Show: The Walking Dead.
Name: Remember.
Pairing: Daryl/Rick.
Author: Noirian.

This is a work of fan-fiction. These characters do not belong to me and I do not benefit from this in any way other than having fun.
Enjoy and if there are any mistakes, just give me a shout-out so I can get right on it.

The road to Atlanta was packed and Daryl was stuck at the back of the line. Cars and trucks filled the lanes and only the honking of horns and murmur of worried voices could be heard. Daryl frowned as he looked around for Merle's motorbike amongst the people wandering everywhere, but the shadows from the sun seemed to cover everything in a thick black glaze. With a huff, Daryl glared at the crowd in front of him before he slipped out of his truck and slammed the door shut.

Daryl hated crowds. He hated the way they pushed and shoved, the way they kept on yelling for no reason and the way that there always seemed to be someone stepping on him! It was un-fucking-believable! Not to mention there was no sign of Merle, and knowing his brother, he had probably managed to con some hysterical woman into having sex with him.

It was times like these that the brown haired man absolutely hated his brother with fierce passion. But family was family, and Daryl was perfectly willing to tear apart this crowd to find him. Not that he could, he had only managed to make it five meters from his truck before he came across a solid wall of whining children.

Toddlers were sobbing and clutching their mother's legs, hands, arms; whatever limb they could get their grubby little hands on while the babies screamed their naked heads off. Daryl would rather shoot himself in the head with his crossbow than take care of a kid. All they did was scream, puke and shit. A stoned Merle did all of those things at once and Daryl hated cleaning that crap up. Why would a kid be any different? That's why when a screaming woman started to run towards him from the opposite direction with a shrieking baby in her arms, Daryl wasn't exactly jumping for joy at the sight.

"You've got to help!" she screeched as she grew closer to him. Daryl could see the wrinkles on her face and merely narrowed his pale blue eyes in response to her panic. "He's gone mad and is trying to eat my son!"

The lines connected instantly to the hunter as he realized the man must be like that woman from earlier; the one that had started to eat her own kids. She must have been insane to be able to do that and this man as well if he had attempted what the woman had just screamed. But no matter what, both of them still looked human and they would die all the same. Besides, there were kids here and while the hunter may despise the crap out of them, they were still just defenseless kids.

Daryl reached down and pulled out the small knife tucked away in his boot and flicked it open; this was the only weapon he had on himself due to his crossbow being safely stowed away in his truck. The woman had just run past him and was cowering with the crowd behind him. Daryl would have sneered at her if not for the man stumbling towards him. His face was a pale white, and his jaw was dislocated in a way that made Daryl's stomach churn. Cold lifeless eyes stared at him, never blinking as the man moved closer. It was almost mesmerizing if not for the horrifying hunger that lurked in that dead gaze.

The kids behind him were screaming and Daryl knew that they would have nightmares for weeks. If they survived all this shit.

Crouching slightly, Daryl moved his arm so the blade was facing the man before he started to slowly edge forward. The brown haired man took a deep breath between clenched teeth as he tried to settle his racing heart. He would not panic, if he panicked he would die and the thought terrified Daryl.

But death would not be his fate today. Daryl was adamant of that, or at least he hoped.

The hunter took one more deep breath before he darted forward, bringing his empty hand and slamming it into the man's chin with harsh force as he dug his fingers into the rotting flesh and pulled it up to reveal the man's throat. With a quick motion, Daryl had buried his knife into the throat of the man and released his grip.

The man had to be dead now. Nothing could survive once it no longer had the ability to breath. But the kids were still screaming.

The man gurgled for a moment as he swayed backwards before he lunged for Daryl, hands grabbing onto his shirt and easily ripping holes into it as he reached for his face. Panic rippled through Daryl as he was pushed over by the weight of the man and his head violently hit the tarmac. With pain blooming from the back of his skull and rapidly spreading through his mind, the hunter reached for the knife jammed in the man's throat while he tried to push away the arms that were itching to rip his skin open. But the knife refused to budge and those fingers were so close, too close to him, and by now Daryl's breathing had become stunted through his panic and the only thought that was going through his mind was that fact that he was going to die as a goddamn motherfucking virgin.

"What are you babies crying about?" Daryl heard someone slur far away and had to admit, that in that very small millisecond, he never been so fucking happy to hear his brother's voice in his life. "Darlena is that you?"

"Merle!" The brown haired man choked the name out as his brother's footstep seemed to take forever to walk over. "Jesus Christ stop taking your time!" he finally managed to yell, his accent distorting each word in his panic as that unnerving dislocated jaw came closer and closer to his skin.

"What did I say about you telling me what to do?" Merle's voice was suddenly loud near Daryl's ear as he easily grabbed the man's chin and pulled him up and away from his little brother. The hunter could only watch in shock as his still hung-over-brother ripped the knife from the man's throat and shoved it into his eye socket as if he had done it a million times beforehand. Then he simply tossed the body of the man to the side before it could crumple in his grasp.

"And what the fuck did I say about it being dangerous for us to split up." Daryl murmured as he rested his head on the tarmac and stared at the mix of orange, purple and blue that was the sun setting for what had been a very long day.

Daryl really couldn't give one fuck about the sky right now.

"Hey dummy." The hunter glanced over at Merle who was leisurely kicking the rotting corpse, but when his brother finally turned to look at him, Daryl could have smiled at the slight concern resting in those sharp blue eyes. "It's gotta be the brain; it's the only way to kill one of these bastards."

Thank-you for reading this chapter; I hope you enjoyed it. Also, thanks for all the reviews/follows/favourites.