Tristan awoke the next morning, to rustling from the left side of her bed. She immediately sat up, holding her knife to the throat of-

"Daryl?" She questioned, her eyebrows furrowed, as she looked at the man, with the look of a deer caught in headlights.

"Did I scare ya?" He asked, pulling backwards so the blade wasn't near him anymore.

"Nah, just wasn't expecting it," she brushed off, tucking the knife beneath her pillow. She looked behind her, to see Merle's bed empty. "He's already out?"

Daryl shrugged, looking at the bed too before moving to his eyes to lay on her. She then turned to look at him, and he diverted his gaze to his crossbow that he had decided to clean.

"What time is it, roughly?" She asked, pulling on her plaid shirt, and tugging on her boots.

"About eight, maybe nine," Daryl replied, gruffly.

"What's up with you this morning?" Tristan asked, frowning as she looked at her friend, who seemed to be ignoring her as best as he could.

"Just sumthin' Merle said."

"Well, whatever it was, ignore him. He's not worth it," Tristan grinned, standing up and pressing a kiss to the top of his head before making her way outside.

The brunette stretched out her limbs, letting out a soft groan and smiled happily as she looked around the camp. A young Asian male, around the age of 20, was making his way towards her.

"Uh, hi," he greeted, a small blush rising to his cheeks. "I'm Glenn."

"Well, hello, Glenn," she beamed, her hands resting on her hips. "I'm Tristan. Lovely to meet you."

"Shane sorta wanted me to come and find out if you are okay? Settling in and stuff," he smiled sheepishly, lifting up his cap and running his hands through his hair nervously.

"We've settled in just fine, except I have no idea where-"

"Aw, c'mon, sugartits. Ya know ya want ta go," Merle's voice sounded in her ears, and she pointed off in the direction he was in before going over.

"Never in your wildest dreams," the blonde from last night replied, pulling a face.

"Playing nice, Merle?" Tristan asked, her eyebrows raised as she looked at the older Dixon.

"Aw, ya know me, Tris. Nicest guy 'round."

"Yeah, I do know you. Now, get out of here. Leave the ladies alone, and stop pissing off Daryl, alright? Sick of you guys already," she laughed, pushing Merle away. "You two argue more than a pair of pussies."

Merle howled, gripping his chest as if someone had stabbed him in the heart, "Oh, ya words, they wound me."

Tristan laughed, as he made his way over the tent once more as Daryl exited from inside, his crossbow slung over his shoulder. Tristan's eyes were trained on him, as he jerked his head to the trees behind him. She held up two fingers, and he nodded in reply, just as she turned to the blonde that Merle had been winding up.

"Sorry 'bout him," Tristan apologized. "I'm Tristan."

"Andrea, and it's fine. Just keep him on a tighter leash, if you are gonna be fucking them both."

With that, Andrea stormed away, and Tristan was left to stand there, confused as she thought over what Andrea had said. Daryl's telltale whistle pulled her from her thoughts, and she made her way over to him.

"What was that 'bout?" He asked her as she approached, holding out her machete for her to take.

"Apparently they all think I'm sleeping with you and Merle," Tristan rolled her eyes, wrapping her hand around the handle of her machete. "But first off, ew. Merle isn't my type, at all. And second of all, what's it to do with them anyway."

Daryl shrugged, jerking his head to the trees again and she nodded, and together they made their way to the treeline.

They had been with the group outside of Atlanta for a week now, and between Daryl and Tristan, they had managed to relocate them to a Quarry not far from where they were originally based. Because, as Tristan pointed out, other groups of survivors and large groups of dead could stumble across them easily. So currently, the large group of survivors were settling themselves in on the cliffside, looking over the Quarry. Tristan, however, was sat on the rocky bed beside the Quarry, with her feet resting in the water.

"Careful, princess. We 'ave ta drink dat water," Merle's voice washed over her, and she broke out into a grin as she turned to look at him.

"Heard you are going into the city." Her eyebrow raised into an arch, as she awaited for his confirmation at the rumor she had heard.

"I am, princess. Want me ta get ya anythin'?"

"How about, come back alive? Andrea isn't exactly impressed that you are going," Tristan informed her friend, as she tugged her knees to her chest.

"Tough shit, one of us has ta go, and Darlina wouldn't. And he wouldn't let ya either."

"Just ignore her, please?" Her hands came together in a praying motion, as she pouted up at him. "I really want you to come back."

"Ya, whatever," Merle rolled his eyes, as he crouched down to her level. "Stay around the women, a'right? Don't trust these little boys, and Darlina plans to go out on a long hunt."

"I could just go with him?" Tristan suggested, with a shrug of her shoulders. She wasn't against hunting, it was more she got bored easily. Especially seeing as she couldn't use her preferred weapon of choice. Her rifle.

Merle mused over the thought, before giving her a shrug in reply. He ruffled her hair, with a toothy grin before making his way back up to the cliff side.

Tristan was perched on the trucks tailgate as she watched the brothers talk quietly just a few feet in front of her. Daryl nodded his head, raising it to look at Merle, as the elder one reached over and squeezed his shoulder with a grin on his lips.

"An' take good care of our Tris," she heard Merle say, and a smile spread across her lips.

"Don't need ta remind me, Merle," he mumbled, shaking his head as he glanced at the mentioned female.

"Reckon I'll be the one looking after him!" Tristan grinned, gently nudging Daryl with her foot.

"Be careful," Merle said to her, stepping closer as he dropped his voice and moved to cup her face between his hands.

"Always," she whispered, nodding her head with a smile. "Behave yourself."

"Always," he replied, giving her a toothy grin and she slapped his arm playfully.

She climbed off the tailgate and followed the brothers over to the group that were leaving for Atlanta, Merle nodded his head at the pair of them before walking off with the rest of the group. Tristan let out a shaky sigh, her fingers wrapping around Daryl's as she watched the man she saw as an older brother walk away from them.

"C'mon, let's go back to the tent," Daryl mumbled softly in her ear as he pulled her closer, walking over to the tent.

Her head nodded slowly as she buried it in his chest, her fingers curling into the back of his vest as she walked with him. The tears started falling as soon as they were away from sight of the group and in the comforts of their tent. Daryl squeezed her arm gently as he sat beside her on her bed, trying to comfort her as best as he could.

"He'll come back, Tris, ya know him," Daryl muttered into her hair. "It's tha' others ya should be worried about."

"I am," she admitted, wiping away her tears as she breathed out slowly. "If they don't come back, they'll blame it on Merle," she told him, biting down on her lower lip. "On us."

"We'll find a new camp if that happens," he assured her, nodding his head as he held her close. "But Merle is coming back, he enjoys annoying me too much."

Tristan let out a soft laugh at that, nodding her head in agreement as she looked up at the younger Dixon.

"Now, c'mon. I wanna go hun'ing."