A/N: What is wrong with me? I've got 5 other stories up that need finishing, and here I am posting another one. *Sigh* whatever :P

Just an idea that popped into my head at a completely unexpected time. I love TWD and Caryl but I don't feel like I'm up to that level where I can go posting stories about it/them. But, this idea wouldn't leave me alone and someone else that read it said it was good, so, here I go.

As far as characters go, imagine Carol and Daryl from season 4, Merle from season 2, and everyone else from season 1.

Reading time: 8-10 mins.

Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead.

Chapter one: Plans and Complications~

"You ready, little brother?"

Daryl gazed outside the passenger window of his older brother's beat up Mazda, staring intently at the little gas station from across the parking lot. It was past eleven o'clock, and aside from the lights of the station they were parked under and the glow of the flickering neon letters of the building beside them, it was pitch black out.

They'd been planning this heist for weeks. Well, his brother Merle had. Daryl had mostly just agreed to it. But they were at that point where they didn't need to go over every detail together. One trusted the other, and that was that. When their mother died and their father wanted nothing to do with them, Merle had decided he was going to tough it out on his own, and that apparently meant taking his little brother with him.

They'd had their run-ins with the law along the way; Merle had been arrested on several occasions for drug possession, violence against an officer of the law, assault, murder, resisting arrest, embezzlement, speeding...the list went on and on. And Daryl was no different. He hadn't done anything as bad as his brother, of course - he had more sense than that - but he was no saint; he'd been arrested and sent to juvie and later jail on numerous occasions while Merle had been away trying to earn some cash and put food in their stomachs.

You would think that after all that, after all those years of constant failure, they would have learned by now. Merle would wise up and get a job, a decent one, and Daryl would stay in school and make a better person of himself.

But, they hadn't.

And here they were now, at the ages of 28 and 35, about to rob a damned gas station for some spare dough.

Daryl chewed the inside of his cheek as he continued to stare at the lonely building. Aside from him, his brother, and the workers, there was no one else around. But then again, they'd planned it that way.

"Little brother? You ready?"

He exhaled, snapping out of his reverie to answer his brother. "...Yeah."

Merle clapped his shoulder. "Great, let's do it."

They pulled the bandanas hanging around their necks up and over their noses.

"Here, take the cash bag."

Daryl grunted as he caught the black duffel bag being haphazardly tossed at him, sending a half-hearted glare at his big brother, who only grinned in return.

Leaving the car running, the two brothers exited the vehicle, and, guns at the ready, stalked towards their target.

They walked in like it was nothing.

They had it all planned out perfectly. They knew where the security cameras were, which ones actually worked, the employees' shifts, the times when the most and least amount of people would be there. Everything. And that was how it was supposed to go.

Swift and fast. In and out.

The bell sounded as they stepped in the door, signaling their arrival, and they immediately pulled out their guns, eyes sweeping the counter and aisles for the workers.

One by the refrigerator section. One in the candy aisle. One at the counter.

Three. Perfect.

Merle shot once, twice into the ceiling to get their attention.

"Alright, everybody down!"

The panic that followed was immediate. The three workers crouched to the ground even before he had said anything, their hands already above their heads, fear in their eyes.

Merle pointed his gun at the two workers in the aisles, a black man and a blonde woman, his voice muffled by his bandana. "You two! Over to the counter! Now!"

They complied immediately, clearly terrified, and Daryl kept watch outside the windows as they moved to join the person behind the counter. Merle tapped him on the shoulder, and he withdrew his attention from the fill-up stations and parking spaces and followed his brother over to the checkout counter.

The blonde woman began to cry, her ponytail shaking with her trembling body. "Please! Please, we don't-"

"Aw, quit yer whinin', blondie," Merle snapped, aiming his gun at her. "You do what you're told an' you'll get outta this juuust fine."

She shut her mouth, keeping her hands above her head as the black man tried to shush her.

Movement.

Daryl snapped his gaze to the third person behind the counter, aiming his gun at them.

"Hold it right there."

They froze.

Their back was to him, arms above their head, but their left arm was slightly lower than their right, as if they were reaching for something. A gun, maybe.

Merle, still pointing his gun at the other two, looked appraisingly at his brother's sharp eye.

"Well, lookie here," he chuckled. "Now, now, Honey Buns, none o' that panic button shit. Take your hand away, now."

They slowly obeyed.

"That's right." Merle grinned beneath his mask. "Now turn around. Come on, now."

The person slowly turned around, keeping their hands up, eyes down. Daryl's eyes widened.

It was a woman.

She had short, curly hair, brown but slightly grey, and her face was soft and gentle. She didn't look much older than he was.

She slowly lifted her eyes - a pale but pleasant shade of blue - looking first at the barrel of his gun, then at him. His breath hitched as their eyes met, his gun faltering ever so slightly.

"Alright, now be a good girl and open up that there register." Merle's voice broke the spell he was under, and her eyes slowly shifted away from his and to his brother's.

"It'll be alright, Andrea," she said to the crying woman behind her, her eyes like steel as she stared at Merle. "T-Dog and I won't let anything happen to you."

Unlike her coworkers, her expression was not of fear, but of determination. Readiness. Calm. She slowly reached a hand towards the register, eyes downcast in an almost defiant way. She opened it, a hand in the air, the other reaching down to grab the money, and as Daryl watched her movements he swore it was like watching a damned ballet. All graceful and shit.

Willing himself to snap out of it, he gripped his gun tighter and kept it steady, gaze flicking briefly over to the other two - Andrea and T-Dog - cowering beside her.

He swallowed, breath billowing hotly around his covered face as his heart beat faster and sweat began to collect at his forehead.

This was taking too long. She was taking too long.

Stepping closer, he raised his gun to her forehead. "Hey, hurry it up," he snapped, growing impatient.

She froze for only a moment before speeding along and gathering the money into her hands at a more desirable rate. As they waited, Daryl glanced down at her name tag.

Carol.

Her name was Carol.

He didn't know much about names, least of all girls' names, but he decided that, at that moment, Carol was as good a name as any. Beautiful, even. It suited her.

Carol finished gathering the cash, and as she moved to hand it to him, their eyes met once again. He froze, looking from her to the money, brain suddenly unable to make the connection between it and the reason he was there to begin with. Luckily, Merle was able to fix that for him pretty quick.

"What'd, your brain fall outta yer head, man? Take the cash!"

Merle stepped up, brushing roughly past him and snatching the money from Carol's hands, stuffing it in the black duffel bag his little brother held. He slapped him on the back.

"C'mon, let's go!"

Daryl blinked, suddenly remembering where they were, and stole one last glance at the woman behind the counter before turning and following his brother out the door and making a run for the car.

Merle hollered happily as they sped down the street, running a stop sign and making a sharp turn around a corner.

"Woo! That was some steal, huh, little brother? We'll have to do that again sometime!"

Daryl said nothing, pulling his bandana back down below his chin as he tried to count the money in the bag while dealing with his brother's crazy driving. He tried not to, but he couldn't stop thinking about the woman at the gas station. The way she looked, the way she'd looked at him...it was like she understood. They didn't want to do this, they had to. Well, maybe Merle wanted to, but that was besides the point.

He scoffed at himself.

Damn woman was messin' up his counting.

Merle hollered again, laughing as he grabbed Daryl's shoulder and shook him roughly.

"Hahaa, how much we got in there, brother? Shit, I reckon we got enough to start makin' a life for ourselves! Maybe even get some girls, too! That one back at that gas station there was easy on the eyes, wouldn't ya say? Damn, shoulda caught her name..."

Daryl didn't know all that much about life (at least not the one his brother was envisioning) and he didn't know shit about girls, but he knew two things for sure;

Her name was Carol.

And she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

A/N: Well, there's the first chapter. I hope you liked what you read. Assuming you read the whole thing, that is. Lol.

I'm not entirely sure where I'm going with this, but I have an idea.

Anyway, thoughts are welcome. Reviews, views, faves, watches, whatever :)

'Til next time!