Alright, this is the third Thursday in a row that I've updated. And I'm confident enough to say, that every Thursday is my updating schedule. As long as things keep going this smoothly, I'll be able to post every Thursday. But that might change once I get a job.

The next day, Rick, Carl, and Michonne went on a run for guns. The former sheriff didn't say anything, but it was clear to everyone that taking the woman with him and Carl was a sort of test.

In the act of foraging for more guns and ammo to protect themselves, the three had taken what little ammo they had left. Leaving the prison almost completely defenseless. Something that had set everyone on edge.

When Nye was changing Mason's bandage up in his cell, she was paid a visit by the Dixon she was still talking to.

Merle whistled as he leaned against the doorway, eyeing Mason's wound. "Damn kid, looks like it hurts."

While Nye silently rolled her eyes, Mason scoffed. "Yeah, no shit."

At Mason's retort, Merle grinned. Amused that the curly haired kid showed he was in no way intimated by the older redneck.

"How'd it happen?"

Nye opened her mouth, but Mason spoke first.

"I was in the courtyard, near the graves. I don't remember much though. Just feeling like my side was on fire, and Mom hovering over me."

Merle hummed, not surprised the kid had blocked out the most of it.

"Oki-doke. I'm all done." Nye announced, sitting up and theatrically swiping her hands clean.

"Cool." Mason grunted, sitting up.

Nye immediately shut that shit down. "Nope, sit your ass back down. You won't heal if you keep overexerting yourself."

"Your mom's right kid, sooner you're healed, the better."

Nye blinked, looking over at Merle in surprise.

At her look, the older Dixon shrugged. "Can't exactly run for your life if you've got an open gunshot wound."

Pursing her lips, and narrowing her eyes, Nye hummed. "Fair."

"Hey."

Nye and Merle looked over at Daryl as he ascended the stairs, watching his brother warily.

"Sup Daryl!" Mason shouted from the bottom bunk.

The archer gave a greeting nod to the kid in return, instead of answering verbally.

Shifting his feet, Daryl glanced back and forth between his brother and Nye. As if silently asking her if everything was okay.

Nye raised a brow, silently saying "Piss off."

Daryl nodded twice, (which translated to "Got it.") before turning right back around, stepping down the stairs.

As soon as his back was turned, Nye's shoulders dropped.

"My God, just forgive him." Mason groaned.

Scowling childishly, Nye crossed her arms. "Not yet. He was an insensitive dick, and I need time to brood."

I already have, but I've got a reputation to uphold.

Mason snorted. "Toby says you look like Kermit the Frog when you brood."

Merle chuckled lowly at her expense, while Nye looked down on her son in shock.

"You're kidding."

"Nope."

"How the ever-loving fuck, do I look like Kermit the Frog?"

"Only when you brood." Mason affirmed.

Sputtering, Nye glared at both males, who were both laughing at her now.

She crossed her arms. "I'll tell your brother you're being mean to me."

Both Mason and Merle stopped laughing. And Merle gestured to himself, then Mason. "Which one of us are you talkin' about?"

She smirked. "Yes."

Mason and Merle chose wisely not to continue laughing at her. Mason, because if Toby had it in his head that he hurt Nye's feelings, the eleven year old would ride his ass hard. And Merle, he just had a feeling that Daryl would be willing to commit homicide for the brunette.

When the small group of three returned, it was with several surprises. The first, being that they had ran into the man, Morgan, who saved Rick's life when he woke up from his coma. The second, was that Morgan, had quite the stash of guns and the like, and thankfully gave them a huge chunk of his weapons. The third, was Carl had managed to not only get Judith a real crib, but also a family picture, of him, Rick, and most importantly, Lori.

Carl insisted that Michonne was the reason he was even able to get the picture. Showing that the woman had won Carl over, and that was almost a sure fire sign that Michonne was sticking around.

Setting down several bags of weapons on one of the metal tables, Rick took out gun, after gun, after gun. While Carl took out the ammo.

Michonne walked up to Daryl, holding out a brand new crossbow.

He took it, weighing it in his hands, then held it up, aiming it. After a second he lowered it, seeming to approve the new weapon. He nodded to Michonne in thanks.

As Nye was snooping around in the bags, she found a rolled up strip of leather. When she unrolled it across the table, it revealed a dozen blades. None of which had rubber, leather, or even plastic handles. Picking one up, Nye weighed it much like Daryl had done with the crossbow. And after feeling the heavy, but balanced weight, Nye knew what it was.

"Dibs." She called, staking claim to the throwing knives.

"What are those?" Glenn asked, setting down one of the many rifles.

"Throwin' knives." Merle answered, much to the annoyance of Glenn. "You know how to use those, Shorty?"

"I'll learn." Nye shrugged.

"Okay, this is good." Rick caught everyone's attention. "But we can't relax, so long as The Governor is alive, it's not safe to let our guard down."

"We got the guns and ammo, what's stoppin' us from takin' the fight to him?" Daryl questioned.

"Andrea was right about one thing." Nye said. "There are innocents living in that town. Not to mention, the last time you guys went there, you almost didn't come back."

Rick nodded agreeingly. "Best thing for us to do at the moment, is wait."

...

Waiting seemed to be fruitful, as the next day, Andrea showed back up at the prison. She only stuck around long enough to hold Judith as she told them that Philip wanted to hold a civil discussion with Rick, pertaining to the two working their issues out. As if it was that easy.

Rick agreed, on the condition that he could bring three people with him. Andrea replied, saying that Philip was planning to bring a few men of his own. So there should be no problem.

"Just as a precaution." She had assured as Rick stared her down.

The first two people Rick picked were obvious, but the third was surprising. Daryl, for physical backup. Hershel as a morality center. And Nye.

"Why her?" Daryl asked, looking not fully onboard with the plan.

Rick looked over to the former nurse, giving her a once over. "When she wants to be, Nye can be a jack-of-all-trades."

"Bullshit." Mason retorted from the catwalk.

But it made sense. If she didn't have good fighting skills, she wouldn't be alive. If she didn't have quick thinking, again, she probably wouldn't be alive. But, if she didn't have a charismatic charm about her, she wouldn't have Mason or Toby.

And charm might be what they would need. It was better safe than sorry.

After they all geared up, arming themselves to the teeth, the four chosen went over to their green mini-van, and Daryl's bike.

Mason was helped outside, where he and Toby hugged her goodbye.

Hershel got into the driver's seat, something Nye didn't think was the smartest idea, seeing as how he was missing a leg.

After Rick got in the passenger seat, Nye reached for the handle to the seat behind Hershel. When the door didn't open on the first couple tries, Nye looked up at Hershel, swinging her arms in a 'what the hell?' fashion.

"You're riding with Daryl." The former vet told her, in a no-nonsense tone.

"I-I, but... What? Why?"

Hershel didn't answer verbally, instead he merely rolled up his window, muffling and blocking out Nye's indignant rant.

She stopped midway through, seeing that she would get nowhere.

Hershel and Rick watched as she threw her hands up in angered defeat, stomping over to Daryl.

"Why'd you do that?"

Hershel sighed tiredly. "You see it, don't you?"

The former sheriff looked through the windshield, as Nye approached the redneck. Who straightened up on his bike. Looking her over, as if concerned she had somehow managed to hurt herself in the five minutes he left her alone.

"...Yeah. But they don't."

"They will. We just have to give it time."

Outside the mini-van, Nye shifted her weight around, glaring at the dirt. "Hershel locked me out of the car."

Daryl's brows furrowed. "Why?"

"Hell if I know." She muttered, before nodding to the back of his bike. "I'm riding with you."

Daryl nodded, gripping the handlebars tightly, as he kicked the stand up.

As she watched him going through the motions, wearing his leather jacket under his winged vest, Nye felt another shiver.

The hell is with that!?

"Hop on."

Nye grumbled incoherently, tugging her goggles down over her eyes for once (the way goggles were intended). As she sat on the back of the seat, she held tightly around his middle. Daryl tensed, before relaxing marginally.

As the motorcycle roared to life, and they started moving, Nye quickly held tighter, not used to riding.

Feeling his back and shoulder-blades move as he steered the bike, for whatever reason, made a swirly feeling build up in Nye's stomach.

...

When they arrived at the meeting place. A sort of hay, and oats farming plant, Nye gathered. Everyone but Hershel left their vehicle, looking around suspiciously.

Rick gestured for Daryl to follow him, while Nye stayed behind with Hershel.

Said man was pulling up his right pant-leg, checking the two duck-taped pistols there were secure and ready to go.

Nye peered around, large rifle hoisted up, aiming immediately on anything that moved.

After what felt like too long, Hershel told her to get in the car. Once inside he drove them over to the other side of the main building.

As she looked around, Nye felt a pit form in her stomach. Forboding welling up all around. The whole place was giving Nye an anxious feeling, as if something huge would happen here. And her gut was usually right when it came to these things.

It feels like the calm before a storm.

Hershel parked as he saw Daryl appear around the corner, coming from the building.

He stood by Hershel's door, looking around uneasily. "He's already in there. Sat down with Rick."

Nye hopped out, shouldering her rifle. "Are you serious?"

Hershel looked around. "I don't see any cars."

Daryl shook his head, biting his lip. "It don't feel right." He tipped his head down to the hood of the car. "Keep it running."

Only a second passed, before the sound of tires on gravel pulled their attention to an upcoming car.

Daryl tapped the hood, lifting his new crossbow. "Heads up."

The first to come out was the driver, a smug looking man with dark scruff. The second was someone who Nye internally noted looked like James Potter, with wire-thin round glasses. The last to get out was Andrea, who look slightly relieved to once again see part of her former group.

"What the hell? Why's your boy already in there?" Daryl demanded.

Andrea stared at them in shock. "He's here?"

"Yup." The man with the scruff said.

Andrea shook her head angrily, marching right up to the building.

While they waited, Nye perched herself on the hood, watching as Daryl paced like a caged animal.

"Maybe I should go inside." Hershel suggested, making sure to sound as none-threatening as possible.

Fake-James-Potter looked up from his journal he was scribbling away in. "The Governor thought it best if he and Rick spoke privately."

Daryl stopped his pacing. "Who the hell are you?"

"Milton Mamet."

Nye tipped her head to the side. "Kinda sounds like a super hero name."

After receiving one too many looks, Nye fidgeted uncomfortably, explaining.

"You know, like Peter Parker, Wally West, or Bruce Banner..." Face flushing as some of the stares remained, Nye ducked her head. "...I'll shut up now."

Daryl continued pacing. "So why'd he bring his butler?"

The guy with the scruff snorted, clearly taking delight in the mockery.

Milton looked up again, staring down the hunter. "I'm his advisor."

"What kind of advice?" Daryl asked, not at all genuinely interested.

"Planning. Biters." Milton trailed off before shrugging. "Uh, you know, I'm sorry. I don't feel like I need to explain myself to the henchmen."

"Hey, rude. I said you sounded like a comic book character."

"You better watch your mouth, princess." Daryl shot back over Nye's retort.

"Look, if you and I are gonna be out here pointing guns at each other all day, do me a favor, shut your mouth." Scruff said.

"I'm sorry," Nye started heatedly in mock confusion. "Who was talking to you? Or, were you just that in need of attention?"

Scruff clenched his jaw, but made no move towards Nye. But that may have been because Daryl got in his face before he could.

"We don't need this." Hershel spoke up. "If all goes south in there, we'll be at each other's throats soon enough."

Daryl slowly backed off, walking back to the former vet, and nurse.

To pass the time, Nye did everything from untying and retying her shoes, to singing her favorite Queen songs beginning to end in her head.

When Andrea stepped out, everyone looked up in anticipation. But it was only the blonde to leave the building. At the dejected look on her face, Scruff and Milton looked a tad bit concerned for her, which comforted Nye in a way.

Scruff stepped to to the door, closing it.

Milton hesitantly stepped forward. "There's no reason not to use this time we have together to explore the issues ourselves."

"Boss said to sit tight and shut up." Scruff snapped.

"Don't you mean The Governor?" Daryl mocked.

Milton continued on civilly. "It's a good thing they're sitting down, especially after what happened. They're gonna work it out. Nobody wants another battle."

"I wouldn't exactly call it a battle." Daryl scoffed.

"I would call it a battle and I did. I recorded it." Milton said, holding up his journal.

Nye shook her head disbelievingly. "Why?"

"Somebody's got to keep a record of what we've gone through. It'll be a part of our history."

Nye blinked in faint surprise at his answer, while Hershel nodded wisely.

"That makes sense."

Nye leaned back against the windshield. "I... Yeah, actually, it does. If we ignore it, history's doomed to repeat itself."

"Exactly." Milton said proudly.

Daryl had looked ready to mock Milton some more, until Nye had spoken.

Milton excitedly walked up to Nye and Hershel, flipping through his journal. "I've got dozens of interviews-"

The snarling of Walkers caught everyone's attention. Daryl, Scruff, Nye, and Andrea all ran around the building. Finding five Walkers all shambling towards them.

Daryl lowered his crossbow, sweeping his hand in the direction of the undead, staring down Scruff. "After you."

Scruff scoffed, pointing his metal bat at the Walkers. "No way. You first."

In a surprising act of comradery, Nye and Andrea rolled their eyes at the men, glancing at each other. Without a word shared between them, both women brushed passed the men.

"Put the rulers away, boys." Nye called as she and the blonde marched forward.

Andrea let out a battle cry, pushing a Walker up against the wall, and quickly stabbing it in the eye.

Nye dropped her rifle, the strap preventing it from falling to the ground, and instead took her wrench off of her belt. Swinging it in her hand, Nye approached one of the Walkers. Deciding to show off a little, she swung the wrench upwards as hard as she could, catching it under the chin. The result being, the Walker's jaw shattered, and its neck tore from the force. The back of its head now touching its shoulder-blades, neck no stronger than a wet noodle, as it fell to the ground, lifeless.

Andrea turned and walked away, not sparing a glance at the two men.

Nye followed, but paused a few yards away, watching the two take out the ones left.

Scruff bashed one's head in, looking over his shoulder smugly. Daryl shrugged, unfazed, and put a bolt in one.

Scruff walked towards the last Walkers, but Daryl intervened. Quickly pulling out one of his knives, holding it by the blade, he flicked his wrist, and imbedded the knife into the Walker's skull.

Nye's eyes widened, mouth dropping open as she watched Daryl throw the knife with dead-on accuracy. The strongest shiver yet, ran through her as a result. She chose to ignore it.

Running to catch up with Andrea, Nye hooked her bloodied wrench back on her belt.

The blonde looked to her left as Nye slowed to a walk next to her.

"Men compete in the stupidest things."

Nye hummed agreeingly, but shrugged. "It's just biology. Think of it like how a bird struts his feathers to attract a mate. I guess it's just hard-wired into their brains to show off."

Andrea nodded, chuckling lightly. "Never would have expected Daryl to be one for showing off. But, than again..."

"What?"

Andrea smiled at her, as if she knew something the brunette didn't. "Nothing. Let's go see how things are going."

...

When Rick and The Governor exited the building, everyone who had been brought along shared a silent look. Andrea, much to Hershel's disappointment, got back in the car with The Governor.

Rick got in their car, this time in the driver's seat, while Hershel rode shotgun. This time Nye didn't bother going for the car, she only pulled her goggles back down, and latched onto Daryl's back.

The drive back seemed much shorter than it should have. But that may have been because Nye wasn't ready to hear what Rick had to say.

Carl and Carol pulled the gate open as they arrived. The two watched the vehicles in trepidation.

Nye stepped off the bike, legs numb and unsteady from the bike's vibrations. Daryl silently helped her stay upright.

A large percentage of the group was outside, waiting for Rick's news.

Their leader got out of the car, took a look around, and nodded to the prison.

"Let's get inside."

Once inside, everyone stood in a rough circle around Rick. The only ones sitting were Beth, who held Judith, and Mason.

Rick looked to the floor, thinking things over. When he raised his head, it was with a cold look in his eyes.

"So, I met this Governor. Sat with him for quite a while."

"Just the two of you?" Merle asked suspiciously.

"Yeah."

Merle shook his head ruefully, walking closer to Daryl. "Should have gone when we had the chance, bro."

Rick ignored him. "He wants the prison. He wants us gone. Dead."

Nye frowned, putting her hands on top of Mason and Toby's heads.

"He wants us dead for what we did to Woodbury." Rick told them, shifting his stance. He looked each one of them in the eye, before saying,

"We're going to war."

There were several sharp inhales, as well as guns being picked up, at Rick's announcement.

Rick left the cell-block, Hershel following behind.

Nye bit her lip, compulsively toying with her goggles. Until Toby reached up and untangled the mess of fingers, goggles, and hair.

She looked down at them. Taking comfort in how heavily armed they appeared to be, as well as the torso body armor they both wore now. Even while inside the prison.

"I'm... gonna talk to Rick."

The brothers shared a glance, before Toby nodded bracingly. "Okay, we'll... do something while you're gone."

After a quick peck on both boys' cheeks, Nye followed where she saw their leader and doctor go.

Hearing muffled voices coming from the outdoor catwalk, Nye jogged over. As she was seconds away from stepping outside, Rick said something that stopped her cold in her tracks.

"He gave me a choice."

Her brows furrowed, and she leaned herself against the wall as she eavesdropped.

"A way out."

"What does he want?" She heard Hershel inquire.

Rick sighed.

"...Michonne."

Nye slapped her hand over her mouth, staring blankly at the space in front of her with wide eyes.

"He'll kill her." Hershel told him.

"And then kill us anyway." Rick agreed.

Nye began to relax slightly, assuming that Rick had ruled out the deal completely.

"...What if he doesn't?"

Tensing even worse than before, Nye stared at the wall in front of her in horror.

"What if this is the answer?"

"Why didn't you tell them?"

"They need to be scared."

"They are."

"Good...'Cause that's the only way they'll accept it."

Nye swallowed dryly, forcing her legs to carry her away from Rick and Hershel before they caught her.

When she was back in the cell-block, and caught sight of everyone preparing, she knew she wouldn't be able to bring herself to say anything, not yet.

Rick was right about something. It was good to be afraid. Fear was always the best motivater.

But when Michonne caught sight of her, giving her a nod. Nye had to look away, stomach turning.

She may not say anything, but the second Rick made a move, she would be on him, and the dumbass deal, in a heartbeat. Michonne was one of them now. No way was she letting Rick trade the woman's life away.

In her determination to do the right thing, Nye unknowingly committed herself to a fate laced in blood.

IMPORTANT. PLEASE READ.

So, short chap, I know. But, what if I told you, that the next one, is the season finale, AND, is almost eleven thousand words long.

Yeah, the next one is... it's huge. it is hands down the most important, and plot shifting chapter to date. In fact, I foreshadowed it, in CHAPTER ONE. It's a long time coming.

Basically, here's a little background on things. There was a single scene that popped into my head, that was the catalyst for EVERYTHING. Nye, Mason, Toby, Shepherd, all of my original ideas for this story, were built around that scene. I wrote this story, because I saw in my head, a crazy, intense scene, with a nameless girl at the center of it. Not long after, she had a name. Then two kids. And finally, a story.

And now here we are. So, I'm incredibly excited. This is the turning point for so many things. Namely, Nye and Daryl's relationship being one of them. Here we go.

(The cover imagine is also getting a makeover with the next chapter as well.)