She'd been scared of Daryl, sure, plenty of times in just a short period. Had good reason and she knew, Daryl Dixon was dangerous, just like his brother but yet so different and she didn't really comprehend just how different. But she was slowly starting to get the picture.

They'd gotten back to camp nearly an hour ago, Daryl spitting venom because they had lost the deer he was tracking. Of course, Marcine didn't really care about the deer when she realized that there had been a Walker gnawing on it.

Right now. . .she'd rather cuddle with the Walker.

"Daryl calm down," Marcine tried, reaching out to place a hand on his shoulder.

The hunter whipped around, the back of his hand connecting with her cheek in a sharp crack. Marcine whipped around to the ground, holding the throbbing spot and stared up at him through her hair. He stood above her, his chest heaving and rolling before he growled and turned around, walking back towards their tents. Lori jogged over to Marcine and wrapped her arms around the young woman but she wiggled out of the spindly arms.

Sure, the struggle to her feet was a bit embarrassing but she managed, hands clenched at her sides as she stared at Rick. He was panting, blood and dirt stained shirt stretching over his chest. He looked downright terrified of the tiny woman and he should be, if she could she would kill him.

"We're going back for him," he tried, slowly.

Marcine growled, eyes darting around the expectant faces surrounding them before she focused on Rick again. "Did you ever think maybe he had people here waiting for him? Did you ever think that maybe, just maybe, there were people that needed him," her lower lip was starting to tremble.

He stared at her for a moment then looked down, shaking his head. Marcine wanted to scream, kick or attack, just do something, anything, but she couldn't. Not without the rest of the group losing their fucking minds and attacking her; the thought alone was stupid and she knew it.

Marcine ran a trembling hand through her hair and breathed in deeply through her nose, trying to calm her thrumming heart. She had to think rationally right now, she had to for Daryl. He wasn't in his right state of mind, never really was, but after the news. . .Hell he was even more unstable than before.

Marcine looked up at Rick, who was just staring at her - like he was begging her to understand his perspective. But she wouldn't. She turned around on her heel, eyes sweeping around the people staring at her, and started back towards their tent. Rick swallowed thickly and looked over at his wife, feeling his heart inflate even after everything. He'd been to Hell and back to find Lori, but she almost looked disappointed at him.

"What is. . ." He trailed off.

Lori shook her head and steered him back in the direction tent, catching Shane's eyes for a moment. "Daryl and Merle found her somewhere down the road, when she got here she was nothing but skin and bones," Lori paused, listening to the rustle of the wind around the. "She went straight to them two and asked them to help her learn to survive and they were teaching her," Lori ducked into the tent as Rick held open the flap. She sat on her 'bed' and Rick sat beside her, threading his fingers with hers and resting their hands on his thigh. "They. . .they tell her what to do and she does it. . .she even killed someone at their call."

Lori could remember that night all too well. She was glad for it in a way, Ed was a pig and he deserved to be punished; it was still disturbing remembering the look on Marcine's face. Carol and Sophia were happier after it and Lori was happy that she didn't have to worry about eyes on her when she bent over to do something.

She swallowed hard and rubbed her forehead. "And you saw the way he treated her and how she still defended him, went after him to I guess comfort him," she looked over at Rick. "I'm afraid he's going to hurt her if he already hasn't, more than he has by slapping her like he did. I don't want her to get hurt, I like that girl."

Rick raised her knuckles up to press his dusty lips against them. "I can tell, and I wish I could help her. But I think the only thing I can do is take her into the city to get Merle back. He's safe as can be on that roof. Nothing can get to him."

"I don't want her in the city," Lori said sternly, pulling her hand away from her husband's hand.

Rick chuckled a little, feeling his chest ache as he took in a breathe. "Listen, she needs as much closure as Daryl and getting Merle back will calm everyone down."

"Or they'll leave the group," Lori tossed out there.

Rick sighed and stood. "Yeah, there's that," don't really know if that's a bad thing. . . "but there's also the chance that they will stay with the group. Just let me do this, let us do this."

Lori looked up at him with angered eyes. She didn't want her husband going back into that city, she wanted him to stay here with her where she would at least know what happened to him if anything did. She didn't want to wonder if he was okay, she didn't want to wonder if her son lost his father again. She didn't want to sit here and wonder if she would be a widow for real. She didn't want to sit here and be hounded by Shane, who was as big of a mistake as a teenage pregnancy. She stood, rubbing her long face and stared at her confusing husband. For him to go save someone like Merle Dixon - to risk his life for someone like Merle Dixon - was painful, but she wanted Marcine happy. She didn't know what it was that made her gravitate towards the young woman so much, but she wanted her safe and happy. And if that meant letting her and Rick run off to the city and endanger their lives for someone like Merle well she would have to let them. She sighed and placed her hands on her hips, tonguing the inside of her left cheek.

"You and her are trying to give me gray hairs," she mumbled.

Rick chuckled but shook his head. "You don't need to worry about us, the others seem to think she's capable. . .we got this."

Lori didn't say anything, just watches Rick's back as he stood and ducked out of the tent. She looked down at her fidgeting hands in her lap, eventually burying her face into those hands.


"Daryl," Marcine whispered, lifting open the tent flap.

He was sitting on the bedroll, stuffing things into a bag with his back to the 'door'. She swallowed and stepped inside the tent, zipping it closed behind her and crouched down beside him. She placed a hand on his shoulder and he whipped around, pressing her into the tent floor with both hands firmly on her shoulder. He practically growled at her, teeth bared and he got close to her face, blue eyes staring into her dark ones. Marcine trembled beneath him, squirming under his grip but that only served to make him tighten his hold.

"Do not ever touch me."

She shook a little. "Daryl what the Hell is wrong with you?"

He pushed himself up using her as a support and she cried out at the pain his weight caused on her bones. He stood above her, panting and then reached down, grabbing her by her forearm and jerked her to her feet. Marcine stared up at him with wide eyes, rubbing her left shoulder; she winced. This was the second time he had hurt her in the last twenty minutes. What was going on? Could this simply be over Merle?

He cursed and turned around, crouching down to the bag he had been packing. He paused for a moment and then cursed, tossing the bag against the wall of the tent. Clothes and other things flew everywhere and Marcie squeaked, jumping back a step. He stood there for a moment, hands braced at his sides before he turned around to look at her again. She swallowed thickly as he rubbed his face.

"They fuckin left 'im behind," he muttered, placing his hands on his hips.

Marcine nodded. "And we're gonna go get him."

He looked her up and down and nodded, reaching for his crossbow that was leaning against the makeshift table in one corner of the tent. "We're going today, right now. Let's go."

Marcine nodded and her fingers ran over the handle of the machete she had strapped to her thigh. She looked back over at him and he knew the dilemma, digging into his back pocket. He passed her a pistol and she cradled it in her hands, testing the weight. It was small, nothing too dangerous, mostly for close combat but it was something that he had even given her a gun.

"I would rather just have the machete" she muttered, following him out of the tent; it was the same gun that had given her a bloody nose.

"Yeah well get over it," Daryl mumbled.

Marcine shrugged and looked up, seeing that Rick person talking to Shane and T-Dog. Rick was dressed in a cop uniform, his clean face too serious for her liking; he looked so young and fresh, too clean for this world. He looked up when he noticed them and so did Shane; he glared at Daryl and Marcine, unlike Rick who just stared. He shoved an absolutely gorgeous pistol into his gun belt and Shane growled, walking away - well more like stomped away. Rick took the few steps to clear the distance between the duo, T-Dog and Glenn following at his heels.

"We're ready to go, what about you guys," Rick asked.

Daryl and Marcine looked between each other. She knew he wanted it to just be her and him, but they would need the back up. Marcine shrugged and stepped forward a little, willing to bridge the gap between Rick and Daryl. Not because she liked the man, really, but because he had already seems to corral some of the control from Shane and it gave her butterflies; she didn't want Shane to have anything.

"We're ready to go, but why are they coming," she jerked her chin over at T-Dog and Glenn.

Rick looked over his shoulder at them and shook his head a little, looking back over at her. "Glenn is our navigation, T-Dog feels responsible."

"Because he is responsible," she growled.

T-Dog narrowed his eyes for a moment and then he sighed, making Marcine glare at him. "I didn't mean to drop the key," he defended, crossing his arms.

Marcine rolled her eyes. "Whatever, I don't care. Let's get the fuck out of here and into the city alright," she stomped past the three men.

Daryl grunted and followed behind her, pushing past T-Dog roughly. Rick stared after them and then looked over at T-Dog and Glenn. They both appeared sheepish, so Rick wasn't the only one that felt that untouched aura around the Dixon and the small woman. . .

"Guess we're leaving then. . ." Rick sighed.


"I guess the saw blade was too dull for the handcuffs."

Marcine wants to barf, hack up whatever is left in her stomach and then she wants to rip T-Dog's throat out with her teeth.

But the ties kind if hinder that plan.

They'd finally made it into the city, up to the roof top Merle was supposedly cuffed to and all they get is a fat hand rotting in the mid-day sun.

She'd went after T-Dog first, seeing as he was the one to drop the key - and then she'd gone after Rick. He'd easily incapacitated her and had Glenn tie her up with zip ties. Daryl hadn't generally protested, but the taunt of an arrow through T-Dog's skull spoke enough that if more were done, he'd willingly go out trying to kill Rick.

Daryl shakes his head softly, twisting Merle's hand and muttering something along the lines of ain't that a bitch before he folds it up in the blue rag. Glenn looks less than pleased as Daryl shoves the hand into his pack, Marcine chuckling softly despite the sick feeling in her gut.

"He musta used a tourniquet," Daryl murmurs and crouches down behind Marcine, steadying her with a heavy hand on the shoulder when she goes to lurch at Rick; he's cut her free. "Maybe his belt. . .there's be much more blood if he didn't."

And there's still a shit load of blood, Marcine side steps it as she follows behind Daryl, glaring back at Rick; he just looks down. They trail off towards an open door on the opposite side of the building, Rick pulling his gun front and center while Marcine just palms her machete; middle of the city, a gun is stupid.

Just like yelling down a foreign stair case.

"Merle," Marcine groans and reaches out to Daryl, but he just shakes her off. "You in here?!"

Its a steady procession downstairs, Marcine ending up beside Glenn. She hesitates and hs looks the same way but she gives him a small smile and hooks her arm through his.

"Sorry you have a hand in your back pack," she hums, hearing Daryl and the other two opening a door below them.

"Sorry about Merle," Glenn mumbles. "I guess."

Marcine chuckles. "I only want Merle back for Daryl," right?

"Sure seemed to be pretty angry yourself," Glenn arched an eyebrow at her but Marcine shrugged and brushed him off once they entered the department store floor.

"Acting," she chirped and raised her machete.

They trailed around the moldy clothes and towards the back of the floor and towards the offices, Marcine arching an eyebrow at the dripping jaw of what was once possibly a very pretty girl. But she collapses with an arrow between her eyes, Daryl moving fluidly to jerk the arrow from her face.

"He made a damn mess," Marcine murmured as they emptied out into a wide hallway, offices flanking them on either side. "Think he's still in the building?"

"We gon' look anyway," Daryl griped, arrow held up in place of his knife. "Now shut the fuck up."

And she did, gaining looks from the others but she didn't care. Her limbs jumped and snapped up when she heard a gurgling to her left, wincing as she hacked up through the air and got her weapon lodged deep into the Walkers skull. It dropped with a thud and Marcine braced her boot against the Walkers chest, kicking it back before she flicked the blood from the blade.

"What," she griped at Glenn and T-Dog, who were blatantly staring at her.

They just turned away. Marcine releases a heavy sigh, wrapped up in the silence and subtle thumps of everyone's boots on the itchy carpet. Clear head. . .clear head. . .yeah right.

"Had enough in em to take out these two sons 'bitches," Daryl smirked slightly as they all shuffled around two dropped Walkers.

"One handed," Marcine added, gaining a strange look from Daryl and a slightly scolding look from Rick.

Daryl hummed as he braces the head of his crossbow against the floor, pulling back the weight. "Toughest asshole I ever met, ma brother," he grunted. "Could feed him a hammer and he'd crap out nails."

Rick let his eyes flicker to Marcine, who was watching him from the corner of her eye; he looked away. "Any man could pass out from blood loss," Rick said and Marcine couldn't even find it in her to be snarky; he was right, after all. "No matter how tough he is," Rick sighed and raised his gun, pushing past Daryl.

Glenn stared down at the Walker as the others passed, Marcine giving him a shrill whistle. Glenn picked up his head and released a heavy sigh, jogging to catch up with her.

"Really think Merle's okay," he whispered.

Marcine shrugged, wagging her machete at Daryl, who was easing open the office kitchen door. "I told you, I'm here for him," she paused. "But. . .I have my own doubts."

"Merle," Daryl barked out again, stooping low as they walked around a corner.

"We're not alone here," Rick hissed in his ear. "Remember that."

Daryl didn't even spare him a side glance. "Screw that," he murmured. "He could be bleeding out you said so yourself."

Marcine opened her mouth to speak but scrunched her face up, the scent of burnt flesh becoming stronger and stronger the further they moved in. There was a small stove against the wall, little plumes of flames hissing in the air and there was Merle's belt. . .next to a scraper that had gooey, shiny flesh still charred to the surface.

Rick picked it up, his face creasing in a weird way. "What's that stuff," Glen murmured, peering over his shoulder.

Rick didn't even look up. "Skin," his voice was gruff. "He cauterized the stump," he looked over at Glenn, lips slightly pursing.

"Told you he was tough," Marcine looked over at Daryl, who was looking at Rick in a way that seemed. . .childish. "Ain't nothin that can kill Merle cept Merle."


Marcine dug her teeth into the man's hand, hearing him scream out in pain and let her arm go. She didn't let his hand go, kept a tight hold as he swung her battered body around, teeth digging into his chubby hand even as he reached up and knocked her in her head. She dug in again, feeling her teeth touch through the webbing of his thumb and forefinger. He screamed loudly and really started tossing her around, knocking her against the dumpster beside them, and finally getting her to let go.

She hit the ground with an oomph and crumpled, watching them scramble to their car, guns and Glenn in their arms. She pushed herself up sloppily, blood dripping from her narrow chin, but Walkers crowded the chain link fence and she screamed, stumbling back a few steps. Marcine stood there for a moment, watching the Walkers gnawing at the chain link and felt her heart beating in her chest. She whipped around, running over to Daryl, who was laying on the ground, groaning with his back arched in pain.

She placed both of her hands on the sides of his face, patting his cheek a little. "Daryl. . .Daryl are you okay?"

He nodded and nudged her off of him. "I'm fine, leave me alone."

She nodded and looked up, narrowing her eyes at the thin boy staring at her. She looked down her front, seeing the thick layer of blood down her front, and then she looked back at him with blown pupils. His eyes flickered up to hers again and he whimpered, scrambling to his feet but she was quicker, lighter, and she launched herself at him, successfully tackling him to the ground as Rick and T-Dog came around the corner.

She bent low, hissing in his ear. "See what I did to your friend," she licked the blood on her lips and grinned, pressing her thumb nail into his chest. "I plan on doin' worse to you."

He screamed but she clamped a hand over his mouth, pushing herself up with the nail pricking his skin. Blood was beginning to rush and stain the nail of her thumb. She wished the others could have gotten here a little slower, she wanted to have a little fun. . .

"What happened," Rick asked, jerking the boy to his feet.

"Little fucker and his buddies took Glenn," Marcine growled, jumping at the boy, who jerked in response. "Pathetic," she snapped.

"Marcine calm down," Daryl stepped up to her side.

Rick muttered a curse under his breath and then looked over at Marcine. "Think you two can go look for a safe place for us to figure out what the Hell we're gonna do?"

Marcine nodded and grabbed onto Daryl's arm. "Come on."

Twenty odd minutes later they were all sitting in an old office room, staring at the young boy with scrutinizing eyes as he ran his mouth. He thought he was some tough shit - honestly thought that all this talk he was throwing out meant something. Marcine and Daryl locked eyes and she grinned, looking back over to the boy; he tensed up, eyes focused on her when they should be focused on Daryl. Marcine laughed like a maniac when she saw the hand fly into the boys lap, flopping like a wet fish; it also hurt like Hell to see Merle's severed hand being used but seemed worth it. The boy stuttered and sort of screamed and tossed the hand somewhere else, pushing the chair he was sitting in back.

"You fuckin psycho man," he screamed a little.

Marcine and Daryl chuckled, Daryl leaning against the wall beside Marcine. "I think we should leave this group afta this," he muttered into her ear.

She shivered and tucked her ear against her shoulder for a second, looking up at him with half lidded eyes. He was smirking down at her, one eyebrow raised; he hadn't had the opportunity to make a girl do that in a long time.

"Don't get close like that again," she hissed.

He looked over at T-Dog and Rick, who were paying little to no attention to the two of them. He leaned back in, pressing his lips against the tender skin below her lobe. A shiver rocked through her and she reached up, dragging her nails across his bicep; she lacked subtlety. Her eyes stayed locked with the other three in the room, making sure they didn't turn around to see what they were doing. His tongue trailed up and down her throat, making her bite her lip to hold back the moan she wanted to give. He smirked against her throat and pulled back, straightening against the wall. She glared up at him, cheeks flushed, and all he did was smirk and run his thumb over his bottom lip.

"We have to go get Glenn."

Marcine looked over at Rick and T-Dog. "Well, let's just get it over with, I want to get back to camp," her voice had a slight tremor in it.

Rick and T-Dog shared a glance and Rick nodded. "Then let's do this," he unzipped the bag of weapons, passing out weapons. He gave T-Dog a scoped rifle, Marcine just took a few extra rounds of ammo and Daryl kept to the technical hostage. "Think you can do this," he asked Marcine.

She glared. "Let's do this," she reminded him.