Author's Note: This is a re-working of something I was working on previous that I had called If I Could Turn Back Time. I was not satisfied with where it was going and decided to scrap the entire thing and start from scratch. It is still a follow-up/companion piece to Decisions, decisions as told from Daryl's perspective however this is going to start pre-season 1 and go from there.

Chapter 1

"Still lookin' for her ain't ya? Man, I'm tellin' ya she's as good as dead! She was smart I'll give her that and she followed ya 'round like a lost pup but she weren't smart enough to live through all this! I went along with ya on this one baby brother when this shit storm started but sooner or later ya gotta cut your losses, she's dead and the only thing you can hope for these days is that someone put her outta her misery before she turned."

Merle's been sayin' the same thing for weeks, sounding like a damn broken record but he's got a point, sooner or later I'm gonna have to make the call.

Still can't believe that the world, more or less, has ended and the dead are walking. There were reports on the news when it first started happening; in the beginning it was just a story here or there but eventually it blew up into widespread pandemonium. No one knows how it happened, what started it, all we know is that the National Guard was called in a few weeks ago and they started slaughtering people in the streets. We weren't there when it happened but we could hear 'em dropping bombs on Atlanta.

Me and Merle were out on a hunting trip when it all started; we just finished field dressing a nice 13-point buck and were tossing it into the back of my truck when one of those…things…came stumbling outta the woods. Naturally Merle was having fun with it until it tried to take a chunk outta his arm. He unloaded a couple of rounds into it, right in the chest, but it just kept on coming. Merle had it at arm's length trying to fight it off; I remember coming around from the other side of the truck with my crossbow and was hollerin' at it…told it to back the fuck off before I fired a shot in the back of its head. It wouldn't stop and I was left with no choice but to keep my word. It fell with a thud, the head sliding along the shaft of the arrow.

We high-tailed it outta there and got back to our trailer in record time. When I turned the news on the cameras were showing nothing but utter chaos and panic; people trampling over each other in the streets, looting, rioting, police throwing tear gas. Her house wasn't too far from where they were reporting, matter of fact her next door neighbor was seen on camera stumbling around and took a nice sized chunk outta the neck of one reporter. It was like something outta The Blair Witch with the camera dropping…just kept recording until they cut the feed off.

Panic set in knowing she was in the middle of all that. It had been close to three years since the divorce was finalized, three years since I last saw her but even if she didn't want me around I needed to know that she was alive, that she wasn't bit.

Since this all started it's been a hunt to find her and the only indication I had that she was alive was when I finally got to her house and found it devoid of some of her things like clothes but more importantly her fucking furballs weren't there. She had 'em long before she met my redneck ass and made it more than clear that no matter what she'd die before she ever let anything happen to her animals. The only other clue I had to go off of was when I went over to her parent's house and found it just as empty.

Been lookin' for her ever since.

"C'mon now boy, quit dragging your fucking feet and pick up the pace. You see these here tracks? They ain't from the biters, means people gotta be close-by. You remember the plan, don't ya? We go in, make nice, and when they lay their sweet lil heads to go beddy bye we take as much as we can and get the hell outta Dodge. By the time they wake up they won't know what hit 'em."

That's been the only plan we've ever had since this all started. How in the fuck did I let Merle talk me into this shit? Why did I ever fucking listen to him in the first place? Why do I keep going along with these ideas of his?

"May not be a bad idea to walk up to the front door this time, remember what happened the last time we tried going round the back? You damn near ended up with a bullet in the ass."

"Suppose ya may got a point there baby brother. Wouldn't be a bad idea to hang back and see what we're walking in on first. You go round that way towards the east, I'll head west, we'll meet back here at sunset and see what's what."

I did as that asshole asked knowing that if I put up any sort of resistance we'd give ourselves away when Merle started laying into me. Quickly and quietly, I moved through the woods taking care not to step on any large branches, my crossbow was at the ready should any of those things (biters as Merle calls 'em) show their ugly faces. Being up here though, away from the city, we've been lucky to not have seen any.

Approaching the tree line I spotted a tan colored RV with a single brown line going across the side, a large 'w' on the passenger side door, and a strip of the same brown color along the bottom. An old man perched atop the rust bucket was seated in a lawn chair and an umbrella was set up to keep as much of the heat off him as possible. From what I could see, he was holding a pair of binoculars to his face and was scanning the horizon for something, perhaps anything that moved (alive or dead) or was keeping track of where his people were.

There were a few others busying themselves around the self-made camp; a couple of the women were doing laundry, a couple of the guys were busy chopping wood. One bald, fat fuck sat on his ass while his woman kept looking over her shoulder. Another woman was seated on a stump, hunched over a card table with a pair of-

Shit!

Slithering back through the trees to where Merle and I had split up, I waited until he brought his ass back. Chances are he didn't even check anything out, hell he probably only got rid of me so he can go get himself high on which drug came outta that gallon bag he always carried. The sun was just starting to set by the time Merle dragged his stoned ass back to the meeting point.

"Ya see anything?" his words came out slurred and his feet were all over the damn place.

"Counted at least nine of 'em, they got at least two kids. We've done a lot of fucked up shit but we can't-"

"You'll do what I say, ya got it?! Found a pair of blondies down by the water washing clothes, would be nice to have something clean for a change."

"Makes it at least eleven or so in the camp, Lord only knows how many others there are. You sure this camp's a good place to hit? They got kids."

Before I knew what happened I found myself on the ground, the taste of copper on my tongue, and Merle standing over me with rage in his eyes. Bending over, he lifted me ease from the ground by my shirt collar.

"You listen to me little brother and ya listen good, we are gonna make nice with those people and we will wipe them out clean, ya hear me? This is about survival of the fittest and we Dixons were built for this world. It's finally ours for the taking and I'll be damned if I'm gonna let ya pussy out on me. Ya ain't married no more so quit acting like ya care. Ya had no problem calling her all those names and ya couldn't wait for the papers to be signed. She's as good as dead and so are they, may as well take what's ours and leave 'em to the biters. Now c'mon, let's scare up some dinner, we get enough squirrels maybe we can waltz into that camp with an offering."

He dropped me unceremoniously back to the ground and went on his way, like nothing ever happened. Rustling in the trees had me on high alert; grabbing up my bow I scampered outta sight just before a familiar face came into view. I wish I could say it was my ex but my anger was coming to a rapid boil when I saw him. Of all the people who ended up surviving the initial shockwave, fucking Shane Walsh had to be one of 'em. Maybe there's a slim chance that if he's alive he got her outta there just before things got too bad.

"C'mon out, we got a camp if you're hungry, tents if you need a place to sleep. Whoever you are, I'm a sheriff's deputy, not gonna hurt ya."

I couldn't help but sneer at him the more he spoke but I kept quiet until he finally gave up and headed back in the direction of the camp. Merle ain't gonna be none too happy when he sobers up enough to find out about this. That douchebag put him in jail so many times it ain't funny and who knows how many times he's tried to lock me up.

Stepping out from the tree I was hidden behind, I checked to make sure there was an arrow nocked and ready to go. Almost immediately a squirrel darted across my path, but it wasn't quick enough. Pulling the trigger, the arrow let loose and my first squirrel of many was impaled to the ground. Aluminum cans rustled not too far off letting me know that Merle was back at our camp probably doing nothing while I did all the hunting. Stalking towards my first kill of the day, I set out in search of more (squirrel stew is better than nothing).

By the time I was done with my hunt I had about a dozen or so squirrels strung up and Merle was nearly done tearing down our camp. Everything was thrown into the back of my truck except for Merle's bike. No doubt he was probably gonna ride into town and make everyone praise the Dixon name before they start to curse it.

"We'll head out the way we came and go the long way 'round, taking the gravel road from the highway and following it down to the quarry. It'll take longer but we'll be at their front door before we know it. We'll have to keep the lights down so we don't attract too much attention."

"Something ya need to know before we head in there."

"Ya found your stray little pussy? Halleluiah! I can finally quit listening to your whining!"

"Not exactly."

"The fuck does that mean, 'not exactly?' She's either there or she ain't!"

"After ya knocked me on my ass and stalked off one of 'em came through, must've heard your loud ass mouth."

"So what, it's not like we know who they are; we don't know them, they don't know us."

"The one that came looking was Shane fucking Walsh."

"Deputy Douchebag?"

"She ain't gonna be with him but maybe he knows where she went."

"He ain't gonna tell ya shit even if he knew anything."

Fuck…hate it when he's got a point…

"Just try not to do anything stupid that'll get us kicked outta the group; Walsh knows us better than any of those useless know-it-alls, if he even suspects that we're up to something he'll be trying to convince 'em in no time flat. Means ya gotta keep a lid on that mouth of yours around those kids…from the looks of it none of 'em got a sense of humor so no sex jokes either."

"Ya mean no fun." Merle grumbled, climbing onto his bike and turning the ignition over.

After gently laying my bow in the back on top of some tattered blankets we took from the last camp we robbed blind I wrenched the door of the truck open and climbed inside, quickly putting it into gear to follow Merle out along the make-shift path that we made. His lone headlight shone brightly against the white gravel road as we crept through the night. Traveling through the dark with only the stars started bringing back memories of the times when I'd take her camping and we'd lay out in the grass in silence until she fell asleep.

It didn't take as long as I thought it would to get to the other side where the group we saw were set up; the noise from Merle's bike was enough to put everyone on edge and the rattle from my muffler didn't help none. Once everything was shut off and it grew quiet the group of strangers we surmised to be no more than eleven had grown to what seemed to be twice that much. Along with the two kids I had spotted earlier there were two more huddled close to their parents: a boy and a girl clutching a doll to her chest.

"Not another damn step or I swear I'll blow your head clean off your shoulders, do you understand me?"

It took every fiber of my being to not stalk across the campsite and just hit Walsh in the face but a warning look from Merle was the only thing keeping me in check, that and the possibility that he might know where she is.

"Cool your jets there cowboy, ain't gonna hurt nobody, just saw your fire and came to check it out is all."

"Jesus Christ, Dixon, never thought I'd see your ugly face again."

Shane slowly began to lower his gun, the tension remained palpable but it lessened the lower the shotgun got.

"We ain't trying to cause no trouble, if you'll have us, we'll pull our weight and stay outta everyone's hair. Even brought a welcome gift; Daryl get it outta the back would ya?"

Reluctantly, I again listened to my brother and got the string of squirrels out of the bed of the truck, slinging the flimsy piece of rope over my shoulder then made my back to where Merle was standing hoping that he didn't cause any problems in my short absence. As I approached the two were exchanging words but no threats were being made, which is quite the feat for Merle since he always threatened to beat Walsh's ass the next time he saw him. Dropping the squirrels in the center of the invisible line that divided us I stood on the side to wait and see what would happen. One of the kids squealed in delight at the sight, excitedly exclaiming that they could eat meat for a change.

It was practically a unanimous decision at that point that we were a part of this band of ill-equipped misfits. Merle surprisingly volunteered to skin the kill in the morning and show everyone how to make a proper stew out of them but I could feel Shane staring at us with mistrust. Regardless of how he felt about us being here I needed to know if she was dead or alive. Pulling my gear out from the back of the truck I pitched our tent near the tree line and laid out our respective cots. Upon returning to the truck to get the last of our stuff I saw someone rifling through our stuff; rage instantly filled my being and as I latched on to the collar of the perpetrator I quickly realized it was one of the kids and had to change my attitude real quick.

"Didn't your mama ever teach ya not to go through other people's shit? Go on back to where ya belong 'fore ya find out what real whoopin' is!"

"I'm sorry…just never seen one of those before. What is it?"

The little bastard somehow managed to climb onto the tailgate and dragged my bow from one end of the truck to the other. Another wave of rage was about to surface when the old man I saw earlier showed up to keep the peace. Laying a hand on my shoulder he whispered in my ear that his dad was dead and to take it easy on him.

"Ain't ya ever seen a crossbow before?"

He shook his head 'no' and continued to stare at it in fascination, cautiously reaching out to try and run his fingers along the trigger guard. I quickly grabbed his hand to prevent him from touching it any further then whirled him around to give him a sharp smack since his mom apparently wasn't very good at doing her damn job. Almost immediately Shane was hounding my ass, threatening to kick us out before morning if I ever touched that kid again.

"Maybe he'll learn his fucking lesson about touching other people's shit. Don't give a damn if his daddy's dead or not, it ain't his to be touching on."

"Is that the one Claire gave ya?"

"Only thing I have left of her, ain't seen her since the divorce was finalized three years ago. Was kinda hoping that you'd tell me she was here."

"I was in King when it all went down; my best friend died in a hospital bed and that boy and his mama became my priority after that, I had to get them out. Sorry but I wasn't even thinking about Claire when this all happened. How the fuck do you know if she's even still alive?"

"I just do. Tell that kid I ever catch him snooping around our shit again he'll get more than his ass popped once."

Stalking towards our tent I couldn't help but wonder where she could've gone but at least I knew she wasn't here. Flopping down onto the cot, I fell into an uneasy sleep with my bow resting across my stomach in case someone or something other than Merle tried to come in. Intermittent memories began to haunt me once more but they always culminated into a single moment: the two of us lying in bed talking about our shitty days, one hand combing fingers through my hair and the other holding a book until I finally had enough and take it away from her. She'd laugh and commented on how I always need attention. Just before she'd shut the light off she would concede and sing me off to sleep. It was our song she'd always sing.

Looking back on it I can see why she wanted that to be our song.

"Why don't you come to your senses, something, something, something, you better let somebody love you before it's too late."