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. (NO MARY SUES).

WARNINGS: Rated T for language, violence, and gore.

Things I have learned today that are also relevant to this chapter: Sometimes it is in your best interest to take the high road, even when you really, REALLY don't want to.

Two words flashed in Daryl's mind when Rick declared that he was under arrest: Merle and Atlanta. If Rick got those handcuffs on him, Daryl knew he was screwed. Rick would chain him up somewhere and leave him just like he'd done with Merle. He'd either lock him to the fence where he'd be an example to those who got out of line or deep within the prison where he'd rot away.

Rick was looking at him like he was no good for the group and they'd all be better off without him, and there was a small part of Daryl that agreed with that. Rick had fair reason to be angry with him. If it hadn't been for Daryl's fist, Carl never would have run off and gotten himself kidnapped by the Governor. He was an adult and he should have demonstrated better restraint than to resort to hitting a kid. Just because Carl started the fight, didn't mean Daryl had to participate in it.

To frustrate Daryl even farther, they had to waste all their time arguing over what to do with him. He hated being the center of attention, no matter the circumstance. They should be out on the trail trying to get a read on where the Governor was but no: They were once again too busy chasing their own tails. It was probably what the Governor wanted all along—to throw the prison into chaos. They fell right into his sick trap. There was no telling what he was doing to the kids. Carl, if he was still alive, was probably being tortured or beaten. The likelihood they had any formula on hand to feed her meant she was sentence to a slow death. Then there was Beth. She was a strong girl, but she was a girl. Daryl's face visibly soured at the thought of what the Governor or his men might do to her.

Daryl saw two options open up in front of him. The first was to take the Merle route: protest his impending arrest, waste even more time, and force a fight with Rick and any others that sided with him. Or he could go along with it, and allow the others to focus on getting the kids back. They'd be without his skills at tracking, but Glenn and Michonne had been able to bring back Carl's hat and gun so they were more capable than he initially gave them credit for.

Daryl's eyes scanned the friends gathered around him. He couldn't blame them for not rushing to his defense. They were all in uncharted territory, stress was high, and more than one life was at stake.

"Did you hear what I said?" asked Rick.

Daryl gave no indication that he heard Rick and remained motionless and quite. He was still thinking about what he was going to do. If he was going to bolt, his opportunity for escape was closing quickly.

"Rick, it had to of been an accident," said Glenn. "If we lock Daryl up, we lose the person most likely to track down the kids. You have to consider that."

"I have and my opinion on the matter hasn't changed any," said Rick. "There's too much for me to overlook. He didn't tell us about the traps. He hit Carl and didn't immediately own up to it. Because of that, my son is now with the Governor."

"Rick, we're going about this wrong," implored Glenn. "What happened to innocent until proven guilty?"

"My son was kidnapped due to something Daryl did. Do you think I can let that go or excuse it? I trust you'll understand once you have kids."

Glenn's argument was quickly deflated. As much as it pained him to sit idly by, Rick was a father scorned and in no mood to be crossed.

Once Glenn's small protest had been abated, Rick turned his attention back to Daryl. He had expected Daryl to fly off the handle like his brother had done and Rick found it slightly off-putting that Daryl was taking it so well. He probably thought it was all a joke.

"Put your crossbow down," said Rick to emphasize his point.

Again, Daryl didn't react and Rick took a step towards him.

"Daryl, you've got five seconds to put your crossbow down," Rick began to threaten, "because neither of us is going to want the alternative. You know I don't want to go there. So that's one…"

Daryl was still thinking over his next move and held tight to his bow. If he turned and ran Rick was going to be on him like shit on your best church shoes.

"Two…three…"

Was he really going to fight Rick? With so many around, it was hard to tell who was going to take whose side. It'd escalate right into a brawl and the Governor would be the ultimate winner.

"Four…I don't want to count to five Daryl."

Daryl remembered the last time Rick counted to five it ended with the death of the guy who had ambushed them back in the department store. He was serious about his countdowns.

Rick didn't want to do it, he honestly never wanted to entertain the idea of forcibly arresting someone so close to him, but Daryl was giving him no other choice. There was a collective gasp of surprise as Rick nearly threw himself at Daryl who backed away in time to avoid being tackled.

"I see you want to do this the hard way," said Rick.

"Ya never counted to five," said Daryl. Rick's anger went up another notch at Daryl's attempt at sarcasm. Daryl instantly regretted his smart tongue and cursed that small bit of Merle he had in him. To make up for his latest mistake, Daryl dropped the crossbow to the ground where the arrow was jarred free and it was rendered useless. Rick kicked the bow farther to the side with his boot and then arrow as well.

"Put your hands on your head and turn around," ordered Rick.

Daryl sighed with hesitation: It really was happening. He slowly raised his hands to the top of his head and then turned so that his back was to Rick. He immediately felt Rick rush into him and force him against the fence. His face hit the chain link and he turned his head sideways as the metal dug into him. Rick pulled Daryl's pistol away; the clip falling to the ground and the gun itself stuffed into Rick's pants. Rick's hands were then all over him searching for any more weapons. Daryl ignored their intrusive nature until they found what was once Merle's knife.

"I'm keepin' that," Daryl said so that only Rick could hear. "Ain't gonna use it."

"No you aren't," said Rick. He went to remove the knife when Daryl spun and was suddenly in his face.

"That was my brother's and I'm keepin' it," Daryl repeated. "Not gonna use it but I want it on me."

"There's no reason for you to have it…not where you're going," said Rick.

"Then I ain't goin' there."

Daryl gave Rick a decent push and stepped to the side. He hadn't been completely unarmed in a long time and it was not a welcomed feeling. Rick was probably just going to take him back to his cell and lock him in there which was walker free, but Daryl didn't like it. There was also the possibility that the Governor could attack again and he wanted something, even if it was just a knife, to be able to defend himself. Plus it was Merle's.

Rick shook his head and Daryl saw him reach for the handcuffs he kept on his belt. Daryl's fight of flight reflex kicked in and he chose flight. He broke into a run and Rick lunged after him and caught the bottom of Daryl's vest. Daryl was pulled back just enough so that Rick was able to grab Daryl's arm and slammed into him. The collision threw both men off their feet and sent Daryl to the ground with Rick on top of him. Daryl tried to rise up and throw Rick off but the sheriff pushed all his weight into him.

"NO! Stay back!" he heard Rick yell to someone out of sight. Daryl guessed Glenn or Carol, maybe Michonne was coming to help him, but whoever it was remained where they were and he was on his own.

Daryl twisted and turned under Rick and felt he was making some progress until two heavy sets of hand clamped down on his legs. He didn't know who else was helping restrain him and he attempted to get a glimpse of the person so he'd know whose ass to kick later, but Rick blocked his view.

"Son of a—" Daryl started to say and then was cut off when Rick's hand pushed his head down harder into the cement ground. He felt the man lean into him and press his elbow between his shoulder blades. Daryl had a good idea of what was going to come next and he wrested to get his arms under him. Rick's free hand snaked around Daryl's left bicep and tried to wrench it up. Both men winced at the pain the struggled caused them and Rick couldn't get Daryl's arm free.

"If you want to add resisting arrest then keep fighting," growled Rick.

"Ya best let me go," said Daryl, trying to buck both Rick and Tyreese off him.

"I can't do that," said Rick. "Now quit. I'm sure you've been in this situation before and know how it works. You probably had a pretty good record before the world ended."

Daryl's heart pounded for reasons other than those due to the altercation. No he'd never been arrested before. He'd come close to it after a few drunken bar fights but that was it. No one ever had to bail him out of jail. He didn't have court dates or probation hearings. He never had a substance abuse or anger management class. That was his brother. He'd been there when Merle got arrested on more than one occasion and it was like the police were trying to handcuff a pissed off bear.

"I ain't Merle," Daryl whispered and allowed his body to relax. He closed his eyes and let Rick do what he wanted.

Rick jerked Daryl's left arm up and onto his back. Even though he was no longer resisting, Rick held him firmly as he closed the handcuffs around Daryl's wrist. He pulled on Daryl's other arm and with several adjusting clicks from the cuffs, had him completely restrained. Rick looked down on his prisoner and then backed off him. He and Tyreese each took one of Daryl's arms and lifted him to his feet. Daryl opened his eyes and looked down. It was his first time being arrested and he was embarrassed by it. All eyes were on him and he hated it. He hated having his freedom ripped away. It was his choice though and the only way to get Rick focused on finding the kids.

"Walk," commanded Rick.

Daryl sighed but his feet started to move sluggishly.

"Faster."

"Wanna tell me where I'm goin'?" asked Daryl, his pace remaining unhurried.

"Back to C block," said Rick. "Preferably before it gets dark."

Rick gave Daryl a prod in the back to get him moving at a more acceptable rate. Turning briefly around, Daryl saw Glenn pick up his crossbow and the others of the group following behind.

Rick guided Daryl back to C block aware of the others trailing them. He really didn't want to arrest Daryl. He didn't want to be the bad guy. But Daryl had done wrong and he needed to serve as an example. They had no tolerance for those that put the group in danger. If he had seen that earlier with Mason…Rick wasn't going to go there. He couldn't live in the past. What he was going to do was lock Daryl in a cell. He was actually afraid of what he might do to Daryl if he was allowed to run free. Arresting him was the safest thing for both of them.

Rick opened the door to the cell block and thrust Daryl through it. Daryl turned and made to go up the stairs and into his cell but Rick pulled him back.

"No, not there," he said and pushed him to the door on the far side of the room.

"Rick, where are you taking him?" asked Carol.

Rick didn't answer and opened the next door for Daryl to go through. They turned down the corridor and it dawned with Daryl as to where he was going. He stopped in the middle of the hall and Rick bumped into him.

"Just a little father Daryl…"

"No," said Daryl. "I ain't gonna go rot in the tombs."

"Never said anything about rotting. It's just until I figure out what to do with you. Let's not make this into a bigger deal than it needs to be."

Daryl glared back at Rick but accepted his fate. Rick pushed him on until they were at the door of one of the solitary confinement cells. He opened the door and Daryl was allowed his first glimpse inside his new cell. It was dark, dingy, and smelled like death. There was no bed—not much of anything really. It had four walls, a deeply stained toilet, and a slit in the door to pass food through. Without needing to be told so, Daryl stepped inside.

"Gonna take these off?" he asked Rick and raised his hands that were still cuffed.

"You said you wanted your knife—and you can keep it—so the cuff s stay on," said Rick. "Food will be sent in later."

Rick slammed the door behind Daryl and locked it. He sighed and turned to the audience gathered behind him.

"He and I both need this. So I don't care if the prison is burning down, no one is to let him out until I say so."

Most the group gaped back at Rick but there was little to be done about it short of shooting the man and taking the keys from him. It sill weighed heavy on their hearts that one of their own, and Daryl at that, had to be locked away.

Night fell over the prison and with it a grim sense of despair. Daryl tried to make himself comfortable in the cell but had no luck. He was miserable, physically and mentally. There was no light and he was bathed in constant darkness whether his eyes were open or not. It was too quiet too. He'd take the crying of Judith or the squabbling from Woodbury over the desolation of his cell. He could hear everything from his heartbeat to the creaking of the prison. The emptiness of the cell about drove him out of his mind. There was nothing to distract him, other than his knife. But it was essentially useless as he couldn't draw it from its sheath. Rick had left him handcuffed and soon his arms were strained from it. He eventually laid down on his stomach to give himself a break. At some point, food and water were passed through the door but he didn't care. Daryl hardly noticed and slipped into sleep.

Thank you for all the lovely reviews. This was a little shorter but if it wasn't, it'd be so long and crazy you wouldn't believe it. Hint. Hint.