Hey everyone! Hope you weren't too upset when Shannon got killed. I mean, there had to be some payback, right? And if someone had to die in that scene, she kind of deserved it. As for Rick, I added him getting shot in the arm after watching him banish Carol from the group in the show. That made me so upset!

Just a heads up for those of you who never read "The Green-Eyed Monster". Merle was still alive by the end of that story. It had been written during the hiatus of season 3 and Merle was very much alive at the time. Despite the fact that I did tweak a few things to account for the second half of season 3, I did not change that fact. This will make more sense when you read this chapter.

Chapter 7 – On the road to Peakesville

They drove through the night, taking the risk of being spotted by the headlights. It would take about four and a half hours to make it to the far northwest corner of Tennessee. That was where Josh told them the friendly settlement was located. Despite no contact with them, it was believed they would be willing to take their group of refuges in peacefully.

At first they were all jumpy, the kids practically bouncing out of their seats with nervousness. Daryl was thankful they didn't bombard him with questions he couldn't answer. He had no idea if everyone else made it out. He sincerely hoped they all had.

The other thing the children were excited about was the fact that they had never been further off the compound than hunting in the woods surrounding it. They had been too young to go on runs or even trading missions. Of course they'd read about different places in the world and seen pictures in the many books in the well-equipped library. There was also the occasional movie they'd get to watch in the media room in the basement when it was deemed alright to waste the power of the generator. Yet, there was no comparison to stepping outside those familiar walls for the first time in your life. When they'd driven into an area that had been more populated, their faces were glued to the windows, fascinated with strip malls, townhouses and tall office buildings.

Eventually, the adrenalin wore off. Carol pulled the car over, letting everyone relieve themselves. The guys were waiting for the women to finish up, always taking less time. Hunter watched wide-eyed as Daryl ripped out the arrows from his side of their car. He snapped them angrily in his hands, throwing the broken remains on the ground. They represented the loss of something that had taken years of hard work to build and perfect. Something that had been dear to him and provided protection for his family that had been lost.

Daryl couldn't help smirking a little when Hunter wrenched another arrow that he'd missed sticking out of the trunk. The boy repeated the motions of his father, breaking the shaft and hurling it to the ground. Then he stomped on it for good measure. Daryl nodded his head in approval when Hunter's eyes meet his own.

Carol and Amelia came around the back of the car then, pulling chicken jerky sticks out of the supplies in the trunk for them to munch on as they got back in. Daryl switched with her, taking over the driving while she settled in the passenger seat. It wasn't long before Amelia and Hunter were slumped over asleep. Carol was quiet, just staring out the window and watching as the scenery glided by. She clutched the map in her hands but Daryl knew most of the ride was a straight shot on the highway. When he hit backups of permanently stilled cars, he'd just drive around or on the median. There was the very rare walker that would always turn its attention on them but otherwise, the world around them was dead.

As he drove on autopilot, Daryl's mind began to wander back to the last attack they'd had to deal with. The Governor's revenge eight years ago.

Merle and Daryl were on watch duty that night with Daryl up on the balcony and Merle patrolling the ground. The moon had been full, giving off enough light to render the night-vision goggles unnecessary. Merle checked in with Daryl looking down from above him, saluting his brother with the sharp blade of his makeshift metal stump. Daryl simply flipped him his middle finger, eliciting a chuckle from Merle before he moved on around the perimeter of the wall. Their brand of brotherly love.

They had probably been watching the compound for days, observing routines and schedules of the daily running of the place. Once Merle was out of Daryl's eyesight around the side of the house, they came over the wall for him. Before he could comprehend what was happening, a rock slammed down on his head. He went down, to stunned to react for a moment. In that time span, a gag was harshly shoved into his mouth and he almost vomited from it hitting the back of his throat.

He was hauled to his knees by Shumpert, the muscular black guy. It was just the three of them, all looking somewhat worse for wear. Merle had no idea about where they'd been all these years but they had been engaged in an endless search for their revenge. Philip Blake was relentless in his pursuit of them, his psychosis taking over his functioning mind until all he thought about or dreamed about was killing them. Specifically Merle, Michonne and Rick. All the others would be a bonus for him but those three haunted him. It drove him into utter madness.

Shumpert followed the madman simply because he didn't have the will to do anything else. After watching everyone left in the world he might have cared about get gunned down after attacking the prison, he felt himself go dead inside. He was like a voodoo zombie, following orders with utter loyalty and without thought.

Martinez was different though. He tried once to escape twice and kill The Governor once. Shumpert, the now mindless henchman, had thwarted his plans each time. The first time he'd gotten a warning. After that he'd lost 3 toes and then 3 fingers. The one thing stopping him from suicide was that if Philip Blake finally got what he wanted in killing Merle and the prison group, he might finally be allowed to go free. Or perhaps they would just kill the bastard instead.

There were sparkly flashes obscuring his vision from the blow to his head, but Merle knew exactly who he was facing when the tall, one-eyed man stepped in front of him. He towered over Merle, his stance arrogant and in charge. All Merle wanted to do was wipe that self-satisfied smile off Philip's lips, preferably with his fists.

"Hello, Merle. Miss me?" Philip asked right before he kicked him savagely in the gut. Merle doubled over, his groan muffled by the gag. Philip grabbed his face hard, pushing Merle back up. "You think you could just betray me like that and get away with it?" His voice was low but dangerous. "That you could just leave with your brother, start a nice happy home here in middle-no-where Alabama and that I'd never find you?"

Merle looked into his eyes, the eyes of a crazy man. He so wanted to answer back, to tell Philip what an egomaniacal asshole he was. The man had paradise at Woodbury, standing strong during the goddamned zombie apocalypse, but his power-hungry whims and violence fucked it all up. Unable to speak, he simply narrowed his eyes, trying to convey all the hate he held for this man.

The knife flashed in the moonlight as Philip slowly pulled it out of the sheath on his belt. Merle watched with disgust as he licked the blade with his tongue. Knowing what was coming, he started to struggle. He actually achieved shoving Martinez off his one side but there was no way to dislodge the iron grip of Shumpert on the other side. Grunting into the gag, Merle lashed out against the restraint, fighting the inevitable outcome of the situation.

"Consider this payback," he stated with a snarl as he shoved the knife straight into Merle's gut. He pulled it back and slid it between Merle's ribs of his left chest. The Governor finished him off by dragging the knife across Merle's throat. He went deep enough to nick a jugular but not the carotid arteries. Merle would bleed out but not quite as fast this way. Philip wanted his suffering to last as long as possible without compromising the destruction of the rest of their targets.

"Don't worry. I'll be sending your baby brother and all his friends here right to hell after you. You won't get lonely," Philip said menacingly as he threw Merle's dying body to the dirt and kicked him in the back as he sauntered off. Shumpert and Martinez trailed behind him. Merle could have sworn he saw Martinez throw him a look of pity back over his shoulder.

On sheer willpower alone, Merle dragged his dying body around the wall. His life's blood was pouring out of him but he was aware enough to know that he was not going to let that motherfucker win. He had to alert his brother and save everyone else. With the very last of his strength and unable to speak with the gag in his mouth and his throat slashed, Merle slammed his metal stump against the wall.

Daryl was whittling new bolts for his crossbow up on the balcony, often scanning the surround area for anything out of the ordinary. He'd been too far away to hear any of the commotion on the other side of the house. The banging noise coming from below instantly caught his attention. It took a split second to process what he was seeing: his brother was covered in blood, slumped on the ground against the wall.

Panic drove his actions then. Scooping up the crossbow was almost pure instinct for him as he ran through the door back into the house. "Rick! Rick!" he screamed over and over again as he banged on doors along the second floor hallway. He didn't stop moving, needing to get down to his fallen brother.

Rick came running around the corner, obviously just awakened from sleep. He was in a thin white T-shirt, sweat pants and had slipped some moccasins on his feet. His gun was out, the safety off but pointed to the ground. "Daryl!" he shouted as the younger redneck hustled down the stairs.

Daryl didn't even pause. "Merle's down! He's bleedin'!" His hand reached out for the knob of the front door when a high pitched scream echoed through the night. It was coming from the back of the house. That gave Daryl pause. The only person out back was Michonne, taken to sleeping in a tent behind the house during the warmer months. If the normally stoic woman was screaming then something was very, very wrong back there.

Rick motioned him forward. "Go to Merle!" Then he whirled around towards the back door. Both Glenn and Tyreese appeared at the top of the stairs, still in their night clothes but armed with long knives. Glenn backed up Daryl while Tyreese went after Rick.

Once he burst through the back door, Rick raised his weapon as he took in the scene in front of him. Michonne's tent had been torn to shreds. Shumpert and Martinez were holding her down as she thrashed against the ground. The Governor kneeled beside her, his knife out. Michonne's face was a bloody mess. It was obvious what he'd done. He'd taken an eye for an eye. As if rubbing salt in her wound, he showed her her own severed eyeball punctured on the tip of his blade. He was laughing at her, a cold fanatical laugh as she fought hopelessly against them.

Rick wasted no time. He aimed for the Governor's head but Shumpert spotted him before he could readjust and took the bullet instead. The large man's body collapsed on top of Philip, pinning him down. Martinez abandoned his post, running around the house. Tyreese went after him in a rage.

In that instant, Max came out the side door just in front of Martinez. He collided hard with the older man, shoving him backwards into the chicken coop. Max screamed out in pain as his foot caught in the wire and bone could be heard snapping in his leg.

Martinez went for the wall but not before Tyreese rammed his knife into his back. It hit the heart directly and Tyreese was almost sure the expression on Martinez's face was one of thankfulness before his eyes became unseeing. Tyreese jammed the knife through the dead man's skull, making sure he wouldn't be back to cause more havoc. Then he went to help Max.

Back at the tent, Michonne rolled away from the Governor even as he was struggling to get free from the confines of the huge dead body pinning him down. She snatched up her sword, hidden on the other side of the air mattress she'd been sleeping on. Rick stopped short in front of the Governor, his gun trained on the man's forehead and about to pull the trigger.

"Wait!" Michonne yelled at him. Rick could see how the knife had cut down from her forehead, through the eye and down her cheek. Blood was leaking out, dripping off her jaw but she didn't seem to notice. "He's mine," she stated simply. Rick nodded and uncocked his gun.

Philip Blake began to laugh again. This time it was louder, great peels of laughter as she towered over him. He had stopped trying to escape. Tears leaked out of his one good eye as the crazy laughing continued. It was like a big joke to him.

"I want you to know that this is for Andrea and all those other people you murdered, you psycho bastard!" Michonne slid the sword out of the scabbard, throwing the cover to the side and wrapping both hands around the handle.

Philip laughed even more. "Andrea! That woman was a real shitty lay," he mocked her.

With a growl, she plunged the sword down through his good eye. The laughter cut off abruptly. Michonne then released the sword, still standing straight up from Philip's head, and collapsed in a faint. Rick ran to her side. Hefting her up in his arms, he started carrying her to the house.

Around the front of the house, Daryl was trying desperately to stop Merle's bleeding. Glenn had his shirt off, putting pressure on the wounds in the chest and the abdomen while Daryl held his red rag to Merle's neck. He'd pulled the gag out of Merle's mouth but he could already here his brother's breathing failing as his skin turned ghostly white.

Daryl was crying. It was involuntary, the tears just leaking out of his eyes beyond his control. He knew he was fighting a losing battle but he was going to fight it anyway. Merle had been a lot of things to him during his life. He'd been his playmate when he'd been very young. He'd been his protector after his mama died. He'd been his tormentor when he'd been high on drugs and Daryl had been a withdrawn teenager. He'd been his burden when Merle was so strung out Daryl had to support both of them. Recently, he'd actually become his brother, there to help Daryl with the twins and actually take the responsibility of helping with the household. It was too cruel for fate to snatch him away now, just when he'd become the man Daryl always hoped he'd be.

"The Governor's dead!" Maggie shouted as she came out of the house. Daryl ignored her, his full attention on Merle, but he knew it had to have been him who did this.

Merle's lips moved and Daryl knew he was trying to say something. He leaned down, his ear to his brother's mouth. "Stop bein' such a pussy," Merle whispered out. Blood came out of his mouth along with the words.

Daryl couldn't help but giggle, which sounded a bit hysterical. It was just like Merle to say something like that as his dying words. "Merle, don't die," Daryl pleaded with him.

"Gotta go, little brother. Ya take care of them twins and yer woman. Don't be an asshole ta them like our daddy was ta us. Gonna meet that motherfucking Governor down in hell and kick his ass." With that, the light faded from Merle's eyes and all his muscles relaxed. His fight was over.

"Daryl."

The voice snapped him awake. He whipped his head around, confused about where he was for a few moments. Then he remembered exactly where he was and what had happened. Carol sat next to him, her fingers curled around his forearm. Amelia was watching him from the back seat, her eyes concerned. Hunter was still sleeping.

At some point during the night, he must have pulled over and fallen asleep. He didn't remember doing it, he was that far into the memory of that horrible night. Now the sun was coming over the horizon. It was time to get moving again.

"Merle?" Carol asked. Daryl rubbed his hand over his weary face and nodded. Carol gave him a little reassuring smile. "That man died a hero. We'll never forget that."

Amelia chimed in, "Uncle Merle saved us all from that evil man." Daryl nodded, smiled at her in the rearview mirror and shifted the car into drive.