Enjoy!

"Click."

Glen freezes to the spot as Noah releases the safety of the gun. The barrel is pushed up flush against his skull and he knows that one false move by Daryl, Noah or himself and this will end very badly for him. Glen chances a quick glance at Daryl, but reads nothing in the hunter's expression that ups his odds any. He needs to focus. Maybe he can somehow talk his way out of this, if only he can manage a drop of saliva in which to form words.

The wind picks up and blows cool air against Glen's damp skin, causing goose-flesh to bump up on his arms, but he barely feels it. All he can think of is Maggie and the promise he made to her. That he would stay safe. That he would come home.

He can see her face shining bright in his minds eye as he invisions Maggie's brilliant smile that always seems to pull him from his darkest thoughts. He can almost feel her warmth wrapped around him now, and it gives him comfort and strength.

Glen's thoughts begin to drift to the night before, and he thinks on the love that the two of them shared as though it were a tangible object he could touch and hold close. He remembers how that love seemed to burst forth from his chest and spill out into the atmosphere, filling the space around them with a sudden urgency as he thrust into Maggie against the cold wall. It was in that moment that the earth stopped spinning. The floors and the walls around them vanished, and they were left floating in a world all their own. Their bodies gained momentum quickly and Glen knew that it wouldn't last long, but it didn't need too. Together they lost themselves in the same moment. He remembers the feel of it. The pulsing rhythm of their combined orgasm, and the sensation it left in its wake as wave after exquisite wave crashed against the next, pushing them along with it for a solid half hour. It was mind-blowing.

He remembers afterwards, how they lay in a limp and crumpled mass on the hard floor. A panting ball of interlinking limbs, hair, and sweat soaked skin. Neither of them had the strength to separate their connecting bodies and so they bared their souls to each other then, stretching them out before the other, naked in the truest sense of the word. Never in his life had Glen felt more safe.

Somewhere within the deepest recesses of his mind he hears Maggie's voice whispering to him now. "Come back to me you hear." The words start off quiet, but begin to resonate louder and louder as they push their way to the forefront of his brain. He can practically hear them in his ears, giving him the power and the courage he needs to survive. For the first time since Glen felt the gun push against his head, he starts to regain control over his thoughts. For the first time since he heard the click of the gun, Glen takes a deep breath of air and looks up.

Daryl stands approximately twenty paces away, and the mere sight of him sends chills coursing down Glen's spine. His legs are shoulder width apart, with his left leg slightly forward and bent at the knee. His narrow hips and upper torso face forward, evenly balanced with his shoulders and arms that support the weight of the crossbow so that it too matches the stance of his lower half. Every inch of the hunter's body is lined up perfectly. His core remains rigid, and the dirt smeared across his biceps only enhance the flexed muscles of his hulking arms. There is no doubt about it. Daryl is preparing himself for a fight.

The hunter's steel-blue eyes are narrowed slightly and beyond cold, giving nothing away as they lock onto Noah, watching... waiting for his moment when the kid screws up. It takes everything Daryl has to hold down the burning rage that brews beneath the surface of his skin. He needs to stay calm.

Glen notices the involuntary twitch of Daryl's eyebrow and the tension displayed over every prominent line of his features as the hunter stands facing them both, but looking only at Noah. Glen notes the raised vain that pulses on the side of Daryl's neck, and watches as his eyes zero in on their target, being ever so careful not to spook his prey.

"Archer, place the bow and the bag in the back of the car and then get in the front seat were I can keep an eye on you. Which one of you has the keys?"

Daryl continues to stare Noah down, but refuses to move or speak, and a trickle of sweat runs down the side of Glen's face as he waits to see how this thing plays out.

Noah holds his ground, speaking to Daryl once more, only this time it's taunting. "I asked you a question... boy, you best be answering it, or I will shoot the Asian dead." His words are tough, but Glen can feel the barrel shaking against his head.

Pissed off, but not willing to risk Glen's life, Daryl lowers his eyes to the ground as he tries to temper his rage. He is furious, and it takes evey ounce of his strength not to lunge at Noah consequences be damned. Glen doesn't think he's seen Daryl this angry since the day Rick told him they left Merle on the roof of that building.

Daryl clears his throat and in a guttural growl replies. "I got 'em."

"Good. That wasn't so hard was it? Bend down and slide them over, nice and slow."

Daryl does as requested, sliding the keys across the wet pavement, to which Noah stops with the heel of his boot. The hunter then begrudgingly walks over to the vehicle, not taking his eyes off the kid as he places the crossbow and medicine in the back seat. Suddenly Daryl feels something poke at his knee and he inwardly smiles, remembering the knife he picked up for Beth.

Daryl moves to open the passenger door, but before he lowers himself in the seat he juts his jaw forward, and with a casual southern drawl retorts, "Hey dickhead, he's Korean."

The cocky smirk on Daryl's face, along with his words cause Glen to smile too. No matter the dire circumstance, Daryl still has his back.

Noah roughly grabs Glen by the shoulder and turns him around to check for hidden weapons. Glen holds his arms up to make the unpleasent task easier on them both, and when he does Noah relieves him of his riffle, machete, and backpack which the kid callously throws to the ground and orders Glen to open. Noah is pleased with the contents.

"Look," Glen implores, "take the bags and the car. You can have it all, just let us go."

Noah ignores the request. He lifts the bag onto his shoulder and hands Glen the keys, using the end of the pointed gun as encouragement, before walking him over to the car. While Glen gets in the driver's seat, Noah gets in the back beside the bags and the bow. "You guys need to know this isn't personal. I don't want to do this. It's just how we survive. Now start the engine and let's go. My people are waiting."

Glen turns the key and begins to drive in the direction Noah indicates. "Thought you said your group was gone."

"Glen is it? You need to listen a little better... Glen. What I said was we scattered after the explosion." Agitation weaves its way through Noah's voice. "You think we could honestly go through what I told you we went through and remain so naive as to not put plans in place for if things went bad. You think we're that stupid, or that my brother Gareth would ever let that happen!"

Daryl patiently waits for Noah to finish his rant, and in an extremely even tone responds. "Of course not, but you said your people are starvin'. You've already got the weapons, the medicine. Why do you need us?"

Noah gives Daryl a jovial pat on the back and lets out an obnoxiously loud, gut busting, I just heard the funniest fuckin' joke on the planet kind of laugh. "We have our own particular tastes, and lets just say the two of you will do nicely."

With wide eyes, Glen looks to Daryl and then back to the road, barely able to wrap his brain around what he's just heard. The hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, and he feels a knot begin to tighten in his gut as he fights the urge to vomit. Can this actually be happening right now? "Cannibals! You're fucking cannibles!" As if being kidnapped wasn't bad enough, now he is driving the way to his own slaughter.

Daryl hangs back quietly in the seat next to him, and Glen wonders how his friend can remain so calm. All of the palpable anger he was exhibiting before is gone, and when he finally speaks it is just above a whisper. "Your group never took down the signs did they?"

"No... no we did not. After the claimers, rules were put in place like I said. A sort of code if you will. Never again. Never trust. Us first, always."

Daryl can't help the bitterness that seeps into his tone, but he has to keep the kid talking, at least long enough for him to alert Glen to his plan. "You lured innocent people into a trap, stole their shit, and you're tellin' me that after you did all that, you and yours ate the flesh from their bones. You sick fuck!"

Daryl sends a stern look to Noah, and as he does he lifts his hand up past his right leg so that Glen can catch sight of the knife. He spots the glint of light that reflects off the steel and gives Daryl a silent nod as a wave of relief washes over him.

Noah leans forward to rest his elbow on the back of the front seat, then brazenly tilts his head towards Daryl, all the while keeping the gun trained on Glen. "You make it sound so horrible, but look around. In this world it's either eat, or be eaten. You're either the butcher, or the cattle."

That was all Daryl needed to hear. Turning sharply to his left, he plunges the knife down deep into Noah's forearm. Fresh blood sprays the across Glen's face and shirt, and with it Noah pulls the trigger. Glen's world stops for the briefest of seconds until the sounds of the struggle alert him to the fact that the gun must have jammed. The hunter doesn't skip a beat as he continues on with the assault, reaching behind the kid's head and pulling his shirt up over it, while using the leverage it creates to propel Noah forward.

Glen recieves a stinging blow to his face when one of Noah's knees connects hard as Daryl catapults him into the front seat. A sudden flash of light and colour bursts before Glen's eyes, the blow forcing his head to loll to the side taking with it the car, swerving them sharply to the left, and causing Daryl to lose hold of the knife.

The momentum at which Daryl pulls Noah forward and the jarring motion of the car causes Noah's head to hit the dashboard with enough force to leave a substantial dent over the glovebox. It doesn't slow him down for long however, and both he and Daryl begin to struggle for the knife on the floor. Glen is left no choice but to drive. If he slams on the brakes he risks injuring Daryl as much as Noah.

The close confines of the car make it difficult for either person to gain the upper hand. Noah throws a punch that connects with Daryl's nose, but with little room for follow-through it only enrages the hunter further. Daryl then lunges at Noah with the weight of his entire body, thrusting both he and Glen into the driver's side door, and the car swerves again. Glen instinctively turns back hard on the wheel. His overcorrection flings Noah and Daryl back over to the passenger side, creating the opening Daryl's been waiting for. He grabs Noah's head in his hands and gives him one final push, bashing the kid head first into the CD player. A spark flashes as Daryl repeats the action once more, this time loosening the radio enough that it falls free from its confines and hangs there by only a few wires.

Once Noah is knocked un-conscious, Glen stops the car and helps Daryl push his body out onto the road, then fires a single bullet through his brain.

Glen sits there after that, huffing hard as he desperately struggles to catch his breath, turning the last ten minutes over in his brain. And the more he thinks about it, the angrier he becomes. "What the fuck was that? You could have killed me!"

"Least you forget, I just saved our asses. How 'bout some 'preciation!"

"Appreciation! Appreciation! He pulled the trigger Daryl."

"It didn't go off!"

"It could've!"

"But it didn't, so just calm down and relax. I gotta think."

"Huff, Huff, Huff, Huff"

As Glen's anger subsides he looks out to where Daryl is just staring at the dash. "Look man, sorry for yellin'."

Daryl shrugs, "s'alright. How are we going to fix this though?" He holds the dangling CD player in his hand and the a troubled look on his normally disgruntled features has Glen questioning, "Something bothering you man? I mean other than Hanniblal Lector back there."

"It's Beth."

Glen's eyebrows shoot up. That wasn't at all what he was expecting. "Beth?"

"Damn woman! Said she was really lookin' forward to listening to the music you know. Ever since Rick told her she could go on the next run it is all she's talked about. I told her she didn't have to wait, but you know Beth. She said we couldn't afford any unnecessary drain on the battery and that she could be patient."

"Sounds like our Beth alright. She'll get over it though."

Daryl shuts the glove box only to have it swing back open. In his frustration he lays the thing out with a solid punch, only exacerbating the problem. Now the damn thing doesn't shut at all and hangs at an odd angle. Daryl lowers his head and lets out a long deep sigh, paying little mind to the blood that is free-flowing from his knuckles. "It's only going to rub her nose in it."

"Daryl, I promise. When we tell them what happened she'll understand."

"No! Beth's been through too much already. No need for her to worry over what happened here. Just gotta think of something."

Glen knows there is no convincing him otherwise, so he tries another tactic. Time to offer a sage piece of good ol' Glen wisdom. "Not that you care about the girl or anything, but I do have an idea that might help."

"Yah, and what's that?"

"When Maggie is on me about something I don't want to share, I share something else instead. Personally I find offering her an endearing childhood memory usually does the trick."

"How the hell does that have anything to do with this?"

Glen can see he's going to have to break it down a little bit further. "You see, Maggie wants me to be honest with her. She's always going on about how I should open up to her more. So I share something personal and sweet and she is so happy that I am being open with her, it distracts her from the topic at hand."

A few beats pass, then Daryl speaks so low Glen has to strain to hear the words. "I don't have no endearing childhood memories."

Glen smiles and pats him on the back. "Oh, come on Daryl... you must have one."