Hiraeth (The Walking Dead)

Chapter 4

Daryl stayed with Cailey for the rest of the night, making sure she didn't try to leave. He sat on the windowsill with his arms crossed, his eyes gazing around the room. Cailey stayed awake, leaning against the wall at the head of the bed with her arms crossed to mirror Daryl.

"Hey," Hershel appeared in the dark moonlit room slowly. "Why don't you head back to your group," he offered, "I will watch over the girl. She won't leave."

Daryl gave a small reluctant huff, then hesitated before finally giving a small nod. He slung his crossbow over his shoulder and left the house towards where his group's tents were.

Hershel gave a gentle look at Cailey with a small smile. "Why don't you try to get some sleep, you'll need it."

Hershel left the room, locking his front door as if it would keep the teenager from leaving the house. Cailey remained motionless with her legs crossed on the bed, her green eyes darting around the room.

Morning came only hours later, and Cailey still sat on the white mattress without any sleep. As the sun began to rise over the trees, the dark-haired girl silently began to reach her legs over the edge of the bed and place her bare feet on the cold wooden floor. She carefully slipped her feet into her slightly too-large leather boots, lacing the brown shoelaces tightly around her shins.

"Where you think yer' goin'?"

The girl looked up, about to reach for her bow across the room. Daryl crossed his arms in the doorway. "What's it to ya, redneck?"

"Ya go out there an' start runnin' from 'ere and you'll get yer'self killed by Shane n' them," Daryl stated blatantly, "They already think yer' a threat."

"Let them," Cailey replied simply.

"I ain't gonna let some kid wander 'round by themselves an' get killed by some big-shot ex-cop."

"I ain't a kid, redneck," Cailey retorted as she slung her quiver over her shoulder. "Kinda hard to be when you've been takin' care of yourself for the past year here."

"Yer' still gonna get yer'self killed. Sit yer' ass down and have some damn patience, clodhopper."

Cailey visibly bit down on her back teeth and dropped her bow and quiver on the mattress. With tense shoulders, she tried to calmly walk around Daryl weaponless.

"Girl, what I say? Ya fuckin' dumb?"

"I'm just goin' for a smoke real quick, calm your dick," the short girl snapped, "You can come if you really wanna, but I ain't stayin' in this damn house."

Daryl kept a hard expression and hesitated before moving to the side to let Cailey by. "Better watch yer' mouth, girl."

Cailey gave an almost-silent huff as she walked out of the front door into the green grassy yard, muttering to herself "What're you, my father?"

Daryl silently followed the girl, both of their boots crunching on the soft grass. The hunter watched as Cailey reached into the inside pocket of her leather jacket to pull out a box of Marlboro and a black lighter. He did the same, wrapping his hands around the cigarettes and lighter in one of his pants pockets. The older hunter couldn't help but think she was awfully young to be smoking, but he also decided it was better to let the girl have her way with this than going out on a spree getting herself or someone else killed.

Cailey walked out across the field as if she owned the place until she finally reached the old wooden fence that leaned out towards the trees and splintered. The hunter girl sat on the edge of the short fence and leaned against one of the posts, taking a drag from her cigarette.

Daryl mimicked her stance, sitting along the shaky fence with his feet resting on the wood. He stared out at the tree line far away as smoke rose up from the white cigarette in his mouth.

There was silence for several minutes as the two sat on the fence, smoking their cigarettes. Daryl didn't want to ask where she was from or why she didn't have anyone- frankly, he didn't care. He didn't like talking just for the sake of talking, he barely liked having to communicate at all if unnecessary. The feeling was mutual in Cailey, and they could sense it in each other. Even without talking, Daryl and Cailey knew they were at least partly one in the same. They knew they would end up either close family or end up killing each other. There was going to be no in between.

"Hey," a feminine voice broke the silence. The two smoking hunters turned to see a thin grey-haired woman stepping through the grass towards them. "Daryl, Rick said he wants you in a meeting with everyone tonight. You're the girl, right?" The woman turned to Cailey with a warm smile. "Cailey? I'm Carol."

The young girl gave only a small hum from the back of her throat.

Carol gave a small laugh at the younger girl. "Aren't you a little young to be smoking? Daryl, why would you give her cigarettes?"

"I di'nt give 'er shit," the bowman declared, taking another drag from his cigarette. "It's not ma fault she wanted to come all 'de way out here for a smoke."

"Still," the woman sighed out softly, "That's going to be really unhealthy for you at this age."

"My age," Cailey echoed in a mumble, "Be lucky if I make it to twenty. Don't think some nicotine's gonna do whole lotta harm."

Carol gave a slightly defeated and exasperated silent sigh, only noticed by Daryl in her chest falling. Cailey turned her back to the woman again, letting her cigarette hang from the corner of her mouth. Carol shook her head, giving a small warm smile to Daryl before turning to leave.

"Ya gotta work on yer' people skills, girl," Daryl commented as he lifted one knee up to his torso on the fence.

"You're one to talk, redneck," she mumbled. She seemed to do that a lot- mumble.

"Shut it, clodhopper."