This is just a fluffy in between chapter, but I think it's a really good friendship developer. I'm getting really into my OC, and I hope you are too. Leave me a review please. Seriously. Please?

Nicole POV

"So say we up and left this town, and turned the whole world upside down. We'll make pretend that you and me lived ever after happily."- House of Gold, Twenty-One Pilots

I swung my axe hard, plunging it straight into the walker's skull. Guts sprayed all over my already dirty jeans. The body crumpled to the ground, falling on the top of the pile that had already formed. The others each took down another walker, using their own weapon of choice to take out their target.

There were five of us out here, T, Andrea, Daryl, Shane, and I. We had been at this for the past for the past few hours, driving around in Hershel's pickup, with three of them in the actual cab, and Daryl and I in the bed. We had gone everywhere in a 10 mile radius of the farm and slaughtered every walker that we had come across. The sun was low in the sky at this point, and we had accumulated quite the pile of bodies in the bed. Daryl and I were sitting there, legs dangling over the back of the truck, swinging with the motion, weapons at the ready in case any of the walkers hadn't actually been taken care of.

"I think that's our last bout for the day." Shane grunted, tucking his knife back in his belt. "Let's load 'me up and get back to the farm." As we had been doing all day, Shane slid both of his arms underneath the walker he had downed and picked it up, trudging towards the truck. T-Dog followed, picking up his, then Daryl, then Andrea. I was left with my walker, and I rolled my eyes at the irony. The walker I had taken down had to be at least 270 pounds of what used to be muscle. Considering my size, picking this guy up was not going to be easy, but I shook off the uncertainty and squatted down and slid my arms under him. Slowly, I pushed myself up, using all the strength I had. A grunt came through my lips as the weight of the walker pulled me forward, threatening to make me fall on my face.

"Woah, woah. Slow down there." Daryl ran over to me, steadying me with his hand. "Let me help."

"I'm fine Daryl. I can do it myself." I huffed, readjusting my grip. The movement caused me to lurch forward. Daryl instantly ran around me and reached his arms out, taking the weight of the walker. I gave him a sheepish grin. "Thanks." I mumbled, looking away sheepishly.

"No problem." He chuckled. "Let's get this bastard to the truck." I nodded and we started walking sideways towards the pick up, where the others were standing, waiting. When we reached the back of the truck, we swung our arms and tossed the body in the truck. It landed on the pile with a sickening squishing noise.

"Let's head on back." Shane said, throwing the door open. T and Andrea jumped in, and Daryl climbed up into the bed. Slowly, I pulled myself up beside him, turning so my I was leaning against the side of the bed. When the truck jolted and began to move, a limp hand flopped out of the pile. And I mean an hand. It was just a singular, dismembered hand.

"How nice." I grunted, picking it up by the thumb. I held it out in front of me, sighing as I tossed it back on the pile. When I settled back in I realized that Daryl was staring blankly at the hand with a look of…...was that sadness? His eyes were clouded and distracted. He stared on like this for a few minutes, before I started to get really creeped out.

"Daryl?" I called.

"Huh?" His head snapped over, turning to face me. His eyes refocused on the world at hand.

"You alright?" I asked.

"What? Huh? Yeah. Yeah I'm fine." He stuttered out, tripping over his words. His southern drawl tended to throw people off. I'd heard almost every single person at the camp call him a redneck, all except for Carol and Rick. Personally, I like his accent. I had one too, just not nearly as thick.

"Then why were you staring at that hand like it was a picture of the girlfriend that left you for a better man?" I raised an eyebrow, crossing my arms.

"Oh...uh.." He looked away, sighing dejectedly.

I could tell he didn't want to talk about it all that much, and trust me, I understood that. "Sorry. It's none of my business." I added quickly.

"No, no. It's fine." He shook his head, turning back towards me. "It's just uh….. it's my brother."

"You have a brother?" I asked. This surprised me. He seemed like the only child, loner type.

"Yeah. Merle." He nodded. "He's a bit older than me, practically raised me when my mom died and my dad was off on a bender. Not exactly the best role model. He was the example of white trash, drug addict, sexist, racist, abrasive. He was an asshole, but he was my brother, and I loved him. He was all I had left in the world, the only family member that I had. When this whole shit storm started, he was with me. We found the group together. Hunted and stuff. Well, I hunted. Merle mostly just pissed off the rest of the group."

"Sounds like me and Shane." I chuckled. "Except, instead of drugs, my brother's just an asshole. And instead of racist, he's just an asshole. And sexist…. okay he is a little sexist at times...but, anyway. Sorry, I'm rambling." I composed myself, returning my gaze to the hunter across from me. "What happened to him?"

"We were camped out near a quarry, a few miles outside of Atlanta. We sent a group in to get supplies, Glenn, Andrea, T, guy named Morales, woman named Jacqui, and Merle. I went off on a hunt. When I came back, the group had too. I looked around for my brother, and this guy came out of nowhere, telling me they left Merle in Atlanta." He smirked at me. "That guy was Rick."

"They left him there?" I gasped, leaning forward.

"They didn't mean to." Daryl explained. "Merle was bein' an asshole and Rick had clocked him, then cuffed him to the roof. The building they were in was surrounded. They had to cover themselves in walker guts just to get out of there and get vehicles. They had to get out in a hurry, and T was in charge of uncuffin' him. Then…" His voice broke off, his hands shaky. "Then he tripped, and the key…. the key went down the drain."

All the color drained from my face. "Oh god." I whispered. "He died, cuffed to a roof in Atlanta?"

"T padlocked the door, so no walkers could get to him." Daryl said. "Then, Rick, T, Glenn, and I went back to the city to get him. You know Rick, always bein' the hero. But when we got back to the roof….. Merle wasn't there." I leaned back, thoroughly intrigued by this story. "All that was there was a bloodied hacksaw…. and a hand."

"Holy mother of god." I hissed, my head reeling. "He cut his hand off to get off that roof?"

"Yeah. We followed the trail as far as we could, but he was gone. And now, now I have no idea where he is, or if he's alive or dead."

I nodded. That's exactly how I had felt about Shane right after this had all started. "So, he's Schrodinger's Cat." I breathed.

Daryl looked at me with extremely confused eyes. "Whose what?"

"Schrodinger's Cat." I spoke up. "You have heard of Schrodinger's cat, right?" I raised an eyebrow. He shook his head, looking a bit sheepish. I sighed, rolling my eyes. "He was a scientist. He put this cat in a box, and left it untouched for a while. During that time, nobody knew if the cat was alive or dead. But, since the cat was alive when it had been put in, technically it was still alive the entire time it was in the box, that is until they opened it and saw it was dead. Even though it had been dead for sometime, it was in a state of being alive and dead at the same time. Because they couldn't see it, and nobody knew what exactly was happening with the cat, it was still alive in their mind, even though it was actually dead." I explained.

"I still don't understand." Daryl grunted.

"What I mean is; maybe it's good to not know where he is. Because, until you know where he is and how he is, he could be anywhere, in any shape. He could be with a group, living in a safe, fenced in community, or with a group of friends he found. Your brother can be just as good as you want him to be. The only time that has to change is when you peek into the box, when you actually get some answers."

He nodded slowly, fiddling with a dull knife. "Ya know, in a weird way, that makes a ton of sense." He grinned a little at me. "Th-"

"We'll be there in a few!" Shane rough voice cut him off mid word. With no response, Shane yelled again. "Ya here that Backwoods?"

I cringed at the rude nickname, but Daryl just groaned. "Ya. We got it Officer Asshat." He looked back at me, smirking a little. "So anyway, I was-"

"Why do you talk to me?" I cut him off, and I instantly regretted it. I had just spouted the first thought that had popped into my head, and that just proved that I had no filter. I mentally curse myself out.

"What the hell?' Daryl asked, his eyes turning to slits. His face had morphed from a goofy smile into a look of anger. The drastic change in his demeanor made me cringe, but I continued anyway.

"Why do you talk to me? When anyone else in camp tries to talk to you, you grunt. You ignore them, you get quiet, you walk away, or you tell them to go fuck themselves. You don't interact with them. You sleep far away, you go off and hunt alone. Hell, you barely eat with them. You've been with them for weeks and you still don't like them. Why the hell do you talk to me?"

He looked at me, and I was relieved to see that the anger on his face had simmered down. His eyes were still harsh, but the rest of his face was softened, or as softened as Daryl Dixon ever got. He stayed silent, avoiding eye contact with me.

"Daryl?" I pressed, leaning forward.

"I….I don't really know, honestly." He sighed. He looked up at me, his face unreadable. "You're just, you're easy to talk ta'. I don't know why though. I mean, for all purposes, you should be the worst person to talk to. Hell, you were raised by Shane….. and Lori. You should be an annoying asshole. But, but you're not. You keep your distance from the rest of them, you go out hunting, you're smart, you're sarcastic, you're strong, you're independent, your beau-" He cut himself off immediately, looking up at me. I leaned back, trying to hide the rising blush. He had almost called me beautiful. He had come so close. I could feel his embarrassment, but he just shook his head and continued. "You know how to use almost every weapon out there, and you survived weeks of the apocalypse by yourself. That's why you're easy to talk to. You're not like the others. You're not co-dependent, you don't need to be surrounded by other people for survival. I guess that's why I talk to you, you're the most like me." He finished, still trying to keep his face still.

"Is that supposed to be a complement?" I raised an eyebrow, chuckling sarcastically.

He looked at me, eyes wide. "I..uh….I...I just-uh….I mean…"

I laughed. "I'm going to take it as a complement." I shot him a gentle smile, placing a hand on his knee. "Thanks for telling me the truth."

Suddenly, the truck slammed to a stop, sending me flying off the back, and making me land on my face on the dirt road.

"Ow." I groaned.

Behind me, I heard a chuckle. Slowly, the chuckle turned into a full blown laugh. I lifted my head and looked behind me, rolling my eyes at what I saw. Daryl was standing up off the back of the truck, slinging his bow over his shoulder. His face had morphed from the stone wall of emotionless to a look of happiness. He had on the biggest smile I had ever seen Daryl wear.

"Shut up Daryl." I joked.

"That was amazin'." He breathed, wiping his eyes with the back of my hand.

"You suck." I rolled my eyes, rolling onto my back, so I was facing him. I reached a hand into the air. "Help me up you asshole."

"Fine, but I'm never letting you forget that." He grabbed my head and yanked me up, almost throwing me against the truck. I was so much smaller than him, and he was so muscular that I was like a rag doll in his hands.

With the force of the pull, I fell straight into Daryl's chest.

'Woah, stand much?" He joked, looking down at me, smirking.

"Shut up." I grinned, looking up at him. My breath hitched when I realized just how close our faces were. They were only inches from each other. I could feel his breath on my face. The warmth of his strong arms wrapped around me was comforting. It was nice. It felt safe.

It felt…...right.

We made direct eye-contact, and suddenly the reality of the awkwardness of the situation kicked in, and we both instantly pulled away from each other. Both of us were sputtering random awkward things like "Oh, sorry. Sorry bout that. Oh sorry."

We both looked away, our faces on fire.

"You two alright back there?" A voice called. I turned to see Andrea standing there, hands on her hips.

"Oh. Yeah." I answered, nodding a little too aggressively.

"Alright then." Andrea smirked, cocking an eyebrow.

"What?" I asked. "What is it?"

"Oh nothing." She shrugged, turning away, hands on her hips. She walked away, he hips swishing with every step. I could practically feel her smirking at us.

Oh, whatever.

What does she know?

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