AN: alright I don't know what this is. I know I have WIP's, should not be starting anything:-/ I'm so blocked lately I'm happy to write anything at all.

Few points about this

⁃Merle cut the chain on the handcuff in Atlanta. He came back to group after the herd that hit quarry and killed Ed. Daryl and Merle left after the "I'll do it "pick axe scene. So Merle alive and has two hands

I do not own or profit from The Walking Dead

Chapter 1

Quarry

He watched her go through the motions, struggling to maintain herself in front of her kid. He wasn't sure why she was crying, was scared to be alone? Or did she actually miss the bastard? He wasn't sure.

Daryl had delayed as long as he could. Merle had come back from Atlanta,a pair of broken handcuffs dangling from his hand, fit to be tied and raring to leave, but Daryl couldn't just leave them like this, despite all his fucking bluster, he couldn't just take of and leave them to this. The devastation. They weren't strong enough to do this, to stick a blade in the heads of dead loved ones.

Asshole Ed was next on his list. He grunted at his bloated, torn apart face. There was one son of a bitch who had gotten what he deserved seemed to him.

Daryl was nothing if not observant, he saw the way the asshole would grab his wife, squeezing her wrists a little too tight, he saw the bruises she tried to cover. He'd seen it all. She'd intrigued him, the wife.

Never had he seen someone so determined to make themselves invisible. Everything about her seemed to blend into the background. Clothes, hair, hell,even the way she walked.

One thing she couldn't hide though. Those godamn eyes. Fuck, he saw those eyes in his dreams. They seemed to reach out and grab him. Pulling him in, making him want to know her, and he didn't want to know no one.

He sighed lifting his pick axe, when he heard a voice behind him.

"I'll do it, he's my husband."

He handed her the pick axe without saying a word. She had a look on her face, the one he'd recognized on his mama when she had left his daddy. At least the little widow's asshole husband wouldn't come back and murder her like his daddy had done his mama. That is if she could lift the axe.

She lifted the axe, slamming it down, almost pitching herself forward in the process. The raw sounds coming from her throat made his breath catch as she slammed it down over and over.

For the first time in his life he wanted to comfort someone but he wasn't sure how. He stood there gaping, watching her shed silent tears at her husband's mutilated coarse. He was amazed at the strength in this little woman.

"Darylina, if you're done playing mortician it's time to go." Merle whined from behind him.

She turned looking at him, her lashes were wet with tears and it only seemed to make her eyes more intense. As he got into the truck that Merle had found them to leave, he couldn't help but think those eyes had been seared into his soul.

Present Time.

"Sweet Jesus fucking fuck. Could this run get any fucking worse? How many fucking fucked up fuck buckets are we gonna find!" Daryl watched as Perez kicked at the tires of the car that the mechanic was trying to get running for their group.

They were on a long run, been out almost three weeks scouting out locations and other groups. Frankly Daryl was glad to get the fuck out of camp.

Leave it to Merle to get them sucked into a bad situation. The psycho had fooled Daryl initially, but even Daryl had been drawn in. It seemed innocent enough at first, he was a fool to think this guy actually wanted to help people. He'd been wrong and had been looking for a way out ever since.

"Did you check to see if there was gas?"

Daryl snorted ducking his head as Martinez asked Perez the question.

"Dude, I was a master mechanic, before the turn, do you think I would forget something like gas?" Perez yelled as he continued to kick the tires of the car.

"You're gonna break you're ankle." Martinez warned.

"Ceasar ...I ...am...not going to break my fucking ankle! Allow me two minutes to vent my anger and rage." Perez huffed in between kicks but stopped suddenly as the car sprang to life. The three turned to see Merle getting out of the drivers seat.

"You fucking forgot gas, you fucking idiot." Merle snuffed a grin on his face.

"No fucking way, you had this planned Dixon." Perez grinned.

The four of them had been placed together on a long distance run crew and Perez and Martinez had become almost like brothers to him. They had been working together now for over a year. Fantasizing ways that they could break free from their current situation. They'd often thought about not going back, when they had been on a run, but one thing or person kept them coming back. Perez's sister. The asshole leader of the group made it clear what would happen to her if they did not return. Daryl had a feeling that was part of Perez's panic right now.

"Let's get moving" Daryl said.

Xxxxxxx

Maybe two hours later they saw her, lying in the road. They stopped to check for weapons, Daryl grimacing as he rolled her to her back, then shocked as a gun pointed up at him.

Those eyes. Those fucking eyes. They haunted his dreams. He would know her anywhere.

"Carol?"he croaked.

"Daryl," she whispered a faint smile on her lips. She dropped her gun seemingly secure in the fact he wouldn't hurt her. Trusting him.

"What happened to you?" He asked putting a water bottle up to her lips.

"Stabbed" she panted. "I'm running from these assholes called The Saviours. Their leader Neagan is trying to hurt my group." She whispered, before her eyelids dropped closed and she went limp in his arms and unconscious.

The four men stared at each other in silence, all thinking it no one wanting to say it.

"You know what we have here Daryl don't ya?" Merle said his voice surprisingly soft.

"Don't say it" Daryl growled.

"I gotta we all know it, this is our way out. We bring her to Neagan it's our ticket out of the saviours."