife, makes him suck on his thumb a little harder and watch her a little closer. But she doesn’t look like she’s going to attack him; she just looks like she’s as confused as he is.
“No.” Finally she speaks, and her voice is rough, like she’s forgotten how to use it almost, and she looks just as surprised as he feels that she’s answered him. There is a pause, the woman swallows, shifts on her feet again and it really looks as if she’s trying to remember how to do this, how to talk to somebody else. Daryl doesn’t mind, he sometimes finds it hard to talk to other people too. “No they’re not walker pets.” It’s quiet, her voice sounds rusty, tired, but clear enough for Daryl to hear and understand her.
Tilting his head to the side, Daryl hums a little around his thumb, giving a small nod of understanding even if he’s still not sure what that means the walkers actually are. But they ain’t pets at least. It would be stupid to have walker pets. Even if they didn’t have arms to scratch and teeth to bite. He thinks that’s pretty clever actually, but they still wouldn’t be good pets. Not ones that he wants anyway.
The woman still looks wary of him, and he knows he should be careful of her, but she hasn’t done anything bad to him yet. That’s good, because he knows that most people out there would hurt you first and ask questions later, the fact that she’s not hurt him can only be a good sign. Her pet walkers are weird, and he knows he should be wary of her sword, but still she doesn’t look so bad. Slowly he sheathes his knife at his belt, letting his free hand linger there just in case as he shuffles from foot to foot. If she wasn’t going to hurt him then maybe they could work this out?
“You’re not supposed to be here.” He points out, mumbling around his thumb and he’s fairly certain he’s meant to be saying something else. Probably meant to be questioning her or something more cop like, that’s what Rick or Shane would do. But he doesn’t feel like he’d be good at that. Sure he knows how to be an asshole, learnt that from Merle easy enough, but right now he doesn’t really want to be one to her.
He hates this. Being lost as to what to do isn’t his favourite thing, and when he knows it’s important like this, he hates not knowing what to do even more. Shane had been really clear in his new rules, and now he’s gone and broken them already, with no clue as to how to fix it. It makes him feel awkward and unsure, like he’s got bubbles in his stomach and they’re popping in his throat. Humming around his thumb he shuffles again, trying to think of what exactly he should do about this situation when the woman speaks again.
“Are you out here on your own?” She asks him, but her sword is lowered to the floor, the tip of the blade resting on the dried leaves as she stands before him.
Shaking his head he knows the answer to that question, but immediately he doesn’t know if he should have let her know he’s not alone. Cursing himself inwardly, he wedges his thumb deeper into his mouth, and he wishes he had somebody else out here to deal with this problem. Reaching up with his free hand, he winds his fingers in his hair, tugging on the strands a little, pulling on his scalp until it hurts. That was stupid of him to let her know there were others, but it was stupid of him to be seen in the first place too. He hates making the wrong choices, and he can’t help but let out a frustrated whine as he tries to think of an answer. Things were just going wrong today.
Before he can think of what to do, she’s moving, the sword still down and a hand reached out to him as she goes to step closer. “Hey don’t hurt yourself-“ But then she cuts herself off with a hiss, a stumble, and she reaches down to clutch at her thigh instead. It’s red. Stained with blood, and Daryl’s been a hunter for long enough to know a bullet wound when he sees one. It’s not bleeding anymore, well it is but it’s sluggish, slow, clearly been a bullet wound for a while. She’s been shot, and Daryl knows he’s not smart, but even he knows that bullet wounds are bad news and need to be looked after properly or they could cause a lot of irreversible damage.
It makes him hum a little harder around his thumb, winding his hair around his fingers and yanking on it as he thinks it through. The wound looks bad. Bad enough that maybe the reason the woman is shivering a little isn’t because of the chill in the air, but because of a possible fever coming in from an infection. That’s not a good thing, and from the looks of things, the lady didn’t have a lot of supplies on her. Or a group, all she looked to have were her pet walkers. That made a lot of things more difficult, especially when you didn’t have anybody to watch your back as you healed. He’d needed help when he’d been injured after the fall down the cliff, and he knows he probably wouldn’t have made it if he hadn’t had other people there to look after him.
“I…” He stumbles over his words, and slowly he removes his thumb so he can be heard properly by the stranger. “I don’t do so good on my own.” He points out to her, stepping a little closer and not so wary anymore. She doesn’t seem so bad, and she’s got a bullet wound, if nothing else he could outrun her if things went bad. Maybe he’s not the best with people, but she doesn’t seem so bad, and sometimes you had to take chances with people. He’d done it with the group, and he’d never go back to being on his own again. Maybe this woman just needed a chance too? “If… If we help you, you wouldn’t... you ain’t allowed to hurt nobody.” He tells her.
Maybe it’s stupid, maybe he’s dumber than he he’s been told, maybe he just has too much faith in people, but he wants to help her. He doesn’t want her to stay out here on her own, because he knows how much it sucks to be on your own. Even if he only ever had his dad, or Merle, it was still always better than being on his own. He hated being on his own.
The sound of the sword being sheathed catches his attention, and he can see the way the woman is hunched over a little more, like she’s in pain and trying not to show it. It makes him feel a little better if she doesn’t have a weapon out, even if she is still holding the walker chains like they’re pets. “You do have people? You have a group?” She asks him and well she already knows the answer anyway.
So he nods, clutching at the strap to his bow a little. “Yeah, I don’t do so good by myself.” He repeats to her, giving a half shrug in answer. “We can help fix your leg for you. If you don’t get it fixed soon you’ll get an infection, then you’ll die anyway.” He points out, because he knows that sometimes infection is the more difficult problem to deal with rather than the initial wound. She looks a little stunned by what he’s saying, but he knows it’s the truth. “But you have to promise not to hurt nobody. Promise.” And he must sound pretty serious, because the way she looks at him is like she can see how much it means to him.
Slowly she reaches out a hand to him, one not covered in blood or holding walker chains, but one that he takes because he can see that understanding in her eyes when she answers. “I promise not to hurt anybody.”
Daryl knows he’s not a smart man, he knows he’s made mistakes in his life, but this doesn’t feel like another one. It feels like a step in the right direction. There is something about this woman that makes him want to trust her. She’s not cocky, she’s not loud, she’s not angry or vicious, and she hasn’t tried to hurt him even though she could have easily. He feels like he can take a chance with her. “I’m Daryl.” He tells her, glancing back over his shoulder as she follows him, being led back to the farm slowly to accommodate her limp.
“Michonne.” She tells him, and when he shares a smile with her, he thinks he’s made the right choice. Maybe Shane was wrong. Maybe not all other people were bad news. Besides, he knows he and Merle hadn’t exactly been the nicest people when they’d first joined the group, but he’d been allowed to stick around and now things were good. They were making a family out of lots of different people, and even if he loves his family already, he thinks there might still be room for more. He thinks maybe Michonne could be one of them.
The clink of chains follows them, as well as the slight drag of Michonne’s injured leg. He’s still not sure about the pet walkers, and he knows if he isn’t too keen on them, them Shane really won’t like them. Actually, Shane might not be too happy with a lot of things he’s bringing home. When they get close enough to the outskirts of the farm, he pauses, holding out a hand for Michonne to stop behind him. “Wait here, I should go first and let them know you’re coming.” She nods, leans up against a tree and hisses a little as she reaches down to her injured leg again. He knows she needs them, even if Shane might be mad. Because Shane is probably going to be mad at first.
But he can handle it, because he knows this is the right choice. Just because some people were bad didn’t mean they all were, and Michonne seems to be their kind of people. A survivor, a fighter, and Daryl wonders if he’d not followed the group after losing Merle, would he maybe be in her position himself? It’s not a nice thing to think about, and if he were in her position, he’d want someone to take a chance on him too.
He leaves Michonne in the tree line, far enough back that she’s hidden from view, but close enough that he could call for her if needed. Heading over to where he’d left Shane earlier, he’s pleased to find that Rick is there too, that should make things easier. The other man always seemed to manage to stay calm easier than Shane did. Maybe they’d just worked together for so long they balanced each other out well, almost like that stupid good cop, bad cop thing that Merle spoke about sometimes. Either way he knows things will probably be a little calmer since Rick was here to help.
Nodding to them both as he approaches, he tries to act natural, act calm, but he has a feeling he’s not very good at it. His skin feels itchy; especially his palms, and he can’t help but not want to meet their gaze as he goes up to them. Even though he hasn’t really done anything, he still feels guilty, and he can’t help but chew on the tip of his thumb when he comes to pause before them both at the fence on the edge of the farm.
“Hey bud, find anything decent for dinner?” Shane asks him, gesturing to the brace of rabbits hanging at his belt. It’s not much, and he’s done better some days, but then he’s also done worse on others. He has a feeling Shane is just asking a safe question to find out why he’s back earlier than usual.
Chewing on his thumb he gives a loose shrug, feeling the curl of unease in his stomach as he tries to find the words to explain himself and his actions. For what it’s worth, even if they’re both watching him curiously, they’re at least giving him a chance to try and find his words himself. Rubbing at the back of his neck, Daryl takes a deep breath, trying to stand firm and sound sure of himself and his choices like Rick and Shane always did.
“I found someone.” Better not to beat about the bush, might as well just get it out there right away and deal with the consequences. Looking up from the floor he’s not surprised that the other men look startled by the news, Rick immediately moving closer to him, and Shane scanning the tree line automatically. Rick is looking over him for injuries, clearly worried, whereas Shane looks a little pissed as he searches the nearby area, shotgun up against his shoulder, ready to fire if need be. That worries him a little, especially knowing that Shane was the type of guy to shoot first and ask questions later, so he moves to explain himself, reaching out a hand to push the barrel of the gun to point upwards and away from anyone. “She ain’t dangerous.” He tells them.
“You found someone?”
“She?”
It’s strange how differently they react at the same news. Daryl knows he’s not the best at reading people, but he does know Rick and Shane, and he knows it’s just how they are. Rick stays next to him, a hand on his shoulder, keeping him steady and giving him the reassurance that he needs right now. Shane though, Shane is moving already, pacing back and forth and even if he has lowered his gun he is still scanning the border of the farm, as if danger was lurking just beyond their eye line. He doesn’t like that, because all it would take is one snap of a twig and Shane would react.
Moving in front of Shane he blocks his view, distracting him for a moment as he tries to get his words in order and explain. “I found her in the woods, she ain’t dangerous. I swear she ain’t.” Looking to Rick for support he’s glad when the other man gives Shane a look, one he’s probably used before between the friends, one that gets him to listen first before reacting. It gives him time to try and get things in order in his head, and find a way to explain why he thought it was alright to break the rules. Chewing on his thumb he takes a deep breath in through his nose, sighing it out around his favourite digit before making his attempt. “Her name is Michonne.”
“You spoke to her?” Shane still looks tense, squared shoulders, his teeth clenched together behind his lips, and really it’s no surprise to Daryl when the other man raises a hand to rub over the back of his head. He knows that’s Shane’s unsure move, like his is to chew or suck on his thumb, Shane’s is to rub his head to get out the shaky feeling of unease that people have when they feel like that. But right now, though Shane still looks a little more angry than usual, he also looks worried, for him.
Daryl figures he should try and help stop that feeling as soon as he could. “Yeah. After I went to stab her.” He explains, gesturing to the sheathed knife at his hip. It doesn’t seem to help, Rick and Shane looks at each other for a second, but then they’re back to him, looking confused as all hell.
Shane shakes his head, moves both hands back to his shotgun, and takes another glance to the woods at the edge of the farm’s perimeter. Still scanning for danger, still not convinced, and Daryl is annoyed that he’s not doing a very good job of explaining himself. “You what?” Shane asks him, and Daryl sighs a little before trying again.
“Thought she was a walker first.” He tells them, hoping for some kind of sign that they understood. It doesn’t happen, and again there are two confused faces looking back at him, Shane is still tense, Rick looks lost, and Daryl gives a frustrated sigh as his hands move up to wind through his hair in aggravation.
But Rick is there, stepping close enough to stop him. The other man moves to take his wrists, tugging his hands back down from his hair, grounding him for a moment, giving him a second to breathe before speaking. “Start from the beginning, you went hunting right? So tell us when you first saw her, and then tell us what happened from there.” Rick has his calm face on, the one he uses when Daryl feels overwhelmed, or when Shane gets mad, or when Carl is acting out. He knows that face, it’s the face of someone who will listen to him, even if it take him a little bit to get it all out.
So he takes a breath, closes his eyes for a second, and when he feels ready he opens them again before explaining. “I was hunting, and I heard walkers. It was definitely walkers, could hear the way their feet drag across the ground, not like when people lift their feet properly. Didn’t want to waste time with the bow, thought it would be better to just take ‘em out with the knife, put them to sleep like usual. Wasn’t till I saw ‘em I noticed it weren’t three walkers.” He tells them. Shane still looks unsure, but the gun is still pointing down so that’s good.
“But it wasn’t three walkers?” Rick coaxes him to continue, hands still on him, grounding him, mixing with his calm face to let Daryl know he was doing good.
Shaking his head Daryl carries on. “One of ‘em was a lady. Michonne. The other two were walkers though, but they’re pet walkers instead of the usual ones.”
“Wait, pet walkers?” Before he can continue Shane is asking, shaking his head, looking frustrated because he doesn’t understand even when Daryl is trying his best.
Sighing a little, Daryl really wishes he could do this properly. “They’re on chains. Got collars on like dogs, and chains on them like leashes. They’re Michonne’s pets.” He tells them, but it seems as if it’s still not clear enough for the other men. “Could just go and get her.” He points out, gesturing to the tree line at the border of the farm. “Told her to wait while I came and told ya.”
Shane still looks pissed, but Rick looks pretty calm, he’s got that look on his face like he’s thinking about it, and there is a feeling deep inside Daryl’s gut that tells him Rick will make the right choice for them all. “I say we at least talk to her. If she meant to do us harm she would have done it. It was just her and Daryl out there, but she followed him here, where there is more danger for her if we’re hostile.” Rick points out, hands on his hips, body relaxed, looking like he knows it’ll all work out. It makes Daryl feel better about finding Michonne in the first place.
“Are you serious?” But Shane is tense, his muscles all bunched up and making him seem bigger, more intimidating than usual. “You want to just let a stranger in? Just invite someone in here? To our home? Someone you don’t know shit about?” He sounds pretty worried, pretty loud, but it’s his words that make Daryl cock his head to the side before he interrupts the clearly oncoming rant from the other man.
“Like Hershel and his family did for us?” He points out. That makes Shane shut up, it makes Rick look to his friend with his head tilted, and then there is a few moments of pause between them all. Honestly, Daryl hadn’t been trying to end the argument, he’d just not been too sure why helping someone out was a bad thing. “I mean, they didn’t know us when we got here, but they helped us out. Fixed Carl after he got shot, used their supplies, their food, let us come live in the big house with them.” He doesn’t want to make Shane mad by not liking his idea, but he also knows that he’s right about this. He’s not right about a lot of things, but there is just a feeling inside that lets him know he’s right about this.
Rick nods, looks ready, he looks like he’s finished thinking about it and is ready to go. Shane still looks annoyed even if he’s calmed down from swearing and raising his voice. “I still don’t agree with it.” He tells them, brow furrowed, fingers tight around his gun.
“’s not like I don’t think we shouldn’t be careful.” He tells him, because if there is one thing he doesn’t want, it’s Shane being mad at him and not liking him again. “But there is only one of her. There’s a lot of us, we can give her a chance and just be careful.” Besides Michonne had seemed nice enough to him, even if she did have pet walkers. Hershel’s family had done so much for them, even when there wasn’t a lot left in the world, they’d been willing to share it, taken them in, and Daryl may be a lot of things but he’s not dumb enough to think they’d be better off still on the road. “Plus she’s hurt, I’m pretty sure we could take her.”
There is a sigh, a pretty big one from Shane, but he does relent, giving a nod before gesturing for Daryl to lead the way. He cant help but feel a little proud of himself for fighting his corner and even managing to explain well enough in the end. Maybe Shane isn’t totally convinced, but they’re following him to the woods, both Rick and Shane following his lead.
“If this all goes to shit, I’m blaming you.” Shane tells him, but there isn’t a lot of anger behind it. Instead it’s said with a nudge to Daryl’s side, Shane’s elbow nudging his hip, and when he glances over he finds the other man not exactly smiling, but not looking too pissed at him either. He knows it was the right choice, and once Michonne gets all fixed up by Hershel and gets to know everybody, he’s pretty sure they’ll all see it was the right choice too.