AN: I got this idea while watching the scene where Daryl is sitting outside the store they're about to hit, with Michonne, and the boy that was trying to guess what Daryl was before apocalypse…he guesses that Daryl was a homicide cop, and Daryl say's he was right… So the idea was born, we're starting pre-show, but only to tie in Merle's story as well. AU story thru season 3… reimagined, will be Caryl, friend ship to start, then moving forward from there.

Disclaimer: I don't own the walking dead, just taking the charcters out to play with for a little while :)

April

Daryl dropped the phone back in the cradle on an eye roll. Tommy, who Daryl had graduated the police academy with, and they had gone on in separate ways. Daryl was mainly going on and working in Homicide, drugs, and undercover, in Atlanta and Tommy, was working in Jefferson County, at the police station there as a deputy. He had been calling to tell him they picked up his father on a DUI and hit and run. Daryl brought his hand up to his mouth and chewed on his cuticle then sighed; they had told him he had a BAC of .18. The woman he hit was in the hospital and unconscious in critical condition. He'd been driving on a suspended license, and had a previous record, so he'd have to stay in Jefferson County correctional until trial, no bail. Should the woman not recover, he'd be set up on vehicular manslaughter, as he didn't have the intent to kill. At the moment, he was being brought to the hospital, and Daryl was needed to come in for paperwork.

Daryl leaned back in his office chair, and reached into his pocket for his cell phone, and punched in Merle's number; he knew he probably wouldn't contact him at the moment he was overseas on his 6th and final tour. It was late over there, so he might be already asleep. As he thought it went directly to voicemail. So Daryl just left him a message with the urgency to call him back asap, and not to care about the time. He sighed, and ended the call.

He just wanted his brother back, here…home and in Georgia, where he didn't have to worry about him always... The last time he'd seen Merle was twelve years ago, the day Daryl graduated and joined the police force. Even then, Merle had only gotten time off for a three-day weekend; then he had to fly back to base camp. But even before that Daryl hadn't seen much of Merle since he was eight, he'd come home back from his last stint in juvie, and got into it with the old man, almost killed the bastard. Daryl, looking back, almost wished he had.

Merle had taken off again…staying barely long enough to nod at Daryl…And Daryl remembers that day all too well; it was the night he got his scars on his back. His Daddy, angrily threw his half bottle of whiskey at the screen door, narrowly missing Merle's head. But Merle just kept going…or Daryl knew he would've turned around and killed him. Daryl could almost hear Merle's motorcycle rev, and him peeling outta the driveway.

Instead of the office, he was sitting in, he was now in his childhood home in Sweet Water, GA, they lived in a two-story home, right on the edge of the forest, Sweet Water was one of the towns that surrounded the Chattahoochee National Forest of Northern, GA. He was in the living room, and staring at the back of his old man's angry form in front of him…he could feel his heart begin to race in his chest, and sweat start to run down the back of his neck, as he slowly tried to become invisible, and back out of the living room, and run…like his Momma, always told him…to run, to hide in the forest behind their home. That was his plan, anyhow…but he didn't so much as take three steps, before his father's hand clapped brutally down on his little shoulder, causing it to bruise on impact. He wanted to run, but that hand was clamping even harder down on his flesh…digging in.

'Where do ya think you are goin' ya little shit!' His father's foul smelling breath blew in his face causing his eyes to water, and causing him to want to gag at the smell of stale whiskey, and cigarettes…

Daryl tried desperately not to cry, as the belt cracked against his bare back, and the metal of the buckle cut in over and over again…but it was all too much for an eight-year-old, but his daddy only hit him harder, and harder still…calling him names, and telling him how weak he is, that Dixon men don't cry. After he was done, his old man gave him a firm kick to the ribs, and Daryl could feel one crack. It was loud, in the silent room, the only sound was his sobs, and his father's heavy pants, and then the door slamming, an engine revving… Daryl was lying there…on the musty carpet, the ragged, dirty carpet scratching at his wet cheeks. He cried until he had no more tears…and then gingerly rose from the carpet. He was left to take care of himself, as he didn't see his daddy come back home for another week, off on a bender. Daryl also hadn't gone to school for that week neither, causing Mrs. Wilson to show up at their door, and ring the bell. Daryl knew he looked something awful, with the black eye his daddy had gifted him, and he was barely moving because his back was hurting, it hurt to wear a shirt. His little body had hurt so bad; he couldn't even lie down on his back, and to lay on his tummy had hurt as well. He didn't want to answer the door, but for fear that it would get back to his Daddy, and his daddy would come home and beat him again he went to get the door.

He knew Mrs. Wilson didn't believe the story he told…she kept asking where his daddy was, and he'd lied and told her he was hunting…and must have forgotten to call him in sick. She was eying him skeptically but also looking at him with slightly panicky eyes. Like she could tell that he was in pain…but, there wasn't a thing that she was going to do about it. Most of the town knew that William was abusive, he'd knocked Merle around in public, and his Momma, when she'd been alive, she'd always have bruises on her arms, or split lips, black eyes…and the one time that he had to call an ambulance for her.

So Daryl knew what Mrs. Wilson was seeing, he knew that look all too well. She finally had to excuse herself, and leave, but not before he saw her eyes grow moist, and she takes pity on him. He hated that, people taking pity on him… But sometimes he just wished, that someone was brave enough to get his daddy away from him…and not just abandon him…like Merle did.

Before his Momma died, he'd only ever yelled at him, sure he'd seen him raise his fist to Merle, and beat him down occasionally, and he'd seen him raise his fist to his momma, too…he'd Only gotten hit once, before that when he was six because he'd come down the stairs looking for Momma because she never returned to tuck him in… And that's when he saw, that daddy having just arrived home from the bar…drunk off his ass, and was hitting his momma, and making her cry. Daryl, six years old, barely weighing 50lbs, had thrown himself at his Momma, taking the blow that was meant for her. Then he was bawling and screaming. Because Momma, was trying to push him behind her, as his daddy beat on him instead.

The beatings began shortly after his momma had died in the fire, it was like something snapped in him, and with Merle off in Juvie, only having come home for the funeral, he didn't have anywhere else to put his rage…and now, after Merle leaving… Daryl had been where he had turned to release that rage…and he only whipped him harder, as Daryl bawled into the ragged, dirty carpet of the living room.

Daryl blew out a heavy breath and pinched the bridge of his nose as his head pounded behind his eyes he hadn't flashed on any of that since…well, he never. But fuck, if it had almost felt like he was back in that living room in his old house.

Christ! His heart was racing, and he was sweating something awful, and he couldn't get his breath back to normal. That day had been particularly hard, and Daryl, generally cool under pressure… was sickened by what he had seen that morning. He'd grown up under the rule of an abusive drunken bastard, but even as much of a dumbass that his father was, there was this line that he had not crossed, he'd gotten strong, and he had a brother that sure yes he'd abandoned him… He'd been fifteen it had been seven years later, the next time he'd seen his brother. Merle shortly, after he'd left when Daryl was eight, he had joined up with the Military, sure he'd wrote him when he could, but once the war had started, Merle had been stationed overseas, made sure to send his letters to Papa Norman's home instead, and when his granddaddy, had come to see him give him those letters, he'd left a forwarding address, so Daryl would be able to write him. He sometimes did, but he didn't know what to say to Merle, he hardly knew his brother.

But, a lot of those years, Daryl had tuned out…because they were filled with abuse, and hardships that no little boy should have to live through. When Merle came home after boot camp, and before knew he was going overseas, Merle had shown him how to fight. Maybe his brother knew…Daryl still didn't know…but it helped, although their father had always been bigger than Daryl, he was able to take him down after Merle showed him what he learned in the Army, and how to fight. It was then…Daryl began getting stronger. And it was then, when Daryl was able to take down the old man, that was when beatings had stopped. But the abuse hadn't; he still cussed him out for existing, or better yet paid no attention to him. Since his Momma had died, Daryl had to learn to take care of himself.

Earlier that morning, they'd been called in on a case…a break in it. A little girl had gone missing, her father had kidnapped her, they knew that because they'd at least nailed it down to that. The little girl's mother hadn't made it. He'd killed her, and ran with their little girl.

It was a high-end neighborhood, gated community, homes prices began in the half-million range, so the houses were huge, as Daryl drove by them. Joel Miller, his partner, snorted from beside him, he'd been his partner for about ten years now; he was older than him; he was built like a linebacker intimidating, dark hair trimmed short, neatly trimmed beard and brooding eyes… Wasn't the type of guy that you wanted to mess with. He stood a little taller than Daryl, but usually, it was Daryl that did the intimidating, something that people called he had a mean face. But, if he had a mean face…Joel certainly had a scary one…

"Low 500 thousand, shit…" Joel's dark eye's narrowed as he looked out at the passing scenery…For both Daryl and Joel, both being backwoods guy's, this wasn't a place they'd feel comfortable driving in much less ever, living at. It was just houses…huge mansions – and little trees, you lived on top of your neighbor, hell if you didn't have your blinds closed, you could see into the next room clearly, and probably read the tiny print on the computer screen. There was no fucking privacy.

"You might wanna save up you pension Miller if ya is thinking of buying this shit." Daryl muttered sarcastically, "Hell…you could raise cattle here…" He smirked.

" Dixon, you think ya wanna settle down, and raise a family here?" Joel snorted, and Daryl chuckled. "Y'all could raise a big family, have a big enough pool to put ya boat in, haul in some fish, and ya could see if you catch them suckers."

Daryl was chuckling and shaking his head, "Seriously, how the hell do people live like this, on top of each other…no privacy." Daryl's eyes darkened, and Joel nodded.

"My cousin, the football player, for the Falcons can't rave more about it…" Joel shook his head. "He even invited us to dinner, think the homes go for the low 800 thousand over there." Joel raised an eyebrow.

"Ya goin'" Daryl turned to look at him briefly, eyebrow raised.

"Hell no," Joel growled.

"You think the wife will go for that?"

"He's my cousin!" Joel snorted out a laugh.

Daryl shook his head, and rolled his eyes, "You know how that'll blow over." He reached out and patted Joel's shoulder in sympathy.

"Oh shit…you're right." Joel's head hit the back of the seat with a sigh. "Don't you laugh, or I'll force ya to come with me." Joel turned his head and was pointing at him.

Daryl chuckled, "Hey now…I'm not the one getting laid."

"Hell I'm gonna find ya a woman, you wouldn't be laughing so much then…" He shook his head.

"Not happening…" Daryl shook his head…

"uh-huh…and don't come cryin' to me Dixon, when you finally do find a woman." Joel snorted.

"Ain't cryin', even if I had a woman." Daryl shook his head laughing at his partner.

"You would if they bring the kids into it." Joel snorted.

"Got me there…I'm a sucker for kids, now…we're almost there…hell, the houses, just keep getting bigger and bigger. With no land, well with the monthly payment, I'm sure they can't buy fuel, so no mowing." Daryl shrugged, looking out at this monster of a home… "Ya know, they could probably have 30-40 head in there, and not feel crowded." Daryl snorted.

"They all is having block parties…." Joel mocked.

Daryl rolled his eyes, and turned on another street; this one was the one where the house would be. "We're almost there." Daryl frowned, all joking aside, they were putting their game faces on now.

"Ya gonna park out front, or few houses down?" Joel asked as they approached,

"Where I can 'spose" There was something going on where he thought the house would be. So they parked across the street from the home, and a few houses down. Daryl jumped out, doing a quick check of the neighborhood before checking his glock. "A'right! Game faces on! Keep your eyes open; we don't know what we're walkin' into."

The hairs on the back of Daryl's neck were prickling as they neared the house, and it was almost as if the air temperature dropped twenty degrees, as a chill filled the hot and humid air. Daryl's intuition peaked, as he looked around, he saw movement on the porch, and a hint of silver. He signaled, "Stay down low, guns out." He whispered.

Suddenly, they were getting shot at. But Daryl only counted the one man firing at them. "DROP YOUR WEAPON!" Joel, Daryl's partner, shouted. After calling out they were the police, but he nearly had his head taken off. Daryl signaled for him to get back down… This guy was taking no prisoners… he was a case, of shoot to kill if needed. A bullet slammed into the tree, not far from Daryl's head, he'd, unfortunately, been trying to direct Tony, who was new to the team where to stand, and now he was getting fired at. Daryl wasn't in the position he wanted to be in. He got himself down lower, on his stomach and looked through the grass…that was long enough to hide him, he just didn't have much cover, if he moved…guy could take his head off. Then suddenly, Tony was screaming and waving his arms like a banshee at the gunman…

"What the HELL are you doing!" He hissed, but not loud enough for the boy to hear him. Daryl growled, well it gave him enough time to cut up and behind the tree he was aiming to get to. But just as he did that, Tony was hit. "God dammit!" He swore and slid up and over as the gunman once again was distracted. By his movements.

"WE GOT YOU SURROUNDED!" this time, it was John instead of Joel screaming…

Daryl cursed, and was working on covering Joel, when Joel got hit, this guy was a good shot, the bullet hit Joel in the center of his chest, and Daryl prayed that he was wearing his damn vest. The bullet knocked Joel to the ground. But he quickly rolled, and stood.

Daryl had no choice, from his position on the ground, he had aimed…taking out the guy's firing arm. But that didn't seem to stop him as he turned than now bleeding firing arm on him. Daryl aimed and fired…Taking the man down, just as the bullet missed his head by the skin of his teeth. He could still feel the bullet's heat as it had passed by his ear.

Daryl, scrambled to his feet…checking on his partner a few feet away, as their other team members were tending to Tony, who was quickly bleeding out if he'd only been faster.

"I'm fine; I'm fine…" Joel gasped, shoving Daryl's hand's away.

"He hit you…?" Daryl panted, his hands were shaking slightly as he searched for blood…his eyes looking for bullet holes.

Joel glared at him, and Daryl pushed to his feet, and over to the dead gunman with the bullet in his chest. He knelt, his gun still out checking for a pulse, but there was none.

Daryl helped Joel to his feet, "You boy's got this?" Daryl growled, he was still panting hard.

"We got it." John hissed back; he was holding his phone to his ear. Calling in an ambulance, he was certain.

Daryl nodded firmly, and signaled for Joel to come with him, he held his glock low, and they both walked up the driveway. As they got near the house, there was as if the temperature had dropped fifty degrees. Further, it wasn't a welcoming home…not at all. There was a darkness that surrounded them…felt like they had walked out of one world and into the next, sorta like the twilight zone, just unexplained, as Daryl walked around the perimeter, checking the home, they didn't have any cover, 'side themselves, so they kept it quick.

Daryl shivered as he stepped up onto the porch, and looked down at the welcome mat, ya…this wasn't welcoming, he shuddered as Goosebumps broke out over his skin under his leather jacket, he wasn't cold…but the chill that was in the air was freaking them both out. Daryl noticed Joel shudder too, and he nodded for him to open the door, standing in a way to guard his partner.

Joel reached out with his hand, and tried the door; it was locked. He looked over his shoulder at Daryl. Daryl stepped closer, pulling out the kit, he'd much rather use his knife, but that wasn't an option here. He wasn't working undercover; he was working on duty. Undercover, he would've used his knife, like the redneck asshole that he was supposed to be. Daryl stooped down, and flitted with the lock, cursing when it didn't work right away. They had a warrant so that they could go in. Daryl let out a heavy breath, as the lock finally gave way. He half expected an alarm to sound, but it didn't.

Daryl reached out and pushed the door open standing to the left, so he was covered by the door's frame, his glock in hand. He nodded at Joel. The floor, was hardwood…natural coloring, high gloss, it was meant to look polished…but it didn't add any brightness to the home, or they couldn't feel it over the chill that they were feeling. Daryl swallowed thickly and moved in low, stooping low as he glanced around the room. There were stairs to his immediate left, the living room to his right, and kitchen was dead ahead of them. The stairwell to his left was an open stairwell; they'd be more vulnerable if they didn't clear that first.

Daryl motioned for Joel to follow him; they had to clear the home…check the rooms. The hallway they came too when they came to the second floor was also hardwood, the walls…Daryl squinted, looked as if they were supposed to be a warm yellow. He sent a side-eye towards Joel, swallowing thickly. From the look on his face, he didn't like it either.

They stayed together, clearing room to room. The first door they came upon, Daryl opened the door, still staying low and to the left in case there was someone there to jump out at them, it looked like a guest bedroom from what Daryl could tell, the room was colored in cream….cream colored carpet, walls were a rose-tinted like cream, and there was a very fine layer of dust on the furniture in that room, meaning it'd been a while where it had been lived in…it was empty, save the bed, a desk with a computer on it…no pictures of any sort, and had a half-bath, toilet, and shower…sink obviously.

They stepped back out into the hallway, more rooms the same…some empty, unfinished… There were six rooms on the second floor. They were now coming upon the last one; Daryl was starting to feel a little bit anxious, there had been a ticking noise, that he'd been able to hear for a while now. The longer he was in the house, it didn't sound like it was coming from this floor.

They'd been trading off from room to room; it was Joel's turn to open the door…But neither of them was prepared for what they saw as they got to the second floor, the last bedroom, Daryl thought it might be the master bedroom. The door creaked open, and Joel froze in the doorway and lowered his gun.

"Aww…god," He choked out

Daryl moved quickly around his partner, having to slightly shift him over as he had stopped in the middle of the doorway, well stood frozen.

Daryl froze to a stop, and lowered his gun, his eyes darted around the room making sure they were alone, then they fell back to the little girl, that lay in a puddle of blood, he sucked in a ragged breath, and moved towards the little girl, and knelt, pulling out his rubber gloves, putting them on, sending a prayer up to JC that he could feel a pulse. His hand was trembling as he curled his fingers out to touch the little girls neck, feeling for a pulse. It felt like a long minute until he felt something.

He let out a heavy breath…removing his fingers, and curling his hand into a fist.

"Is she?" He heard Joel step closer, and rose to his feet, turning at the sound of Joel's voice, meeting his gaze…

"It's very faint…" Daryl choked out, he pulled off the gloves, tossing them into the bag they came in. He was pulling out his phone and calling 911. Daryl knelt back down, not touching the girl, but looking for the source of bleeding.

"Should we move her?" Joel asked.

Daryl shook his head sadly, "No…there's too much blood, Dammit." A painful lump filled his throat. He pulled out another set of gloves, putting them on. "Keep a lookout; we need to find the source of bleeding," Daryl swallowed, as he moved the girl's hair from her shoulder, there was a lot of blood coming from the shoulder area. "It looks like she's been stabbed, in the upper neck, missed the main artery…" His voice faded, and he tried to swallow around the lump in his throat. "We need ta, try and stop the bleeding…got any gauze in that bag of your's?" Daryl asked.

"Yeah…" Joel rummaged through the kit, and pulled out a large gauze pad, he had his gloves on already but handed Daryl the package…not opened. Didn't want to soil the bandage, before they used it.

"Gonna need some help here," Daryl muttered, as he placed the gauze, and motioned for Joel to come over. "I think they're more holes." He bit his lip, his jaw clenching. "Chest wound…shit" Daryl hissed,

Both of them worked to try and get the blood to stop, "I hear them, need ya down there Joel" Daryl choked out around the lump that had filled his throat again, his eyes were burning. His heart was racing painfully in his chest. His voice sounded like he'd swallowed glass, but his voice didn't break.

Joel's eyes mirrored his own… He blinked rapidly, to clear the tears that had filled them. "A'ight…" He choked out.

Once the EMT's arrived, Daryl went down to check on his other men…they were doing ok, Tony was getting treated by the other ambulance that had arrived. Daryl hurried back into the house after that. Meeting Joel at the bottom of the stairs.

"They still working on her?" Daryl asked. Joel nodded, and Daryl made his way to the stairs.

He made it to the room; they were still working on the girl…but she'd lost too much blood, and they couldn't move her yet. He walked in, just as they were using the AED… She didn't have much fight left. Daryl turned away, meeting Joel's eyes. His face was twisted in agony.

"Why don't you go check up on the other guy's, I'll be okay here." He whispered, understanding the pain that Joel was feeling, he had a little girl…around 6, so it was tearing him apart. Dammit, it was tearing him apart.

Joel nodded and turned to leave the room. Daryl dragged a weary hand over his face, and turned back to the EMT's; they were still working on her. It was another 5 minutes later, touch and go…when he heard that she was breathing on her own. Daryl let out a relieved breath, and hung his head, trying to swallow the painful lump filling his throat.

"She's in critical condition, but stable enough to move, LT." The head EMT, walked over, "You acted fast." Daryl nodded, and huffed out a breath, and tried to push down that lump that filled his throat, trying to grab a shred of his usual calm… Even though the girl might make it, he still felt sick to his stomach, gutted…

"A'ight" He nodded, meeting the EMT's eyes. He stepped out of the room, and pulled out his phone, leaning against the wall calling in homicide. He made his way back down the stairs, and stepped over to Joel, putting a light hand on his partner's shoulder. "…She's alive…they brought her back."

Joel hung his head, as he nodded…"Oh, thank God."

Daryl swallowed, thickly, finally able to dislodge the lump, his voice still sounded like broken glass, but at least it wasn't breaking "…I know, take a break if ya need it…" He patted his shoulder. "When ya get back we gotta clear the rest of the house." He whispered.

"How long?" Joel asked hoarsely, his voice thick with emotion.

"Fifteen tops," Daryl said while closing his eyes, and rubbing the back of his neck.

"You ok?" Joel asked.

"Why in the hell-"He broke off, Why in the hell would he be ok? Daryl closed his eyes and counted to ten. Then sucked in a ragged breath, shaking his head no… "Gotta be…" He sighed, then swallowed again, finding that calm "Come on" He said gruffly, checking the glock, and the safety, he held it low but at ready. Signaling Joel to do the same. "Stick close," Daryl whispered, as they walked towards a T in the hallway.

Daryl signaled Joel to stop; he needed to listen; he had really good ears… There was some clawing…scratching? It was an odd sound…tapping like computer keys…he wasn't sure. "Ya hear something?" Joel asked quietly, causing Daryl to jump.

He nodded, pointed at his eyes, and to for Joel to be his lookout. Daryl was quiet; he usually could sneak up on anything. So Joel just nodded and stayed put. He didn't need him crashing around when Daryl was like a ghost when he walked. He just didn't like Daryl going on alone. But he crouched down, and tilted his head to listen, keeping Daryl close where he could hear him if he needed him.

Daryl crouched low to the ground, and raised his glock, as he reached up with his other hand to twist the doorknob, he was praying that the door wouldn't creak… It didn't creak… The room was darker than the rest of the house like it was intentionally darkened, maybe they had the room darkening shades drawn. He waited for his eyes to adjust, and listened, but he heard nothing. He pulled out his flashlight, held it low turning it on…scanned the room, it was empty. Void of even furniture, but that wasn't the only odd thing…there was a stain in the middle of the cream colored carpet. Daryl slowly stepped into the room, but not before signaling to Joel to follow, but quietly, he didn't need the man running down to him when there were still more rooms to check. It was a big fucking house.

Daryl swallowed, and rubbed his wrist over his mouth. "Ain't nothing but a stain…here…but it looks like, there was something here…the stain I'll bet is blood." Daryl paused, as his foot came down on the floor in the room, it didn't feel right…spongy like "S'squishy." Daryl furrowed his brows…

"I reckon…they tried to clean it?" Joel replied rubbing his beard.

"Looks that way," Daryl replied, as he walked into the room, his glock drawn. He pushed the closet door open, shining his light in there…it was the only other door in the room. "Bedsheets…are bloody" He pointed out, frowning. He took a step back, and Joel stepped forward and looked in. They both stepped away from the closet, and back out into the hallway.

Daryl did the same, now that they'd found more… Joel wasn't going to let him go off on his own. "I'm sticking with ya Dixon." Daryl gave him the nod, people needed people.

The rest of the rooms, house, was a bust. But Daryl still couldn't find the source of the scratching. "Can you hear that scratching?" Daryl asked Joel.

"You got better ears than me, man, I don't hear anything" Daryl grimaced, but nodded, the rest of the crime scene investigators were searching the home now, and homicide was there for the father.

Barry, one of the crime scene investigator's, came over to speak with him. Daryl nodded at Joel, and he stepped away, not that he had to…just at the moment Daryl was the senior officer, or in charge of the crime scene.

Then went out and found Joel again after he gotten done speaking with Barry, his team would move through the rooms, and looking for evidence, and such. "We need to get outta here and check on Tony, and the boys," Daryl grumbled as they stepped out into the hallway. " Barry said his team is on it, we got teams going over the rest of the house again..." Daryl stated running a hand through his hair, getting it out of his eyes, he needed to get it cut.

"They're bringing the little girl to Grady…she's in critical condition…" Daryl's voice faded, and he leaned against the wall next to Joel… he lowered his head.

"I know…I feel the same way, man." Joel nodded, and Daryl glanced at him startled. "What? You don't think after working together for ten years I can't read ya?" He shook his head.

"Well, Shit…" He ran a hand over his face. They started to make their way down the hallway, and down the stairs out into the hot sunshine in silence. Then walked up to his other men, who were all standing around in silence with the EMT's. "How's Tony?" He called out gruffly.

"They got the bleeding under control…what about the girl?" John asked.

Daryl bit his cheek his jaw twisting as he shook his head sadly. "Taking her to Grady…lost her for a time, but revived…critical" He nodded in the direction of the now dead father. "Barry's here with homicide... we'll debrief shortly" He looked away from John, his eyes narrowing. "I'll be back…" He nodded at John.

Daryl felt like he was being pulled in every direction, he was starting to wish he wasn't the one in charge; he just wanted to bolt. He was usually calm and collected on a job…with Joel constantly trying to rattle him. He'd spoken to the-the commander already, so he was finishing up speaking with the EMT's that were just wrapping up with Tony. He was told by the EMT's that Tony was unconscious, but that the guy's had done well by getting the bleeding under control, he was being taken to Grady Memorial and likely being prepped for surgery on the way there. The little girl was already at Grady, and in emergency surgery, for internal bleeding. The next step, which they were already in were looking for next of kin, but they had already known from the case that the little girl's mother, that the mother was an only child, as well as her father the same, and as for Grandparents…they'd been both deceased, so this little girl…six years old would be going into the system, and that was leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. Daryl had known kids in the system…and as bad as his home life had been while he was growing up…at least he had a home…he had a bastard of an old man, but he'd rather…well much rather have taken the beatings, and the emotional abuse…rather than be a child in the system…and that was saying a lot.

As the morning went on, it was getting more humid, and after another hour or so of paperwork stage, and overseeing them bagging and taking the father away. Daryl made his way over to his truck, opening the door and pulling his shades down from the visor, he slipped them on over his eyes; he was getting a massive headache, from squinting into the bright sun. He pulled off his leather jacket and tossed it onto the bench seat of the truck. Thankful, that today at least had been a little cooler so far, and he was wearing one of his cutoff shirts, under that, he was wearing his bulletproof vest.

His chest felt tight, so he needed to get that off, the other men had been taking there's off too, Daryl, unbuttoned his cutoff, and pulled it off, then unstrapped his vest, removing it, he was just wearing his t-shirt then, then just pulled his cutoff back on, and was buttoning it up when Joel walked back over.

"Had to get mine off too, bullet hurt." He was showing Daryl his bruise; that was located right over where his heart was.

"Well, Shit…"Daryl hissed out, bringing his thumb up to his mouth to bite off skin there that was already irritated from chewing on it previously. He was liable to chew himself bloody. Daryl, reached back into his truck, and stretched to reach the glovebox, he had a tube of some peppermint shit, that one of the ladies had given him for his birthday that year, it was good for bruises, and since Daryl was always bruised up in some form, it seemed to work. "Here, ya only need a little, but it'll take the sting out." He nodded at it when he turned back around and gave Joel the tube to use.

"What the hell is it?" He asked squinting while reading the label.

"Holly gave it to me for my birthday…good for bruises." He grumbled.

Joel snorted, and then opened the tube, and rubbed it over his chest. Flinching as he did it. "Shit that stings…fuck!" He said wincing and handed Daryl the tube back.

"Ya…reckon it does…might wanna have the EMT's look at it."

"Does it look that bad to ya?" Joel asked.

Daryl stepped closer, and Joel pulled his shirt aside, he squinted at it. "I touch it, and it feels like something' busted in there," Joel said as he touched it and winced again.

"Then quit touchin' it…" Daryl grumbled, and rolled his eyes at him.

"Can you feel it and see if it's busted…"

Daryl scowled, "Ain't no doc, how the hell would I know if ya busted a rib or not?" He said while closing the truck door, and walking towards the EMT's that were still packing up. "Get 'em to take a look, there's a pretty Lil' blond, right over there just waitin on ya…I ain't touching ya." Daryl grumbled when Joel kept following Daryl growled, "That's an order…"He snapped.

"It don't hurt that much…"

"Then stop ya's bitchin'"Daryl rolled his eyes, and went over to speak with the EMT's and the other guys. "You guy's go on, get y'selves cleaned up…" Daryl clamped a hand down on John's shoulder.

"Alright, thanks, Daryl," John said and walked over towards the cars…he had wet wipes in the car, Daryl reckoned.

Then he turned to the head EMT that was packing up.

"You get hit? Lt. Dixon." The EMT asked,

Daryl narrowed his eyes at him behind his shades, how the hell did he know his name…oh right, because he had his badge out with his name on it, hanging around his neck. His name was Fred, "Naw…Fred, I'm not hit…just the one in charge at the moment." He replied, then his phone startled them both, "excuse me," Daryl grunted, and walked out of earshot, and answered it, it was the police captain.

Daryl signaled Joel over to the EMT's, maybe then…he'll Get his damn chest looked at and quit his bitching… Daryl grumbled to himself…he was worried about his partner…but nearly dropped his phone, when Captain Stevens told him there was another kidnapping…and they were calling in his team.

"But Cap, ya sayin' this is another one?" Daryl asked.

"We don't know yet Dixon, but…apparently, he had an affair…another son and she reported him missing last night." The Captain stated gravely.

Daryl sighed, and ran his free hand through his sweaty hair… "s'house was empty, sides the girl… Joel and I thoroughly inspected Captain… Homicide did the same…" Daryl trailed off, biting his lip…"But I was hearing this scratching noise…might be a trap door or something." Daryl rubbed his chin in thought.

"Y'all should wait on the team to arrive, the two of you shouldn't go back in alone." Then there was a pause, "Then again…you're the best we got…"

"We'll go back in…if the sound's just that boy…if he's trapped." Daryl growled. "A'right…" Daryl disconnected the call after the Captain told him goodbye with his orders, and Daryl walked back over to Fred the EMT and noticing that yes, Joel was getting looked over.

"Ya listened," Daryl smirked,

"Yeah, well…when you give orders, I listen, boss." Daryl rolled his eyes at that.

"When your through, we got orders…vest back on." Daryl replied quietly, and walked back over to his truck, all while unbuttoning his shirt, and opening the truck door to pull his vest out and strap it back on over his t-shirt he was still wearing. He pulled his shirt back on buttoning it up, and jacket went over that. His arms were getting a little burnt from being out in the hot noon sun.

"They think it's just bruised." Joel walking up. "Hurts like a bitch, though," Joel grumbled as he fastened his vest over his t-shirt.

Daryl grunted, then nodded. "They do…" He agreed, only with that Daryl had been shot before. His had just been a flesh wound, in the upper shoulder, but it still hurt like a bitch after, burnt something awful.

"S'right, you've been shot…how come you get all the good scars." Joel snorted, and Daryl again rolled his eyes, although Joel couldn't see that behind his shades.

"Got a lot of scars man…didn't wanna add another." Daryl bitterly replied, Joel was one of the only people besides his granddad that knew his story, knew of those scars.

He clamped his hand down on his shoulder..."That's why I asked earlier if you were ok." Joel's face twisted…"'Cause I sure as hell ain't." He blew out a breath and looked away. And it wasn't that Joel was a softy, he was a tough bastard… but he was also a father, and that little girl was his little girl's age.

"We gotta be…pull your shit together; we'll get thru this…we gotta." He pulled his gun out, and checked the clip again, then putting it back in its holster. "A'right then, come on."

He walked back over to John, and Steve. "Captain said there's been another kidnapping, same guy…we're Gonna check that home for any secret doors…shot in the dark…I s'pose. Gonna need ya both." Daryl explained.

But it was a dead end; there was nothing. They did, however, find information…that he was planning on the kidnapping, but the boy wasn't there. The scratching had been a Raccoon, that had somehow got stuck in the cellar. But they couldn't find any hidden doors or nothing. Daryl had hoped, that maybe, just maybe they had caught a break with this one.

Their next stop was Grady, the rest of his team had gone back to the station. Daryl with Joel, walked into Grady Memorial, to check on Tony, and the little girl, Alyssa, she was still in surgery. The nurse had said she was in God's hands now. Daryl grunted, and nodded…he turned with Joel and made their way up to intensive care, to see Tony, he was still unconscious; he was also critical.

Daryl's chest was tight, when he got done talking to the doctors about Tony, he rubbed it as he walked up to Joel. "How is he?" His partner asked.

"Lost him for a bit in surgery…the wife said, they were putting him in a medically induced coma, for his body to heal. They next 72 hours will be critical." Daryl rubbed his chest again. "Alyssa, the little girl…still in surgery, they…Maggie, the nurse," Daryl stopped, he hooked a thumb over his shoulder. Then cleared his throat, "…Placing it in God's hands…" Daryl turned to look at Joel.

"…Shit" Joel dropped his head.

Daryl clamped a hand down on his shoulder. "…yeah" He sighed heavily, "…shit is right, ah we should head back."

"You a'right?" Joel nodded at the hand on Daryl's chest.

"…gotta be," He cleared his throat, "Come on…"

Daryl angrily opened his office door, it had been one hell of an emotional morning, a kidnapping case that they'd been working on, and the abuse end of it all, mirrored his childhood, so it was bringing up a whole hell of a lot of unwanted emotions. So he chose anger because that was the one that he could deal with right now…the rest, seeing that little girl… He closed his eyes, trying to dislodge the pictures that kept cycling through his head as if they were on a huge movie screen. He tossed his leather jacket onto his desk chair, and walked over to the window in the office looking out at the Atlanta skyline; the sun was bright shining off the buildings…It was times like these that he wanted to be in the woods…hunting, he wasn't cut out for the big city, maybe that's why he still chose to drive an hour and a half in everyday… Daryl longed for the woods, out tracking, and hunting with his bow…least after today; he was going on a week-long vacation, and he's spending every minute of that in the woods.

He jumped, startled when his office phone started ringing…Jesus! He'd told them radio silence for an hour so that he could screw his damn head back in place.

But NO, they can't even give him that. He growled as he picked up the phone.

"WHAT!" He snarled…

"Uh…sorry, Daryl Dixon?" A female voice questioned.

Daryl cleared his throat. "That's me." He said gruffly, his voice still holding an edge, but he didn't recognize the voice.

It had been a nurse named Maggie, who was calling from the hospital in Jefferson Memorial Hospital. She began to explain, that they were calling him because his father still hadn't woken up from the accident that early morning. Daryl had thought he wasn't needed until the next morning, but they needed him soon for decisions, they had already run some tests that were coming back alarming.

Although Daryl, had long since, moved away from their childhood home, it was still a pain in the ass, when their father was picked up like he was. And although, their father was a drunken, abusive bastard…Daryl still had a small concern about his welfare. He was blood, though he wouldn't mind if the old man, just up and one day had a freaking coronary… Especially day's like this. Daryl stood, and cracked his neck… He could almost feel his blood pressure rising, along with the rising tide of his anger.

Daryl, walked over to the chair, picking up his riding jacket, and helmet. He had to get out of there, and to Jefferson, to work on some paperwork, that Tommy, said that he had to fill out. His father was firstly being admitted to the hospital, they believed, not only did he have alcohol in his system, but also some drugs.

So he had to come in and sign him for the medical care unit…for eval…Maggie the Nurse said, and since… Being picked up on them type of charges, he was not seen fit to make that decision on his own. Daryl ground his teeth together at that… He didn't want to care for the old man, and there was no way in hell, that he was driving back to Sweet Water, which was a two-hour drive back from Atlanta to take care of him. He could rot in his CELL for all he cared. Daryl could feel a migraine coming on…The only reason, he was doing any of this was because of Grandpa Norman, that was the ONLY reason… Mama's old man had become like a father to both Merle and him, and…HE just always felt obligated to care for William, even if William, was the one that sent their Momma to her early grave.

Daryl had been too young when their mama died, to know why Grandpa Norman tried to take care of William, he knew Merle knew… But Merle never wanted to talk about it; it was off the table so to speak. And Papa Norman, was too good of a man, to tell him otherwise. Maybe it was just because Papa, was that a good man… He'd do this for him, Daryl decided.

Daryl went and explained what was happening to Captain Stevens, then to Joel's office. They both told him to have a safe ride. He was just going to leave his truck there, but Joel said he could drive it home, so Daryl handed his truck keys to Joel, he'd ridden in with him that morning, so that made sense.

An hour and a half later, Daryl, pulled his motorcycle into the parking lot at Jefferson Memorial. Jefferson was a middle-sized town, about an hour and a half North of Atlanta. He parked, and made his way into the Emergency Department, and bout near froze his balls off when he walked in. He slipped his leather jacket back on, the AC musta been on the fritz or something.

"Can I help you, Sir?" A young, but pretty blue-eyed blond looked up at him.

Daryl nodded, "Yes, I'm looking for William Dixon's room…was told he was brought in this morning." He said in as gentle tone as he could.

"Sure…" She said, and immediately looked down at the computer. "Oh…uh.." She looked back up at him, "…Only family is allowed." She told him.

He grunted, pulling out his wallet, and sliding out his badge, and license, and handed them over to her, "I'm Daryl Dixon, his son." He said gruffly. He was getting a little irritated.

"Oh…I'm sorry Mr. Dixon, uh…Sgt…Lt." She fumbled with his license and badge, and blushed slightly, and then handed them back to him.

"Just Daryl is fine…Old Man, is Mr. Dixon." He grumbled slightly, and he put his hands in his pockets, as he waited for her to find what room he was in.

"Oh-um…Daryl, uh…he's in surgery…" She looked up at him, and he frowned.

"Surgery?" He spluttered… "How's that possible…?" His tone, growing a bit rougher, and he saw her flush.

"Uh…sorry, I'll get a hold of his nurse." She said quietly.

Daryl nodded, and pulled out his cell phone, searching for any missed calls, both the Doctor and Tommy, had told him that he was unfit to have any choices.

He heard the girls throat clear, "He's…being prepped for surgery, I'm sorry…bugs, in the system…I-uh, a nurse should be with you shortly, you can have a seat." She was blushing, and her eyes were tearing.

Daryl had just turned around and looked down at her name tag. "Um…thank you Jennifer, and I'm sorry…I'm not angry at ya… my ahh, it's just the way I talk." He gave her an apologetic nod, and she flushed even more. "I reckon…no one needs to be yelled at cuz, the computer ain't working…"He winked, and then sauntered off to find a seat.

He'd just gotten through, one article in a sports magazine, about steroid use, when his name was called. He grunted, and set the magazine down, and walked over to where he heard his name.

"Are you Daryl Dixon?" She asked,

Daryl nodded, "Yes, Ma'am," He grunted out quietly.

"Follow me…"She told him, and turned on her heel, and he followed her into the back room after the pretty blond had buzzed them in. He was still feeling bad for her thinking he was angry at her. But he pushed it away, he still after all these years, still had a problem with his tone sometimes… And this sometime, he was just falling back into his troubled past, because of his goddam old man… Stupid excuse he decided, as he followed alongside, an older nurse, and looking at the sterile walls. This lady looked like she was a bulldozer, they probably stuck him with her to intimidate him or something. Now he was really feeling like a piece of shit for being so grumpy with the young lady at the desk.

"You can have a seat in here Lt. Dixon, the Doctor, should be with you shortly."

Daryl only nodded, and took a seat once again in another brightly lit room, that just smelled of disinfectant and bleach…the room looked sterile, the walls were white, but decorated to please the eye…it was doing nothing for him…if this was supposed to CALM family members, it was doing nothing for him… NOT that he needed calming… Again, he just didn't like DELAY'S and didn't like to sit around and wait for the STUPIDITY of his old man to further wreck his day.

He was finally called back about an HOUR later. This time, the receptionist brought him back to the Doctor's office. FORTUNATELY, the DOCTOR was there, in the room, so he didn't have to wait another HOUR to see HIM. By now Daryl was beyond agitated, he was a cop, for god's sake…What if he had to be back at the station. He growled impatiently to himself. And if it was SO important for him to COME to the hospital RIGHT AWAY… Why did he have to WAIT this long to talk to someone? Daryl swiftly counted to ten as he sat in the chair.

The Doctor went on and told him about his father's condition. That his liver was failing, and that he'd had a heart attack. Daryl had to school his features, to get beyond that information. Even if he could care less, what happened to him, he still kinda stumbled over what the DOCTOR had just said.

"When did he have a heart attack?" Daryl finally asked as the doctor seemed to go on and on…

"Within the last hour that we spoke Mr. Dixon." The Doctor said formally.

"Daryl, please…" He rolled his eyes.

"Alright, Daryl… well, it happened suddenly, a nurse was wheeling him back to the room."

Daryl frowned, "Could his heart have been involved in his accident?" He asked

"It's a sure possibility; there are tests that we can run to see if and when his heart started to be an issue."

"…The nurse out front, said he was being prepped for surgery?" Daryl raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, well yes… during the accident, he's been shown to have some internal bleeding… We believe it is why he isn't waking up." The Dr. Jenson told him.

"With all due respect, with a BAC of .18…ain't it just as well possible, he ain't waking from that?" Daryl narrowed his eyes.

"To be certain, we'd like to run some tests… Here are our findings." He told him,

Daryl took the paper; it was just a bunch of medical mumbo jumbo…"The hell this all mean, it's just a bunch of mumbo jumbo…" Daryl snarled, he was getting a little frustrated with what the Doctor was telling him. "He consent to this?" Daryl asked.

"Lt. Dixon, you're a cop… I can assume, that you are familiar with being picked up on a DUI arrest, there are certain tests that we are obligated to run…regardless of the patients consent." Dr. Jensen said quietly.

Daryl cleared his throat… "I'm aware of that… Dr. Jensen, I'm just not understanding what I'm seeing on this paper…" Daryl pushed the paper forward and pointed at the big medical mumbo-jumbo words…Hell did he think he was a fucking doctor.

The Doctor pulled the paper closer and read over what he was pointing at. "…Heart Attack…and liver enzymes are up…what our concern is…is that his liver is failing. He's consumed too much alcohol, and his system,…his heart, failed because of that, that the alcohol is poisoning his system, the area of concern is over his liver area," Dr. Jenson, paused and pointed at the right side of his abdomen… "There is swelling, and bruising across here on him…which could mean some things, he could have fell…it could be that he was injured when he was in the accident himself…we don't know unless we run these tests."

Daryl nodded and looked over the paper again… "So, that's what all this shit means, what does a CT scan do?"

The Doctor went on to explain to him what all that meant, and Daryl felt like his head would explode. Daryl signed all the paperwork that needed to be signed. He left his cell phone number with the nurse's station. Explaining to them that he was heading home, and if he was needed…call, he was about forty-five minutes away.

He rubbed his face wearily, as he pulled on his leather jacket, and made his way to the elevator. He was exhausted, and it was looking more and more like his week off was a bust.

AN2: Thank you for reading! will try for weekly updates, depends on how this flows for me... Let me know what you think. Next chapter we're continuing on a few days ahead, catching up with Merle, and checking in on what Carol is doing in her life. Thanks for reading and leave me a note :)