A/N: Sorry this one took so long! I honestly struggled with it for a bit. But … I think it turned out OK, and hopefully lives up to your expectations! To make up for the wait, I made this one a smidgeon longer … and you may finally get a hint at what's to come! ;-} Brace yourself!

**Thanks to all my wonderful reviewers … you are the bomb-diggity *HUGS*

Daryl's mind shifted into survival mode. He needed to concentrate on finding Merle and saving his life, if he wasn't dead already. Merle was made of piss and vinegar, sure … but not steel.

Thankfully, Daryl had been blessed with killer instincts and an ability to follow said instincts, unmatched by anyone besides his brother. He spoke out loud, to no one in particular. "He musta used a tourniquet … there'd be much more blood if he didn't"

Adrenaline pumping through his veins, Daryl cautiously followed the trail across the rooftop, and down into the department store; Rick, Glenn, and T-Dog in silent pursuit. Here, the group came to discover a few things about Merle. Number one, he cauterized his wound with a hot iron. Number two, he managed to kill two walkers with only one hand. Number three, he left the building and was no where to be found. Daryl was once again reminded that Merle could take just about any punishment he got.

The decision was made to get the bag of guns first, and then scout around for Merle. Daryl wasn't completely happy with this, but knew the guns would be a big help if they needed to roam around Atlanta. Little did any of them know just how fucked up things were going to become.

In a matter of minutes, some crazy Mexicans were pummeling Daryl with a baseball bat, kidnapping Glenn, and stealing the weapons and ammo! Much to Daryl's delight, he managed to shoot one of the little bastards in the ass, but as he struggled to reload the crossbow, the only thing he could hear was Glenn screaming for help.

"Daryl! Daryl!"

By the time he got up, their getaway car had sped off down the road and walkers were closing in from all directions. Quickly Daryl closed the gate, saving himself momentarily. He turned back to see Rick and T-Dog heading up the alley. Rick arrived just in time to keep Daryl from attacking the young vato that had snuck up on him in the first place.

"I'm gonna stomp yer ass!" he screamed as Rick shoved him backwards. Daryl was utterly pissed. The sneaky little bastard did nothing but make noise, which of course attracted the undead, and allowed his buddies to take off without him. Daryl thought it served him right.

'They took Glenn!" he yelled to Rick and T-Dog, who looked downright lost … they had no idea what all had just happened. The walkers were gaining ground quickly, so T-Dog grabbed the teenager and the three of them headed back to the relative safety of the department store once again.

As Daryl paced back and forth, he struggled with the thought of rescuing Glenn and why Rick was so adamant about it. He liked the kid too, but it just seemed like too big of a risk, and Daryl was still concerned about finding his wounded brother. They got the guns … what more did they need? Was it worth their own lives to go back? His head was spinning and still coming down off the adrenaline rush. He managed to scare the shit out of the young man, Miguel by throwing Merle's hand at him. He wanted this puke to know exactly what he was dealing with.

Eventually, Daryl was able to calm himself down and steady his breathing, and his thoughts turned to Glenn, or rather, Glenn's voice. He couldn't get it out of his head. He kept hearing his name over and over again … he kept seeing Glenn's face pleading for Daryl's help. Maybe that was what drove him to go back. Maybe he thought saving Glenn would make up for being too late to save his brother.

For a moment, Daryl pictured the screams for help coming from Merle on the rooftop. The image sent a chill down his spine. Fuck.

Daryl felt his stomach turn as he thought of his own predicament. At least he and Merle had each other … until now anyways. Glenn didn't have anyone else, only the people at the camp. He had put himself directly in danger's ugly path for complete strangers, without evening hesitating. Glenn risked his own life, dodging the dead only to get kidnapped by the living! Irony aside, it just wasn't right. If they didn't save him ... then who would?

It was obvious that Merle wasn't going down without one hell of a fight, so Daryl tried to re-assure himself that Merle would be just fine. Hell, Merle probably had a better chance surviving alone and injured, than Glenn did with those gang-bangers. They just needed to get this over with. The quicker they rescued Glenn, the quicker he could get back to camp, the quicker he could talk to Merle.

The three men and their fortuitous hostage headed out to make the trade, however the meeting didn't go as well as planned. The leader, Guillermo, made it clear that he didn't want to trade unless the guns were a part of the package.

Daryl chuckled to himself at the thought that the kid wasn't worth as much as he pretended to be.

The small-statured Mexican was smart though, and as he whistled, the others pushed a very nervous Glenn to the edge of their own roof. He wasn't fucking around. Daryl's pulse began to quicken, as he felt the situation getting worse by the minute.

Is this what they call a Mexican standoff?

Keeping his head in the game, he began to glance around for any signs of weakness. Anything they might be able to use to their advantage, if the need arose. He sized up a few of the men, and decided that if the shit hit the fan, he would take down the one he shot in the ass first. Kill the weakest.

Rick and Guillermo continued to talk, while Daryl was taking mental notes. He even asked about Merle but the only response he got was, "we're fresh outta white boys". Fuckin' prick.

They were lucky they hadn't found Merle. Daryl was positive there would be a few less spics standing in front of him, if they had.

The sheriff finished bargaining with Guillermo and Miguel was stuck with his new pals for a little longer. As they slowly retreated, Daryl stole a glance upwards at Glenn. The poor kid looked scared shitless. Daryl shifted uncomfortably knowing damn well they might not be able to save him.

"What'll it be stranger?"

"Beer and a shot … SoCo" Daryl replied coldly, without even looking up.

"Huh … some things never change … do they Dixon?"

Her words sounded sweet like homegrown honey. Daryl turned to see a young woman giving him an innocent smile, something he really wasn't used to. She had a tiny diamond stud in her nose. Her chestnut hair was pulled up into a loose knot, and the faded reddish streaks made her eyes sparkle. Pale blue eyes, that held a hint of something familiar.

Daryl's face had hardly changed expression, not having the faintest idea who she was.

"What's the matter, you don't recognize me without chocolate on my face?" she smirked and turned to grab beer from the fogged up coolers against the back of the bar. As she spun a bottle of Southern Comfort around her tiny palm, she slammed two clean shot glasses onto the old wooden bar … and that's when it hit him.

"Sara? … I'll be damned" was all he could manage.

He must have looked as shocked as he felt.

She let out a small huff … "Nice to see you, too Daryl". She poured the shot for him and one for herself. Their glasses clanked together as they whiskey was tossed back, and she leaned in close, "…on the house" she whispered, giving him a quick wink.

"That brother o' yers still around?" she asked.

Daryl really didn't feel like talking about Merle, especially after the fight they had last night.

"Yep"

Sara snickered. "Still an asshole, too?"

Daryl chuckled once."Yep"

She left the conversation at that, and continued down the bar to serve the other patrons, leaving Daryl to his thoughts.

He watched her closely for the next few minutes, noticing how much she had grown up. Christ, the last time he saw her she was barely old enough to drive. Once he got a good look at her face, he wondered why on earth he hadn't recognized her in the first place. Her face was astonishingly similar to the once-chubby one he knew so well from his childhood. She had grown into a beautiful woman, although tension seemed to seep from her body, as if she held on to some constant worry. He could relate.

He took another swig of his beer and tried to think of something to say to her … but he wasn't sure where to start. So … instead, he just kept his eyes on the TV in the corner, not really paying attention to whatever was flickering across the screen.

Not even three full minutes had passed when there was a loud BANG at the front door. Daryl gave a slight glance over his shoulder as he heard some heavy breathing.

"Dixon!"

No answer.

"Daryl! … You better git out here … it's yer brother!"

"Fine" Daryl muttered from the inside of his half-empty beer mug. He swallowed the rest in one giant gulp, and threw a ten dollar bill on the bar.

He looked up at Sara, whose wide eyes were starring at him, puzzled.

"Don't worry … I'll git 'em home before he starts any shit. Keep the change"

Daryl walked towards the door, but her voice stopped him, "Thanks"

He paused to look up at her, and noticed a slight blush on her cheeks.

"Don't be a stranger." she said, flashing a smile.

Daryl just nodded and headed out to see what kind of bullshit Merle had gotten into this time.

Reality kicked Daryl in the stomach, once again. He was back in the department store, trying to plan their next move.

"What life I have, I owe to him" Rick said solemnly.

"You just gonna give the guns back?" questioned Daryl.

"I didn't say that" Rick replied.

Daryl's eyes met Rick's and in that moment … he knew Rick wasn't going anywhere without Glenn. Daryl gave him a quick nod of approval and began loading his weapons.

Daryl wasn't sure exactly why he needed to go back for Glenn. He just did. He knew it was risky. He knew they could all end up dead. Wouldn't that be some shit? Surviving the apocalypse … just to end up being shot by some fuckin' homies! Jesus Christ, what was he thinking? They were clearly out-numbered and even if they were able to sneak up on the place, there was only one way in and the men would surely have more than a few guns guarding it.

As they all headed back to Guillermo's place, a vision of a tiny woman flashed through Daryl's mind. He shook it off, telling himself this wasn't the time or place. If he could just get through this, there would be plenty of time to think about her … about all of it. About the truth he was dying to know.

Daryl wiped the sweat from his brow and slid his hand down the side of his leg, wiping the moisture onto his pants. He took a deep breath as they approached the enemy's stronghold.

This is it. Do or fucking die.