Author's Note: There is some language that could offend and violent situations that aren't suitable for all. You've been warned.

Daryl's bike kicked up gravel as he closed in on the crossroads. Merle was waiting for him, sitting on the hood of a beat up, two-tone blue truck. Parts of it so rusted that it no longer held its color. He was surrounded by a cloud of smoke as Daryl came to a stop, face pensive and jaw tight. He quickly surveyed the area, looking for any traffic that might be able to ID them later when they were on the run. If they worked fast and smart, it wouldn't come to that though. His vest fluttered in the wind as he walked towards his brother, dust from the gravel road depositing on his boots.

"We still on for this shit?" Daryl asked as his brother slid down off of the hood and finished the distance between them.

The only response he received was a slight nod. Merle packed another cigarette and lit it up. Daryl looked at the clear blue sky. They were going to have to work fast if they wanted to get this shit done and get out before the place was swarmed over by the cops. He looked back over at the truck and smirked.

"Y'ain't gonna be outrunnin' shit in that, better hope the cops are ridin' bicycles and pogo sticks."

"Don't make me learn you some manners boy, this here is a classic. Ain't seen nothin' drop panties so fast as this lovely lady here." Merle patted his truck adoringly.

"Shit Merle not like any of 'em have standards. They'd drop 'em for a six pack and a smoke."

"Nah, baby brother, them's some fine outstandin' ladies. 'Sides, it ain't bout the speed of the ride, it's all bout the exit strategy. Cops t'ain't gonna be lookin at ole Marla here and thinkin..." The rest of Merle's retort was cut short by his phone. He slid his hand into his pocket and brought the phone to his ear.

Merle's face tensed as the voice on the other end provided him with details for the next few hours, he turned on the speakerphone so he wouldn't have to repeat them to his brother. Afterwards, he hung up the phone and turned his gaze on him. A shadow crossed his face. If Daryl didn't know any better, he would have said it was remorse. Without a word, Merle turned his back on him and climbed into the truck. Daryl followed suit and returned to his bike. It would be full dark before they made it out. The sound of the cicadas burst periodically through the silence of the sweltering afternoon. He paused to wipe the sweat off of his face with a dirty red rag.

When Merle pulled onto the road, Daryl followed close behind. Tonight would either make them or break them. He could hear the music blaring from Merle's truck. It was the only true evidence that his brother felt apprehensive about the events that would soon unfold.

It was later in the afternoon when they pulled up to the bank. Most of the cars had cleared out of the parking lot. The remaining cars, he assumed, belonged to the employees and a few stray customers. Among them sat an older model gold Camry. He could see a dark headed girl lounging in the driver's seat. Her polished toes dangled out of the window and she was belting out Taylor Swift at the top of her lungs. Daryl pulled a face, thinking that he would throw in the towel right then just to make the singing stop.

He could hear Merle's boys closing in around the place and quickened his pace. Once the job was done, they'd scatter and meet in a small cabin across state lines. In no way did he want to go through with this, but a townie cop had his brother over a barrel on bullshit drug charges. If this went down without a hitch, his brother would be free and clear. Except he really wouldn't. Daryl knew that in his brother's desperation to get square with the lawman, he had failed to really think this through. Merle was going to end up the patsy if something went sideways. It was Daryl's responsibility to keep that from happening. Where his brother was reckless, he was calculating. Laughter brought him out of his momentary abstraction.

His eyes tracked two girls exiting the building, one pausing to pull her keys out of her purse. Daryl looked from the laughing girls over to his brother. Merle had already moved into position, parking his truck to block the path into the bank. Although he was a good enough distance away not to spook them, Merle would be making his move soon and then there was no turning back. Daryl finished hiding his bike so that Merle's contact in the bank could pick it up when the cops cleared off, and stalked quickly towards his position. It was his job to keep everyone in the bank and within sight, but he hadn't expected the girls to loiter in front of the door. It made him nervous but Merle had been entirely unfazed by the small addition to their party. Daryl sized the two of them up, calculating, trying to decide which one would be the most trouble. He felt a wave of guilt. He really was a piece of shit, just like his daddy.

The devil in a sunday hat. That was Merle all over. He could charm a cripple straight out of their chair and they would thank him all the while. True as this was, Daryl could see in the way that the girls had tensed up that they didn't entirely trust Merle as he approached them at the bank door, smiling, laughing and boisterous. Before they could act, Daryl materialized from out of the shadows beside the building.

Quickly he grabbed the girl closest to him and hauled her back inside. She fought him back, kicking and biting and he fought the urge to flinch away and run from the blows. He had to help out Merle. He couldn't lose him. Daryl gently subdued her, still trying to avoid the blows she sent into his torso and arms. His stomach rolled, revolted by what he was doing. Her arms were so tiny and thin. The pale skin was battered and red from struggling against his viselike grip. He could see his fingerprints littering her perfect porcelain skin. He was just about to back out and let the girl free when his brother jumped through the door, holding the other girl in his arms and his gun pointed towards the on duty security guard.

"This don't have ta go bad, just give us what you know we're here for and nobody'll get hurt." Merle looked around at the people still in the building, releasing his girl into the small crowd. All of them openly gawked at him. He lifted his gun to the ceiling and dramatically fired a round.

"Come on people, you's actin' like you just saw a spook. Get on the ground and make this easy on me." Merle smiled his most charming smile.

Daryl still had a loose hold on the little blond girl with her keys hanging limply at her side. She had stop hitting him after Merle discharged his weapon, goosebumps graced her arms and Daryl could feel them under his rough fingertips. He felt her body further tense when Merle's guys entered the building. They flanked them, guns raised and pointed threateningly at the tellers. Merle angled his body between them and the guns. In tandem, two men broke away from the group and swept through the crowd gathering phones, forcing people onto the floor as they went. Behind him, a man locked down the door and secured it with a zip tie.

"Come on now, we got a deadline, get goin'" Merle tossed a handful of empty pillowcases to each teller with a nod and a wink.

Daryl watched as the men worked together. Even he was surprised that it had gone down with so little incident. He looked over just in time to see the bank manager dip his hand behind a wooden desk. When he didn't withdraw it, Daryl motioned to Merle and waved in the man's direction.

"Think you missed a phone."

Len walked over to the bank manager and pulled the phone out of his hand. "Fuck, he called 911, been connected for about thirty seconds."

"Securin' the phones is an absolute bank robbin' must, right along with wearin' a mask and cripplin' the security system." Joe said and stepped towards Merle with his gun raised.

The shot startled Daryl. His grip tightened around the girl and he could feel her tense against him. Her tiny hand fisted the leg of his jeans. He was too preoccupied watching the bank manager's skull blow across the floor. Len stood over his body, smile on his face. He and Joe locked eyes, something unsaid passed between them. Shit had just gone sideways. Daryl could tell that Merle had officially lost his grip on the situation.

"Now listen here folks, we'll be making our exit now. We only need one hostage. That one'll do." He gestured towards the girl in Daryl's arms. "Don't be gettin' any ideas when we turn our backs to leave or this will go bloody," Joe looked at the bank manager's body bleeding out on the floor and chuckled, "well I guess it's a bit late for that hugh."

He lifted his gun towards the crowd, took aim and fired. The bullet ripped through the wall, barely missing one of the tellers. With a shit eating grin, he cut the zip tie with a pocket knife and exited the bank into the blearing light of day. Daryl filed out behind Len, still holding the girl. Her hair had fallen loose and was tickling his skin as he held her close. His intention was to let her go in the parking lot, but before he could release her, Joe was pulling her out of his arms and shuffling her into Merle's ride. Daryl jumped into the bed of the truck, looking back when he heard a screech and cussing. The dark headed girl from the car was now clawing at Merle. She kept screaming a name over and over. Beth. She was screaming for Beth. One of Joe's boys crept up behind her and bashed her in the skull. As she fell to the ground, Daryl turned his head. Merle made it into the truck and slammed his foot down on the accelerator. He was just beginning to hear the wail of a siren.

The dark haired girl chased after them on foot, before falling to her knees on the road. He took in his brother's red eyes and ripped up face through his reflection in the side mirror. She must have put up a pretty good fight. He felt instant respect. Deep down, he wished that Beth had gotten loose too. Luckily, this whole ordeal was only supposed to last a few hours. They would take the girl out to an isolated cabin, wait until they got a call and then they would turn her out at a busy street, no worse for wear. Daryl knew that was shit. She would never be the same after this. He felt his stomach roll, bile fighting its way into his throat. He choked back the urge to be sick and looked forward at the busted cab on his brother's truck. Joe had all the power now, no denying that, but what it meant for Merle he couldn't yet say. In his gut he knew that when they got to the cabin, all hell was going to break loose.

By the time they arrived, it was full dark. The girl had given up on struggling. Joe had managed to zip tie her arms and legs together before hopping onto his bike and darting out of the parking lot. Whether she was unconscious or just biding her time, He couldn't tell. The truck came to a halt just outside of the cabin door and Daryl rushed to grab the girl before any of the other men could get there. They had all scattered in different directions, but had been instructed to meet back here. He did not have much confidence that they would keep their hands to themselves when they arrived and he didn't want rape added to the many fuck ups of the day. When he opened the door, Beth swung her legs out and kicked him hard in the abdomen. He doubled over, finally losing the contents of his stomach. Merle caught her by the arms and held her in place while Daryl caught his breath. Finally, he was able to grab her and throw her over his shoulder. He took her quickly and quietly into the bathroom, depositing her on the toilet seat. When he pulled out his knife, she flinched away from him. Even as he was cutting her bindings, she remained tense.

Daryl had known pain. All of his life he had known pain. His father's fists, his mother's neglect, Merle's flippant carelessness and constant abandonment. But the look in that girl's eyes, that hurt he would never forget. Her big doe eyes pierced through him, probing him, and he had never felt so low and filthy as he did in that very moment. She silently told him what he already knew, that he was a no good fuck-up piece of shit. What they had done was wrong and the judge and jury sat glaring at him in the form a petite blond that couldn't stand up against a sturdy breeze.

"Why are you doin' this?" She turned her eyes on him. The full power of her silent accusation still piercing him.

"S'complicated." He couldn't find it in himself to lift his eyes to her.

"You look at me. I'm here because of you and you're gonna look at me." At this, Daryl followed her command. He turned towards her. Fire and vengeance replaced the fear he had seen early. Her eyes looked alert and intelligent. He shuddered to think what this tiny little girl was capable of doing.

But at the same time, he couldn't help but look at her and think that she resembled one of those dolls that his mother collected. They had all been so beautiful, skin white as cream, unmarred by lashings and absolutely perfect. Their hair was delicate and fine and he could stare at them forever. Whenever his father would catch him at it, he'd beat him and call him faggot but he couldn't stop. There was something about them that he loved deeply. In an alcohol fueled rage, his father had taken an old wooden bat to them just after his mother had burned herself up. He even pitched a few to Daryl, making him help destroy something that he had loved, before he had turned the bat back on Daryl and fractured his skull. After that, he had crawled into the woods and cried. Merle would have kicked his ass if he'd found out, but he wasn't there. Never was really.

Daryl heard engines outside. He nervously turned his back on the girl and went towards the door. Before he could turn the knob, Merle burst inside. He had been running like a bat out of hell.

"You gotta get. There already arguin' 'bout whether to keep her for ransom or kill 'er." Merle pushed his brother roughly towards the window, but Daryl stopped him.

"Can't leave you here." His brother shook his head and kept pushing him.

"Stop bein' a pussy and get yer ass out. You need me to give ya a boost there darylina? Pull up that skirt and kick off your heels son, you got ta go."

"Like hell I will, that ain't me. It ain't us." He tried to sidestep Merle, but his brother roughly grabbed his forearm. He pulled him just outside the bathroom door and looked him square in the eyes.

"T'ain't no wonder the old man hit ya. Yer as soft as a damn bitch. You need to take pause for the cause brother, cuz you and me ain't gonna make it outta here alive. Yer gonna slow me down, get in the way, just like when we was kids. Shit, I've taken more beatings than I can count cuz you's in the way and ya still are. Now get."

Daryl's heart seized in his chest and he could feel tears burning his eyes, he turned away from his brother and opened the bathroom door. "To hell with you. You ain't never had my back, not then and not now." He walked inside and closed the door behind him.

He wasn't sure what surprised him the most, whether it was the fact that she had skipped out through the window or left him a message with her lip gloss. 'Fuck you asshole' was scrawled across the broken bathroom mirror. He didn't have more time to appreciate her flowery writing before he too was following her path through the window and into the woods. It was easy to track her in the glowing light of the full moon. Although she was small, she had a heavy tread. Her footfalls were irregular, caused by the burst of adrenaline that was carrying her quickly in the wrong direction. Not being able to stomach the idea of her getting lost and dying of exposure, he picked up his pace.

When he finally sighted her, he wasn't sure how to approach her. He was the asshole who had taken her in the first place. As soon as she laid eyes on him, she'd be gone in a second. He stalked around to cut her off and decided to treat it like pulling off a bandaid. He would just jump out and take the beating. Placing his hands non-threateningly in front of him, he stepped out of the tree line. Of all the scenarios that had run through his mind, the one he got had never even crossed it. As soon as she saw who it was, she ran up and threw her body against his, something resembling a hug.

"The fuck, is this stockholm syndrome or somethin'?"

"I ran into one of them other guys. He tried to grab me and I stabbed him with a file I hid in my boot. I thought he'd found me." She burst into shaky sobs and instinctively Daryl backed away. It wasn't a hug after all, apparently he had just become her human shield. He sincerely hoped it was that fuck Len she had stabbed. There never was a piece of shit that deserved it more.

"As you've probably figured out by now, we ain't exactly ahead of the situation anymore. This ain't just a hostage situation now, it's a survival one. I don't know how well they can track us, but you walk around like a fuckin' elephant so my guess is we ain't safe here."

As if to illustrate Daryl's point, a bullet whizzed by his head, cracking bark in the tree behind him. He looked across at the girls face. He could see it written all over her, the damn bullet must have gotten him. He put his hand to his head and brought it back covered in blood. She pulled him down right as the next bullet penetrated the same tree. He quickly looked around and assessed the situation. If they didn't get moving, they were fucked. He grabbed her arm and pulled her off the ground. Acting before another bullet could find its mark, Daryl darted off further into the trees with the girl in tow.

She was cumbersome and moved slow, he constantly had to readjust their path. At this point, he was just trying to throw them off the trail, but the way she walked and breathed there was a good chance they would be caught. His head wound was still bleeding and now had started hurting. He was growing more irritable with each step and the blood loss was making him feel weak.

"Can ya just fuckin' stop. Yer breathin' like a bulldog with a goddamn head cold." He looked at her pointedly before turning around to survey the area. He hadn't managed to turn completely around before he caught sight of them. Two at least, but probably more somewhere in the trees, waiting for them to run.