DISCLAIMER: I do not own any part of The Walking Dead or its characters. This is for entertainment purposes only.
NOTES: Finally have a Dixon brother reunion. Woohoo! I promise I'm going to try and stay in character as much as possible, bear with me! Thank you to all of you wonderful people who have reviewed, favorited, or are following this. It seriously makes me feel like a little giddy girl. I'm such a child. But seriously though, thank you! xoxo
Rick watched the brothers interact as he wasn't sure what to think of it. He knew that he would do anything and everything in his power to help Daryl, but he wasn't so sure that applied to Merle. He just didn't trust the man; not after Atlanta, not after beating T-Dog, not after beating Glenn, not after the crazed looks he shot at him and Maggie after carelessly stabbing the blade through a live man's skull. But right now he knew he had to trust Daryl's instincts. This was Daryl's brother and if anyone knew Merle, it was him. He figured that if Merle was a threat to them, Daryl would say so; he wouldn't let him or Maggie, or anyone else from their group, fall victim to his brother. At least, not again.
They didn't have time for a discussion seeing as they had to get out of Woodbury before someone found them. Rick led the way as he slowly poked his head out of the room to make sure the coast was clear. He nodded as he looked back at the three. He then focused his stare on Daryl, then to Maggie unnoticed, then back to Daryl. Daryl caught this and he nodded in return. It was Rick's nonverbal cue to tell Daryl to keep an eye on Maggie and make sure that she was safe at all costs.
Rick made his way down the hall towards the door that led out to the town. He slowly turned the handle and when he could only make out the sounds of angry voices still yelling and arguing, he knew they stood a chance. If they were angry, they most likely wouldn't be as focused. The brain could sometimes be a wonderful thing.
The four of them emerged through the door and Rick immediately opened fire on the nearest men before they could even pull the trigger. There were a few pops that sounded off from Maggie's pistol as Daryl and Merle stayed close behind them. Daryl had his crossbow readied at eye level just in case as they managed to make it down the middle of Woodbury with what seemed to be little effort.
Merle, Daryl, and Maggie all kept their eyes peeled for The Governor. Rick was fortunate, as he had yet to come face to face with the daunting man. He was nowhere in sight though as they continued to fire away at anyone who dared to raise a gun or stand in their way.
Whatever it was, they seemed to have scared them off into hiding. No other men tried to surface from out of the arena or surrounding buildings as they made a run for the wall. Rick climbed up first and helped Maggie over. Daryl shot a bolt at a man who had tried to sneak around the corner to take aim and nailed him in the forehead. Merle slapped him on the back hard enough to make him stumble forward, the smack so sudden and unexpected. It was his way of saying, 'good job'.
Daryl climbed over the wall after Maggie and Rick followed, leaving Merle to help himself. As soon as the four of them were on the other side of the wall, Merle made an excuse to open his mouth.
"Thanks fer the help there, Friendly," Merle spoke, the sarcasm dripping from his words.
"You are just fine on your own. Don't start shit with me," Rick spat, pointing a finger back at Merle's chest.
Merle opened his mouth to come back with another witty comment but Daryl put his hand up to silence them. "Good lord. If y'all don't shut up, I'm about to volunteer to knock yer teeth in…" Daryl held the back of his head where it had collided with the concrete floor earlier.
Merle bit his tongue and nodded, shooting Rick one last evil glare. But at that moment, it seemed as though everyone who was in hiding had come out to play. Gunfire rained down and around the four unexpectedly as they all ducked for cover and sprinted off. There was no time for a brief discussion, no plan of action, no time to check for bullet wounds. They were forced to split up as they ran into the woods, the men of Woodbury hot on their trails.
Glenn walked over to his cell and dug through his belongings until he found a clean shirt. He tossed it on and sighed as he stared down at the empty bed. He could only hope that Maggie was safe out there. He had wanted to stay with her but he knew he couldn't, not with the condition that he was in. She was tough and he was well aware of that. He remembered the first time he saw her, galloping through the woods on horseback and swooping Lori up to take her off to the farmhouse. At that moment, he never thought he'd really even talk to her, let alone become this close to her. He just had to remind himself that she was with Rick, and soon enough, she would be with Rick and Daryl. He knew if she was going to be safe with anyone, it would be those two.
Glenn walked back out into the open area of the cell block. It was still pretty dark, but just enough light to where he could see everyone's faces from a distance. He knew his face wasn't exactly a pretty sight as his right eye was bruised and swollen. Hershel had looked him over when he had first returned with Michonne and explained that he was lucky he was able to escape with nothing but bruises.
Hershel sat on the stairs that led up to the landing where Daryl had been staying. Beth stood close to him with Judith cradled in her arms while Carl was locking the door to their cell block. Carol walked over towards the Greene family and Glenn, forcing a smile. Axel stood against the wall with his arms crossed in front of his chest. Michonne kept her distance. After Glenn surveyed everyone, he felt like they were falling apart. That's when he realized they would be nothing without Rick and Daryl to help lead them. They couldn't afford to lose anyone else in the group.
"Door's secure. Nobody's getting in here," Carl confirmed as he joined them.
"Now, what exactly were you saying about this Woodbury place? Maggie is still there, why?" Hershel asked Glenn.
"Rick is afraid that this could all end, well… badly. He wanted me and Michonne to make it back here to let you guys know that we should prepare for the worse. Daryl was captured and Maggie wanted to stay with Rick to get him back. But I was thinking about it and really, she's safe with them. I mean—"
"I know, boy. I know," Hershel spoke softly, cutting Glenn off. He smiled at him.
"I wanted to kill that Governor guy so much… I still do," Glenn muttered.
Nobody said another word as there were only nods in agreement. Glenn thought it was best if he kept what really happened in Woodbury to himself. But maybe it was already obvious since he came back shirtless, having given Maggie his shirt to wear. He clenched his fists at his sides at the thought of it. She told him that nobody did anything to her though, and he knew that she wouldn't lie to him.
"Should we get the weapons and start preparing then?" Beth's voice was quiet as she spoke, snapping Glenn back to the reality of their sad, depleting cell block.
Just as Glenn was about to tell them it would probably be a good idea, he looked up and over at the door that Carl had just locked. There were four new people: two men, a younger looking man, and a woman.
"Whoa—who the hell are they?!" Glenn pointed his finger in their direction, his eyes wide.
Hershel, Carol, and Beth let out a small chuckle at Glenn's outburst. Carl stepped forward to explain. "I found them. They came in through the back of the prison. Tyreese, Allen, Ben, and Sasha. They lost one of their group when they got here. I let them in and gave them a few supplies." Carl paused, "I figured it's what my dad would have done."
"We're not interrupting anything, are we?" the man that Glenn guessed was Tyreese asked through the barred door.
"No, no. You're fine," Carol replied.
"Then what exactly are you preparing weapons for?" the other older man asked, Allen.
"We're about to have a war on our hands. You want to take a stand with us or do you want to take your chances out there?" Carl took a few steps closer to them as he spoke.
The four looked at each other, confused. "What exactly do you mean by 'war'?" Sasha questioned the kid.
Maggie's chest burned, her lungs felt like they were on fire. She ran as fast as her feet could carry her forward. All she could think about was getting back to the prison in one piece, seeing her father and sister, wrapping her arms around Glenn. She was glad that they were successful in freeing Daryl from Woodbury, but now they were all scattered throughout the woods running for their lives.
When the gunfire opened on them unexpectedly, they didn't have time to think. All they could do was run and unfortunately, they had gotten separated from each other. The thought crossed Maggie's mind: what if someone was captured again? What if someone was killed? What if she was the only one left?
Her thoughts were cut short as a vehicle had veered into her field of vision, cutting her off. She dug her feet into the ground to allow herself to stop as two men exited the vehicle in front of her. They had found her, and they were armed with heavy guns.
Her breath caught in her throat as she glanced down at her shaking hands. All she had was her little Walther P99 and a knife. Neither of them were an ideal weapon to have for multiple enemies. She heard footsteps from behind and quickly realized that she was cornered. There were two more guys who had closed in from behind her leaving her with nowhere to run.
She stared ahead at the man who seemed to step closer, a grin on his face. "I think the Governor will be pleased to have you back." He raised an eyebrow as his eyes traveled up and down her body slowly.
Maggie raised her pistol at the man but she heard distinct clicks from the three men surrounding her, telling her that they had their guns loaded and aimed. She bit her tongue before she slowly lowered her still shaking hands. She thought for sure that she was in the clear. She didn't really hear anything until these guys just seemed to come out of nowhere.
She watched the man in front of her, half way between the parked vehicle and herself. His grin quickly faded as a look of horror took over in seconds. Maggie felt like her stomach was up in her throat. Every fiber of her being was telling her to turn around, to see what this man was so afraid of. But she was too afraid to move.
And she didn't need to look. Seconds later, she heard a rustle in the leaves and gunfire rang out from right behind her. She quickly jumped to the ground and covered her head instinctually. She peaked her head up just enough to see the two men's bodies in front of her hit the ground, full of newly acquired bullet holes. When she could hear footsteps moving towards her, the leaves and twigs crunching growing louder, she decided to face her fear. She slowly got back to her feet as she turned to see the tall muscular man she least favored.
"C'mon, sweet cheeks. Ain't nobody ever taught ya how to fight?" Merle held one of the men's submachine guns in his left hand as he smiled down at her, his body towering hers.
"I can take care of myself," Maggie shot back at him. She wasn't sure why she suddenly felt so bitter. She wasn't sure if it was the nickname he had just given her or if it was because she was never going to forgive him for what he did to Glenn. But he had just saved her life.
"Yeah, it sure looked it. Grab one of them guns and git yer ass in gear. Ain't gon' do no harm with that toy o' yers," Merle nodded his head at her pistol. He walked forward and opened the driver's side door to the vehicle, glancing around.
Maggie kept an eye on him as she tucked her pistol into the back of her jeans, replaced her knife in its sheath, and picked up the gun that the man was carrying directly in front of her. She glanced back at the two men who were behind her. She noticed that Merle had taken the gun from the one to the right; he had crept up behind them and stabbed that bayonet attachment into his skull. That was what the man was so afraid of… Maggie didn't blame him.
"You think we could drive that back to the prison?" Maggie asked Merle as he stepped back and shut the door.
"Naw, it'd jus' draw more attention. Best ta jus' stay on foot," Merle looked at her and gave her a little smile. "I can see why the Asian likes ye. Feisty pair, the two of ya."
Maggie wasn't sure how to really interpret Merle. She wasn't sure if that was his way of trying to compliment her, or if he was just a creep when it came to women.
"Thanks for helping me," Maggie ignored him. She figured she at least owed him a thanks, though her voice didn't make it sound very sincere. It was a step closer to getting back to the prison safely. Since he had found her, they could at least stick together now. Someone having her back was better than no one, even if it was Merle Dixon.
"Don' git too warmed up ta me. Wouldn't want yer boyfriend ta git jealous," Merle winked at her as he chuckled, turning around to lead the way.
"Oh, this doesn't change anything, Dixon. Don't take my thanks as me warming up to you or you will be sorely let down," Maggie shook her head as she followed after him.
"Nothin' new there," Merle replied.
Daryl quickly realized that he wasn't too sure of his surroundings, other than the trees that he ran past and a few gun shots off in the distance. His head throbbed, affecting his vision and making him feel a bit dizzy and disoriented. He tried to shake it but that only made the pain worse.
A sudden wave of nausea hit him as he forced himself to stop running. He managed to prop his back up against a tree to try and catch his breath and recollect himself. With his migraine-like headache and the memories that kept flooding back to him subconsciously, he felt sick. As he stared down at his feet still breathing heavy he knew he had a concussion. His vision was out of whack and he just felt… different. But why did this come as a surprise to him? Slamming his head on the concrete floor wasn't exactly graceful, and that was probably what did him in.
He could hear the gunfire in the distance as he cursed under his breath. He still felt nauseous and his head was spinning, yet all he could think about was Merle. He tried to pick his brain apart, tried to figure out why being reunited with his brother was tearing away at him. He should be happy—he was happy. But that wasn't completely winning it over for him.
Daryl looked up to Merle all his life; it was all he had ever done. Even though he was never really there for him, even though he didn't share the same beliefs as him—the smoking, the drugs, the drinking—Merle was still his brother, his blood. But there were a few select times that Merle had his back, a few times that he had actually treated him like a brother and showed him love. That was good enough for Daryl. It was good enough because Merle was the only good family experience that he had, the only love that he had ever received. So, Daryl couldn't help but feel protective of him just as Merle felt protective of him. He could see it in Merle's eyes when they were in that arena, he could hear it in his voice when he practically pleaded the Governor to stop beating him.
When Daryl thought about it, he had become a lot like his brother, like his old man. He didn't know how to reciprocate love and he didn't know how to protect someone without turning to violence. He had beat Randall on Hershel's farm, tortured that kid like it was nothing. And for what? Was he really just trying to protect the group at the cost of Randall's pain, or had he actually enjoyed it? Every punch that had collided with that boy's face, every kick that smashed that boy's side… his very own knife digging into the wound on his leg just to get some answers.
Daryl stretched his arms out behind him and hugged onto the tree, his fingers digging into the bark. He felt sick, the wave of nausea getting worse the more he let his thoughts take over. He shut his eyes as he tried to take a few deep breaths and exhale slowly. Now was certainly not the time to take a walk down memory lane.
The familiar low, guttural growls seemed to help snap him out of it. Shit, he was not about to become walker bait. He forced himself off of the tree and readied his crossbow. He still had a bit of a gap before the two geeks closed in on him, plenty of time to dispatch them… had he been in the right state of mind.
He fired a bolt at what he thought was the walker's head but ended up missing it entirely, hitting the walker behind it in the shoulder. The walker let out a growl in response once the bolt pierced through it, still dragging its feet forward and towards its prey. Daryl quickly threw his crossbow over his shoulder as it hung loosely by his side, stumbling backwards.
Shit, shit, shit…
His head pounded uncontrollably as the geeks moved in closer. As he drew his hunting knife and crouched down ready to attack he wished his vision would clear up. He knew he wouldn't stand a chance if he kept running; he'd either trip or pass out at this rate. He tried to stab the nearest walker as he felt the knife make impact, but he quickly realized that the knife had only penetrated its cheek rather than its skull, cutting through the skin much easier than the usual jab. With his knife stuck in its cheek, the dead creature swung its gnarly rotted hands out, reaching for him and successfully grabbing him by his left arm and shoulder, taking him down.
"Shit—" Daryl hit the ground on his back hard. The motion once again sent his head spinning as he wrestled with the walker, trying to keep its mouth away. He placed one hand on its neck as he grabbed his knife with the other. All this time in Woodbury, it was like he had forgotten about the walking dead. He grimaced as its saliva ran from its mouth and just barely missed his face. He had to bite his tongue and swallow whatever was about to come back up at the putrid smell of the dead thing's breath as he turned his head away, it lunging forward as he pressed it back. He finally was able to pull the knife out and plunge it into the skull with a sickening crunch. Why the hell did he let himself get separated from the others? He knew something like this would happen.
One walker left.
The next walker lunged forward now, Daryl having just enough time to shove the twice dead geek's arm into its mouth to stop it. He rolled to the side, opposite of the walker, and got back to his feet at a steady pace. He knew if he jumped up too fast he'd just be sitting on his ass again. He breathed heavy as he was drenched in sweat. He felt disgusting. He tried to remain focused on the last remaining threat that he was aware of at the moment. It stumbled towards him with a few quick strides and threw its arms up. His vision started to play tricks with him again as he was seeing double, taking a few steps back unsure of which one was the real geek.
A shot rang out as Daryl flinched, immediately grabbing his head with his left hand and ducking down as he watched the blood from the walker's skull splatter and its body fall at his feet. His grip on his hunting knife was tight, his right hand slightly raised in defense. He glanced over to where he heard the gun shot ring out, his ears having never failed him when it came to directions. He stared back at his savior, quite baffled at the figure his eyes were locked on to.
Cliff hanger! Sorry, I'm such a booger. ;) Any guesses on who Daryl's savior is? Maybe it's a friend, maybe it's a foe. You never know…
