~Clary~

"Daryl, Hershel," Rick says, and the two look up from the table. "Come on."

"What's going on?" I ask, catching Daryl's arm before he leaves.

"It's nothin'," he answers. "We've got it."

"Daryl."

He looks to Rick for permission. "Should she?"

Rick gives a nod, and Daryl pulls me to my feet. I follow the others outside, away from the cell block and down by the guard tower, always watching Rick. After a while, I ask, "What's going on?"

"It's about the Governor," he says. "His demands."

"He wants the prison. That's what you said."

"It's not… it's not all that he wants," Rick tells me. "He wants Michonne."

"Michonne?" I repeat. "You can't."

"It's the only way. No one else knows."

"You gonna tell 'em?" Daryl inquires.

"Not till after. We have to do it today. It's gotta be quiet."

"Got a plan?"

"We tell her we need to talk. Away from the others."

"This ain't us, man," I say, shaking my head.

"No, it isn't," Hershel agrees, speaking for the first time since we've come outside. He turns and walks away, back inside prison.

"This ain't what we do," I say.

"Listen, we do this, and we avoid a fight," Rick says. "No one dies."

"Except for her," I snap.

"She's not one of us."

Before I can say, "That doesn't mean she deserves to die," Daryl cuts me off, agreeing to it. "Alright," he says. "Alright."

I look up at him, hardly able to believe that he's actually agreeing to handing Michonne over to the Governor. "We've got no other choice," he says.

"We need someone else," Rick says.

"You mean a mercenary," I correct. "I won't do it. Find someone else to do your dirty work."

"Merle," Daryl says, volunteering our eldest brother for the job. "I'll talk to him."

"I'll do it," Rick says.

"I'll go with you."

"No," Rick says with a shake of his head. "Just me."

As he turns and walks inside the prison, I stare at Daryl, who remains outside with me. "What?" he inquires.

"I can't believe you agreed," I say. "You just sealed her fate. And it's worse than death."

"The hell else am I supposed to do, Clary?" he replies. "Let us go to war with this Governor?"

"If that's what it takes. Michonne, she's one of us, Daryl. She's family now."

"Yeah, and you're mine. You come before everyone else here. I have to do what it takes to keep you safe, even if it means sacrificin' her. I can't lose you."

"You might as well have killed her yourself," I say coldly, then turn and walk inside the prison. I walk off into a corridor, away from the others. I only stop when I realize I'm in the same hall that T-Dog died in, then turn and punch the wall. "Motherfucker!" I groan as the pain registers.

"Friggin' dumbass," Glenn says, and I look up as he comes around the corner. I bite my lip as I hold my hand to my chest, trying not to make a sound. "Clary?" Glenn asks softly. "Hey, are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I answer.

He reaches out, softly asking, "Can I?"

I let him take my hand, and when I wince, he loosens his grip until he's barely touching my hand. "What happened?" he asks.

"I punched a wall," I deadpan.

"That's not what I meant," he says. "You're crying."

I immediately wipe my cheeks, not knowing that I was. "It hurt punchin' the wall."

It's not a lie, exactly. The wall hurt. Glenn leans down, looking in my eyes. "Clary, what's going on? Did Carl do something?"

I shake my head at once. "It's got nothin' to do with me and Carl."

"Then what is it?"

"I―I―I can't tell you."

"You can."

"Believe me, I want to. I need someone's help stoppin' them. But it won't do no good. They're still gonna do it anyway."

"Let me help, Clars."

I shake my head. "There's nothin' that can be done. It's set in stone."

"Dammit, Clary! You gotta let us in, let us help! You can't do this on your own."

"Why the hell not?" I reply. "I'm already on my own."

~Glenn~

"Yeah, that's an open invitation," I mutter to myself as I see the cell door knocked off its hinges on the outside of the prison. I make my way over to it, setting the box I was carrying down beside it. One door is fine, the other one barely hanging on. It's almost too heavy for me to move on my own. I turn at the sound of Daryl's voice, then look away when I hear his question. "You seen Merle around?"

I shake my head as he walks over, giving me a hand straightening the door. He fixes the chain near the top, while I fix the one that locks the two doors together. "Do you know what's up with Clary?" I ask Daryl, switching the subject from Merle.

"Hell if I know," he huffs.

"Really?" I say. "I thought you, of all people, would know. I ran into her in the tombs. She punched the wall, was crying about something that she absolutely refused to tell me. Said nothing could be done about it."

Daryl looks down, quiet now. "She's pissed 'cause I sided with Rick. And Merle." I snort at the mention of his brother. "Did he say he was sorry yet? 'Cause he is. He's gonna make it right. I'm gonna make him. There's got to be a way. Just needs to be a little forgiveness is all."

"He tied me to a chair, beat me, and threw a walker in the room," I say after a moment. "Maybe I could call it even. But he... he took Maggie to a man who terrorized her, humiliated her. He took Clary and interrogated her. I have never seen her so scared in all the time that I've known her. And the fact that he did that to her, to them, that Clary's own brother did that to her, that's something I can't just forget because he says 'I'm sorry.' I care more about them than I care about me."

Daryl looks down, nodding quietly, then picks up his crossbow and turns to walk away. He pauses, looking back at me. "Your hatred, it's not just for Merle." I open my mouth to argue, but he cuts me off. "Stop. I ain't dumb. You hate the Governor just as much. Your mission, this vandetta you have against him… You gotta stop. You're gonna get yourself killed. You don't realize how much you mean to Clary. She can't lose you."

I watch as he turns and walks away, probably off to find Merle, before going back to the box full of glass bottles to be made into Molotovs. "He's right, you know."

I jump at the sound of Clary's voice, nearly dropping the bottle I'm holding. I look up to find her sitting on the edge of the roof, one leg dangling off. "Clary?" I ask. "The hell are you doing up there?"

"Uh, surveillance? Scouting?" she tries, grinning. Her smile fades as she says, "It's like that cliff back at the quarry."

'You go there when you want to be alone," I say, remembering the time we sat there together.

"Or I just wanted a place to think." Clary gestures in the direction that her brother went. "He's right, you know. What you have against the Governor. You can't take him on yourself, you know that, right? You try to, you're gonna get killed. You got Maggie here, Glenn. She needs you, loves you. You can't just throw that away."

"And what about you?" I question. "You're ready to go kill him. You can't do it, either."

"Don't tell me what I can't do," she snaps, then pauses. "Shit, that's from Lost." Clary looks back down at me. "Willpower alone isn't enough in battle."

I start to reply, then pause, recognizing that quote. "Did you just quote Armin?"

She thinks for a second, then nods. "What Daryl said, he means it. He's gonna make Merle say he's sorry. Daryl makes a promise, he keeps 'em."

"I don't want his apology," I say.

"Then what do you want?"

"For you and Maggie to be safe. I can't take anything happening to either of you."

Clary nods slowly, then stands. "Just so you know, Short Round, I care more about you and Daryl than I care about me."

~Daryl~

"Merle?" I call as I wander the tombs near the generator room. "Merle? You down here?" I raise my crossbow when I hear the metal clanking, moving forward into the room. "Merle."

I lower my weapon when I see that it's just Merle in the generator room. "Hey, little brother," he says with a bit of a chuckle. "I was just about to holler back at you."

I look around, searching for any signs that Merle messed anything up in here. "What're you doing down here?" I inquire, looking back at him.

"Just looking for a little crystal meth," he immediately replies, moving to block my view of something. I don't miss it, but I pretend that I do. I shake my head, stepping away so he doesn't get suspicious. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Shit will mess my life up. Especially when everything's going so sweet, right?"

"You talk to Rick yet?" I ask.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm in. But, uh, he ain't got the stomach for it. He's gonna buckle. You know that, right?"

I give a shrug, remembering Clary's words about handing Michonne over to the Governor. Maybe at this point, it won't be so bad if Rick buckles. "If he does, he does," I say.

"You want him to?" Merle questions.

I shrug. "Dunno. Clary, she's against it. Me, I don't know. Whatever he says, goes, I guess."

Merle scoffs, shaking his head. "Man. Do you even possess a pair of balls, little brother? I mean, if you do, do they even belong to you? You used to call people like that sheep. What happened to you?"

"What happened with you and Glenn?" I ask. "Maggie? What happened where you let that happen to Clary?"

"I've done worse," he replies. "You need to grow up. Things are different now. Your—"

"You don't give a damn about your own sister!" I bark. "Do me a favor, Merle, and stay the hell away from her."

Despite my outburst, his voice is calm as he continues. "Your people look at me like I'm the devil, grabbing up those lovebirds like that, huh?"

"You took our sister with them."

"Now y'all wanna do the same damn thing I did. Snatch someone up and deliver them to the Governor. Just like me, yeah. People do what they gotta do or they die."

"Can't do things without people anymore, man."

Merle scoffs. "Maybe these people need somebody like me around, huh? Do their dirty work. The bad guy. Yeah, maybe that's how it is now. How does that hit you?"

"Clary said the same thing," I say. "Called you two the mercenaries of the leaders. The hired killers. She said she was done doing Rick's dirty work."

"And so it falls to me, huh?" he questions. "She can't do it. That girl musta said something to her, something that hit her hard. Do you remember how Clary never trusted anyone?" I give a nod, not quite sure where he's going with this. "Now she's trustin' that bitch, considerin' her family. She can't do it, so they hand the job over to me. How does that hit you?"

I pause. "I just want my brother back," I admit.

I close my eyes, looking down, as I realize what I said, realizing that Merle is nothing like Clary. I can say what's really on my mind to my sister, but if I so much as express an emotion or opinion that doesn't agree with his to Merle, I get written off as a pussy. I turn and walk out, not staying to hear what I know would be harsh verbal abuse. Something that Merle picked up from our father, and at this point, I know it's not the only thing he picked up.

~Clary~

As the sun rises higher and higher, getting closer to the deadline of noon, I realize that I don't see Michonne anywhere. I run through the cell block, looking for her. As I turn to run through the prison, I nearly slam into Daryl. "Where's Merle?" I rush. "Where is he?"

"Last I saw him, generator room," Daryl answers. "Why?"

"Shit!" I say, taking off towards the generator room while Daryl calls after me, asking what's going on. I ignore him, running through the tombs as I race to the generator room, determined to get there before Merle takes her to her death.

I skid to a stop just outside, keeping my footsteps quiet as I walk in. I pause, listening, and hear the sound of someone breathing. He's here. I continue on, keeping my gaurd up as I have no clue where he is. I find him kneeling on the ground, just on the other side of a generator.

"Merle?" I ask, staring as I come around the corner. Then, I see the still body of Michonne, and cry, "'chonne!"

I take a step back as he gets to his feet, growling, "The hell are you doing here, Clary?"

"I came to make sure you didn't kill her," I reply, finally looking away from Michonne only after I see her breathing. "Guess I got here in time."

"We have to do this," Merle says. "There's no other choice."

"That's what Rick told you, huh?" I inquire, drawing my gun and aiming at him. "I won't let you. She don't deserve that."

Merle holds up a hand. "Clary, put it down. Neither of us want things to get ugly. Daryl won't forgive us, no matter what happens."

"You're just protecting yourself, you son of a bitch," I snap.

He narrows his eyes, and before I know it, he's knocked my gun out of my hands. He lets out a yell as he slams me against the generator. I groan as my head hits the metal, blinking to clear the pain. Merle releases me, and I stumble forward. I throw a punch, but he dodges it, using his metal sleeve to hit me in the back of the head. I drop to my knees, my vision blurring. I'm mostly out of it, dimly aware of Merle tying my hands together in front of me. My vision goes black as I slump against him.

"I wanna be with my siblings," Merle says as he leads Michonne and I down an empty road. He keeps hold of a rope that's tied to the wire binding our wrists to make sure that we don't run off, the wire so we can't chew our way free. "They wanna be in the prison. This little trip, maybe it'll keep that place standing. If I pull it off, maybe all is forgiven."

"That's a whole lotta maybes," I say, then stop walking and face my brother. "Listen to me, you jackass, and you listen good. Even if you pull it off, nothin' will be forgiven. Nothin'. And it never will, Merle. Everythin' that you done, no matter who to, it ain't gonna be forgiven by handin' Michonne over to the Governor. He ain't gonna kill her. Eventually he will, but it'll be slowly, painfully, after he tortured her. And you will the cause of her sufferin'. Nothin' at all will be forgiven if you 'pull this off.'"

Merle makes a little hmph sound that's mixed with a small chuckle. "You gotta play the hand you're dealt, baby sister. I only got one."

Merle wanders over to a parked car in the driveway of the house we stopped in front of. "Have fun in hell, Merle," I hiss, venom in every word.

"See you there, baby sis," Merle simply replies. He walks back to Michonne and I, stopping in front of us. Michonne says, "You talk about the weight of what you have to do, how you can handle it. A bad man, someone truly evil, they're light as a feather. They don't feel a thing."

"I've killed sixteen men since all this went down." Merle glances at the walkers coming out of the woods. "Let's go."

We continue walking, surely to our sudden or, in Michonne's case, eventual deaths. I suddenly remember a part of a movie I once saw, where a guy on his way to get the needle started singing a bit of a song that I knew, and realize that my situation nearly mirror his. I figure, I'm never gonna get to do it again, so I start singing it:

"Did you write the book of love
And do you have faith in God above
If the Bible tells you so?
Now do you believe in rock and roll
Can music save your mortal soul
And can you teach me how to dance real slow?

Well, I know that you're in love with him
'Cause I saw you dancin' in the gym
You both kicked off your shoes
Man, I dig those rhythm 'n' blues

I was a lonely teenage broncin' buck
With a pink carnation and a pickup truck
But I knew I was out of luck
The day the music died

I started singin' bye-bye, Miss American Pie
Drove my Chevy to the levee, but the levee was dry
Them good old boys were drinkin' whiskey and rye
Singin' 'This'll be the day that I die'
'This'll be the day…"

I pause, realizing that maybe it really did mirror my predicament, but continue the last line anyway:

...that I die'"

Michonne and Merle look over at me, and I shrug, looking past my brother at Michonne. Then I look at Merle. "Love Comes to the Executioner."

Of course, I'm naming the movie, but it also has another meaning to it. If this goes down the way that Merle wants it to, then Merle would be our executioner. Then, I realize that, even after all he's done, Merle's still my brother. There's nothing more important to me and my brothers than three words: Dixons stick together. And that's what Daryl, Merle, and I still do. Even after all the shit that Merle's done, he's still a Dixon, and we stick together. We all love each other, even if we don't say it. Or, at least, if Merle doesn't say it.

"You're being awfully optimistic about this scenario," Michonne says.

"I know," I reply with an equal amount of sarcasm. "I've been told I have a bubbly personality and I'm a glass-half-full kind of person. Oh wait, that last bit is Glenn." Michonne gives me a ghost of a smile, while Merle rolls his eyes. I look at him. "Remember Glenn, Merle? Who you beat, and tried to kill? And that was after he got kidnapped when they went back for you in Atlan—"

Merle suddenly backhands me so hard I fall to the ground. Because my hands are tied, I'm not able to brace myself, and fall flat on my face. I roll onto my side and prop myself up. "Get up," Merle snarls.

"You ain't no better than Dad," I growl. "Ya know that? You've become like him, Merle."

Michonne kneels next to me, and turns my head so she can look at my cheek. "I'm fine," I tell her. "I've had worse."

She pulls me to my feet and we continue on, Michonne now putting herself between Merle and I.

~Daryl~

I step outside with Rick, scanning the edge of the woods for any sign of the Governor's forces while he looks up at the sky for the time. "It's off," he says, turning to look at me. "We'll take our chances."

"I'm not saying it was the wrong call, but this is definitely the right one," I reply. "You seen Clary 'round?" He shakes his head, and I notice that something's gotta be bothering him. "What's wrong?"

"I can't find Merle or Michonne. They've gone."

"Can't find Clary. Last I saw her, she was looking for Merle. Think he took her, too?"

Rick bites his lip. "I don't know. I wouldn't put it past him."

I glance out at the walkers starting to crowd the fence, then say, "C'mon."

I lead the way through the prison into the generator room, both of us looking for any signs of the trio. "He was in here," I say as we enter the room. "Said he was looking for drugs. Said a lot of things, actually."

"Like what?" Rick inquires.

"Said that you were gonna change your mind." I notice a bag on the floor and how the dust is mussed up. "Here we go." I look around a bit more as Rick wanders over. "Yeah, he took her here. They mixed it up. I don't see anything else, though."

"Daryl," he says, and I turn at my name. He picks up a gun, a completely black Beretta. "It's got a left hand release."

"Oh, shit," I breathe, realizing that it's hers.

"Dammit," he curses, starting towards the door. "I'm going after him."

"You can't track for shit," I point out.

"Then both of us," he says, turning to me.

"No, just me. I said I'd go and I'll go. Plus, they're gonna come back here. You need to be ready. Your family, too. If he's got Clary with him, I've gotta go. And, Rick?"

"Yeah?"

"If she comes back, tell her I'm sorry."

~Clary~

As we reach an abandoned hotel, Merle says, "I think we're good."

"Yeah, we're great," I say. "Just friggin' peachy."

He leads Michonne and I to a support pole, tying the rope around it. We wait as he picks a car lock, then attempts to hotwire it. "C'mon," I mutter under my breath as the engine sputters, then roars to life. "That's better." Merle must've fucked something up, as the car alarm begins to wail. "Oh, for shit's sake."

"Creative cursing," Michonne comments.

"C'mon!" I yell to Merle. "Turn that damn thing off! You tryin' to draw every walker for a mile?"

"They're already here," Michonne says, and I turn to see about half a dozen already appearing out of the woods. She yells, "Merle!"

"Fuck dammit, Merle!" I yell. "Hurry your ass up!"

"Shit," I say, looking over as a walker appears out of a room about two doors down.

"On your left!" Michonne cries, and I turn just in time to see a walker nearly on me. I kick it to the ground, stomping its head in. Even after all this time in this world, one of the things I hate the most is the squishy flesh of decaying brains. She looks over at me as the other walker approaches. "We've gotta do this together," she says. "Follow my lead."

When the walker is nearly on us, we use the rope to pin it to the pole, wrapping the rope around its neck. We pull on it, and manage to get it to decapitate the walker. However, by doing this, we don't have any extra rope left, and we can't move when a walker suddenly appears beside Michonne. A gunshot rings out, and the walker drops to the ground just as it grabs her. We turn as Merle runs over, using the knife attached to his hand to cut the ties. Our hands remained tied, but we're no longer tied together. "Come on!" he barks.

We follow him to the car, and he throws open the passenger door for Michonne before running around the back. I follow, sliding over the trunk to join him on the other side. He opens the door for me, then climbs in the driver's seat as Michonne and I close our doors. The tires squeal as he backs up, then speeds off, away from the walkers drawn by the blaring alarm. As we head towards Verlin's, Michonne asks, "So is this your thing, then? You take out the trash?"

"Don't be so hard on yourself, darlin'," Merle replies.

"The Governor, Rick. Anyone needs their piss bucket emptied and you come a-running. Things are different for your siblings."

"Yeah, they are," Merle agrees. "Rick says jump and both of 'em want to know how high."

Michonne shakes her head. "Rick needs both of them. Respects 'em. He didn't ask Daryl to do this little job, now did he? Never asked Clary."

"That's 'cause she wouldn't be able to. He wanted it done." Merle looks at me in the rearview mirror. "What, no comment?"

"You ain't wrong," I answer. "I said I was done doin' Rick's dirty work."

"Truth is, this could've been your shot," Michonne says, looking over at Merle. "With your skills, a whole new beginning. But you choose to stay on the outside."

"You know, no one's gonna mourn you," I say. "Not even Daryl or I. Since you left, we got a new family. A better family."

Merle sighs. "You keep trying to get under my skin, both of you, I'm gonna cut that tongue out." He looks at Michonne. "Your buddy's turning you over 'cause he's trying to save his own ass. You're as much on the outside as I am, girl."

"Maybe," she says. "But once the Governor's down with me, at least I won't have to live with myself."

"No, I say, breaking the silence that follows. "She ain't on the outside. She's one of us, part of Rick's group. She's got a place in our ranks. You don't. You're on the outside, Merle, but only 'cause you chose to be there. Rick ain't trying to save his own ass. He's saving his family's. He's saving our asses."

We drive in silence for a little while, and I attempt to untie the wire around my wrists while Merle isn't looking. It's tied pretty damn tight, especially considering he's only got one hand. "You said you killed sixteen men since this thing started?" Michonne questions, breaking the silence after a while. "You ever kill anyone before?"

"No," Merle answers.

"How about before Woodbury? Before you met him?" Merle doesn't reply, causing Michonne to scoff. "So he saves your life, cleans you up, fed you a line of bullshit. Why would you kill somebody else for him? You know, we can go back."

Merle chuckles at her attempt. "Ain't happening."

"All of us," Michonne says. "We can just go back."

Merle shakes his head. "I can't go back. Don't you understand that? I can't."

"Why?"

The brakes squeal as he stops the car. He turns, and without saying anything, cuts her restraints. He glances back at me, and I hold up mine for him to cut. "You go back with them," he says. "Get ready for what's next. I got something I gotta do on my own."

Michonne and I climb out, and he hands us our weapons—katana and knife. "Where's my gun?" I ask him.

"Prison," he answers. Michonne and I close the doors, and he drives off. As we start off towards the prison, I look over at Michonne's sword. She catches my glance, and asks, "Like it?"

"Very much," I answer. "Maybe when we get back, you could teach me how to use it? If it's not too much trouble."

Michonne pulls it off, holding it out towards me. "No time like the present."

"You serious?" When she gives a nod, I put the strap over my shoulder, getting used to the weapon being there. It's lighter than my crossbow by about five pounds. "Walker," she says as we near the motel, gesturing up to it. "You want to try?"

"Hells yeah," I reply, drawing the sword as I start forward. Michonne stands back as I dispatch the walker the same way I've seen her do many times before, only adapted to fit my left-handedism. Oh, the struggles of being left handed. I turn back to Michonne, sliding the katana back in its sheath. "How'd I do?"

"I'm impressed," she says. "Especially for this being the first time you've used her."

"'Her?'" I repeat. "What'd you do, name her Kindness so you can kill people with Kindness?"

"How have you survived while making jokes that make the group want to shoot you?"

"Good question," I tell her as we start walking. "Though it wasn't jokes that nearly got me shot a few times." Michonne looks over at me. "It's a long story, but our former resident great big back of dicks really hated me. Knew I was dangerous."

Michonne looks over at me as we walk, and she finally says, "I'm trying to figure out what it is that makes you so dangerous."

"Damaged people are dangerous," I tell her. "We know we can survive."

We're quiet as we walk back, and I give her back her katana as we come to where I woke up, thrown over Merle's shoulder. "How far is it?" I ask her.

"We're about halfway there," she answers. I look down, noticing a decapitated walker head. I roll my eyes. Some people still don't understand that you have to destroy the brain to kill the dead. I kneel, driving my knife into the head, and look up as soon as I hear a familiar voice call, "Hey?"

"Daryl?" I ask, getting to my feet.

"Shit," he breathes, taking off towards us. I wrap my arms around him as soon as he reaches me, breathing out a sigh of relief. "You're okay," he mutters softly. "He didn't hurt you, did he?"

I pull back, looking up at him. "No," I tell him, turning my head so he can't see the mark on my cheek from where I was slapped. "I'm fine."

"Where is he?" Daryl asks, glancing over at Michonne now. "You kill him?"

Michonne shakes her head. "He let us go."

Daryl picks up his crossbow from where he dropped it, also handing me my gun. "Don't let anyone come after me," he tells Michonne, then looks down at me. "Head on back to the prison."

"You ain't goin' nowhere without me," I say, holstering my gun.

"Go back," he repeats. "Go. I've got this."

"Don't you get it?" I ask him. "We're in this together. I'm comin' with you, whether you like it or not. Now let's go."

Daryl pauses a second, then takes off without waiting to see if I follow him or Michonne. When we make it to Verlin's, no one is around. Well, no one that's alive is around, anyway. It's full of walkers feeding. I get Daryl's attention, gesturing over to the car that Merle was driving. He gives a nod as we continue on. The walkers that we pass ignore us, continuing their feeding frenzy. Daryl takes one down that's making a rather lot of noise, and I follow him, staying close, as he pulls the arrow out of the walkers head. Something doesn't feel right. We round a corner, another walker feeding on the body of a boy about twenty. Then, it looks up, and I see that it's not just any walker.

Merle.

"Oh, no," I whisper, and I'm surprised how much my voice is shaking. Even after all the times that I've said how I don't give a damn about Merle, at the end of the day, I do care. He's my brother. Daryl and I stare as he stands, and I find what killed him loud and clear. There's a single gunshot wound, straight to the chest. He steps over the body of the boy, stumbling towards us. Daryl steps backwards, reaching out to pull me back with him, keeping me behind him. As Merle nears, he shoves him away, crying, "No!"

Merle stumbles over to us again, and Daryl pushes him away again before wrapping his arms around me. I start to lean into Daryl, and he grabs for my arm as I pull away from him, stepping forward to face Merle. "I'll do it," he whispers, shoving our brother away from us. "I can do it."

He draws his knife as Merle approaches, pushing him to the ground this time. He sits on our brother's chest, driving the knife into his forehead. When he pulls it out, he doesn't get to his feet, instead driving his knife into Merle's head over and over. After seeing enough, I wrap my arms around Daryl, trying to pull him off of Merle. He doesn't fight back, dropping the knife as we fall backwards, sobbing. He wraps his arms around me, and I lean into his chest so I don't look. He buries his face in my shoulder, sobbing over our brother, realizing that we're all that's left of the Dixons. I suddenly remember the last thing that Merle said. I got something I gotta do on my own.

He must have come and killed the Woodbury survivors, then someone killed him. No, not someone. The goddamn Governor. And he's gonna be after the rest of us soon.

"Clary?" Daryl asks softly. "Clary, can you hear me?"

I look up at him. "I'm so sorry, Daryl."

I close my eyes as I lean into him again, and Daryl tightens his hold on me. "Don't," he whimpers. "Please. Don't leave me, too."