Ok guys, trying something new. This is going to be a series of one shots and two chapter stories. I will be bouncing all over the place as far as timeline is concerned. I will rate it M because there will be Smut in most. I will warn you ahead of time. I am going to include everyone, so if you have any requests on situations or character pairings, let me know. It will be heavy on Caryl and Meth, but I will do others. Let me know if you like it. I do not own the Walking Dead or its characters.

Red & Review

Enjoy!

There was a small hole in the top of their tent. She stared up at it, looking at the stars. She thought it was amazing how bright the stars were. Now that human kind had been without power plants, oil refineries, any invention man could come up with to cast a veil over the stars. They were bright tonight she thought as she lay under her husband.

Her husband of fifteen years lay on top of her grunting and writhing. She moaned and gasped at the appropriate intervals, not wanting another beating for being unresponsive. But really, she had no interest on what was going on in the tent. She had been through this many times even before the world went to hell. She would just stare up at the stars waiting for it to be over, listening to make sure Sophia's breathing was still even in the sleeping bag next to them.

This morning he had found her down by the quarry, washing her hair. He had punched her in the face, telling her that her vanity was keeping his breakfast waiting. She had been beaten in the tent, while the others went about their day. She emerged around noon, holding her ribs and wearing her hair down to cover her face. She flinched now as he wound her curly reddish brown hair wound around his hand and pulled. She gritted her teeth.

Lately her hair had been her most dangerous asset. She loved the way her curls tumbled over her shoulder, reddish brown with a little gray that Ed had engrained in her over the years. But, after tonight, that would cease. He used her vanity over her hair as an excuse for everything. If she brushed it, if she washed it, if she put it up, anything. She knew he would find other excuses to beat her, but she figured that she could help herself out at least a bit.

After he stilled on top of her, spent of his energy and his seed, he pushed her over to the corner of the tent, taking the sleeping bag and blankets for himself. Wrapping her arms around herself, she waited until she heard him snoring. She checked on Sophia, smoothing down her daughters hair and pressing a kiss to her temple before sliding on new clothes. She grabbed the laundry basket and tucked the scissors beneath the bundle, walking down to the quarry. She sat on the sand at the waters edge, scrubbing the bloodstains in her shirt, pants, even her bra.

She felt tears streak her face as she scrubbed at the stains with a small piece of soap. Frustrated she threw the shirt aside and grabbed the scissors out of the basket. Standing up, she walked to the edge of the dock and sat down, her toes skimming the waters. She turned the scissors over and over in her hands. She knew she wasn't vain, so why was she having such a hard time with this? This would be one less thing he could use against her, torture her with. She brought the scissors to her hair and began hacking, tears falling as her curls hit the dock, the water. She didn't even think as her hand moved the sharp tool across her hair, taking whatever it came in contact with.

He stood there, back against a tree, knife tucked into his belt. He had just left his tent to take a piss, when he saw her down here, slashing at her head. Her curls were falling in pools on the dock. He stood there for a minute, debating what to do. He knew what her husband did to her, everyone knew. He had always been taught not to interfere in family shit. Hell, everyone in this damn camp seemed to learn the same thing. None of them had lifted a finger to help this woman or her girl.

He just stood there staring at her. She was a pretty woman, but the spark had been long beat out of her by her asshole of a husband. He knew the reason she stayed. Same reason his mama had. Thought it would get better, thought the kids deserved a dad.

He snorted to himself. His asshole of a father was never a dad. He spent his time on the couch, watchin tv barking out orders for another beer. After his ma died, it became worse. Fuck, every day you just waited for a beating. Didn't matter how much you tried to stay out of his way, fucker was relentless.

He looked at the woman one last time, her hands trembling as she slowly cut at her hair. He had seen his brother looking at her, the girl. Always keeping his distance though. Maybe he could give him a little push. Fuck knows the boy deserved some happiness in life.

Daryl sat in the tent, sharpening his arrows. He saw Merles shadow approach the tent. Merle opened the zipper and crouched down, laying on his bedroll.

"The fuck you been?"

"Just sightseein little brother, don't get yer panties in a wad."

"Fuck, I thought ya said we was doin this tonight. Raid the camp, get the fuck outta here?"

Merle turned looking at his brother. He knew Daryl had grown attached to some of the people, especially the woman and her kid. Even though he never talked to them or approached them, Merle always saw him lurking in the shadows just beyond their line of sight. Stealthy mother fucker.

"That really what ya want ta do bro?"

Daryl looked at Merle, not knowing how to answer him.

"Tell tha truth now. That what ya want?"

"No. Aint what I want. These people need us. They got women, kids. Fuckhead Shane aint been off his ass or off Loris since we fuckin got here. We leave, these people are fuckin dead Merle."

Merle almost laughed at the conviction in his brother's voice, but he didn't. He knew Daryl was right.

"Fine. Ya want ta stay, we can stay. But since we got a vested interest in these people now. Got a situation ya need ta handle. Down at the dock. I won't wait up."

Daryl snorted. "What the hell ya do? Tie a walker to the dock or something?"

"Just go on now bro. I need my beauty rest."

Daryl shook his head ad he left the tent, making his way down to the quarry.

He stood there, just a few feet behind her. Fuckin woman needed to get her head on straight. If he was walker she would have been dead by now. He watched her hands shake as she ran the scissors over her heir, holding the curls in her hand before dropping them into the water below.

She felt him behind her. She knew his scent. He was always careful to stay away from her and Sophia, but hell she did his laundry. She knew the scent of the hunter when she smelled it. He was a strange man; a boy really. She silently wondered how old he really was. She had seen him around camp with his brother, they hunted for the group. Carol knew they were both rough around the edges, but who was she to judge.

He sat behind her and she felt his legs hit her back as he took the scissors from her hand. She dropped her hand to her lap, just waiting.

She felt his hand grab onto her hair.

"Ya know ya shoulda asked someone ta do this shit. Andrea maybe. See what ya did to yerself?"

Her lips trembled. Here she was with a strange man, letting him cut her hair. She hadn't let another man within ten feet of her since she married Ed. Now he was asking if she cared what she looked like.

"I don't care what I look like. I just need it gone."

She heard a grunt behind her as he continued cutting. He stopped and she heard the scissors hit the dock. Now that it was done, she was ashamed at herself for actually wanting to see what it looked like. She got on her hands and knees as she heard him stand up behind her. She looked down in the clear water, moonlight shining on it. She could just make out her reflection in the water. As she ran her hands through her now short, almost completely gray hair, she let a few tears fall. That was all she would give it. It was only hair.

He stood behind her watching her lean over looking at her reflection in the water. Her ass was up in the air and he couldn't help but imagine what it would feel like when he was on his knees behind her. Finally behind her. He knew it would happen, eventually. He had basically fuckin stalked this woman since he came to camp. He would have killed hat son of a bitch husband by now if it wasn't for Merles voice in his head. "Ya don't go messin in other people's problems bro. We got enough of our own. Mind yer own fuckin business."

But Merle had sent him down here. Maybe Merle was softening a bit. Daryl chuckled at the thought.

She stood up abruptly when she heard him chuckle. The sound had made heat pool in her lower body. This could not be happening. She wouldn't let it. As long as she toed the line with Ed, Sophia was safe. And that was all that mattered.

She stood up, turning towards him. He breath caught before she could stop it. He stood there, long shaggy hair hanging over his eyes, bow on his back, arms hard and flexing, moonlight behind his back. He looked like a Viking God. She composed herself and walked towards him.

"Thank you."

He looked at her, her blue eyes boring into his soul. "No problem. Next time ask for help first huh? Mighta cut yerself."

She nodded moved to walk past him, when she felt his arm around her waist, bringing her to a halt.

She closed her eyes. "Please don't," she whispered.

He moved to pull her back flush against his chest. His arms snaked around her waist, pulling her closer to him, impossibly close.

He couldn't believe he was doing this. Hell he didn't touch anybody, ever. There was something about this woman. He didn't feel sorry for her, he wanted her, needed her. He had barely said thirty fuckin words to her since they met, but he couldn't help himself. He pulled her closer to him, feeling his cock dig into her back. She was so tiny, so fragile. He leaned forward and nuzzled her ear with his nose.

"Tell me to kill him. Please."

She felt his breath, hot on her ear, the pleading in her voice. She groaned, clenching her thighs tighter together.

He heard her groan and he couldn't help it, he latched his lips onto her neck, biting and kissing as he gripped her hips. He abruptly and roughly turned her around, his mouth possessing hers their tongues warring with each other for dominance. Carols brain screamed. She pulled away from him, turning, looking around the woods to see if Ed was somewhere, catching them. This had to be a trick. She knew what she looked like, what she was. There was no way a man like him would want her. She went to leave, walking forward towards the camp.

"No!" He gripped her arm, bringing him back into him. The loss of contact had actually made his stomach drop. He couldn't lose it now that he had felt her against him.

He gripped the back of her neck gently, whispering in her ear.

"Please. No one would blame ya. He's a sick son of a bitch. Ya need to get away from him."

She looked up into his eyes and she immediately trusted him. This was no ruse. She felt her heart swell. The next moment it shattered as she heard her little girls scream echo off of the quarry walls.

Merle lay on his sleeping running the tip of his knife under his fingernails, dislodging whatever dirt he had picked up hunting. It had been awhile since he sent Daryl down there. He chuckled to himself. Hell he was surprised the woman hadn't screamed her head off when she saw him lurkin there. His brother wasn't one for social graces.

He suddenly stopped, blade beneath his thumbnail. He listened in the darkness. He heard something. He knew he did. He got up from his sleeping bag and went outside the tent. He stood, hands on his hips, listening. He knew he hard something. Maybe a fucking cat? He moved to start a fire when he heard it again.

His blood ran cold and he stood straight as an arrow. Whimpering. He walked toward the small, soft noise, buckknife in his hand. Then he heard it and in an instant his body felt like a live wire.

"No daddy, please."

Fuck no. He may be a fucking junkie bastard but he wasn't putting up with this shit. He stalked toward the tent where Carol, fat bastard and the girl stayed. He stood outside the tent for a second, just in case he didn't hear it right. He saw her little fingers under the tent zipper, trying to get out.

"Shut the fuck up you little bitch. Yer mamma aint here to protect ya."

Merle let out a growl as he reached down and grabbed he girls little hand, pulling her the entire way out of the tent by one hand. She screamed, not sure what was happening. Merle pushed her back, behind him.

Ed was out of the tent like a flash.

The fuck you think you're doing redneck. Don't you fucking put your filthy hands on my girl!"

Merle looked at the girl behind him. She was shaking and the zipper on her blue jeans was down.

"Ya alright girl?"

She nodded at him. He pointed to her zipper with the knife. "Yer pa do that to ya?'

She looked down at the ground, refusing to answer.

Ed snorted. "Fuck you redneck. This is my goddamn family, which means they belong to me. They do what I say. Sophia, get your stupid ass back in the tent."

Sophia stayed where she was, not moving a muscle. Ed stepped towards her

"You hear what I said you stupid cunt? Get the fuck back in there or Ill really give you something to be afraid of."

Merle looked at the girl, pointing his knife at Ed.

"Listen here missy. This may be your only chance of getting him outta yer and yer moms lives. He hurt ya? He make ya do stuff ya didn't want to?'"

She looked up at him, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. She looked at her father. The man who had been in every nightmare she had ever had. The man who beat her mother when she placed herself between Ed and his daughter. She looked up at the craggy, weather beaten face of her savior. She knew this could be over in a few seconds. So she did it. She said it. Finally.

"He took down his pants and he tried to make me-"

Merle cut her off by placing one finger beneath her chin, raising her eyes to meet his.

"No need to say more darlin. That's all I need."

He pushed her backwards as he lunged for Ed, who held his own knife now. Ed wasn't fast enough. Merle knew he wouldn't be. He brought up his knee, planting it between Ed's legs. The fat man fell to the ground, holding his nuts as Merle paced around him like an animal stalking its prey.

Andrea came running up behind Sophia, stopping at the sight of Ed on the ground. Merle looked at her, his knife pointing at Eds opened zipper. Andrea nodded and pulled Sophia away.

Merle knelt down beside Ed as Carol and Daryl emerged from the trees. Carol registered that Ed was on the ground and her eyes darted around furtively for Sophia.

"Sophia?"

Merle grunted from beside Ed. "Andrea took her. Seems old Ed here wanted to get a little too familiar with his little girl."

Daryl heard Carol sob as she fell to her knees vomiting into a bush.

Daryl moved toward Ed, bringing his bow off of his back. He was stopped by her small hand on his chest, the other hand wiping at her mouth. She shook her head at him.

"No. I need to do it."

Merle looked to his brother who nodded. Merle flipped his knife in his palm and handed it to the small woman who had murder in her eyes. Both brothers stood there as she knelt down by her husband, her mouth near his ear.

"I warned you you son of a bitch. You could knock me around all you want, but you were to stay away from Sophia!"

She plunged the knife into his thigh. He screamed, a high pitched girlish scream. Carol almost waned to laugh. She grabbed a fistful of his hair, yanking his head up to face her. She spoke in a whisper.

"You see that man over there? The one with the bow? He wants me Ed. I felt him, hard and ready pushed against me at the dock. He wants me and I want him."

She smiled at her husband, hatred dripping from the corners of her mouth. She leaned down and placed a kiss on his lips holding it as she drove the blade into his skull.

As Carol and Sophia bedded down for the night, after Ed's body had been disposed of, she looked at her daughter.

"Sophia, I'm so sorry I didn't protect you baby."

"Mom, you tried the best you could. I swear, he never touched me before tonight."

Carol closed her eyes and gathered her daughter close to her. They were interrupted by a duffel bag and bedroll being thrust into the tent, Daryl Dixon following.

They both stared at him as he made himself at home, rolling out his bedroll, punching a pile of clothes into a makeshift pillow.

He sat, facing them.

"What?"

Sophia hid a smile behind her hand. She laid down in her bag, winking at her mother. "Good night Mr. Dixon."

"Night kid. Call me Daryl."

Carol just sat there, unsure of what to do. "You don't have to do this you know."

"Aint no have to about it. I want to."

He leaned over and gave her a quick kiss on the lips. "Go on, go to sleep. I aint going nowhere."