DISCLAIMER: I do not own AMC's and Robert Kirkman's "The Walking Dead" or any of its characters/places. There may be a few OCs at a later time and those will be mine.

WARNINGS: Rated T for language, violence, and gore. Comic spoilers later on but you'll be warned about those specifically before they happen.

A/N: Sorry for the horrid hour at which this is posted and for not updating sooner. Still not feeling the best but I appreciate all y'all and hearing back from you is really the highlight of my day. My next update will be more timely. Thank you so much! And a shout out to PandamoniumPress who I forgot to thank for their review!

"Look, I already told you: They stayed behind, they didn't get left behind."

Tyreese had to suppress a prison riot when he showed up alone on Daryl's bike. Everyone but Carl had jumped to the worst conclusion—that'd they just lost their most valuable players in one fell swoop.

"I just don't understand…"

Tyreese hung his head.

"Carol, they're fine—all of them. They're holed up in this store. They've got some food and water and there aren't any walkers. They'll be back in the morning," said Tyreese.

"How'd you say the car stalled out?" asked Hershel.

Shit, thought Tyreese. He hadn't really worked that part of the story out.

"Uh dead battery?" The vet's eyes narrowed. "Dead battery," said Tyreese more assuredly. "We tried to jump it but no luck. We picked through some of the cars there but those didn't work either. It was getting dark so Rick suggested I come back."

"Daryl really just let you ride off on Merle's bike like that?" asked Beth.

Why wouldn't they believe him? Was he that bad of a liar?

"Well he wasn't happy about it but Rick wanted him to stay. Like I said: They're fine," finished Tyreese proudly.

"Ok," said Hershel. "I think we've all had enough excitement over this. We should call it a night."

The group around Tyreese began to dissipate and headed back to their cells. It had been a tense hour, to say the least. Carl was the only one to be taking the news surprisingly well. He didn't say much but took off to one of the guard towers to start the night's watches.

Tyreese turned at hearing the clicks from Hershel's crutches as he drew closer. That old man had been hard to fool.

"You know Tyreese, it's been a long day and I don't think you've had anything to eat. There's still some dinner set out, why don't we get you something?" said Hershel. The pair wandered through the prison block until they came to their cafeteria area. Hershel sat at one of the tables and motioned for Tyreese to join him.

Hershel cast a glance around the room before speaking. "Now Tyreese, I've been around enough horse manure to know when something stinks…and son, that's a lot of manure you brought in with you tonight."

"No Hershel, everything is fine."

Hershel sighed. "I don't think you understand Tyreese. That's my future son-in-law out there, Rick saved my life, and Michonne and Daryl were instrumental in rescuing my daughter from Woodbury. Why don't you take a minute before telling me that everything is fine once more."

This time Tyreese was the one checking to make sure they were alone. "Ok look…" Hershel's face remained expressionless as Tyreese filled him in on the events of the day. He didn't bat an eyelash when he was told how Bill cut Daryl's neck and then ended up being the one to save him. "….Rick didn't want to stay but Bill said that Daryl couldn't be moved until tomorrow."

Hershel frowned. "Was Daryl awake when you left?"

"Yeah…he said he'd kill me if I crashed his bike," laughed Tyreese. "He'll be…fine."

"That's the problem," said Hershel as he gathered his crutches under him. "Daryl can be moved if he is awake and coherent. Bill doesn't want them going anywhere."

The blood drained from Tyreese's face leaving him unnaturally pale. "You, you think this is some sort of set-up? It's only the one guy and he gave us our weapons back. Rick isn't going to drop his guard around him. Should we get a group together and go back?"

"Who would you send back? Seems to me like everyone we'd send is already there," said Hershel gravely. "We can't risk it."

The prison fell into an eerie state lacking its main guardians. It didn't feel right without Michonne and Daryl's watchful eyes or Rick and Glenn's guns. Some from Woodbury whispered that they would be safer taking refuge back in their former town. Little Judith was also not at ease. She cried inconsolably even when Carol tried to lay her down on Daryl's cot thinking that might comfort her. By midnight, Tyreese was fed up with the cries and hushed complaints. He slipped away to the guard tower to relieve Carl from his shift.

He found the boy checking out the tree line through the scope on his rifle. Rick wouldn't let him touch the larger guns but Rick wasn't around tonight noted Tyreese.

A dim flicker of lightning caught Tyreese's attention. "Looks like it might rain tonight," he said to break the ice.

Carl sniffed.

"Your dad's going to be ok," said Tyreese as he moved closer to the boy. "That's a strong group: They can take care of themselves."

"I hope the Governor attacks us tonight," said Carl suddenly.

Tyreese grabbed Carl's gun and yanked it away. "Why would you say that?"

Carl made a grab for the gun but Tyreese backed up. "Because I'm the only one that will kill him! None of them will do it! They've all had the chance to kill him and they didn't. I want to kill him."

"Carl, you're not ready for that," said Tyreese. "That's some pretty heavy stuff."

"I've done it before—killed someone," Carl said without remorse. "I killed that kid from Woodbury. I shot my mom…I'll kill the Governor. I'm ready for it."

"Look um Carl….maybe you should go back inside the prison. Judith has been crying all night and maybe you'll be able to get her to stop."

"I don't have to," said Carl. "Rick—my dad—put me in charge."

"Carl—"

"Go back to the prison Tyreese," said Carl as he reclaimed the rifle from the stunned man. "I'm on watch tonight."

Daryl exceeded everyone's expectations by not killing Bill when he had come forward with a new bandage for his neck. Granted Rick kept his crossbow on his back just for that reason. He even accepted a new shirt since his was soaked in blood. Daryl offered no resistance to Bill while he redressed the wound. Bill causally explained how he really didn't want to hurt Daryl but he was just too intimidating to be dealt with conscious. He went on about how he was an army medic when the world fell apart and that he'd been at the camp from the beginning. Bill retold the story of the day he got sick and his unit went out to help one of the neighboring towns that were being overrun with walkers. He alone had stayed behind and that's how it'd been ever since. He'd had a few close calls with other groups that wanted his supply pile but not necessarily him. He apologized again for his somewhat crude escape attempt and would've been truly sorry had it cost Daryl his life.

Daryl, however, didn't buy it as quickly as the others. He scrutinized every word, muscle twitch, and blink from Bill. Unfortunately he thought Rick looked content enough to stay the night. He wasn't in a rush to question Rick's judgment when it'd kept them all alive for this long.

"So Daryl," said Bill after securing the new bandage, "what do you say we forgive and we forget this whole thing, huh?"

"I would 'cept I ain't Jesus and I don't have amnesia," said Daryl. "If yer done ya can go."

"Alright," said Bill as he stood, "I'll be around if you need anything. I've never had a walker within the perimeter. You'll be safe here," he assured Rick.

As Bill left, Daryl propped himself up on the cot with a few pillows. Rick, Glenn, and Michonne sat on the cot next to him.

"Daryl," sighed Rick, "I think it goes without saying that you've got to stop this lone wolf shit."

Daryl groaned and leaned back farther into the pillows. He brought one arm up to cover his eyes. "Ah, ya gotta be kiddin' me!" He should have been able to smell this intervention when it walked in the room.

Rick reached over and pulled his arm down. "I'm not Daryl; you've been really reckless. First the stuff back in Woodbury, now this. Do you know what happens when a wolf gets too far from its pack…It dies."

Daryl bristled. "Yeah, and where the hell is our pack? Asleep in the prison."

"That's different," said Glenn.

"No it ain't. That's where we belong."

"Daryl you could have died today," said Michonne.

"Hell I coulda died yesterday, and the day 'fore that. Any of us could. Not doin' ourselves or the prison any favors just sittin' here."

Rick's head fell into his hands. Daryl was putting up a pretty good argument despite having been knocked out and lost a fair amount of blood. "Daryl, all I'm saying is that the next time you think about taking off on your own, don't."

"Bullshit on this!" cried Daryl as he flung his legs over the side of the cot. The sudden movement made his head spin, but he ignored it. Before Rick or the others could protest, Daryl was on his feet. Now that he was vertical, his thin blood couldn't get enough oxygen to his brain and Daryl's vision went dark. Rick saw the vacant look in his eyes and grabbed Daryl as he stumbled forward.

"Damn it Daryl" he scolded as he tried to coax the hunter back onto the cot.

"Lemme go," hissed Daryl. He tried shaking Rick off him but if anything the man drew closer. "I gotta take a piss."

"And then?" prompted Michonne with a raised brow.

"I shake it off an come back in!"

Rick released Daryl as it seemed like he was finally getting his feet under him. "I'll come with you," he offered.

Daryl scoffed at Rick's proposal. "Like hell ya will…Not goin' out unless I got my crossbow though," he said with a weak grab at weapon on Rick's back. Rick turned and took a step away.

"Naw, I think it's best that it stay here with me…" he said and patted the shoulder strap. "There aren't many walkers. You'll be fine with just your knife."

Well if that wasn't the most intelligent thing Rick had done all day, thought Daryl dryly. He gave his bow one long look, decided he wasn't near enough in the right shape to take on Rick, and staggered onward. He made it another four steps and then the darkness started to creep into the corner of his vision. He reached blindly and found a wall and used it to guide him to a back exit of the building.

Daryl groaned as he took care of business.

Everything Bill had said tasted like a lie and the others ate it up like it was an apple pie.

"I can't be moved? I'm not stable enough?" Daryl thought he was doing pretty good, all things considered. He was even mildly appreciative of the new headache Bill had given him. His neck stung something fierce but it didn't matter—just going to be one more scar. Carol was going to give him shit about it that was for damn sure. He already figured he'd say he attempted following Glenn under some wire and got caught. Maybe he would try that 'lone wolf' thing again. They had more heads around now; less likely to miss his.

Daryl was brought back to the camp by crackling of thunder to the north. Now they really were stuck if bad weather was moving in. They couldn't risk getting caught out in a storm. He watched the lightning shoot between the clouds and the rumbles that followed. Somehow it reminded him of his brother. Thunder and lightning. Both parts of the same storm but never really fit together. Always was just him and Merle: Couldn't get one without the other. And now lightning was gone…put out by thunder.

"Shit, shit, shit!" Daryl swore and kicked at the side of the building. When his boot connected with the brick wall, the door swung open. For a second he thought he'd hit a secret button but then a flashlight came on and he squinted as he was blinded. "The hell ya doin' Grimes," he complained and tried to shield his eyes.

"Sorry," said Rick and the light was turned off. "You've been gone a while."

"Ain't gone when I didn't go nowhere to begin with."

The two men were briefly lit up by another flash of lightning and thunder that trailed closer behind. Rick sighed and shut the door.

"What are you thinking about?"

Daryl rubbed the back of his aching head. "Thinkin' that truck is gonna make a soggy ride with the windows all shot out when this storm blows through."

Daryl thought Rick appeared to nod in agreement. "I've got the keys on me, we can go move it. Back it up under one of the awnings."

"Let's get to it then," said Daryl as he stepped away from the wall. "We don't got much time." Rick led the way around the building. He'd periodically click the flashlight on to make sure they weren't going to be met with any walker surprises. It was already difficult to hear over the howling winds.

The pair had almost made it halfway to the cars when Rick was jerked to the side by Daryl and thrown roughly against the wall. Daryl heard his crossbow being jostled and ripped it over Rick's head. He had to focus every ounce of energy into drawing it and was rewarded with the feeling like he was swimming through a choking fog.

"What's wrong?" whispered Rick as he un-holstered his revolver.

"Those trucks weren't here earlier."

"What trucks?"

Two quick flashes of lightning showed Rick what trucks Daryl was talking about.

At the far side of the lot, three large trucks were parked in a single line. After another flash of lightning, Rick thought there might've been a man-sized shadow in front of one of the doors. A second flash showed no shadow.

"Looks like Bill just took a shortcut to the front of my shit list," said Daryl from under the cover of a gust of wind. "That center one is the Governor's truck."