***LINNEY IS MY CREATION IN A UNIVERSE I DON'T OWN - THE WALKING DEAD IS NOT MINE AND I KNOW IT!*** Read and review, folks - I've got more where this came from ***

Both Daryl and Merle stared at her in slack jawed shock. Merle put a hand over his eyes and chuckled. Linney held the knife by her side, swaying a little as she prepared for his next move. He was so volatile, she couldn't tell if he found her genuinely amusing, or was laughing in anger. Her gaze took in Daryl's impassive face and she realized by the tightness around his eyes, that he was as unsure as she was.

"You're tellin' me that you'll let me take what I want, if you can come with us?" Merle laughed hysterically, bending over and slapping his thighs. Linney grit her teeth and took a step closer.

"That's exactly what I'm saying," her voice was tight, and despite her best efforts, the desperation in her statement was evident. Daryl looked at her closely, as if trying to figure something out. Merle looked up, too, and walked quickly over to her. He glared down at her, all laughter gone.

"What if I just take what I want and you can go to hell?" He spoke softly, his breath stinking of alcohol and garlic. Linney held her ground and glared back just as angrily.

"Then I'll gut you like a fish," she said in a level voice. She brought her knife up, quickly and smoothly, and held the tip of it to his throat. They stood staring at one another, until Daryl came over and put a hand out, pushing the blade away from his brother's neck. He shoved her back and got between them again, facing his brother.

"Merle," he said, once. Merle's eyes shot over to his brother's face, and he returned the grim stare. Closing his eyes briefly, he turned away from Daryl with a grunt, pointing at Linney again.

"Fine, sweetheart. You wanna come on a trip with me n' Daryl? Fine." Linney nodded carefully, tucking the knife back into the sheath at her hip. Merle moved swiftly and grabbed her wrist, wrapping his fingers around it tightly. He held her arm in the air between them and spoke threateningly.

"You ever pull a knife or a gun on me again and I'll kill you m'self," he growled menacingly. Linney nodded and tried to pull her arm back. He gripped it tighter, making her flinch, and raised an eyebrow at her. She huffed out an exasperated breath and met his eyes again.

"Fine!" She exclaimed, wrenching her arm from his grip. He smiled at her and turned to walk away.

"Don't make me need to pull on you and we'll be fine," she spat out to his back. Merle paused and glanced back at her and her insides tingled, worried that he might attack her again. But he surprised her again by chuckling and grinning.

"You got a deal," he said. Linney nodded and jogged over to the tarp, pulling out her bag and slinging it onto her shoulders, wincing yet again at the pressure on her bruised body. She climbed up the stairs and pushed the front door open. Holding the door wide, she turned back to the Dixon brothers standing in the yard, watching her. She waved a hand at them.

"What are you waiting for?" She asked them. They glanced at each other and made for the stairs.

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"Oh man, oh baby, he's got some good shit in here." Merle rubbed his hands together as he stared down into the chest rammed full of drugs. Linney stood by the door and gestured with one hand at the closet.

"There's a bunch of weapons in there, too." Daryl looked over at her in surprise, walking quickly to the closet. When he threw the doors open he exclaimed, "Holy shit!" Linney watched as he grabbed a duffel bag from the floor of the closet and began to pull everything down, cramming it all into the bag. She glanced over at Merle and saw he was doing the same with her Dad's stash, using a large cloth shopping bag. She rolled her eyes at him, amazed at how out of whack his priorities were.

As soon as they were both busy, she turned and walked from the bedroom, heading straight outside into the bright sunlight. She jogged to the grey pick-up and was stopped short when someone grabbed the backpack and jerked her to a halt. She cried out when the sturdy straps dug into her bruises and nearly collapsed from the flash of pain. Daryl stepped around to her front.

"Calm down, girl, I was just seein' what you were up to," he said, his face irritated. She rubbed her left shoulder, under the strap, gingerly.

"I wanted to get in the truck before you all were done," she replied, trying to be calm. Daryl nodded and picked up the duffel full of guns before turning towards the truck. He tossed the guns into the bed and turned to her.

"Gimme your bag, I'll stick it back here," he said, not unkindly, waggling a hand at her. Linney nodded and trotted over. She reached up to remove the bag and hissed as a strap wrenched the wrong way, pulling on her tender skin. Daryl's face drew together in dark concern. He reached out and pulled the bag off her shoulders, tossing it carelessly into the truck.

"What the hell happened to you?" He demanded, pointing at the shoulder she was favoring. She swallowed and shrugged.

"I just hurt myself, pulled a muscle or something…" She trailed off as his eyebrows bunched up in a glare. He grabbed her arm and pulled her closer.

"Did you get bit?" He asked loudly, shaking her a little. She cringed and tried to pull away, unsuccessfully.

"No! He didn't bite me!" She retorted angrily. Daryl's other arm grabbed at the neckline of her blouse.

"You got bit, didn't you?" He insisted, yanking at the shirt. She shook her head and pulled back, trying to get away.

"What's goin' on?" Linney's eyes closed in resignation, hearing Merle come up behind them. Daryl shook her again and pointed at her shoulder.

"She got bit!" He yelled, and Merle was suddenly in front of her, shoving her back against the side of the truck. She looked desperately between them, her eyes wide.

"I swear to god I wasn't bit, he just hurt me!" They glanced at each other, clearly not believing her. Daryl released her arm and gestured at her shirt.

"Show me," he said, his jaw tight. She swallowed and undid the first three buttons on the linen blouse. She held a hand on either side of the neck.

"I swear, he just squashed me, it's just bruises!" Merle reached out, his face angry, and swatted her hands away, pulling the shirt open. She felt her face blaze red and looked away, hot with shame as she heard them both choke on gasps of horror at the swath of purple and red bruises splashed across her chest above her bra, and on her collarbone, shoulder and part of her neck. Some of them were clearly in the shape of human hands; but most of them were just blotchy and ugly.

"Holy fuck, sweetheart," Merle breathed. He looked at her, bending his head to force her to look in his eyes. She yanked her shirt closed and glared at him. His eyes were hard, but not crazed, for once. He gestured at her chest.

"Did your daddy do this?" She nodded once and then began to button up the shirt. Daryl turned away abruptly and walked around the truck, yanking open the driver's door with a loud creak. Merle placed a heavy hand on her head and then turned back to look over at her father's body, his brow furrowed in a glare.

Linney stepped away from him, her hand sliding down the side of the truck until she found the handle of the door. Wrapping her fingers around it, she turned back to Merle who was giving her an unreadable look.

"It was after he died," she managed, closing her eyes against the visions of the morning. "He came into my room and tried to… he tried to…" Her voice trailed off lamely and she opened her eyes to find Merle nodding at her.

"I hate those fucking things," he growled. She nodded at him. "Me too." Without another word he turned around and got on his bike, making it roar to life. Linney climbed up into the truck, settling herself into the passenger seat. Daryl didn't look at her as he started the truck, idling for a moment as he waited for Merle to turn himself around. He pushed it into drive and followed his brother out slowly. Linney twisted in her seat, suddenly needing to see her home one last time. It looked just as dank and miserable as her memories said it would and she sighed before settling back into her seat, Daryl watching her movements out of the corner of his eye.

"I'm sorry about your dad," Daryl said into the silence. She nodded once and then replied, "I'm not sorry about attacking your brother." Daryl was silent for a moment before he started to laugh, a rough, pleasant sound, slapping the steering wheel with both hands, once. She looked at him with a sly grin of her own and chuckled quietly.

"You are one strange little person," he laughed, glancing over at her. Linney raised an eyebrow at him and then looked back out the front window again, watching as Merle pointed to the left, indicating they were going to turn. Daryl followed him and they rode in silence for a few minutes.

"It occurs to me that I should probably ask where you guys are going," she spoke into the silence. Daryl nodded without looking over at her. One hand reached over to the glove box in front of her. He pulled it open and pointed inside.

"Grab that map there," he instructed. Linney reached forward and pulled out a battered map that covered this part of Georgia, and saw that someone had circled Atlanta with a big red marker and marked a route there as well.

"Atlanta," she said, "Makes sense." Daryl nodded.

"If there's any survivors, or any place that'll have food and guns, it's gotta be there, right?" Linney nodded, and Daryl poked a finger at the circled city on the map, his finger jabbing into her thigh underneath. "CDC's there too, ya know," he spoke confidently. Linney nodded again and pushed the map off her legs. Drawing them up onto the seat, she wrapped an arm around her knees and rested her chin there. Daryl glanced over at her before turning right, after Merle did.

"Don't you worry that Atlanta'll be, you know…" Her voice trailed off. Daryl's face was still and she worried that she'd pissed him off. "I don't want to shit on your plans, but it's such a big place, so many people." Daryl nodded slightly.

"We thought about that," he said quietly. Linney nodded again and leaned her exhausted body against the door. She rested an arm on the windowsill, and pillowed her head on it. Linney closed her eyes and let the jolting of the truck on the back roads rock her to sleep.

She must have slept for hours, because when Daryl grabbed her calf and shook her awake, the sky was nearly dark outside. She opened her eyes and moved slowly to sit up. Daryl sat in the driver's seat, one of her feet pushed into the side of his thigh, the other just barely resting on top of his leg. She yanked her feet back quickly and apologized.

"Sorry, sorry, I didn't mean to –," She began, stammering and glad for the dark so he couldn't see her face turning violet. Daryl opened his door and slid out.

"It's alright, you were tired." He slammed the door and she took a moment to compose herself before opening her door and sliding out. They were parked in front of a motel. Garbage and cars were everywhere and Linney gasped and stepped into the side of the truck with a thunk. There were three of the dead shambling around the abandoned lot, not twenty feet away. Daryl reached into the truck bed and pulled out his crossbow, nocking a bolt and sending it flying into the nearest one before she even had time to reach for her gun. Her hand patted the empty holster and she looked up at Merle as he stepped in front of her.

"I still got it," he spoke quietly over his shoulder, "You don't want to be firin' a gun anyhow; it attracts 'em like a dinner bell." Linney nodded at the back of his head and yanked out the largest knife at her waist. Merle darted forward and lunged at one that was approaching from their left and slammed the knife through its face. Linney watched as the creature, what used to be an old woman in a dirty, flowered dress, groaned and collapsed to the ground. That left one of them, moving towards the truck slowly, dragging a broken leg behind it. She swallowed hard and glanced over at Daryl, who had his foot planted on the head of the one he shot, he yanked the crossbow bolt out smoothly and nodded at her.

"Do it, kill it," he said quietly. Linney changed her grip on the thick wooden handle of the knife in her hand and stepped towards the monster in front of her. One step, sorry buddy, two steps, it's you or me, last step, and it isn't going to be me. With a grunt she forced the knife through the thing's temple and the knife was pulled out of her hand as it slumped to the ground and landed with a meaty thump. Linney bent over and carefully pulled the weapon out.

She wiped the gore from the blade on the lapel of the dead figure's coat and then turned to the two men behind her, both of them giving her small smiles. She smiled back, sheathed her knife again, took two steps towards them, and then bent over and vomited with enough force to bring her to her knees. She kept retching and gasping as a hand clapped her on the back.

"You'll do, sweetheart," Merle's voice was jovial. Linney glanced up at him sickly and he chuckled as he walked away, towards the nearest motel room door. Daryl helped her to her feet when she started to get up and he handed her a bottle of water.

"It gets easier," was all he said. She nodded weakly and washed her mouth out with water before drinking deeply. Daryl pulled her bag and a couple others out from the back of the truck, piling their gear on the ground. Feeling like a baby, Linney screwed the cap back on the bottle of water and tucked it into a side pocket on her bag. She decided that would be the last time she'd show such weakness. Merle returned and said, "It's clear," and both men started loading up on all the bags. Linney reached for the strap on her backpack, but Daryl put an arm out and pushed her hand away.

"Just leave it, we can get it, your shoulders are all bruised up," he said gruffly. Linney glared at him and shoved his arm out of the way, pulling up her bag and slinging it over shoulder. "I'm fine," she replied, her voice firm. She headed towards the open motel room door and heard Merle chuckle at Daryl.

"You heard her, get movin' little brother."