A/N: Chapter 2. Comments are loved!

Chapter 2

Daryl

Daryl woke up with a jerk.

"Now. Which one a' ya lil' strips stuck yer pretty nose in my candy stash?"

He panicked and shot up from the floor he had passed out on. He could recognize that voice anywhere.

Merle.

"Step out, prick. No need to blush."

Daryl stormed out of the house. He pushed the porch door open and it made a noise as it slammed against the wooden wall of the house. People lined up in front of the porch turned to look at him.

Faceless people. Their expressions were a blur to him.

Pure daylight blinded his eyesight, but he could make out his brother's features too well behind the faceless crowd. They were all looking at him. "Merle."

His brother gasped. There was a long silence until he opened that filthy mouth of his. "Ya chained my baby brother here with ya?" The crowd remained silent, still staring at Daryl. "Ya jailed my dear lil' brother to stay with ya faggots? Is that what happened here, huh?"

"Merle, it's not –" Daryl tried to go to his brother but faceless creatures held him by both arms. Merle let out a guffaw, holding his tummy. It lasted for an eternity, Merle just laughing uncontrollably. He was still struggling for air as he grabbed one of the faceless figures and made it view his twisted expression.

"Was it you who turned my lil' Darlena into a fag?" Merle demanded, shaking the little figure, seemingly a child, in his grip. "I'mma beat the hell outta ya."

Daryl tried to break free from the grip of the shapes holding him steady as the first blow landed on the child's face.

"Ya the one who stole my candy?"

Blow after blow, and Daryl could do nothing but scream as his brother laughed, louder and louder until his ears were ringing.

Daryl screamed Merle's name, head throbbing hard against his scalp. He tossed against the hands touching him, until he noticed it was peaceful. There was an actual face, that wasn't his brother's, coming to his view.

"Daryl."

He tried to catch his breath. His heart was beating against his ribcage with a tight rhythm. He recognized a bright ceiling and T-Dog's features, looking down at him.

"Another dream?" T-Dog asked, letting go of his arms. Daryl sighed, feeling a tear of sweat slide down his temple as he sat up.

"A nightmare."

"Not cool, bro. But I guess we all have 'em." Daryl shivered as T-Dog turned to walk towards the door of the room. "Glenn's waiting for you outside." With that, his partner left the room.

"What?" Daryl mumbled to himself, dumbfounded. Right, they were still completing the Governor's job. And had spent a night in a barricaded town lacking any decent people.

Turned out Daryl had, as sober as he claimed to have been the night before, promised to go on a supply run for these people. In exchange for a proper bed for the night.

He packed his stuff and wiped his face with a dirty rag before heading outside.

Fuck, if the kid wasn't talkative. Glenn had just finished saying an hour long goodbye to a dozen of people like ten fucking minutes ago and here he went on again.

"So… you seemed to enjoy yourself last night?"

If it wasn't for the stupid green Hyundai and the uselessly fast speed of it, which actually would be pretty damn practical at times, Daryl would've thrown himself out of the car right there and then. "They don't store a lot of booze 'round the North Land. 'cept for the expensive shit at the pub." Glenn glanced at him from the driver's seat, and why the heck wasn't Daryl allowed to drive?, before returning his gaze to the road. Daryl sighed of relief because well, the kid was suicidal to say the least. Murderous, too, in case the apocalypse had made him insane.

"How's it like living in there? They say it's better than what many people have been used to, recently. That people actually have jobs, and stuff," the kid rambled on casually, as if this whole mess of the mankind never existed. Daryl growled. "I could get used to it. Having people around, I mean. It's useful."

"Dunno," Daryl begun and swallowed a lump in his throat. Ugh, social situations. "…about that. Haven't lived there for long. Used to live in the woods. Fend for myself."

"Why did you move, then?" The question came out so innocent and as if the kid cared that Daryl had to scrunch his face bitterly.

"Brother. Lost him a while ago, that sumbitch took off while I was sleepin'."

"I'm sorry," Glenn managed and cleared his throat. There was a silence as the kid drove, nearer the city this time. "Look, if you just told me what he looks like, we could –"

"I doubt ya wanna do that," Daryl interrupted the polite offer of help and turned his head to look towards the growing buildings ahead. "We're here. Let's do this shit."

They parked the car next to some shopping mall and hopped out to the streets, Glenn taking the lead. Daryl held his bow close in case some soil-faced creep decided to jump at them. He focused on the alleys around them. They were all empty. He thought cities were supposed to bustle of walkers, so what the hell had happened that made the old Atlanta so fatally silent? Had he missed something remarkable? Maybe the fuckers had starved until their final snarl and died.

"Well this place seems more deserted than China after an apocalypse," Daryl broke the tension between them and earned a glare from Glenn over his shoulder. "Think things ain't like this in Shanghai or wherever ya came from? 'cause I sure as hell could bet that they have a solution to all of this, jus' won't tell us, those bastards."

"Will you please shut up?"

Daryl smirked and stared at Glenn's steady backside as they walked. "So what did you guys need back at the camp? We can split up and get back to the car when we're done."

Glenn seemed to be thinking. Daryl eyed the lanky shoulders under a black t-shirt, so thin that he wondered if the group had enough to eat. An old baseball bat was held in the kid's firm grip, ready to strike when a rotten memento of a human being wandered too close. The loyal cap stayed on as Glenn's head hung low. Daryl didn't know what to think about that. People were like this nowadays. They wore these weird masks on their faces, those that lied that everything was okay, that the people behind them did just fine. That didn't mean they were. And it certainly wasn't right, Daryl thought.

When the kid finally opened his mouth, turning around, an expression of pure surprise spread to Daryl's face. "You think I can trust you that much, dumbass? No. We need food, mostly. And you're coming with me. The girls need their tampons and I need you to pick the brand, Dick."

Everything was easier after that. Daryl found himself amazed by the way the kid moved in the city, all quiet and quick on his feet when any walkers did appear. Glenn seemed to avoid any encounters. And he found stuff. Knew where everything would be, and it had been five fucking years and there still was something left somewhere if you knew where to look from.

There was a lingering hope of finding Merle in the city. He looked out for his brother's unmistakable figure. Who knew if the haywire had gone off to update his drug stash, now that there were no cops to arrest him for having it and it was free for anyone to take? Not that Merle had ever paid for it before the end of the world. That sneaky son of a bitch.

"Shit."

Daryl was yanked from his thoughts back to reality by Glenn's hand on his arm. He felt something smelly wrap around his neck and hissed. How the hell had this happened? Daryl Dixon didn't let his guard down. He struggled for a while, hearing only snarling and snapping teeth as the walker on his back just wouldn't let go.

He turned. Twisted. Bowed, anything to avoid getting bit.

Come on, lil' brother. Don't be such a pussy.

He closed his eyes and stumbled backwards.

Kick off 'em damn high heels and fight, Darlena.

Daryl fell, crushing that ugly motherfucker under his body and breathed. Eventually the snarling stopped. He opened his eyes and spotted Glenn hovering over him, pulling out a knife from the walker's skull.

"We need to go."

Daryl didn't need to be told twice. They sprinted all the way to the car, Glenn's backpack heavy of supplies. Panting, Glenn started the car, needing so bad to get out of there.

Once on the road again, Glenn slowed down and spoke. "What were you doing out there? Daydreaming?"

Daryl just breathed, shocked. He had never been that close to dying. He had heard Merle's rasped voice crystal clear in his head. As if the filthy man had been there himself.

"I don't think I'll ever get used to zombies, no matter how many brains I smash," Glenn mumbled, visibly shivering, and they were silent for the rest of the way.

The Governor's job was done and he could go back to whatever the hell he wanted to do. First he went to the pub, Crippling Biter they called it, ordered a beer and sat in the corner for what felt like an eternity. Looked out for his brother as usual. They said many crossed the North Land every once in a while, and those who were lost but could offer something, stayed. Merle certainly had something to offer. He always came up with a way that made it sound like he was something invaluable. But Daryl couldn't know if Merle was lost, because if he was, he wasn't one to admit it. Probably wouldn't stay. But Daryl still kept looking every night. The Governor did, for him, as well.

Daryl sighed and noted that the blonde girl in the opposite corner of the pub was lost. Had been for weeks, all the time Daryl's been in the rebuilt city. Probably even longer. She had this aura of emptiness to her, just staring at her mug of beer in front of her with half lidded eyes. Now she was one, Daryl thought, who looked like a person was supposed to, in this kind of situation. She didn't hide it like many did. But maybe not all had lost everyone and had someone to pretend for. But Daryl knew this girl had lost all.

He stood and left the pub.

Daryl dragged his old, worn out body into the shithole that was his "apartment" in the Governor's building. He dropped to the sofa and jerked himself off with lazy tugs, only to think afterwards that at least he had his hand.

No one to pretend for.