AN: hello, very nervous about this. This is a prompt I have Halohunter89 but she was just too busy to tackle it at the moment. So she graciously let me take it back for myself. This is a crossover. Daryl is a Hunter (as in Sam and Dean hunter) who knew the Winchesters pre za. He is with the group from Atlanta, with one exception...Carol was never with the group. Carol will be ...something else. I'm not guaranteeing the appearance of The Supernatural group, but they will be spoken of.

Thanks Mac for all your help.

If you like this at all please review. I'm nervous about this and knowing your enjoying something motivates me.

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I do not own or profit from The Walking Dead

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The wind swirled through the trees, like an invisible icy blast. Daryl paused for a moment his hand bracing on the rough bark of a tree as he tried to catch his breath.

The world was veiled in fog, tipped on it's axis. His mind just could not see clearly, anymore than he could see through the blinding storm.

He pressed a hand to his head to try and staunch the blood that was flowing freely. Dribbling into his line a vision. A red veil across his eyes.

The group had travelled further north, then ever before, but they weren't prepared for the snow. Snow like they had never dealt with before. He was trying to hunt for the group, there were so few of them left. Rick, Carl, Maggie and Glenn. They had lost so many along the way since the the world ended. Somehow it felt like it was still ending. A never ending end. Like they had fallen off the edge of an abyss into a deep black hole. Hurtling through the minutes and moments left of their life as the world continued to deteriorate.

The tread on his boots was non existent. They were held together by duct tape and laces. The ice had been difficult to spot until he had fallen and smashed his head on rocks.

He was lost. Turned on his side, his mind unable to shake the fog of confusion. The storm was picking up. The group would be safe at the hunting cabin they were holed up in, but he was the one in trouble.

Hunting was the one thing he had always been good at. Before the turn, he'd just hunted something a little different.

He's specialty had been vamps. He left the really weird shit for the Winchesters. They loved that kind of stuff, or that stuff found them. Vamps were easy, predictable. Arrogant. Arrogance made you stupid.

"Fuck...says the stupid son of a bitch lost in a blizzard in the fucking zombie apocalypse." He huffed, wiping the freezing drizzle off his face.

He didn't know what had happened. The Winchesters had "accidentally" unleashed the darkness. He'd heard that among the Hunter's. They gossiped like old maids. Specially Garth.

It seemed like the world was succumbing to the Croatoan virus, in his opinion, but by the time he realized what the fuck was happening, the lines of communication were down. Then Merle went off the wagon, and he got stuck with this group.

There was no way to find the others Hunters, he figured his best bet was to stay with civilians. Protect the ones he could. He gradually worked his way north, towards Garth and the last known address he had for The Winchesters. Kansas. Rick trusted him and he was using that trust to hopefully lead the group and influence Rick the way he wanted.

He was surprised by how little activity he had seen along the way. No vamps, or were wolves or wendigoes. That asshole Crowley was probably throwing a fucking "wait out the apocalypse party"somewhere. He shivered at the thought of Crowley unleashing on the world the after party literally from hell.

Maybe all supernaturals were hiding as well. Humans were few and far between. He knew for a fact that zombies didn't have souls. Predators couldn't survive with nothing to eat.

He broke through the brush, to some thankfully flat land. He realized his mistake before he had a chance to correct it. The crack that reverberated around him had him holding his breath.

"Fuck" he muttered as he fell through the ice into the icy water.

Gasping he made his way to the shore line. It was only a few feet but it seemed like a million miles away.

He managed to step from the water to collapse gasping at the side. His clothing was already frozen stiff.

He turned staring up at a break in the clouds, seeing a beam of light shinning down upon him. It was as though God was beaming his light on to him.

"Fuck" he thought. I must really be hallucinating. God had checked out years ago as far as he knew.

Daryl...

A voice seemed to swirl on the wind as his mind rumbled toward unconsciousness.

Daryl...

But it was too late. He couldn't open his eyes, at least it was warm in his dreams.