Author's Note: Hello everyone, I've been wavering between writing a story like this for awhile and I have a feeling it will be somewhere between a collection of drabbles and a short collection of chapters about this particular idea. Originally, I was going to blend the TVverse and the Comicverse but I remembered reading somewhere that the TVverse sort of had a vibe to it about "What would have happened if Shane HADN'T died in the forest when he did? It's sort of what became of him living." So um, yes. I'm rusty at writing fanfiction but I hope I did decently.

Chapter 1: Soft

Staying in one place out in the open didn't rub him the right way, strictly speaking very little rubbed him the right way anyway so it wasn't like he was trying to be as obvious as humanly possible about where they could be and what they could be doing right now other than sitting around with their thumbs up their asses. Having only recently been able to drag himself out of that blasted too-soft house to sit outdoors—the only place he ever truly felt at peace—he was already running through a list of what he would be doing as soon as he was able to walk without feeling the need to lay right back down again. Daryl Dixon was not a soft man, furthest thing from it if he had anything to say about it. Yet here he was camped out on the edge of some pond surrounded by green, green, and more green. Framed all nice and pretty like by blue and fluffy white far over his head.

Scratching at his short hair the outdoorsman stood to his feet slowly, gritting his teeth against the burning pressure in his side and the itch at his forehead that vaguely burned. He had to refrain from scratching at it with blunt nails still stained with dirt and blood. No matter how hard he scrubbed they were never clean, smalls scrapes covered the tanned flesh of his hands not to mention the rest of his body as he made his way towards his current camp ground. He didn't understand how everyone else seemed to be at peace, where he was buzzing with the energy and need to be back out there in the trees searching for that little girl. Able to clearly remember the damp fabric under his calloused fingers as he lifted it from the overturned tree choke point in the merrily bubbling stream. The faded yellow yarn of the hair stained brown with thick streaks of mud well his thumb brushed hurriedly at the rosy red cheeks—he'd seen Sophia care for the little bundle of cloth limbs with such care and if he didn't find her before he got back he would make sure the damn thing was spotless for when he did. He could even imagine the smile on her soft features, baby blues staring up at him with nervous gratitude and warmth.

Daryl could count on one hand how many kids he'd been around younger than him in his entire thirty some-odd years of life. Sometimes he remembered the children of the women Merle brought home. 'Keep them busy will ya' baby brother? Yer good at that soft shit ain't ya afterall?' his lip twitched at the vague memory of Merle's eyes sparkling with mirth as the woman in his arms nipped at the exposed flesh of his tanned throat. Wasn't the first time he'd seen Merle fuck someone without a care 'Preparin' ya' fer the real world. Ain't gonna let anyone pull the wool over yer eyes. Ain't how it works.'

Ducking down and into his tent he pawed about rumpled blankets and loose articles of clothing—didn't own a pair of matching socks and he hadn't for a long while- and managed to scrounge up a faded t-shirt to yank on over his head gracelessly after tearing out of the two sizes too big plaid article given to him by Hershel after he finished patching him up. Last thing he needed was to have Daryl strut through the camp buck naked. Daryl didn't mind, ain't got nothing to hide.

Prodding cautiously at the bandage slapped over his injury he wrinkled his nose and stared at it for a good second longer, cursing his own stupidity and bad luck before tugging the shirt down the rest of the way. He had places to be, little girls to find, no time for sitting around.

"Now you have to take it easy for a little while Daryl, please this could have easily gone south very quickly with a serious infection if you had been out there any longer."

"Are ya' fuc-"

"Language son."

"-kin' around with me Doc'? This ain't nothin' but a scratch an' I ain't need ya to tell me when I'm good an' ready to move my body." The older man had merely folded his arms over his chest well Daryl fumed and grit his teeth.

Leaning forward he spoke in a harsh whisper "I ain't just gonna sit around after what I done found. First real clue." he held up one hand, index and thumb barley apart "I was this close to findin' her I just know it."

"And if you had continued to look for her in your state, she would have run at the sight of you."

"What are ya' tryin' to-"

"She would have run screaming, crying, and begging for her Mother. Or, alternatively you could have collapsed, blacked out, been attacked and bitten. Turned. And you wouldn't be any good to anyone, not that little girl, not Rick, not Carol, not anyonein that state."

His belongings had evidently been cleaned and placed inside his tent atop a soft foreign blanket he knew for a fact hadn't been there before. A simple note written on a scrap of paper said Thank you, the scrawl was unfamiliar—he couldn't recognize anyone but Merle's anyway. He wasn't too sure on how long he'd been sleeping in the big soft bed with its flowery sheets, sweet smells and unwelcome home noises but it couldn't have been more than two days tops. Dropping his arse down in his tent leaving the door open to let some fresh air in he pulled the crossbow into his lap. Some important spots had been missed and he dragged his duffel towards himself to dig through it with one hand well a frown worked its way across his lips.

Well he polished and cleaned he ran through the mental map of where he would be scouting next, from the location of where he'd found the doll narrowing down the area he knew for a fact that he would be finding her real soon. With a sidelong glance to the note he grabbed it, setting aside his finished work to run his fingers over the words. Gently, he folded it in two and then once more before slipping it into his jean pocket. A strange feeling stirred in his gut with a tell that he had an inkling just who the note originated from. A slight smile pulled at his lips, it was short lived as he heard footsteps outside the tent and readied his weapon, free hand snatching up a bolt and setting it to fire.

Carol knelt down outside his tent, cautiously peering in and if she was surprised by the greeting she received she didn't show it. Simply offered him another of her soft smiles, he noted one hand held that damn doll clasped tight to her body. It had been cleaned thoroughly and looked nothing like the one he found in the forest earlier. "I hope you don't mind..." she began awkwardly after a moment, motioning to where his scarce belongings from the previous day had been piled.

He thought it might have been her—outside of Merle, who the fuck else did those things for him?

Scratch Merle. Who did those kinds of things for him?

"I'm hurt ya' think that way 'bout ol' Merle baby brother." his voice came from beside him, muscle jumping in his jaw at the clarity of it, how real it felt and sound but he managed not to look over where his own bed was, where he knew Merle would be stretched out mud caked on his boots, rifle near his hand and machete on his belt without a care in the world.

Bastard.

He still hadn't said anything to Carol and she had begun to look uncomfortable, retreating into herself, thinking she'd done something wrong. Probably didn't want her touching his things, caring for him, around him. Wanted her gone. Blamed her for everything that happened to him.

"I...no. It's uh...fine." he coughed drawing her gaze back to him and allowing him to watch as she visibly relaxed.

"May I?" she asked a moment later, motioning to the stretch of tent by the door with more than enough space for him between the two of them.

Daryl ignored Merle's cruel jeers and laughter from his right and nodded at Carol who hesitantly ducked inside to sit with her legs crossed and the doll resting in her lap. She looked tired and plenty thinner since he'd last seen her despite the abundance of food they had at the farm, he wondered just what was eating—har har—at her or was it just Sophia? Internally grimacing at the idea Daryl busied both his mind and his hands with sorting through his belongings and ignoring Merle singing a jaunty tune he hadn't heard since the mixtape in his truck.

He still had the mixtape tucked away in Merle's saddlebag. Daryl wasn't fond of having a particular attachment to an inanimate object—hell, he'd prefer if people stayed the fuck away from him too—but he'd been unable to leave that mixtape in the shoebox previously stashed in the front seat between him and whoever the hell had been his passenger. But it wasn't only the mixtape, no, it was the bike and every scrap of clothing, or every little belonging Merle had with him when they'd been at that Atlanta camp.

"Aw shucks Darleena, ya' big fuckin softie." a chuckle came from his right as a heavy hand slapped down on his thigh, he felt the weight of it, the warmth and if he managed to look close enough through a quick peek before it withdrew he could see the dirt under the blunt nails, the scars across the back of his hand and the cheap leather wristband Daryl had knicked for him out of some gas station four years back.

Alongside Busty Blondes issue #47, a twelve pack of beer and a king sized Snickers. Merle had always had a thing for blondes. Something him and Daryl both shared among other things he managed not to think about as Merle took up singing loudly off key another song from that damned mixtape and Carol sat running her fingers through the yarned hair of the little doll in her lap. "I'm gonna find her." he said, feeling tired blue eyes on him "Gonna bring her back to ya' an' I ain't ever gonna let somethin' like that happen again."

Out of the corner of his eye he saw her now twisting her hands together, a nervous habit, one of many he'd noticed since first seeing her hiding behind the big lump of wasted space. Daryl didn't give two farts about anyone else back then, didn't know why Merle was so keen on sticking around these fuckers lost without their GPS or daytime television. Merle's arm was tight around his shoulders, grey eyes full of almost childlike glee as he spoke in a hushed tone with his brother "They gonna need people like us, gonna come beggin' to us to feed 'em an' keep 'em safe from the zombs. Women will spread 'er legs like that-" and he'd snapped his fingers, Daryl's eyes flicked from his brother's free hand to his face "-fer a man willin' to keep her baby from bein' gobbled up like thanksgivin' feast." Not that he'd know, they'd never sat down and had a fabled night of turkey, potatoes, full plates and merriment.

Not like that, and the tv-dinners and busted microwaves didn't quite cut it. Awfully hard to find wild turkey in their neck of the woods. Other birds always worked but it wasn't quite the same, and neither Daryl or Merle cared for such bullshit anyway. "I know." Carol spoke "And I...thank you for saying it."

"Can say it again if ya' like." he offered.

Her smile was warm, and infectious as his own lips quirked up into one to mirror hers. "Rick and Shane are organizing another search." she began twining her fingers together drawing Daryl's attention downwards to watch her hands as they worked "Fuck Rick an' Shane."

She flinched, he cursed himself and only just refrained from slapping himself upside the head. "I mean-"

"They're scouting around the area you indicated on the map about where you found..." her hands rest atop the doll, he nods already standing to his feet "I ain't need them, move faster on my own."

His company stood swiftly as well, concern and something vaguely akin to panic clouding her features "No!" she clasped one hand over her mouth, eyes wide as though she'd yelled the foulest of words.

Daryl raised an eyebrow but stopped before the tent as Carol stood just behind him.

Fear rushed into her eyes as she stepped back from him, folding into herself once again. "I-I'm sorry I just-"

"'Hey, hey, hey." He held up one hand, shouldering his crossbow and shifting gingerly to arrange himself to better ignore the throbbing pain in his side "I ain't gonna..." he floundered uselessly for a moment as she pulled herself—slowly-out of whatever place she'd retreated into.

"It's been days and...if I lost..."

This wasn't going anywhere good, he could see Merle sprawled out on his side propping himself up on one arm to watch with mild interest as though observing a particularly interesting television program. Daryl reached around Carol to snap the flap shut against Merle's obscene hand gestures and crude remarks. "I'm bringin' her back." he repeated once again, and he would continue to repeat it over and over and over again if it made her happy, if it brought about that warm smile and kinds words he'd never known again.

"Pussy." Merle's remark was heard over his shoulder, he ignored it.

Distraction. She needed a distraction. Something that wasn't here, wasn't about Sophia or him, or Ed—bastard-or zombies or-"Ya ever go out with 'em?"

Smooth.

The older woman frowns "I...no...not for awhile I mean, they were police officer you know?" she twists her hands again, nervous habit—relaxing her- "They know what they're doing and I would only...get in the way..." she finished uselessly, swallowing.

Daryl sure hopes Shane didn't have the gall to say such a thing, he'd wring the bastard's neck.

"Pussssssssssy."

Screwing his eyes shut against the burst of hot breath smelling of beer and barbeque, when had been the last time they'd even had barbeque? When he opens them again the pressure of three leaves for a fleeting moment until he hears a whistled commercial jingle and he mentally reaches out, blindly, for something anything to do with himself. "I could teach you." he says quickly.

Carol's brows furrow, Merle stops whistling. "What?" she asks.

"What?" Merle sputters.

Daryl licks his lips "I mean...I could teach ya' a thing or two about..." he motions to the forest around the farm, the crossbow still over his shoulder, and finally at himself.

"About...what you do...?" She ventures both confused and curious.

"No. No fuckin' way baby brother, ya' ain't darin' to teach her!" Merle is outraged, large fists clenched tight at his sides a sure sign that he is about to punch something or someone.

"That's us!"he exclaims, offended or furious—perhaps a bit of both-"Me an' you! Not some city bitch who can't do shit against no one or no thing!"

Daryl said nothing in response, true Merle had taught him everything he knew. Every track, every rock and blade of grass, the best recipes for squirrel and the best way to cut and gut. How to move, how to fight, how to talk, how to think, how to live. And he didn't ever teach it to anyone else.

"I mean, when I...after I get Sophia back..." he added on uselessly, scratching at the back of his head.

The woman remained quiet, thinking to herself well Merle continued his tirade in the background, Daryl waited patiently feeling more and more stupid with every passing moment. What had made him blurt something like that? If Merle were here-

"I am here!"

-he'd throttle him. Fuck. If Merle were here ain't none of this would have happened, him and Merle wouldn't have stuck around to hang about on some farm. Group would probably be dead without them, but what did he care? He'd have his brother back.

A heavy weight across his shoulders, drawing him in close against a hard body, aged leather, and a tight grip on his upper arm. "That's right little brother. Ain't have stuck around for none o' this shit." Merle motions around with his free hand, tongue darting out over his lips "Woulda got me out o' that cuff, woulda held Officer Friendly down so I could beat the every livin' fuck out o' him an' throw him to the biters, we woulda got our shit and got the fuck away from these fuckers leavin' them to piss themselves and die."

Daryl swallowed thickly, remained quiet, held Carol's thoughtful gaze. "I think I'd like that." She said finally.

He could hear Merle's teeth grind together, grip turned bruising on his arm but he smiled sheepishly and nodded. "Yeah?"

"Yes."

Another warm smile, just for him. "Then that's what we'll do."

"Fuck you baby brother."