And the tradition carries on. Mark one complete and then post a new one, right? This has a slight Levee feel for those of you that have read that story. I've recycled a few OC's and brought them into this world. I hope you all enjoy it. I have 50 chapters written and about ten more to go before it's complete so regular updates can be expected unless my computer explodes. It sounds a little like a Harley so that is a possibility.

Anyway, here we go again. =) Hope you enjoy this story as much as I enjoyed writing it and, as always, thank you so much for giving it a shot!

Chapter One

Daryl's eyes snapped open when he heard the front door slam shut. He groaned and rolled over, grabbing his pillow and pulling it over his head. Sure enough, less than a minute later he heard the television turn on and then his cabinet doors slam. Rolling back over he sat up and glared at the bedroom door, tossing the pillow off the side of the bed.

Fucking Saturdays.

He swung his legs around until his feet were planted on the floor and then he rubbed at his eyes with the heels of his hands. A quick glance at the alarm clock had him grimacing. It wasn't even eight in the morning yet. He grabbed a cigarette off the nightstand and lit it. He should have been able to sleep in. Every Friday night he went to bed thinking that he was going to get to stay there as long as he wanted and every damn Saturday morning he woke up to the same bullshit.

He grabbed the pants he'd been wearing the night before and put them on before he padded out of his room and down the hall. He found exactly what he knew he would find.

"Morning, dick face," his niece grinned. She was sitting on the floor in front of the couch with a bowl of cereal balanced on her knee and the remote in her hand.

He flipped her off on his way by. He found his younger cousin, Damon, leaning against the counter, his arms crossed over his chest and a sour look on his face. Daryl reached around him and hit start on the coffee maker. "The hell is wrong with you?" He asked around a yawn.

"Nothin'," Damon grumbled.

Daryl shook his head and sat down, running a hand through his hair. "You two are loud as fuck, you know that?"

Damon shook his head. "Don't blame me. I've been up for an hour. She's the one that comes over bein' all loud as fuck. And she ate all my goddamn cereal. She climbed her short ass right up on the counter and found my hiding spot."

Daryl looked up at the boy. He didn't look like a sixteen year old at the moment. He looked like an overgrown five year old. "Your bigger than her. Just tell her she can't have your damn cereal. How the fuck old are you anyway? Jesus."

Damon snorted. "I did tell her she couldn't have any. She's like a fucking demon. I can't stop her when she wants to do something."

Daryl snorted and shook his head. It was always something with these two. "I'll get you some more tonight. I guess next time you should hide it under your bed or somethin'."

Damon shook his head in disgust. "She's lucky she's kin. I'd throw her out on her ass." He grabbed the pot and poured two cups, handing Daryl one of them. "There's suppose to be a party out on Mill road tonight." He was hesitant and Daryl understood why.

Six years ago Damon's parents had been killed in a motorcycle accident. According to the paperwork, to everyone's surprise, Daryl was the one that was suppose to take care of their son. Between both life insurance policies, he was left with plenty enough to take care of the boy, even though he had tried to fight it.

He hadn't been cut out to try to play dad to some boy. But in the end, he had done what his aunt and uncle had hoped he would. He moved into the house, he made sure the bills were paid and he did what he could to try to guide the boy. Needless to say, he was winging it. But Damon was a good kid for the most part. He got into fights every now and then and sometimes he stayed out too late and more than once he'd come home drunk, but considering what he could have turned into after his parent's death, he considered himself pretty damn lucky. Damon was a lot easier to deal with than Piper. He had it easier than Merle did.

"Did you hear me?"

Daryl look up and then nodded. "Yeah, I heard you."

"So, me and Piper were gonna go," Damon hedged, sitting in the chair across from him.

Daryl shrugged. "Keep your damn eye on her."

Damon rolled his eyes at that and then took a drink. "You don't have to say that to me every time. I always keep an eye on her."

"Keep an eye on who?" Piper asked as she stepped into the kitchen and took her bowl to the sink.

"You," they said in unison.

She snorted. "I can take care of my damn self. I appreciate the concern though." She grinned.

"Does Merle know you're going?" Daryl asked, hoping that these two didn't expect him to keep their whereabouts a secret. They had done that shit to him before and he ended up getting an ear full from his old man just as bad as they got from Merle.

"He knows," Piper said, her face nothing but innocence.

He glared.

"I shit you not. Cross my heart. You can call him," she said, grimacing.

Daryl shrugged. "Maybe I will."

~H~

Carol shoved the letters under her mat and hurried out of her cell. She was late and she didn't have time to read either one of them. It would give her something else to look forward to anyway. There wasn't enough to look forward to in this place.

"You're late."

She looked up into the stoic face of the woman that ran the kitchen. She was tall with broad unfortunate features and a rough voice that seemed harsh even when she was in the best of moods. "Sorry, Gerta," she said quickly, donning an apron and going straight to her prep station.

Gerta gave her a hard look and then stormed off. Carol breathed out a sigh of relief. Some days the woman could be a huge pain in the ass, going on and on about the insubordination of the inmates that worked under her.

"She's just upset that her most loyal girl is leaving soon."

Carol looked over at another woman that was working at her counter, pealing a heaping pile of potatoes. Eliza Jones had only been there for a year but already she had made a name for herself. She wasn't one to be messed with. It was odd too because she wasn't big or tough looking. She was about Carol's size and just a few years younger than her. She had an easy smile and curly dark hair that she kept in a ponytail.

She had always been nice to Carol but that didn't mean the woman didn't know how to fight. Hell, even Carol knew how to fight after six years in this place. Carol had seen Eliza in action during lunch one day. Two other women approached her just a few days after she arrived and though no one could hear what was said, it was obvious the two thought they found some fresh meat to work over. That wasn't how it worked out though. The dark haired newbie had taken them both out.

"That's a sweet thought, Jones, but I think it's more her being pissed off that I'm late again," Carol said with a grin.

"Yeah, well, sometimes I like to create these fantasies in my head where certain people here aren't screaming tyrants for no reason."

"Less talking, more peeling, girls! Come on!" Gerta yelled, glaring at them over her shoulder.

Carol and Eliza chuckled quietly and finished up their work in comfortable silence. The work wasn't taxing but it kept their minds off of where they were for just a little while. That was nice. When it was over they took their own plates to the back of the kitchen and sat on turned over milk crates to eat their lunch. It was another perk to kitchen duty.

"Your daughter coming today?" Eliza asked after a few long minutes of more silence.

Carol nodded, picking at her food. "Yeah. I'm so ready to get the hell out of here and start our lives over."

"How is she doing? Any better?"

Carol shrugged, her appetite suddenly gone. "I got a letter from her and Andrea today but I haven't had a chance to read either one of them. She looked so different the last time she was here. She didn't talk much."

"Things will be better when you're finally out. Six years is a long time and even teenagers that haven't been through what your daughter has, have a tough time."

Carol smiled, thankful for the pep talk even though it didn't make her feel any better. There was nothing worse than knowing that your child was going through something and not being able to be there for her. It was the worst thing about being in this place.

She still had a little time before her scheduled visit so she hurried back to the cell and reached in for the letters. She sat there for a long time without opening either. Her hands were shaking and she took a deep breath before carefully opening the one from Sophia.

Mom,

I wasn't there for the last few visits because of my community service. Now that that's over Andrea is making me come on Saturday. I'll see you then.

So I hear that you're down to less than two weeks if everything goes as planned. It will be weird having you around. Maybe we can get some flop of an apartment. I'll live anywhere if it means I'll get to get the hell away from Andrea and her constant bullshit.

Well, I guess I need to get to bed. See you soon.

Sophia.

Carol stared at the letter, tears blurring the words on the page. It was obvious that this was Andrea's doing. She had made the girl write the letter. It was cold. There was nothing of her daughter there in the letter. This was someone else. Someone she didn't even know.

The other letter didn't make her feel any better but at least it prepared her a little for what to expect with this visit.

Carol,

I am so happy that this is almost over. The thought of seeing you in something other than orange scrubs is making me more excited than it should. I can't wait to visit on Saturday. Sophia is coming with me.

I hate this but I have to say it. She's gotten to the point where I just don't know what to do with her. I heard that raising a teenager is hard but, my God, the changes in her over the last year have been extreme. Nothing I say is right. Nothing I try to do is right. I don't say much because I know how hard it is for you. I know how badly you want to be a mother to her. And maybe that's what she needs. I just want you to remember that she's changed a lot in just the few months that you've seen her.

I'm not trying to upset you so I'm going to change the subject. In less than two weeks we're going to be there to pick you up and then we're going to find you a job and get you started on this new life. You've earned it. You paid your dues ten fold and it's time for your life to be on the mend.

I hope you get this letter before our visit and I hope you are still holding strong. Remember, this will pass. If you have managed to get through the last six years then you can get through the next few weeks.

Love,

Andrea.

Carol folded the letters and put them under the mat before glancing at herself in the mirror. Her eyes were a little red but she would just have to deal with it. It was time to go see her daughter and her best friend.

She knew that what she did all those years ago was the right thing to do. If she hadn't done it then Ed would have hurt Sophia and she couldn't let that happen. He had been able to do whatever the hell he wanted to Carol but not her daughter. She was glad he was gone and she had no regrets for being the one to kill him. But she had lost so much that night.

She took a deep breath, readying herself for this last visit before she was able to walk out of these doors for good.