Thanks for the reviews. :) And thank you for continuing to read this. Maybe Daryl's not totally himself... Maybe he's being too nice... But I'm just going to go with it. I think Daryl's nicer than he seemed and than even he realizes... He was just raised by Merle, who's a crazy motherfucker who taught him to be extremely weary of dealing with anyone and everyone. But I think deep down, Daryl's a nice guy... Just misunderstood. It's only fanfiction, after all... We'll all be okay. ^_^

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Chapter3

Daryl jogged at a steady pace down the deserted highway. Surely the rest of the members of their group hadn't driven too far... They were probably parked up ahead somewhere, and were probably organizing a search party at this very moment. Rick wouldn't leave anyone behind... For some reason the guy seemed to think it was his job to take care of everyone. Maybe it was because before all this zombie stuff, it kind of was his job to do so...

He was pretty sure someone would come back for them eventually, and even if no one did, he and Glenn would eventually come across an abandoned car or something... They were on a fucking highway in the middle of the zombie apocalypse... Someone had to have abandoned a car nearby... He hoped their luck would turn around soon, because being out here in the open and in the dark was so dangerous, especially considering he had to look out not only for himself, but for the little Asian kid too. And said kid happened to be without a weapon, and with a hurt wrist. Daryl felt confident he could keep himself alive, but adding an extra unarmed, basically defenseless person into the mix greatly increased his chance of failure.

He could hear the sounds of movement in the woods along the road. Even if they kept running, it didn't guarantee they'd avoid death. These woods were probably just crawling with zombies. They weren't far from Atlanta, which was a pretty big city. The city's population had to have gone somewhere, and that somewhere was probably the woods - to find things to kill and eat, whether those things be fleeing survivors or wild animals.

Behind him, he heard Glenn's shoes hitting the pavement as the boy tried to keep up with him. He could also hear the younger man's heavy breathing and knew he must be exhausted, but they couldn't afford to dick around and get themselves killed. When you're walking along a road surrounded by blood-thirsty monsters, you've got to say goodbye to small comforts such as steady breathing and painless limbs. Personally, he'd rather them be a bit uncomfortable than dead.

He glanced over his shoulder and eyed his companion briefly. Sure enough, the Asian looked completely exhausted. He was even holding onto his right side with his injured hand, as though all of his organs would spill out if he didn't keep his hand in place, holding them in, "keep up the pace back there," he called out to the kid, trying to give him some sort of encouragement.

Glenn didn't respond, he just kept trying his best to keep up. When he glanced back again, Daryl noticed the younger man's facial features were a bit scrunched up as though he was in pain and his breathing seemed quite laboured. Maybe he was hurt more than he'd led on... He had told Daryl it was just his wrist and shoulder... But he certainly seemed to be in a lot of pain.

"You okay back there?" Daryl called back to the boy as he continued his quick pace.

Glenn made some sort of noise between his heavy breaths, but Daryl couldn't really say for sure he knew whether this noise meant 'yes' or 'no.' So he slowed down his pace and turned toward the younger man.

The Asian boy bent forward slightly and breathed in and out in quick, pained gasps, "I'm okay," he managed to squeak between two of these breaths, "if we could just not run so fast..." he suggested.

Daryl sighed, "I know you're tired," he frowned as he actually started feeling bad for the little Chinese kid. He looked like he might actually pass out from exhaustion, "but we gotta get someplace safe, an' fast. If the others kept going and aren't coming back, we're gonna need to find some sort of transportation. The next abandoned car could be miles and miles ahead... And there's probably a lot more hoards of walkers just like the one that attacked the camp. The sooner we find a car, the better."

"I know," Glenn was still breathing heavily, "and I agree," he breathed in and out again, "but I just don't know how much longer I can keep up." He gripped his side with his left hand now as he stumbled after Daryl. He even looked like he was limping a bit.

Daryl didn't need to ask him if he was hurt. It was a redundant question. The boy was obviously in pain. Daryl just hoped it wasn't something serious. If his ankle or leg was broken, he wouldn't have been running at all, so that wasn't something to really worry about. His ribs could be damaged seriously though. They could be broken, which could mean internal bleeding. Daryl was no doctor, but he knew enough about the human body to know broken ribs weren't something you could just ignore while sprinting down a highway.

"Gimme that flashlight," Daryl demanded as his pace decreased into nothing and he stood in front of Glenn.

The boy handed it over without question. Daryl flipped the light on and shined it up at Glenn's face. Glenn didn't protest. Instead he just squeezed his eyes shut and continued breathing seemingly painful breaths. His forehead was covered in sweat and some of his hair clung to it. That was no surprise, since they had been running. But Glenn was still gripping his side as though someone had shot him. Daryl suddenly felt dread in the pit of his stomach. When they'd left the camp, everything had been so hectic that Daryl never stopped to think the boy could have been injured. But surely he'd have said something if someone had shot him by accident... He'd told Daryl about his wrist and shoulder, so why wouldn't he say something about a more serious injury? Daryl shook his head, ridding himself of these illogical thoughts. The kid hadn't been shot. He'd probably just landed on something when they'd wrecked the motorcycle.

Daryl shined the light around the two of them, surveying the area to make sure nothing sinister was approaching them and then focused back on Glenn. The boy's eyes were open now and he was staring at Daryl with confusion marking his features.

"Lemme see your side," Daryl demanded, reaching out toward Glenn's shirt.

Glenn took a step back, putting his hands over the bottom of his shirt and pulling it down further than it already was, "what?" he gasped.

"Your side," Daryl repeated more slowly than before. He hated having to repeat himself, "you didn't forget English, didya?"

The boy still looked confused. He shook his head, "No... I just..."

"Good, cause I don't know Chinese," Daryl quipped. He knew he was annoying the boy with these racist remarks. That's why he said them. Maybe he was more like his brother than he'd realized. He sighed, "I just wanna make sure you're not killing yourself by runnin' around with broken ribs."

Glenn's eyes widened even more. Daryl's comment must have scared him, because he moved his hands out of the way and allowed Daryl to lift his shirt up to expose his aching side.

Daryl shined the light on the boy's now exposed skin. He had to suppress a wince when he saw Glenn's side. The skin over his ribs was pretty bruised. They had only wrecked less than a half-hour ago, so the bruise was probably only just starting to form and would likely look much worse later, "here," Daryl said, "hold your shirt up," he ordered. Daryl was holding both the flashlight and the shirt. He needed to free up one of his hands.

"Do you think anything's broken?" Glenn's voice was small and he was still breathing rapidly. In fact his unnaturally rapidly rising and falling chest was quite distracting to Daryl as he tried to survey the damage.

He poked the boy's ribs with his calloused finger. Honestly, he didn't really know much about broken ribs. He assumed they would just seem to be jutting out at an awkward angle or something, but he was no doctor. Glenn's ribs seemed to all be where they were supposed to be, but what did Daryl know? Not much... Not about this anyway. He'd suffered many broken bones and dislocated joints in his life. They were easier to diagnose when they were within his own body. He didn't often have to look out for anyone other than himself.

"Does it hurt a lot?" Daryl asked, trying to make some sort of educated guess as to how damaged the guy's ribs might be. He looked down at Glenn's face. The boy looked pretty uncertain and frightened. He was also clearly still trying to catch his breath.

Glenn shook his head and shrugged, "Not too much if I hold still. I've never had broken ribs... But I thought they were probably just bruised... They don't feel like they're broken... I mean, I think I'd know if they were, right? Like, they'd feel broken... in pieces, you know? It's not like that, I don't think... Just feels like a sharp pain when I run or bend one way or the other too fast," he looked down at his ribs as well and in-took a sharp breath when he saw the bruises. Or maybe the small movement had been enough to cause him more pain...

"I think you'll be fine," Daryl assured him. He hoped he was right, "we'll move at a slower pace," he offered, "but let's try to not go too slow... It'd be stupid to let ourselves get killed over small comforts. Anything gets up too close to us, an' I'm runnin. An' if that happens, you'd best follow suit."

He glanced over at Glenn who looked incredibly grateful, as if Daryl had just offered to carry him. Daryl narrowed his eyes as he wondered why Glenn looked so happy. It wasn't like the older man had really given him anything. They were making a sacrifice here - going slower so he wouldn't be in much pain, but increasing their chances of being caught and murdered by walking corpses. Glenn probably should have been scared instead of grateful. Dayrl clicked the flashlight off, pushed it back at the kid, and started back on his trek along the highway. This time, Glenn walked at a brisk pace beside him instead of struggling to stay even ten feet behind him.

"Maybe the others assume we're dead," Glenn muttered as they walked. He still sounded out of breath, but not as bad as before.

Daryl shrugged, "maybe. I'd hope they'd have more faith in us than that. Neither of us seems like the type who'd let ourselves get killed."

Glenn laughed, "I don't know... I've almost gotten killed lots of times."

Daryl glanced over at him. He was right. In fact Glenn was about to be killed back at their camp before Daryl had shot the walker who was moving in on him, and would have surely been swarmed and eaten alive if Daryl hadn't been there and offered him a ride at that exact moment. And Daryl had only spotted the Asian kid at the last minute. In fact, the older man had been set to leave right then. He almost hadn't even heard Glenn's frantic voice pleading for Daryl to take him with him. He wouldn't tell Glenn this, but the poor boy had almost been left behind.

The older man hadn't considered that Glenn would be someone who would be forgotten by the rest of the group. He had just assumed someone else would be looking out for for the kid. But now that he actually thought about it, he realized Glenn wasn't really anyone's top priority. Sure, people at camp liked him and cared about him, but he had no family there. Everyone took care of their own first, and Glenn was no one's. Andrea and Amy would take care of each other, and they both seemed pretty close to Dale. Rick and Shane had each other's backs, and they both watched out for Lori and Carl. T-Dog and Jacqui seemed to look out for each other. And Carol would look after for her daughter Sophia... Her husband Ed might even make an effort to keep the two of them alive, even it if was only so he could still have someone to boss around. Even Daryl had had Merle to watch his back up until recently. Glenn was just sort of there - a friend to everyone, but no one's number one.

Everyone at camp had probably assumed he'd gone with someone else. No one was even looking out for him. Daryl hadn't been worried about him either. He had only found him by mistake. Daryl wasn't worried about anyone. He knew they'd all take care of each other and felt responsible for none of them. But maybe he should have been looking out for Glenn, if no one else would.

"You okay, Daryl?" Glenn's voice drew him back to the present.

Daryl stared at him. The kid's eyebrows were knitted together with worry, "I'm fine," Daryl narrowed his eyes. Why did Glenn always look so worried?

"You think anyone of 'em know how to fix your arm?" Daryl wondered, "I mean... Assuming we even meet back up with 'em... Were any of 'em doctors or somethin? I know Shane and Rick were cops. Carol was probably just a house wife 'er something... Andrea was... uh..."

"A lawyer I think," Glenn offered.

Daryl nodded, "nobody had any god damn jobs that were practical. What good's a lawyer?"

Glenn shrugged, "they're pretty useful when you're in legal trouble," he offered.

"Well, I don't think none of us is gonna be in legal trouble any time soon," Daryl raised his eyebrows.

Glenn shook his head, "Nah... I don't think so either. My wrist is probably going to be messed up forever."

Daryl frowned, "I'll try my hand at fixing it if no one else will," he offered, "how hard can it be? Doctors are some of the dumbest fuckers I've ever met. If they can do it, anyone can."

"I don't know..." Glenn seemed quite hesitant, "it's probably harder than it seems..."

"Guess we'll find out," Daryl smirked as Glenn pulled his wrist protectively away and shielded it with his other hand.

"Listen!" Glenn suddenly whispered, "sounds like an engine!"

Daryl did as instructed. It did sound like an engine. In fact, it sounded like a pick-up truck. Either someone was coming back for them, or they were about to meet some other survivor(s.) Hopefully it was someone they already knew. Daryl didn't much care for them, but at least he knew they probably wouldn't kill him for his crossbow... or just kill him for fun in this lawless world. Trusting people wasn't ever something he was good at, and that was especially true now that people could do whatever they wanted with no consequences.

Glenn turned on the flashlight and shone it around to draw the attention of whomever was approaching. With the light, they wouldn't be mistaken for reanimated corpses or be looked over entirely.

It wasn't long before Daryl could see headlights coming around a bend up ahead. He tightened his grip on his crossbow, just in case, and stopped walking as he waited for the vehicle to approach. Glenn had stopped walking as well. The two of them stood together and waited.

Daryl could see that Glenn was much more relieved than he was. Glenn saw any sign of life as his savoir. Daryl knew better than that, and thought Glenn should too, especially after those guys back in Atlanta had grabbed him and pulled him into their car as a sort of hostage. Maybe the fact that they had ended up not being as sinister as they'd seemed at first had taught Glenn the reverse of the lesson he should have learned from that experience.

What he should have learned from that was that no one could be trusted. Hell, Daryl didn't even trust the group they'd been living with. And he sure as hell wasn't going to trust anyone new he met.

As the truck pulled up next to them, Daryl was somewhat relieved to recognize the driver. Of course, it was Rick. He was smiling, "Am I relieved to see you guys..." he sighed, "anyone else with you?" he asked, scanning the area and then looking back toward Glenn and Daryl.

Glenn frowned, "no," he sounded sad, "who else is missing? I don't think anyone made it out of camp after us... All the cars were gone and everyone at camp was either dead or a geek by the time we got out..."

Rick sighed, "There are quite a few missing still... And several confirmed dead by witnesses."

Daryl rolled his eyes. Rick was speaking as though he was leading a press conference, "you ain't a cop no more," he scoffed, "you don't gotta talk like you are."

"I'm sorry," Rick reached over and opened the truck's door since neither of the other men had bothered to get in yet, "come on," Rick instructed, "let's get out of here while we still can."

"Where are we going to go?" Glenn asked as he climbed in first and took a seat in the middle between Rick and Daryl.

Rick shrugged, "I don't know..."

"Should we go back to see if anyone else made it?" Glenn asked, sounding a bit hopeful.

"No one else made it," Daryl assured him.

"How do you know?" Glenn frowned, "what if it was you back there? You'd want someone to come back if they could... We could be their only chance!"

"Glenn," Rick stepped in, reaching over and putting his hand carefully on the boy's shoulder, "I don't think there's any chance that anyone back at camp is still alive. And if they did make it, they probably ran off through the woods or toward the city. If they stayed put, they'd be killed for sure. We can't go out and search the whole woods. There's nothing we can do."

Glenn was clearly upset. He was breathing in and out rapidly again, just like he had when he and Daryl had been running too fast. He looked like he might be having a panic attack. Daryl glanced over at Rick, who was looking at Glenn with a very worried expression on his face.

"Can't we at least drive back in case someone made it to the road?" Glenn wheezed, "what if you'd assumed me and Daryl were dead!? What if you didn't come back for us? You probably didn't think we could have made it, but we did! And you found us! There could be others... Please!"

"Okay," Rick agreed, "You're right Glenn. I'd want someone to come back if it were me. We can do that," he sounded like he was consoling an unhappy child, "We can drive back in that direction and check. That's not unreasonable at all..."

The former sheriff shifted the truck into gear and continued down the road.

"Can you tell me who all made it?" Glenn asked. His interest in all of these people made Daryl feel bad for him. Why did he care about them all so much? He hadn't even known any of them a year ago. And they probably didn't care that much about him, or else they wouldn't have left him behind.

"My family, Shane, Carol and Sophia," Rick started listing names as he looked like he was thinking back, remembering who he'd seen among the living, "T-Dog and Jacqui, Andrea, Dale, Morales and his family... and Jim... but he was bitten... He's still alive for now, but I don't know what we're going to do..." Rick sighed as he finished, "I think that's it..."

Daryl looked over at Glenn. He looked devastated, "there were so many people... That's all that made it? Really? That's it?"

Rick shook his head, "I'm sorry, Glenn. There were more walkers than there were people... We were outnumbered. I guess we should count ourselves lucky that any of us made it."

"And now they're all walkers too," Glenn looked down at his swollen wrist and frowned.

The three of them sat in silence for a few minutes as Rick drove slowly down the highway, almost at a snail's pace. Daryl kept his eyes open and scanned the road for survivors. He didn't really care much about what happened to any of the individual people... He wasn't really friends with them, but if someone was out there walking by themselves, hoping for someone to save them, he supposed there was no harm in looking for them.

"You guys walk all this way?" Rick asked, finally breaking the silence.

"We had Merle's motorcycle," Daryl frowned, "but a group of walkers came out of nowhere... I didn't see 'em until it was too late. Lost control of the bike. It's totaled. So we just left it in the road and walked until you showed up."

"You wrecked?" Rick seemed surprised. He glanced over at Daryl and then at Glenn, "are you guys alright?"

Daryl just stayed silent. He wasn't hurt bad enough to bother telling anyone. All he had wrong with him were minor superficial scrapes and bruises, the kind of injuries his body was covered in probably more often than not. But he looked at Glenn, waiting for the boy to confess to his own injuries.

"My wrist is broken," Glenn sighed.

Daryl could feel the truck slow to a near halt and noticed Rick's eyes had settled on Glenn's wrist, "It looks pretty swollen," he commented, "Can't say I know how to treat a broken wrist," he frowned, "but surely someone will," he clapped Glenn on the shoulder reassuringly, "you'll be alright," he offered a rather forced-looking smile.

They continued driving slowly, all three of them squinting out the windows, hoping to find some sign of other survivors. They eventually reached the place where Daryl had lost control over Merle's motorcycle and where they'd killed the three walkers. Then a little while later they reached the place where they would have turned off if they were going back to camp. But the closer they had gotten to their camp, the more random walkers they'd seen pacing around. Going back to camp would have been way too risky considering there was pretty much zero chance of there being any survivors there.

So Rick turned the truck around and they started back the way they'd come.

Daryl observed his companions. Glenn looked exhausted, like he was struggling to even keep his eyes open. Meanwhile Rick looked incredibly tense. He was pretty sure the former sheriff felt responsible for everyone in their group for some reason, even though he'd only just got there and didn't really know any of them that well. He was still in his sheriff-mindset, and they'd lost over half their group tonight. Rick probably felt like a huge failure right about now.

"How far ahead did you all get before you turned around and came back for us?" Daryl wondered.

"Not too far... But far enough so the people left back there wouldn't be in danger... I didn't want to leave them where walkers could reach them, you know?" Rick explained as his eyes met Daryl's.

"They can prolly take care of themselves, you know," Daryl reminded him, "if a swarm of zombies start walking up to the RV, they can drive off without you fuckin' telling 'em to."

Rick just sighed. It kind of bothered Daryl that Rick had a habit of ignoring him instead of responding to his comments. Daryl didn't say these things so that Rick could brush him off like he was an idiot who just needed to be ignored. He said them because he was right. Rick didn't have to constantly be hanging over everyone. They survived without him for a long time. In fact, more of their group had died since Rick's arrival a few days ago than had in the entire time they'd all spent together prior to the former sheriff showing up.

Daryl glanced over at Glenn. The kid's eyelids were drooping and he was almost falling onto Daryl's shoulder.

"We should all camp out in the cars tonight," Rick started explaining his plan, "and then in the morning we can drive around and find someplace that might be safe to stay for a while. There's got to be a secure abandoned house or something."

"Nothing's secure," Daryl frowned.

"Maybe not," Rick glanced over at him and then down at Glenn who was seemingly asleep, "we can find the closest thing to security that we can," he sounded like he was giving some sort of pep talk, "If nothing's secure, we can make it secure. We'll make something work, and when it stops working, we'll move on. There's a big world out there. Surely we can find a place in it."

Daryl sighed and looked down at Glenn when the boy's head fell gently against Daryl's shoulder. The boy was breathing much more steadily and calmly than he had been at any point prior in the night. Daryl didn't know why he was starting to feel like he cared about this kid. Maybe it was just because of the fact everyone had forgotten him in that brief but extremely important moment back at the camp. Until then, Daryl had felt like he was the odd one out in this group. But he was much more capable of taking care of himself than Glenn was. Daryl didn't need anyone to watch his back. Glenn did, and when he'd needed it most, no one had been there.

There was no doubt everyone in the group loved Glenn... Most of them anyway. With the exception of people who hated everyone, such as Carol's husband, Ed... But it seemed they didn't have to worry about him anymore, as his name wasn't among Rick's list of survivors. And of course Daryl himself couldn't claim to really like anyone in the group... But maybe Glenn wasn't so bad... Daryl wouldn't go so far as to say he liked him though. Everyone else seemed to love Glenn, but that wasn't enough to keep him alive. Out of all the people who treated him as a friend, none of them had bothered to check to make sure the kid wasn't turned into zombie fodder.

Daryl continued staring down at the sleeping young man resting against his arm and shoulder. He supposed surviving in this world depended greatly on who was watching your back. Daryl, luckily, was smart enough to not need anyone else... But a lot of these guys weren't so lucky. They all depended on each other. And since everyone would of course put their own family or boyfriends or girlfriends first on their list of priorities, if you weren't here with your family or partner, you were pretty much fucked in the event of a chaotic disaster like the one that happened tonight. In fact, if Merle had still been with the group, he and Daryl would have made sure to look out for each other first. They would have probably gotten out of there before anyone else. Merle's absence was probably a big reason why Glenn wasn't dead right now.

If anything like this happened again, maybe Daryl would just treat Glenn as his own. Daryl's actual brother was gone, so he had no one to really look out for anymore... He supposed he could give that space to Glenn for now, until they found Merle... Daryl needed someone to look out for, and Glenn needed someone to look out for him. In the end, they were both just providing each other with a service. It didn't mean Daryl really cared about the kid. Making sure Glenn didn't die would just be something to keep himself occupied, something to give a damn about so this world didn't drive him insane.

He looked up to see Rick was smiling at him. Daryl immediately frowned and pushed Glenn gently away so that he was leaning against Rick instead. The last thing he needed was for anyone to think he was growing soft... He had a reputation for hating everyone, especially immigrants. If word got around that he didn't really mind Glenn so much, they'd all assume they were his friends. And he didn't need any of that getting started.

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I tried to narrate this chapter and the next using more language Daryl would use, even though he's not the narrator... So when the story mentions "The Chinese guy" know that I'm not an idiot... I know Glenn's not Chinese... And when I swear here and there, that's all Daryl too... (Even though I do swear a lot in real life...) You'll also notice Glenn is referred to as a "kid" or "boy" since I'm trying to describe him more how Daryl sees him instead of how he sees himself. I don't typically like telling stories in first person, but I still want it to feel like you're seeing stuff through Daryl's eyes a little bit... I don't know if I'm making any sense...

I also wanted to portray Rick as the nice guy he used to be... I was pretty ashamed of him when he didn't go back for Andrea in the season 2 finale... I thought out of everyone, he'd be the one to speak up and go back for her... But I guess he assumed she was dead... Anyway, I hope you're still liking this. :) Please review, and stay tuned for the fourth and final chapter.

Sorry the story isn't going to be really very long... But I think this plot is more fitting as a sort of mini-story.

Remember, there is ONE CHAPTER LEFT! This kind of seems like the end, but it's not! Please come back in a little while to finish the story! I love you. ^_^

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