Okay so maybe I was terrible with updating, but I'm sorry, I love you all. :3

Daryl and Arthur moved in mostly silence. The woods provided an iron curtain between them and whatever unseen dangers that may possibly be facing them. With the sun still peaking over the tops of the trees, Daryl estimated they had a couple of hours before it began to set. The only time a sound was made outside of Daryl's soft footfalls upon dry leaves and the sound of their breathing was when Arthur ran and tripped over a root, falling to his face and crying out in pain. Daryl sighed. Goddamn, this kid's pathetic. He probably shouldn't be thinking that way given how Merle thought about him his entire life, but he couldn't help it. There was something about being stuck with people who were inferior than you and who could get you killed that just made his head hurt.

With another sigh, he walked over and crouched in front of Arthur. "You alright?" he asked.

"Y-Yeah... I think so. Fuck, that hurt."

"Pick up your feet next time," the Dixon said as he stood up and then offered Arthur a hand. Once he was standing up again, Daryl pulled out his crossbow and proceeded back down the faded trail. The ground laid mostly undisturbed, leading him to believe that he and his companion were the first travelers to tread it in a long time. There were the occasional animal tracks off to the side, but there wasn't even any sign of walker activity. Imprints were few and far between as they crept away from the path into the depths of the woods. If they found any animal tracks, Daryl wasn't even sure he'd follow them. They still had plenty of deer to last them, but on the flip side of that there were now four people and not two. On top of that there was no telling how used to rationing the pair were and if they felt like being picky about what they ate The Dixons didn't know those people... they didn't want to either.

"Hey, Daryl, think she'll be okay with Merle?" Arthur asked all of a sudden, breaking the silence that Daryl had comfortably settled into.

The question made Daryl's grip in his crossbow tighten. What the fuck kind of question was that?! His eyes went dark as he turned to Arthur and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. He picked up the kid even though he was a little taller than Daryl and slammed him back against the tree. "What'd you just say?"

"D-D-do you think Gail is gonna be alright with Merle?"

"Don'chu ever say somethin' like that about my brother again, got it? He ain't no rapist."

"You'll have to forgive me if I doubt that."

Daryl removed him from the tree and threw him to the ground. "No, I don't." He walked away. That was the only solution. If he had any brains Arthur would be glad that he didn't kill him. Nobody got to say shit about Merle... He wasn't a rapist. He was an asshole who abused drugs and his brother and society in general, but even he had a moral line that he didn't cross. Daryl might not be treated right by Merle, but Merle was all he had and he would defend him if it was the last thing he would ever do. It was hard for him to go to the extent to say that he loved Merle, but Merle was blood. That counted for more than anything else, especially now that there was no other rule to live by.

He didn't care that Arthur had trouble picking himself back up. He also didn't care to see that the kid had eventually caught up with him ten minutes later. If he'd really wanted to ditch him then he would have, but Daryl thought his threat was enough for now. It just meant something bad would happen if he ever insinuated something like that again. But for now, there was that silence again. The only noises were that of Arthur as he panted and tried to calm his breathing down again. The campgrounds looked normal and relatively undisturbed. He supposed that's what came with being so far off the freeway and not having much as far as life anymore; if he were an animal he'd never go near a campground anyway.

Then he heard a twig snap that didn't come from him or Arthur. He spun around with the crossbow ready. He was scanning everywhere for a threat. He never found one. What he did find, was a small robin. Unfortunately, Arthur wasn't as calm about it as he was. The twig snapped again, louder this time, and Arthur heard it. He grabbed his gun and spun around, firing off a round in absolutely no conceivable direction. The sound of the shot echoed around the

"What the fuck're you doin'!?" Daryl shouted at him.

"A twig snapped!"

"You just told every goddamn walker we're here!"

"How was I supposed to know?"

"You fuckin' look! You got eyes, don't ya?"

Arthur huffed and opened his mouth to say something but was promptly silenced by a death glare from Daryl. He knew that he may have possibly overreacted. There were enough trees around them that the sound could have bounced around the entire wood. It didn't take a genius to realize that they had a shot. There were plenty of places to hide. He didn't trust it completely, but he knew better than to put himself in unnecessary danger. Daryl made sure to keep Arthur silent as he stood at the ready for five minutes; he had to make sure no walkers were in the area. Whatever had snapped the twig had gone away from them as opposed to towards them, and once Daryl determined that, he slowly lowered his weaponry and put them away with a nod.

"C'mon," Daryl said, waving Arthur on with him. The path was starting to run downwards, and Daryl knew that water ran downhill too. There was water around, and Daryl was going to find it. Maybe then Merle would have something nice to say for once in his goddamn life instead of the bullshit he usually spewed in Daryl's general direction. Speaking of his brother, Daryl wondered what he was doing with that girl back in the truck. He didn't think anything bad was happening, but she looked like the type who didn't lie down for nobody and that could cause some problems with Merle. "We'll see where this goes then go back to Merle."

"How do you know which way we're going?" Arthur asked, "How will you even know how to get back?"

"I been in the woods since I could walk," Daryl replied. That was all Arthur really needed to know, and frankly Daryl didn't want to tell him anymore. His past was his own and his alone. Merle was the only one alive who knew anything about Daryl's upbringing. He didn't know anything at all either. He wasn't around for most of it, and when he was he was boozed up or just preparing to run away. While Daryl had never admitted it out loud, he was glad that the zombie apocalypse had come and killed off most of the annoying people in the world, the ones who didn't know how to survive. That meant the people still alive were the ones who knew what they were doing, the ones who were willing to learn, and the lucky ones. He and Merle were the first category; Gail was the second; Arthur was the last. That was how Daryl looked at it. Hopefully for his sake the guy could learn a thing or two.

The grade of the ground had slowly decreased as the two men got lower. Daryl would periodically stop them and hush Arthur when he was breathing too hard and he was trying to hear something. They were getting closer; he could feel it. The trees were thinning out and the ground beneath their feet was getting softer. If that wasn't confirmation that he could start getting a little excited, Daryl didn't know what was. And, within a few minutes, his nervous energy turned into flat out joy as he saw blue and it wasn't sky. Fresh water was a sight for sore eyes, and boy did Daryl have more things sore than just his eyes. He turned and actually smiled at Arthur before he quickened his pace and headed straight towards the water.

He damn near fell to his knees at the sight of it, but he forced himself forward and jogged straight to the edge of the waterline. It looked clear, and it didn't have any dead bodies floating in it from what Daryl could see. Those were the only two things he was worried about. Some apocalypse this is, Daryl thought with a slight smirk as he kicked at the water with his boot. He and Merle might even get to do some fishing if the water had any in it. Now that they'd reached exactly where he'd wanted them to go, he didn't find himself too apprehensive to return. "We'll head back in a minute. Sit down. Your leg'll need it."

Arthur nodded and took a seat right on the dark sandy beach. The other male continued to stand watch while he rested. It was a nice area, one that he thought could become a semi-permanent location if everything was permitting. Life never really worked out for you if your last name was Dixon. Sometimes life decided to give you a break, and when it did that you had to take them when they came to you. This was one of those times. The only factor that had yet to be decided was Merle and his reaction; the zombies could be dealt with accordingly, but Merle couldn't be killed. The walkers and his brother happened to share one key thing in common, and it happened to be the trait Daryl most wished wasn't the case: they were both stubborn beyond all reason and refused to be reasoned with.

"Let's go."

The two men started off back up the incline towards the truck. They didn't want to leave Merle and Gail alone for too long. The walk back was a lot quicker than the walk there too. True to his word, Daryl got them back there without a hitch. There was a lone walker that they'd stumbled across, but Daryl took care of it quickly with his crossbow and got them moving on again. By the time they arrived, the sun had started to go down and it looked like they might not have any choice for sleeping except the truck. Now that it was in sight, Daryl picked up the pace from a jog to a run and went right up to the window of the driver's side. Merle rolled down the window and raised an eyebrow at him.

"Merle, guess what we found."