I hope you are all liking it so far! I decided to post the second chapter now. Please read and review. I take suggestions, requests, and ideas. Enjoy! :)

I sat on my bunk, my legs hanging off the mattress, muttering to myself. My face was in my hands, occasionally smoothing my hair in an irritated manner.

I can't believe it, I told myself. Him? HIM?! How the hell did he find me?!

I grunted, stood up, and began pacing the room nervously.

He's back. Oh, he's back. He won't be happy. He ISN'T happy. He's pissed. After years and years, that ol' bastard managed to survive. But HOW did he find ME?! Such a small damn world...

There was a soft knock at the door. I scrunched my face and whirled around to glare at whoever it was, only to retreat to a solemn sigh upon the realization of who it was. I was relieved it wasn't Carter.

"Daryl?" Carol asked meekly. "Can I come in?"

I didn't respond. She cleared her throat again and spoke, clearly hurt.

"I wanted to make sure you were okay..."

I turned away, facing the wall, my hands on my hips, staring down at my feet. My mind was so jumbled with thoughts. It horrified me. Here? He was here all along? And now he's at the prison. He knows where I am. All those years...Merle isn't here anymore. He knows that. What am I supposed to do?

Carol, upon seeing the idea of not being wanted, she refused to leave. She walked to my bunk, sat down carefully, folded her hands in her lap, and waited patiently for what seemed like forever. I was growing annoyed with her presence, but didn't say anything. The last thing I wanted was to hurt her feelings. She was the last person I ever wanted to hurt.

"Daryl," she said at last. "What happened? What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I muttered. "It's fine."

"You stormed off," Carol said, ignoring my excuse. "That man...did he say something to you?"

"No. It's fine," I repeated. "Forget it."

"You seem uneasy..."

"Well no shit," I retorted.

"But this man, he helped us out. You shouldn't shun him..."

"We gotta take care of ourselves," I told her sternly. "This ain't a daycare. I don't want this place turning into Woodbury #2."

"So what's one man? We could use the muscle and military experience..."

"Pft!" I growled, slouching against the wall.

Carol looked down at her hands, disappointed.

"If it weren't for him, we probably wouldn't had noticed the herd. We could have been trapped in that store..."

"You would have been just fine without him," I assured her harshly.

"No, I wouldn't have," Carol argued, her voice growing watery. "Because if he wasn't there, I probably would be dead too."

I turned to look at Carol, watching as her head fell and tears spilled down her face. She wiped them away quickly and sat up straighter, trying to hide her sadness.

"It was Carter who took out a good chunk of the Walkers. I ended up hiding in the bathroom stall as two came in. He took them both out, one of which was clawing it's way beneath the divider. Just fine without him? If you call a tragic death of being eaten alive is fine, then you're right. But it isn't, and you're not."

I looked away, biting my lip.

So, my ol' man has a kind heart for ladies? Why didn't he have one for my mother? What about me and Merle, huh?

Carol, seeing my mental debate, though unaware of the situation, sighed.

"You have to get to know him more. Maybe you'll warm up to Carter. Maybe, in a week, he won't be a stranger anymore..."

She was oblivious, I told myself. Carol has no idea. NO idea. Carter? He was my father, and not a good one. My childhood was a wreck because of him. I still held the scars of all those times he punched me like a damn punching bag, or how he slashed my back with his leather belt. How he would lock me in my room and starve me for days, holding me captive like a prisoner. His own son! He treated me like total shit. Merle too. That's why he left first, and when he did, I was abandoned with a man who beat me every time he got shit-faced drunk. I wasted years with him, and I got away by the time I was 12. I thought he was as good as dead, but I guess Carter adapted as quick as I did. Damn asshole...

"Ain't no way I'm getting close to that bastard," I told Carol. "He's a cold-hearted piece of shit. He needs to go."

"You don't know him yet!" Carol pleaded. "Give him a chance!"

"If he isn't gone by morning, I'm getting rid of him myself," I stated firmly.

"You have no jurisdiction to make a decision that cruel," Carol argued. "Get that sick idea out of your hard-head and accept him. It's only temporarily..."

"Ain't no way he's coming in here..."

"Just please get over it. He may be a great addition to the group..."

"He's gotta go..."

"Daryl!"

"It's a damn mistake!"

"Really, Daryl?" Carol said, her voice rising. "Taking in a friendly stranger is a 'damn mistake' you say?!"

"Hell yeah!" I exclaimed.

"Then why?"

"Trust me."

"Why?!"

"Just trust me!"

"Daryl!"

"Bitch, listen! That man is 10 times worse than Merle!"

"How would you know?! You just met this guy!"

I stopped talking. Carol looked at me, her eyes wide.

"Well?" she pressed. "Why?"

I stared at her blankly, loss of words.

"Why, Daryl? Are you going to support your reason?!"

My fists were clenched. I gritted my teeth. I was pulsing with rage.

"WHY?!" she exploded.

"BECAUSE I GONE THROUGH 12 YEARS OF HIS SHIT AND I AIN'T GONNA LAST ANOTHER MINUTE!"

With that, I stormed away, leaving my cell. Carol was left, perched on the mattress, her hands gripping the bed as though she were about to fall over. She was trembling slightly, her face beet red, and she was panting, on the verge of tears.

Bitch needs to stop crying, I told myself. Like a damn baby. Lil' Asskicker is more grown up than her.

I nearly tumbled down the steps as I ran from the cell, but I grunted furiously and marched out of the giant room lined with cell blocks. I entered the large chamber, throwing open the iron-bar door carelessly, which screamed in pain. When I stepped inside, my face immediately burnt red; everyone was still, paused in the middle of performing their actions, staring at me in disbelief.

I cursed under my breath.

Shit. They heard me. Goddamn it.

Rick was the first to approached me, his hand resting on his gleaming, silver Python. I threw daggers at him with my eyes.

"What?" I demanded. "Am I the enemy now?"

"No, Daryl," Rick said cautiously, raising his hand to calm me down. It only made me madder. "Just hold up a second..."

"Leave me be," I growled, pushing aside him.

Rick extended an arm and gripped my shoulder to stop me. Immediately, upon a practiced reflex, I flinched, thinking it was an attack. When I opened my eyes, Rick was watching me with a woeful expression. Fuming, I shrugged him off harshly and glared at him. Rick backed away.

"Daryl, chill out. There shouldn't be a problem."

"Yeah? Well there is," I spat in his face.

I turned on my heel and paced towards my crossbow, which was propped up against the wall near the iron door of the prison.

"Daryl! You shouldn't go outside. It's late. You won't be able to see."

"I'm going hunting," I lied.

"At nighttime?" Rick asked me in a sarcastic tone. "Yeah, right."

"What's it to you?" I snarled.

I stopped, inches from the handle, waiting for a response. I took a step back, facing the rusted door, and dropped my head, sighing. I could feel everyone's eyes on me, imagining what they were thinking through my self-conscious mind.

Crazy redneck.

Another temper-tantrum? Figures...

Why is this guy still here?

I blushed angrily and clenched my jaw, my crossbow falling to my side sheepishly.

Why AM I still here? I thought to myself.

Rick's footsteps echoed through the room and ceased until I was positive that he was behind me.

"Daryl, I don't know what's got you worked up, but you shouldn't make any decisions that you would later regret."

"I don't regret nothing," I scoffed.

"I didn't say you did..."

"Got anything else you wanna say to me?" I challenged, turning to face him.

Rick backed away, descending the small staircase in defeat. Looking up, I saw 5 faces staring at me; Maggie, who watched with worry; Glenn, who was almost mad; Hershel, who was disappointed; Beth, who seemed frightened; and Carl, who was gripping his gun, debating whether or not he should raise it to my head. I spat at the ground and turned away, unlocking the door.

"That's it, then?" Rick called after me.

I froze in the door and sighed. The door opened, I stepped outside, but didn't close it behind me. Everyone remained motionless. The room was so quiet that I could hear the blood thumping in my ear, an adrenalin kicking my chest, and the labored breathing of everyone in the room. My crossbow was shifted to a comfortable position on my shoulder.

"Gimme some time," I told them in a husky voice, then exited the room without anymore interruptions.