Hello! I'm excited to come back with a new story and new world to write in. I've been addicted to TWD since it came out and I cannot get enough of Daryl Dixon. Seriously. His picture may or may not be the wallpaper of my cell phone.

Anyway, this is my first TWD story but definitely not my first experience with writing. I've been waiting for a plot to come to me for this show and I'm excited with what I've been struck with. I decided to wait until after the season finale since that seemed to be an easier time to start. So on that note, please keep in mind that this story probably will stray from the direction the next season will go (obviously, since I am neither a mind reader nor a writer for the show), but I will try to remain as in canon as possible.

In addition, please note that this story takes place after the third season so there will be SPOILERS if you haven't seen up to the finale.

I do have most of this story mapped out but I am always open to suggestions and requests!

Thank you for taking the time to read my story and I hope you enjoy!

Come Back

Chapter 1

She couldn't get away fast enough. Her lungs ached within her chest as she struggled to catch her breath and keep up her speed. Glancing behind her, she could see the thing just a few feet away. It was bound to catch up to her soon.

Her path reached a dead end and the wet rock walls surrounding her closed in. She had no choice but to climb, her dark green eyes scanning over the slab of rock to find opportune footholds. A clammy hand gripped around her ankle and she let out a breathy scream, looking down and throwing a small knife towards it. The blade missed her target location but was imbedded in its shoulder, rendering the limb unusable.

Dominic shouted for her, racing to where she was struggling. He had no long-distance weapons on him so all he could do for her was run and hoped he made it to her in time. She gritted her teeth, gave her lover a final look of longing, and then propelled herself down to fall on top of the creature. It jolted backwards and she landed easily on its chest. Her thigh holster was empty of weaponry but she reached for a thin branch by her ankles. With a fierce cry she lifted it above her head and drove it down, jamming into the ground just next to its head.

"Cut!"

She looked up from beneath a layer of blonde wavy hair falling into her eyes from where it had come loose from her French braid, using her forearm to brush it aside. With a sigh, she sat back and eased herself off of the man lying below her on a thick foam mat.

"Nice one, Lyla. Let's take five for prep and then rework the rest of the kill shot," Marco, a large balding man, called out from beneath his low baseball cap. He perched in his Director's chair behind a row of cameras and computer screens.

Lyla nodded as she panted, keeping her hands on her hips and trying to open her lungs to regain her breath. Her leather jacket and pants were tight and form fitting, not allowing for much movement, but Marco liked the way they looked on her taut body so she kept up the look, whether or not she felt incredibly constricted and slightly objectified. Her toes were pinched in the combat boots they'd given her and, even though her costume designer assured her that they'd get better after breaking them in for a few days, she had yet to feel used to them.

"Here," she glanced up to see a water bottle being tossed to her just in time to catch it. "Thanks, Chris." Christian, who played her vampire lover Dominic in the Abby Strong: Vampire Slayer film series, nodded before chugging half of his own bottle.

"Who would've thought vampire slaying could be so tiring?" he said with a breathy laugh. Lyla nodded and wiped the cool rim of water from her upper lip after drinking.

"It's almost worse than the six months of boot camp," she joked, referring to the intense training they had to endure for each film, before noticing Chelsea, her assistant, waving her over. There were two security guards standing watch of her personal belongings that she'd brought from her trailer to the set but she waved them away for a moment of privacy.

"Your brother is calling on your personal," Chelsea said quietly as she held an iPhone out to her boss, a small touch tablet full of Lyla's schedules and appointments in her other hand. "Do you want to take it?"

"Lyla?" Marco called out. "Lyla, baby, we need to set—"

"You said five minutes, hang on!" she snapped as she took the phone. She clicked to accept the call, frowning at the sound of static hitting her ear immediately. She didn't spend a couple hundred dollars a month on the latest smart phone for this kind of shitty service.

"Lyla?"

"Peter," she smiled, moving to a more private corner of the set and leaning back against a wall. "What's up? Let me guess…you and Kathleen locked your keys in the car again—"

"Lyle," he interrupted with her nickname. Lyla stiffened at the urgency in his voice. "I need you to listen to me…you have to go to the school and get Ben. Kathleen and I…we won't make it in time."

"What do you mean? What's going on?"

"You don't know?"

"Know what?" she asked. "Why are you all staticky? I can barely make you out."

"Lyla! Damn it, this is important. Listen to me, something's happened. There's…things all over the place. It's not safe. Kathleen and I can't get to the school and someone has to get Ben." There was some kind of crashing in the background and what sounded like strange muffled voices.

Lyla dropped her water bottle, looking to the crew to get someone's attention. "Find a TV or a radio! Something's going on…Peter, listen to me. I'm on the set right now…it will take me at least forty-five minutes to get to Atlanta. You need to tell me what's happening."

"I can't explain it, Lyle. Something's happened. Please, just get to Ben…take care of him. We can't make it. I need you to—"

The line went dead.

"Pete? Peter!" she searched the set frantically, desperate for someone who could help her. "Please!" she shouted, tears beginning to stream down her face. "Someone fucking figure out what's going on out there!"

She tried to search on her cell phone, noticed the others were as well, but no one's seemed to be working. Chelsea attempted to connect to the internet on her tablet but she set it down after a minute with an exasperated look. "I've got something," an intern finally said, fiddling with a little radio he'd found. They were locked deep in a below ground studio where there was barely any service or satellite connection on a good day. After adjusting the knobs on the radio for a bit, finally a weak, scratchy voice came through.

"There's been an outbreak of some sort," the intern explained after pressing his ear to the speaker. "Some kind of…dead things all over the place."

Christian threw his water bottle with a string of curses as people began to cry and scream. Tension bubbled within the film studio as the panic set in and Lyla felt her chest tightening as she punched in the numbers to her brother's cell phone again. Her phone wasn't making any connection and finally she lost any kind of signal. The radio gave out moments later.

"My nephew…I have to get to my nephew," she choked out as her throat began to close up. A handful of the caterers came screaming into the set with strewn clothing and streaks of red across their bodies.

"What is it?" Marco asked, grabbing one of them by the shoulders.

"There's…there's something out there," the man sobbed. "It's like it's the end of the world."

2 years later

Daryl Dixon was not fond of crowds. All his life he'd grown used to being alone and suddenly here he was living in a prison full of his people and the Woodbury refugees. It was like a never ending chatter was going on around his head. With so many people confined to one place, it was almost never quiet. Even at night.

He'd lost the person he considered himself closest to—his big brother—and whether he admitted it to himself or not, he'd become a bit lost himself. The late summer sun was beginning to set and Daryl struck out into the woods for some time alone. He didn't like to think about Merle around the others, even if he was just in the cell block with his people.

Things had become tense in the prison, and not just amongst his people. Many of the refugees were older and unstable; they passed on early enough from all the stress. The dozen or so that remained were younger but still panicked about the situation. Even though the Governor and his men hadn't been seen or heard from since they'd shot up their own army, the former citizens of Woodbury couldn't seem to shake their restlessness. They rarely talked and were even worse when one from Daryl's group came into their presence. It was unnerving for him, as he wasn't used to that kind of silent, staring attention.

He sighed as he stepped into the dark freedom of the woods surrounding the prison, welcoming the tranquil quiet that enveloped him. What he wouldn't do for a cigarette. The tips of his fingers tingled as he rubbed them together, adjusting the crossbow on his shoulder. He may have come out here for some peace but he wasn't stupid. He knew that in this world you never could be too careful.

There was a large tree about a half mile away from the prison grounds that he liked to come to during times like this. It was sturdy so he could sit in it if he chose to, but other times he simply leaned back against it. He slid down the side of the bark and propped his knees up as he pulled his knife from his jacket. The pad of his finger danced across the tip of the blade before he flicked it towards another tree across from him. It embedded into the thick bark with a soft thud.

He was about to reach to pull it out when he heard a strange sound to his distant right. Daryl froze all movements, turning his well-trained ear to pick up on anything that could identify it. He cursed when he realized just what it was. Grabbing the crossbow, he hoisted himself up quickly and yanked the knife from the tree before slipping over to the direction of the sound.

The muffled whimpering became louder as he closed in. His boot snapped a fallen twig and he cursed silently as the sound stopped with a startled hiccup. Rubbing at his bottom lip, Daryl took a step through the brush.

"Well come on then," he said softly. "Come on outta there."

For a moment, all was still. Just as he was about to give up out of frustration, a little person crawled out of the brush. Daryl sighed at the sight of the boy; he couldn't be older than seven or eight. His rounded cheeks were dashed with freckles and a few leaves poked out of his dark messy hair.

The boy sniffled as Daryl knelt down in front of him, taking in the liquid pooling in his large dark eyes and dripping down his cheeks. He set the crossbow behind him so as not to frighten him.

"Hey now," he murmured. "I ain't gonna hurt ya." He held out a hand and gestured for the boy to step closer and he did, wiping his cheeks with his sleeve as he approached the older man.

"You lost?" The boy nodded. "What's yer name?"

The boy sniffled again, "Ben."

"Okay Ben," Daryl said, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder. "I'll help ya find yer group. Do ya remember where ya came from?"

Ben shook his head no, his face crumpling up as he began to wail again. Daryl scrambled to quiet the boy and calm him at the same time. "Hey, hey," he shushed. "Don't worry 'bout it. I can help ya."

He chewed on his thumb nail as he tried to think. He hadn't seen or heard a group camped out anywhere within miles. Who knew where to start. "How long you been lost for?"

"A day I think," Ben answered quietly, keeping his gaze on his shoes. "It was light out when I lost Mrs. Dobson and it's been dark once."

Daryl arched his brow at the boy and leaned back on his haunches. "Who's Mrs. Dobson?"

"My teacher. She takes care of us kids with some of the other teachers."

"You been with yer teacher all this time?"

Ben nodded. "I lost my Mama and Daddy. Mrs. Dobson took us from the school when it happened."

"Have ya been walkin' since ya got lost?" He frowned when Ben answered yes, meaning that the odds of getting the little boy back to his group were slim to none. If there were any group near them, Daryl would be the one to know it.

This was just like the Sophia situation all over again. Part of Daryl wanted to leave the kid out here in the woods. He was tired of trying to save people. He was tired of failing.

Andrea's last words reverberated in his mind, "No one can make it alone now."

Biting the side of his lip, he stood and brushed off his worn jeans. "How old are ya Ben?"

"Seven."

"I got a friend back at my place who's just a bit older than you. His name's Carl," Daryl said. "You wanna meet him?"

Daryl watched as Carol set another plate of some kind of mushy freeze-dried pasta in front of Ben, who eagerly gobbled it up without any kind of usual childlike reluctance. But, he supposed, when you grow up in a world like this one, you learn not to be too picky.

"So Ben," Rick sat down across from the boy. Carl was looking over Ben closely, his older brother instincts with Judith transferring to the younger boy as well. "My friend Daryl says that you've been living with your teachers and some classmates?"

Ben nodded as he slurped up a noodle. "Mrs. Dobson. She reads to us a lot."

"What happened to your group?" Maggie asked from her place beside Glenn. She was brewing a pot of tea for some of the others.

Ben paused, chewing for a moment as he thought. "Some of those yucky guys…walkers. They attacked us. Tony Danielson got bit." He looked over to Daryl proudly, "I hid!"

The side of Daryl's mouth perked up a bit and he nodded to the little boy in response, but couldn't help but feel slightly confused. He didn't know why the boy would be looking to him of all people for recognition.

Carol smiled at him gently for a moment before her eyes softened and she shifted her gaze to Ben. "Sweetheart," she began with a voice Daryl hadn't heard since Sophia had disappeared. "Where are your parents?"

Ben's head drooped and he set his fork down. "Mrs. Dobson said they're gone."

Rick glanced over at Hershel and Daryl briefly before asking, "You don't have any other family?"

After a brief moment the little boy perked up, "My Auntie Lyla! Daddy said she was going to find me."

"Do you know where Auntie Lyla is?"

"Nuh uh. I've been with Mrs. Dobson the whole time."

"She's never found you?" Hershel asked in disbelief. The look on his face told Daryl what the older man was thinking. It was doubtful that this woman was still in the area, let alone alive.

Rick let out a long breath through his nose, rubbing his hand over his prickly face. "Alright," he said finally, eyes closed. "Ben will stay here for the night. Daryl can try to track his group tomorrow, see if we can get him back to his people. If not, the boy stays with us."

"I wanna go, too," Carl insisted. Daryl saw the hesitation in Rick's eyes but he stepped forward slightly.

"I don' mind. We can hunt too."

Their leader nodded after considering. He watched his son with pained eyes and nodded again. "Yeah, that would be good."

Ben smiled up at the group before diving back into his noodles, happily slurping them up after not having eaten in days. Maggie handed out mugs of tea to some of the adults.

"What I wanna know," she said quietly so as not to disrupt Ben, "is why nobody in that group has been looking for him."

Carol nodded but Daryl shook his head. "Things are different now. This far into it, people're learnin' to cut their losses early."

Daryl and Carl had been wandering the woods for several hours but hadn't come across any signs of an abandoned camp or tracks that would suggest a group's movement. He'd managed to snag a few squirrels but other than that they hadn't had much success for the day.

He noted that Carl had grown far less chatty over the past year and while he previously may have been pleased with that, now all he could feel was worry for the boy. This world could ruin him if things didn't change soon.

"Hey," he paused, waiting for the wide brim of the Sherriff's hat to move up until Carl's face showed. He held his crossbow in front of him. "You wanna try this thing out?"

Carl's face lit up at the offer and he eagerly reached out for the bow. Daryl instructed him to crouch low and hold still as they waited for any sign of life. Eventually, a lean rabbit hobbled into view a few yards away. Daryl nodded towards it before helping Carl adjust his grip on the bow, showing him where to place his hands and how to hold it against his shoulder.

"Gonna feel it kick back," he whispered as he wiggled the boy's shoulder to show him. "Just move with it but stay strong. Don't want it to bust yer shoulder but ya can't let it blow you over too."

Carl nodded, his face set in stern determination as he aimed the bow for the small furry creature. Daryl encouraged him to aim for the head and showed him how to steady his arms before finally letting go and giving the go ahead.

With a click and sharp whirring sound, the arrow released and shot through the air. They watched as it pierced through the rabbit's flesh, missing the head but stunning it immobile nonetheless. Daryl threw his knife to finish it off. He nodded at Carl as he removed the weapons and tied the carcass to their string of catches.

"Good work, kid."

Carl opened his mouth to reply when his head jerked in the opposite direction. Daryl looked past him, hearing the screams at the same time as he had. There was a roaring crackle accompanying them. Before Daryl could make any kind of decision about what to do, Carl took off in the direction of the fire.

With a curse, Daryl chased after his companion, loading his bow as he ran. They hurdled over fallen branches and brush as they headed into the smokey part of the forest. It wasn't too long before a frenzied campsite came into view, caving in partially because of the flames but also from a small herd of walkers that had made their way over, most likely having heard all the screams.

Tents collapsed from the melting vinyl and burning branches, bodies were strewn about across the clearing. People were hastily gathering any belongings they could. The flames licked bodies and nature and furniture alike, while walkers ignored the burning in favor of devouring the bodies.

Carl and Daryl quickly helped to take out all of the walkers, and prevent any deceased from becoming so, before taking in the state of the damage. Along with several of the people, they used blankets and towels to pat down the flames. Many of them rushed past the two, but a few gave their thanks before packing up and heading out.

A petite blonde woman nearly ran into Carl as she struggled to gather all of her things into her backpack. She glanced at their weapons and noted the downed walkers before pausing to look back to them.

"Thank you for your help," she said with a small smile. Carl's eyes widened at the sight of her but Daryl worked to keep a blank face, merely nodding in return.

Amidst all the chaos, another tent gave way and the rush of air expelled a cluster of photographs. Several of them were melted or burnt, but one that was only slightly singed drifted in front of Daryl's feet. Looking down at it, he breathed in quickly as he recognized the little boy in the foreground. His cheeks were a bit rounder, his hair was more kept, and he was a few years younger, but it was definitely Ben. He was sitting behind a table with a large colorful cake on it and grinning widely while a woman was hugging his side. There were two people standing behind them but the photo was too burnt to make out their faces. The woman hugging Ben, however, Daryl recognized.

"Hey!" he called out to the blonde who was hoisting her large camping backpack onto her shoulders. "You know Ben?"

She whirled around and was back in front of him before he could even blink. Daryl tensed at the way her small hand gripped his arm but he restrained himself from pulling away. Her eyes, the color of the forest surrounding them, were wide as she looked up at him.

"You know my nephew?"

"We have him," Carl added, puffing his chest out a bit, Daryl couldn't help but notice. The woman doubled over and let out a breathy laugh. When she straightened up Daryl could see tears forming in her eyes.

"Please," she said, "take me to him."

"Lyla!" a tall man with sandy brown hair called out. He wore a shirt that seemed too tight for his bulging muscles and, in Daryl's opinion, just made him look like an asshole. "We need to go. Now!"

"Christian, they found Ben," she explained. "I need to go with them."

The man frowned as he sized up Daryl. He knew what the pretty boy was thinking, what was a woman as beautiful as her doing running off with a dirty red neck like him? Her golden hair glistened where the setting light hit it and her skin seemed to practically glow. She was like looking at sunlight. Daryl noticed how Carl couldn't seem to take his eyes off of her.

Pretty Boy—or Christian, as Lyla had called him—held up his rifle, clearly deciding he wasn't going to accept her answer. Daryl and Carl instantly readied their own weapons in response, aiming at the man who hadn't taken a liking to them.

Lyla frowned, moving to push their weapons down and turning back to Christian. "That's enough. I'll meet you guys down at the river like we planned. Tomorrow."

Christian didn't lower his weapon. "How do we know you can trust them?"

"We know Ben!" Carl snapped. "He's seven and his teacher was Mrs. Dobson and his parents died in the outbreak."

Carl's blunt reply caused something to react in Lyla. Her eyelids fluttered and her shoulders seemed to wilt for a moment. Daryl realized that this was probably the first time she'd heard a direct confirmation that her family members were gone. After a moment she righted herself and set her face.

"I'll be fine," she said to Christian, gesturing to the holster on her thigh where half a dozen of small knives rested. Daryl's eyebrows rose. "Tomorrow…Ben and I will meet you just west of the river."

With her mind decided, Lyla adjusted the pack resting on her shoulders and looked back to Daryl and Carl, waiting for them to show her the way.

So there we have it! First chapter! I wanted to include a lot of introduction work here. I'm trying to base the actual characters (Daryl and Carl especially) on interviews of the actors as well as the show itself. Hopefully I'm doing them some kind of justice.

Please let me know what you think!