A/N: For those of you who know Walking Dead as intimately as you do Buffy, I will request you suspend your knowledge for just a moment and assume that the moon stays out for the return to the cars because, as we all know, Spike is flammable. I will fix this in the next chapter ;)

Chapter Three

His first thought when they pulled the smelly sack off his head was that Carol was going to kick his ass. Somehow he was going to get out of this shit storm, make it back to her for her to beat him around the head with something hard, then kick his ass all the way to Woodbury and back. He almost grinned at the prospect. Until his gaze fell on Merle.

There weren't enough words for him to fully describe what the sight of his own brother made him feel. He'd accepted that Merle was gone; not dead, but somehow surviving out there best he could, just like he'd been doing. If he was being honest, it struck him as a surprise that Merle had actually joined another group. Not that it looked like they were over happy with him at present. He couldn't help but wonder what his big brother had done this time for his new group to throw him under the bus. Or what appendages he'd have to lose to get himself out of it.

Merle barely acknowledged him, his expression grave and the blood stopped rushing through Daryl's head long enough for him to hear the roar of the crowd. They were a bloodthirsty bunch, that was for sure, and the one shooting off his mouth and stirring up the crowd couldn't have impressed Daryl any less if he'd tried. They wanted his death—his and Merle's—and yet Daryl didn't feel afraid. These vultures were human. Carol had survived far worse and if she could do it, then shit yeah, he'd be just fine.

When the walkers were led out and chained around the ring, Daryl started to feel a little less confident. It was almost too much for him to wrap his head around, these crazy ass people wanting another human being dead, let alone baying for his blood by way of ravenous walkers in what looked like a fucked up version of Gladiator.

"The fuck?" He turned to Merle and his stomach dropped. There was fear in the eyes of his big brother, and Daryl was sure he'd never seen anything like that before in his whole life. Merle, afraid? That was something that just never happened.

"Jus' stay close, little brother," Merle ordered, his eyes running around the crowd trying to find a way out. His gaze rested on a blonde behind the laughing madman as he announced how Daryl and he were going to die. Settled on her, then shot back to Daryl with that look of fear near capitalized with one of hopelessness.

"Ain't no way I'm dyin' today, Merle. Buck the fuck up," Daryl screamed at him, struggling anew with the ropes around his wrists. Thoughts of Carol forced him to calm down. He'd thought her dead and it was the most hollow he'd felt since the world went to shit and there was no way he was going to make her feel any of that—presuming she would feel anything about his death at all.

Daryl grunted in self-deprecation. Of course she'd feel something—they were friends after all and he knew he was important to her. She'd made it plain enough that she'd hurt should anything happen to him, just as he'd wanted to hide in a corner and stay there for days from the pain in his heart when he'd thought she was gone the same way as T-Dog.

Not today. He wasn't going to let Rick stumble back to the prison and be the one to announce to Carol and the others that he was dead.

In the end it hadn't mattered. They'd untied his hands, deciding on a Gladiator slaughter for show, but, before he'd had to fight his own brother for survival, a flurry of movement caught his attention and violence erupted around the crowd. Gun shots rang through the uproar, taking out a walker's head and Daryl hit the dirt. Rick surged through the bodies, him and Maggie shooting and killing the walkers that circled him and Merle while a small, blonde woman he'd never seen before took on the guards. He noticed she punched and snapped weapons from their hands, crippled them physically so they were on their knees and moaning in pain, but not one of them did she kill. He could appreciate the beauty of her moves, but a little death might have made Daryl feel just a bit better about it.

A flash of black and white blurred past him, Daryl slowly tracking it until his eyes rested on the Governor, now screaming as some kind of monster ripped jagged teeth through flesh. His neck gushed with blood and while Daryl watched, the Governor's body began to drop, a refusal to die glistening in his one good eye, his gun raised and aimed straight at Daryl's head. Was no way he was taking another one to the head and he dived to the side, knocking Merle's legs out from under him and grunting as his brother almost broke his ribs with the impact. He ignored Merle's belligerent attack on his less-than-smooth move as his eyes were once again drawn to the monster draining The Governor dry. The stranger let him fall, and Daryl panted with relief that the gun now dropped meaningless from his hand. The stranger wiped the blood from his lips then gave his head a little shake to settle a more human face into place. Not a walker, then, Daryl realised, though the man was some other scary kind of shit he'd yet to come across.

Merle's hand on his shoulder shook some sense back into him and they ran, Daryl snatching back his crossbow from some asshole that thought he'd had a right to shoot it. They gathered Maggie and Rick on the way through, Daryl not caring if their other saviours followed or not, despite his burning curiosity regarding the blondes that helped to save his ass. Merle led them through and out of the compound and they escaped, running without talking back to the road where they'd left the car. Only when they arrived did Daryl realise Glen had been absent from his retrieval party and one look at the Korean could see he'd not been physically up to the effort. Seemed to be up to waving a gun in his face now as he screamed at them that Merle wasn't coming back to the Prison, though.

He knew in his gut that Glenn had the right. One look at his face was enough to know Merle hadn't changed. There was pride in his work, Daryl could tell without even looking at his brother's smirking face, and his heart sunk. Thinking of Carol had given him the strength to survive his capture, but he knew without a shadow of a doubt that he'd have to leave with Merle. They didn't want to take Merle back to the prison, he understood it, but it didn't make his choice hurt any less. For the first time he could ever remember, he hated the son of a bitch he knew as brother, and wished he could leave him to fend for himself on the side of the road.

He had no choice.

"No Merle, no me," he told Rick outright and ignored Glenn's outraged, "Are you serious?" If he hadn't he might have buckled, the vision of Carol's face when he found her that day one that would haunt him for the rest of his life. He'd saved her and now he was leaving—leaving them all. These folks were his family, but Merle was blood and that had to mean something.

Rick let the argument go without a fight, turning to the others that had now infiltrated their group without any consent from him. He was looking wildly at the samurai chick, telling her she'd be leaving them as soon as she was healed and Daryl wanted to tell him he was a fool. With him leaving they'd need fighters, but reminding Rick there could be a backlash made him feel too much guilt for planning to leave in the first place.

"No." The blonde woman stepped in and Daryl could see that, even though she probably weighed less than his crossbow, she was a force to be reckoned with. Rick stopped in mid-tirade, looking dumbfounded that anyone dared to step in when he was obviously the leader and the one calling the shots.

"I'm sorry, what do you mean, no?" Rick was in her face and before Daryl could blink, the strange monster-like man with short curly hair with peroxided tips was at her side.

"Do I need to tell you 'no' again? I thought I was pretty clear."

Daryl felt like he was watching a ping pong match and that it was all about to go to shit. Merle was unnaturally quiet in the background and Daryl could have kissed him as it gave him the time he needed to sort out his head. Despite his claims, he had to make sure they'd get back to the prison safely, and as helpful as this new pair had been, he had no idea who they were or where they came from. They were strangers, and he had to protect the group first and foremost, even if he was leaving it.

"Who the fuck are you?" he demanded, ignoring Rick's angry expression.

The girl stepped toward him, tilting her head to look him up and down before extending her hand. "I'm Buffy, and you must be Daryl. This is Spike." Daryl didn't take her hand and she shrugged before dismissing him, giving him her back. He'd usually see that move as a weakness, but by the way her shadow stood, he knew this man had her back and that Daryl wouldn't stand a chance against him.

Her attention was back on Rick and Daryl watched, fascinated.

"No one is getting left behind," she said. It was an order, one that made Daryl's hackles rise.

"Hey, this is our group and Rick's the fucking leader. The fuck you are giving us orders?" He was puffed up and ready to take them on, the consequences be damned when Merle stepped up and Glenn started waving his gun around and screaming at him to back off. The black girl was there, weaving her sword at him through it all, and Daryl couldn't see anything good coming from them going back to the prison, no matter what Blondie said.

"Michonne, put it down." By some miracle the woman obeyed the blonde, lowering her weapon, though Daryl could see she didn't like it. Buffy—what the fuck kind of name was Buffy, anyway?—turned once again to Rick, softening her voice and showing him she wasn't trying to threaten him. "There is safety in numbers," she said and Daryl couldn't argue with that. "You're in a prison, right? So lock the guy up until you know what to do about him, but don't start throwing your friends away because of who they are related to. That is no way to win a war."

Daryl snorted. "An' what do you know about winning a war?"

The man she'd called Spike finally spoke, his hands buried deep inside his duster pockets. "A hell of a lot more than you, I'd wager. The chit knows all about being thrown away by her friends, too, so you should shut up and listen while she tries to save your lilly white arse."

"My ass is no concern of yours, punk. We can handle this on our own. Thanks for killing that fucker back there, but maybe it's time you both hit the road." He stepped forward, menacing them into backing away and felt a little intimidated himself when his stance had next to no effect.

"We've been on our own in Georgia, of all places, since this thing broke out," Buffy told them, her lip wobbling just a little. "I left my sister, my friends and my watcher in London while I came to search for Michonne. I don't know if Dawn is alive or dead, or if Giles managed to save anyone or even himself. Spike and I have been on the run, watching each other's backs for almost a year and I'm tired. We're going to this prison with you, and you're all going back if we have to drag you there." She looked at Merle, her lip curling in revulsion.

Spike stared at her intently, and Daryl recognised something in the other man's eyes as he tried to hide his affection for the petite badass at his side. Knowing he was being watched, he shot a look of irritation at Daryl before turning back to face Rick and thumbing at Daryl's brother behind him. "Your car is only a five-seater," he observed, an evil smile moulding his lips. "You'll have to put that one in the boot."

They both ignored the renewed objections from Glenn, Spike moving to the car to pop the lever for the trunk and heading over to grab Merle.

"No fuckin' way you puttin' me in there," Merle hissed, backing away but still looking dangerous. Spike grabbed him by the neck and lifted him off the ground, Merle's face growing red with shock and anger.

"You'll go where Buffy says you go, and not another word about it." He tossed Merle the ten yards to the car and Merle hit the road with a thump, groaning at the impact as he cracked his head.

Everyone stared, mouths hanging open, finally realising that this new man wasn't quite a man. Everyone but Michonne, Daryl noticed.

"What the fuck was that?" he asked in dismay. "An' that back in Woodbury. You fuckin' ripped out the Governor's throat like a walker. What kind of shit is this, Rick?"

Daryl took a step back toward his brother, whipping out his crossbow and pointing it at this new threat. Before he pulled the trigger, the woman was in front of him, aiming her own crossbow in his face with not even a whiff of fear.

"Spike is a vampire. He has a soul and is no threat to you. Lower your weapon." Her voice was as hard as steel and if Daryl were any other man he might have pissed his pants. As it was, he was kind of done with being told what to do, and he was kind of done with the surprises that kept on coming.

"A vampire? You serious?" He snickered, thinking that she must be high, but then he saw the grim expressions on every face surrounding him, guns and swords and knives aimed every which way at whoever each member of the group thought was the threat. The standoff stood, nobody backing down until Merle staggered to his feet, shoving himself between the two arrows and looking a little concussed.

"Ain't no reason to get your panties in a twist, sweetheart. Ol' Merle'll hide away for now. Put it down, Bro," he ordered Daryl, his voice cold with warning. All weapons lowered and Merle went back to the car, stared with hatred at the little blonde with the crossbow before climbing in.

Rick strode to the trunk, slammed it shut then climbed into the driver's seat. Without a word they all trailed after his example, climbing in and each door thunked shut until Daryl was the last one standing, staring at the new couple and hoping this wasn't going to be the thing that got them all killed.

"That prison is ours," he said, his voice harsh and brooking no argument.

"Yes," Buffy agreed. "It is." Then she snatched up Spike's hand before the vampire could say anything and led him to the bike. Daryl stared after them thoughtfully, then climbed into the vacant seat next to Rick. They shared one last look of concern before Rick tore out and took the lead back home.