Chapter 1

Daryl wiped the grease off his hands using a microfiber towel he had on the rack nearby. Being underneath a car for the last hour had done a number on his back, so he stretched, hoping to hear that wonderful cracking sound. It didn't happen. He sighed and tossed the towel down, walking from the garage into the office.

"Hey Daryl," his co-worker Jim greeted him.

Daryl grunted in response, flicking his chin at the binder Jim had open.

"There's one more appointment here that I need you to work on, then you can go home." Jim answered Daryl's question.

Daryl sighed, walking over to the water cooler. "What's it for?"

"Just your basic oil change and tune up. Standard stuff." Jim told him, copying writing receipts into the computer.

The shop had just upgraded and gone digital, so everything was getting taken out of the old filing cabinets and manually entered. They had a website now, and possibly a social media account. Daryl wasn't too certain and he didn't really care. He showed up and he did his job and he got paid. That was what mattered. He finished off the ice water and went back out into the garage. His next car wasn't scheduled to arrive for another ten minutes so the least he could do was see how the other guys were doing on the floor.

Martinez was busy filling one car's tires with air, and Axel was face first in the engine of another. He decided his time was probably better spent preparing his station for the next car, so he set about arranging his tools, and wiping down the counter he kept everything on. When the young woman arrived, he took her keys and politely told her to wait in the office for about thirty minutes.

He carefully pulled her 2012 Volvo into the garage and got to work immediately. Oil changes weren't difficult, but they could get messy. In no time at all Daryl was wiping his hands again and backing her car out of the garage, into a parking space in front of the building.

"Here are you keys ma'am." He said politely, handing them to her. He did not fail to notice that her fingers brushed his as she took them back.

"Thank you…Daryl." She said, reading the name sewn into his coveralls. A small grin took over her candy-red lips.

Daryl walked over to the desk with her, and rolled his eyes at Jim, indicating that he could cash her out himself. Jim took the hint and excused himself to the back with his binder.

"Alright miss…the oil change comes to $39 today." He stated.

She pulled out a credit card and handed it to him, and he looked down to type in the numbers. "Amanda, that's a nice name." He told her as he handed it back.

"Thanks." She said with a smile. "I've had it my whole life."

Daryl grinned. It wasn't too often he met someone good looking with a nice sense of humor. "Here's your receipt for you today. You have any trouble with that thing you know where to bring it."

Amanda turned and gave Daryl a little wave as she pushed open the door and left. Jim poked his head out from the back office.

"You get lucky?" He asked.

Daryl just shook his head and sighed. "You know how hard it is meeting people. 'Sides, what am I supposed to do about Merle?" Daryl typed up the finishing paperwork on the keyboard, little notes to put in her customer file. "Dating isn't the same anymore." He confessed.

Jim nodded, coming back into the office proper. "I don't know how you do it man, honestly. Not sure what I'd do in your position." Jim clapped him on the back. "You get on home. I'm sure you've worrying about him all day."

"You have no idea." Daryl walked into the back office and grabbed his timecard to punch out. "Thanks man." He yelled out to Jim.

He grabbed his leather jacket, his keys, his helmet, and gave Jim a wave goodbye. Out in the parking lot he quickly straddled his motorcycle and revved up, eager to get home. It would take him at least thirty minutes in Atlanta traffic, but he didn't mind the drive. Daryl used to live in an apartment downtown, third floor, with a beautiful view of the city. It had been home for several years. But then Merle had gotten in his accident and Daryl's life had changed.

His new house was just outside of the city, and was modest. But it had everything that Daryl needed, and had been outfitted to accommodate Merle. Daryl felt more comfortable leaving Merle alone now than he had been six months ago, but that didn't mean he wasn't always thinking about his older brother and how something horrible could have happened while he was at the shop.

A little after five in the evening, he pulled into his driveway right next to his truck. He usually only drove it when he took Merle out or he had to grab something at the store. His bike was faster, and better on gas. As Daryl walked up the steps to his porch, fishing for his keys, he noticed some of the bushes growing awry. I'll have to get the pruning shears out here soon, he thought to himself.

"Merle!" Daryl yelled as he pushed open the door. "You eat yet?"

The house was quiet for a moment, before Daryl heard the familiar sound against the wood flooring that meant Merle was around.

"You think I've eaten? Without my baby brother? What kind of man do you take me for?" Merle called from the kitchen.

Daryl rolled his eyes. "The kind to wait for the guy with the wallet to show up."

He could just imagine the grin on Merle's face as he called back "Well, sure, I can't pay the delivery guy."

Daryl shrugged out of his leather jacket and put it on the hall tree before walking into the kitchen. There, rooting around in the fridge, was Merle.

"How come we don't have anything in here?" Merle asked him.

"We do. You just don't want it."

With a noncommittal grunt, Merle maneuvered himself out of the path of the fridge door, and leaned a hand over to close it. Getting his hands on his wheels, he spun himself around to face Daryl. "So what's for dinner? Chinese takeout or pizza?"

"What ya want?"

"I could go for some cashew chicken myself." Merle answered, using one hand to spin himself around in circles, something which annoyed the ever living shit out of Daryl. Especially in the kitchen.

"Can you not?" Daryl asked, moving towards the kitchen drawers to find a takeout menu. He knew there was one stashed around here somewhere.

"Not what? Entertain myself?" Merle asked, but already obliging his brother by wheeling himself into the living room.

Daryl sighed as the number rang for their usual takeout joint. After eight months of Merle's bullshit, Daryl was getting a little tired of living with his brother. But Merle had nowhere else to go. And if he was being honest with himself, his brother's company was better than being alone.

"Yeah, hello? Yeah it's Daryl. Listen, we'll take a number 12, a number 22, and two sides of white rice. Yeah extra soy sauce. OK. Thanks." He walked around the corner, finding Merle flipping through the channels on their TV. "Ben says it'll be about twenty minutes so I'm heading out soon."

"Can't I come with you? I've been inside all day." Merle whined, dropping his head back to his shoulder, staring imploringly at Daryl.

Daryl glared at him. It would be a longer trip with Merle, and he knew it. He'd have to get him out of the chair, and put the chair in the truck, and Merle would insist on going into the restaurant with him. He just sighed. "Alright. Let me change."

Daryl walked to his bedroom, the only part of the house he asked Merle to leave alone. It was small, containing only his bed and a dresser and a small nightstand. Merle had the master bedroom, so he could have access to his own bigger bathroom and a bit more space. Daryl had never needed very much, so it didn't bother him. He changed quickly out of his work coveralls into jeans and a plaid button up, throwing on some boots.

"Alright Merle, let's go."

Merle practically whooped with excitement at the idea of getting to leave the house, and eagerly led the way outside. He slowed down on the wheelchair ramp but made it quickly over to the passenger side of the truck. He waited impatiently for Daryl to lock the door and double check that he had his wallet and his keys.

"I'm not getting any younger!" He shouted.

Daryl rolled his eyes, annoyed already. And they hadn't even left the house. He walked around the truck and wordlessly opened the passenger door. He leaned over, and waited for Merle to get his arms around him before he lifted and gently deposited him in the passenger seat. Daryl had to take a minute to remember how to fold up his brother's chair, but then that went into the bed of the truck.

Walking around to the driver's side and getting in, all Daryl could think was how did my life get so fucking difficult?

A/N: Hey! This was the first chapter of my new Bethyl fic, thanks so much for clicking! I've dabbled once into the world of Walking Dead fic, also with Bethyl but that was very short. I've got an outline all planned up for this but I am writing and uploading as I go. I'm sure it will be a fun ride :) please review and comment, anything helps honestly!