AN: Here we are, another chapter here.

I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!

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Carol held onto Andrea as the woman dealt with the initial wave of shock that threatened, first, to take her off of her feet and, secondly, to send her retching a few feet away. Carol followed after her, offering a comforting hand on her back as she emptied her stomach of the remainders of her last meal and the water that she'd consumed in the meantime.

"What happened?" Carol asked, putting the words out there for Andrea who, at the moment, wasn't in any condition to ask them. "Was it—Walkers?"

"He's dead," Andrea said, spitting for the final time and standing to wipe her arm across her mouth in the absence of anything else that she could use to clean herself. "Oh my God! He's dead!"

Carol didn't fault the woman at all for the clear case of shock that was keeping her from digesting information smoothy and easily. Instead, she kept an arm on Andrea's shoulder to ground her.

"He's not dead," Jacqui said quickly, stepping toward them but still keeping her distance. She held up her hands in a show of false surrender.

"He's not dead?" Andrea asked, every bit as confused as Carol felt.

"Where is he?" Carol asked.

"Look," T-Dog blurted quickly, "it was an accident. I swear it! I didn't mean to drop the key and then—they were ready to go. We had to get out of there fast before they closed in on us. There wasn't time to figure out what to do. I swear—it was an accident."

T-Dog's tone made it clear that he was being sincere, but Carol wasn't sure exactly what he was being sincere about. Andrea, beside her, wasn't sure either. Carol tightened her fingers on her sister-in-law's shoulder.

"What was an accident?" Carol asked. "T? What happened?"

"He didn't do it," Jacqui said, practically putting her body between the spots where T-Dog and Carol and Andrea stood. "It wasn't his fault. It was just an accident."

"Where's my husband?" Andrea asked. Carol heard her breath start to rasp as panic rose.

Dale and Amy came quickly, with Sophia just behind them, starting to close in. Carol held a hand out in Dale's direction and he wrapped Amy in his arms to keep her from coming any closer, and he hugged Sophia to him with the other arm.

"Where's Merle?" Andrea asked, loudly and a little more hysterically. "Where's my husband?"

"You gotta calm down, OK?" T-Dog said, holding his hands out toward Andrea as a sign of surrender and peace. "You gotta calm down and—we can talk about this."

"Where's Merle!" Andrea barked back, desperately. Her voice rang in Carol's ears and Carol winced at the sound.

The new person that had arrived and garnered some interest from Lori and her family, stepped forward. He was wearing a police uniform, complete with badge. Carol recognized, immediately, the way that he carried himself as that of a police officer. She'd had quite a bit of dealings with them, after all, as a long-term abused wife. Their help had been limited, really, but they'd always approached her the same way, promising what they never delivered.

Life as a Dixon, too, meant that there had been more than one time that a police offer had shown up to her door—usually at some ungodly hour—often looking for Merle or reporting something about the man when Andrea couldn't be easily located.

The man approached Andrea like someone about to try to tackle a wild animal. Andrea turned her body, keeping herself squared with the police officer.

"Where's my husband?" She asked, one more time. This time, her voice cracked slightly and a keening sound broke through at the end.

"I can explain what happened," the man said. "My name is Rick."

"I don't give a shit who you are!" Andrea snarled. "Where's Merle?"

Rick nodded his head, slowly and calmly.

"He was out of control," Rick said. "He was—argumentative. Confrontational. He was insulting people and threatening them."

"Was it drugs?" Carol asked quickly.

"It may have been," Rick said.

"It was something, maybe," Jacqui offered softly from where she was standing with T-Dog. "But it wasn't as bad as it has been."

"Where is he?" Andrea asked, bouncing on the balls of her feet. She appeared, to Carol, to be much like a child that was minutes from having some sort of tantrum.

"I needed to keep him under control," Rick said. "Safe. For me. For everyone. For him, even. I—subdued him. Handcuffed him to a pipe on the roof of the department store."

"Why isn't he here?" Andrea asked. "Why—where? Please?"

"Andrea?" Daryl called out, drawing everyone's attention in his direction. "What the hell is goin' on? I heard Andrea—cryin'. Is it Merle? What the fuck happened?"

Daryl came crashing out of the woods very much like a Walker himself. He was moving as quickly as he could under the burden of the deer that he carried across his shoulders. The animal easily weighed a hundred and forty pounds if it weighed anything at all. Daryl shucked it off as soon as he was in the clearing of the camp, and he let the animal fall to the ground before he double-timed his steps in the direction of the gathered group.

"She OK?" He asked, immediately stepping into Carol's line of sight.

"She's fine," Carol assured him, her heart squeezing at the simultaneous appreciation of how much Daryl loved his family—all of it—and the concern over how he was going to take the next bit of information.

"Merle…" Andrea said, her breath catching.

"Where is he?" Daryl asked, his voice rising at the end. "He dead?" Carol was already shaking her head.

"Rick was just explaining that—Merle had some kind of fit," Carol said.

"The hell do you mean 'fit'?" Daryl asked, directing his question at Rick.

"Could've been drugs," Rick said. "Look—he was irrationally angry. Argumentative."

"Rick showed up shooting at Walkers," Glenn said quickly. Carol could hear the tremor in the young man's voice as he anticipated that there might be trouble. He hated conflict of any kind. He was a natural born lover of peace and tranquility—something that was hard to come by these days. "He got himself stuck in a tank. I saved him. Got him out of trouble. But it stirred the Walkers up."

"That's what we were trying to radio to tell you all," Jacqui said. "They surrounded the department store. We thought we weren't going to get out."

"We had to go through a whole thing to even get out of there alive," T-Dog said.

"When I got up on the roof," Rick said, "Merle was having a fit. He was yelling. Threatening. He threatened me. He wouldn't be calmed down by anybody."

"Sounds to me like he had a fuckin' right!" Daryl barked. "Sounds like you damn near got everybody killed! Where the hell is he?"

"I subdued him," Rick said.

"The hell does that mean, exactly?" Daryl asked. "Where the hell is my brother?"

"Daryl," Carol said, trying to ground him from a distance while keeping her hand on Andrea's shoulder to ground her. The noises that she was making suggested that breathing wasn't coming as easily for her as it once had.

"He knocked him down," Glenn said. "To keep him from fighting with anyone. You know how Merle can be when he gets wound up. He was ready to fight with everyone. He knocked him down with the butt of the gun. Handcuffed him to the roof. It was just supposed to be until he calmed down."

"Is he calm now?" Daryl asked. "Where the fuckin' hell is my brother! Did you kill him?"

"He's fine," Rick said. "I left the key with T-Dog. It got lost. He dropped it."

"Dropped it? Why the hell didn't you pick it the fuck up?" Daryl asked.

"It was an accident," T-Dog responded. "I mean it. I didn't mean to drop it. It went down a pipe. I couldn't reach it."

"We had to go. The—Walkers. They were everywhere. We couldn't wait."

"You son of a bitch!" Andrea barked. Carol felt as she pulled loose from her fingers and flung her body at Rick. She surprised him, and her full weight took them both to the ground. In a move that was faster than Carol might have predicted she'd be able to pull off, Andrea had drawn the gun from her holster that she was wearing at her hip. She'd worn the pistol for most of the day, choosing to keep it near her for a feeling of security while Merle was away from the camp.

Now she pointed the gun at Rick's head as she rested her full body weight on top of him.

Everyone started to close in a little, surprised.

"We oughta kill you!" Andrea growled at Rick. "Because of you—I lost my husband!"

Rick hadn't fought against Andrea. He laid on the ground, her body on top of his, with his hands up in surrender. He didn't have to stay there long, though, because the final words out of her mouth took Andrea's resolve. She half collapsed, and Daryl stepped forward and gathered her up. He took the pistol from her hand as he pulled her to her feet.

"Take the safety off next time," he said, quickly showing Andrea what he meant before he returned the gun to her holster for her.

Rick got up when a hand was offered to him by Shane. Rick nodded his head at Shane, and then at Daryl. He looked at all of them, his eyes darting quickly around. He was prepared for another attack.

"Let me get this straight," Daryl said, speaking to Rick as he let go of Andrea and pushed her in the direction of Dale, Sophia, and Amy. "Just—let me fuckin' process this. You handcuffed my brother to a roof?"

"He was out of control," Rick said.

"And you left him there?" Daryl asked.

"There was nothing we could do," Rick said.

"Son of a bitch!" Daryl cried; his battle cry was the same as Andrea's. This time, when he threw himself at Rick, Rick was prepared and he met Daryl instead of being knocked down by him. He tried to block him, but Daryl's adrenaline, or simply his strength, kept Rick from successfully stopping him. Shane stepped in and, catching Daryl in a choke hold, pulled him backward. "Let me go!" Daryl growled. "Get offa me! Choke hold's illegal, asshole!"

Shane did let Daryl go, but only after he seemed sure that Daryl had a moment to calm down. He let go of his throat, but he kept his hands on Daryl's shoulders to make sure that he didn't launch himself at Rick again.

"There was nothing we could do!" Rick said, this time loudly and more forcefully. "We had to get the group out of there. The whole group. Before everyone got surrounded again and everyone was lost. Your brother—Merle—made his choice when he was out of line!"

"Man—fuck you!" Daryl spat. "Just—tell me where the hell he is. So I can go get him."

"I'll go with you," Rick said. "I didn't mean for this to happen. I handcuffed him. I'll go with you to get him."

"We'll go with you," Glenn said.

"I'll go, too," T-Dog offered. "I dropped the key. That was on me. Man—I swear I didn't mean to drop it. I locked the door, though. On my way off the roof. I locked it and chained it with the chains that were up there. Padlocked it. Even if the Walkers got into the department store, they couldn't get to him."

"He's alive and he's safe," Rick said.

"And it's a couple hours round fuckin' trip!" Daryl spat. "And he's handcuffed to a fuckin' roof in the Georgia sun, you asshole!"

"We can go get him," Rick said. "We'll need bolt cutters—something to cut through the chains."

"With just the four of us, it'll be quick in and out to get him," Glenn said.

Andrea had practically wrapped herself around Amy, at this point, and she was caressing her little sister's hair in a way that was probably more soothing for Andrea than it was for Amy.

"Daryl…" she said, as soon as he stepped in front of her. The one word, along with her tone of voice, said everything she wished to convey to him.

"I'ma get him," Daryl said. "Bring him back."

"So, everyone just goes out there again?" Lori barked quickly. "Leaves the camp half guarded and goes back out there where—you tell us you hardly escaped? What about when it gets dark?"

"We'll be back before then," Glenn said.

"Especially if we get the fuckin' lead out!" Daryl barked. "Get the damn tools and let's go! He don't need to be exposed on that roof no damn longer'n he has to be. Sun like that'll make him go fuckin' mad!"

Lori launched herself at Rick, this time, and started demanding that he not go. Daryl ignored her pleas to Rick and walked off, gathering up tools with T-Dog from the nearby area where they stored their things. He threw the tools in the back of the van that they would take back to Atlanta, and then he walked over and kissed Carol with a great deal of intensity—she could practically feel all of his emotions buzzing around in his body.

"You take care," he said. "Be careful an' watch out for Sophia. Keep Andrea from losin' her damn mind, if you can."

Carol smiled at him.

"You don't worry about things here," she offered. "You just worry about making it back to me, OK?"

Daryl nodded.

"Love you," he said.

"Love you," Carol echoed. She gave him another smile. That was the only way she wanted to send him off—with a smile. She walked the long way around the group and pulled Sophia into her, tugging her away from Dale who had dropped a protective arm over the girl when he'd released Amy to her sister's caresses.

"No, he's not going," Lori said as Daryl walked toward where she was standing with Rick. Daryl smirked at her.

"Oh—he's fuckin' goin'," Daryl said. "This was his whole fucked up plan in the first place, Princess. Only fuckin' fair he sees it through to the end."

Rick accepted Daryl's words with a nod, and he kissed Lori goodbye. Carol watched, with the rest of them, as they loaded up the van and left—headed back the way they'd come. She didn't miss the absolute look of bitter anger that Lori tossed at her and Andrea both—and she didn't really care.

The only thing she cared about was keeping her family members safe, and seeing that van return, hopefully soon, with the rest of them.