Dear Readers, please be advised that this chapter contains non-con sexual contact.

Rick Grimes and Daryl Dixon studied the map spread out on the hood of the old truck. Amanda's trail had run cold. Her uncle was convinced her abductors carried her off in a vehicle. He'd followed their path until ended at the pavement. His search of the surrounding areas revealed nothing.

Rick pointed to couple of towns near their present location. "These could be possibilities. We oughtta start checking the closest ones and work our way out."

The hunter didn't say anything. He knew it was a long shot, at best. But, hell, he didn't have any better ideas. His niece was a smart girl. If she was able to, she'd leave clues behind for him to find. Thing was, he couldn't find a goddamn thing. Not since he found the strip of condoms. And from the damage to the tall grass and surrounding bushes, he'd guess she was dragged, kicking and screaming, as far as the parking lot. After that...he could only guess and he didn't want to go there. He hoped she'd keep her smartass Dixon mouth in check so maybe her captors wouldn't kill her just to shut her up.

Rick drove slowly down the route they'd planned out while her uncle scanned the area for signs, any kind of sign indicating living people had passed through. Rick still couldn't believe Amanda was missing. He was so sure they would have found her by now. Daryl believed she was taken, taken by at least three men, based on the boot prints they discovered in the soft dirt under the oak. Cold fear gripped his stomach. He shouldn't have let her go. It wasn't like he really had a choice but maybe he could have talked her out of it...convinced her to stay. He should have tried.

Amanda stood beside her father as the Governor introduced her to the other dinner guests. The pretty blonde woman, Andrea, was "with" the Governor. Apparently she had known Merle in Atlanta. Amanda would make sure to talk to her later. Milton was Woodbury's resident scientist, and a favorite of the Governor who was certain he would discover a cure for the pandemic that swept the world. The bespectacled man was almost a cliché with his intellectual, yet awkward, demeanor and obvious nervousness around women especially Amanda. He seemed downright frightened of Merle. Merle didn't even try to hide his dislike for the man.

Dinner was an informal affair. They sat at a small round table in the kitchen and ate delicious venison stew served by the Governor.

"Mmmm," Amanda said savoring the scrumptious meal. "Did you make this, Andrea?" she asked.

The blonde looked a little taken aback. "Um, no, Phillip?" she looked at the Governor questioningly.

He smiled at her indulgently "I can't take the credit for this fabulous dish. Rowan prepared it, at my request. She is quite the gourmet."

Merle choking on his food, spitting it back in the bowl.

The Governor gave him an annoyed look. Milton looked disgusted.

"S-sorry, sir. Must've choked on a bone." Merle said hoarsely.

"You okay, Daddy?" Amanda asked slapping him on the back.

"I'm f-fine," he coughed. "Just stop that sh-, I'm fine, ladybug." He drained his water glass in one gulp. He leaned over and whispered in her ear. "Easy on the stew. I'll explain later."

Amanda pouted. It was really good and she was really hungry. Merle kicked her leg. She flashed him an angry look, "Fine."

Milton poured her another cup of tea. "I must say Miss Dixon, You are quite the well-mannered young lady...not at all what I would have expected when the Governor said Merle's daughter was coming to dinner."

Really, Did that little weasel just insult my Daddy...

"Hey, Watch your mouth, boy!" Merle warned and started to get up from his seat but a sharp look from the Governor sat him back down.

"Gentlemen," Phillip intervened. "This is not the time to air your petty differences."

"Yessir," mumbled Milton and Merle at the same time, earning Milton another scathing look from her dad.

"Milton," Amanda began, "My mother was a debutante who was a stickler for etiquette. She made sure to teach me how to behave appropriately in all situations."

"Well she certainly did a fine job. I assume you were a debutante, too."

Amanda sipped her tea delicately, as a young lady should and sat the cup down before speaking. She folder her hands in her lap. "Then, my dear Milton, you'd be wrong," she smiled at the confused man. "Momma tried to push me down that path but...well...let's just say I was too outspoken for that type of lifestyle."

Merle snorted. "No shit."

This time Amanda kicked him under the table but he just laughed.

"You know, Merle," Andrea said, "It's a miracle finding your daughter after all this time." She turned to Amanda. "Phillip tells me that his men rescued you."

Rescued me, my ass.

"Yes ma'am. I was lucky they found me." She took pleasure in the way the blonde cringed at being called ma'am.

"How did you manage on your own."

"Dixon blood." Amanda answered proudly, refusing to elaborate.

Merle patted her hand. Good girl.

After dinner, the Governor and Andrea cleared the table and refused Amanda's offer of help to clean up.

Amanda sat in the living room while her dad stood at the door like he was on watch or something. She gestured for him to sit by her but he shook his head. She went to him. "Daddy, why don't you..."

"Don't wanna. Go on, now."

Amanda let it go for now, She had other things weighing on her mind. "What's up with the stew? There weren't any bones in it."

Merle turned to look at her. "The Gov dumped Rowan for Blondie."

"No shit?" Amanda's stomach started to roll when the implication started to sink in. "Man, Daddy, that takes balls, asking your ex to cook for your new girlfriend!" Shit!

He gave her a hard look. "Tol' you to go easy on it, Ladybug."

"Shut up, Daddy!" She covered her mouth with her hand. "Do you really think it was poisoned?"

He shrugged. "A bitch scorned..." The words died in his mouth as heard footsteps heading in their direction.

"Please, Amanda, have a seat, you must be tired. You too, Merle. You're off duty for a few more hours. Relax." The Governor went to the bar and started pulling out glasses.

Reluctantly, Merle sat on the arm of the sofa by his daughter. He rested his stump on the back, behind her head. Andrea and Milton sat across from them while Phillip poured drinks and passed them around. "Scotch?" he asked Amanda.

"Sure," Amanda said. She sniffed daintily...oh the good stuff. She winked at Milton who blushed and suddenly found his own cup of tea very interesting.

She looked up at her dad. He swirled his in the glass but didn't take a drink. To hell with that, she thought and tipped hers back, letting the smooth liquid slide down her throat. Almost immediately she felt the warmth spread all the way to her toes. Damn, that was good! She smiled.

The Governor smiled back. "Would you care for another, Amanda?"

"No." She and Merle said at the same time.

"No thank you, Governor." She repeated and then looked sharply at her father who was shooting her a threatening look. "What's the matter, Daddy," she said, patting his knee. "Afraid I'll get drunk and seduce Milton?"

Merle called her a little bitch under his breath but Amanda knew he was fighting a smile. He kept his head down to hide it from the others.

Milton turned bright red and spilled some tea in his lap.

Andrea laughed, covering her mouth with her hand, and handed the mortified man a napkin. "She's just teasing, Milton. Aren't you, Amanda?"

And the Governor, she couldn't tell what he was thinking.

Milton excused himself, claiming a headache. Phillip wanted to discuss "business" in private with Merle. That left the two women alone.

"So tell me, Amanda, what was it like out there on your own?" Andrea asked.

Daddy told her not to trust anyone, and this one was a lawyer so she brushed off the question. "Nothing to tell, you do what you have to do to survive." She went back to sipping her tea wishing, she'd taken the Governor up on his offer of another glass of Scotch.

"It must have been awful." The blonde woman commented. "I was actually on my own for awhile, too." Phillip had seemed unsettled since the arrival of the young Dixon woman and for the life of her, she couldn't understand why. He'd actually asked Andrea to try to find out more information about her.

Amanda shrugged. "Then, you know," she said and took another sip of tea.

Andrea smiled. "I guess I do." The young woman was as tight-lipped as the Dixon men, she thought.

"Can you tell me something, Andrea?"

"Sure."

"Daddy said ya'll met in Atlanta. Can you tell me what happened there?"

"What exactly do you know?" Andrea countered with her own question.

Amanda wasn't willing to give up what Daryl told her, even if it wasn't much. Merle got separated from the group and she wanted to know why. She didn't understand why Blondie was being evasive. She was starting to doubt that her daddy was gonna tell her when they got back to his apartment.

"I didn't really know Merle back then..." Andrea began.

"So, tell me what you do know."

This wasn't the way it was supposed to go. Andrea should be leading the questioning. How'd the little bitch turn it around on her?" Amanda, you really should ask Merle."

"Listen, Andrea. I'm not asking you to sugarcoat anything. I know my daddy...I know what he was like. He was an obnoxious, drug using ex-con who couldn't stay clean long enough to pick his 12 year-old daughter from the airport when she came to visit for the summer. I've seen him high more often that not." She paused for a breath and fought back tears. She wouldn't be weak in front of this stranger. "But, h-he's different now. Something changed him and I just want to know what happened to bring my daddy back."

"The Governor, here, did, baby girl. He and his men brought me back when I was half-starved and damn near bled out. Lookin' death in the face makes a man realize what's important." Merle leaned over and kissed his daughter's head. "Now let's get home so you can get some sleep. Been a long day."

Amanda smiled weakly, thanked the Governor and Andrea for their hospitality and followed her daddy out.

Daryl rubbed his face tiredly with both hands. The first two towns he and Rick checked were barely wide spots in the road. No luck there. The next was so overrun with walkers, they had to skirt around the outside of the town to avoid a pretty good size herd. No way Possum was there.

The sun was low in the sky, casting long shadows over the landscape and now he couldn't see shit. They'd have to find a place for the night. Start searching again tomorrow. Fuck! He thought they'd all be home tonight. Home. When had he started to think of the prison as home?

Rick had been quiet most of the day. Daryl was thankful because he didn't wanna talk about it. He just wanted to find his niece. He could tell by the worry lines etched in the man's face that his friend was taking this pretty hard. Maybe as hard as him. Hell, Daryl should've known better. Amanda was more than just a piece of ass to Rick. Grimes really cared about her. Daryl wanted to tell him he was sorry for punching him but...he wasn't that sorry. The man should've been more discreet.

"Daryl! Over here," Rick called. He pointed to a water tower at the edge of town. "I'm going up there. I might be able to see something, a campfire, headlights, I don't know. Anything."

"What are we waitin' for?" Daryl replied, jumping into the truck.

Rick drove the short diastance and parked at the base of the tower. Both men quickly climbed high enough to see over the treetops in the waning light.

"There!" Daryl said pointing west. "Just to the left of the tallest pine."

Rick squinted, barely able to make out a faint glow in the direction Dixon indicated. "I see it, I think." Then it was gone. Both men looked at each other. "Where'd it go? There was something there. I saw it. I know I did."

Daryl shook his head. "Don't know, man, but I saw it, too. That's where we head at first light."

The only light in Merle's apartment was a small candle that cast eerie shadows across the coffee table on which it at. Merle leaned back on the couch with his right arm around his daughter while she rested her head on his shoulder.

Amanda told him how she found Daryl several months ago at the West Georgia Correctional Facility with a small group of survivors and she'd been there ever since. Merle had never been in that particular establishment but he knew exactly where it was.

"Who else is there, Ladybug?"

"Nope, It's your turn, Daddy. You promised." She snuggled closer.

Merle sighed. "Some prick cuffed me to an iron pipe in Atlanta and left me there. Had to saw my own hand off to escape from the fuckin' geeks."

"Oh my God, Daddy!" Amanda hugged him, tears slid down her cheeks onto his shirt. She couldn't imagine the horror her daddy went through. "Who could do something like that?"

Fuckin' Officer Friendly. Hope that prick is still alive so I can kill him. He swiped at his damp shirt. "Cut that shit out, ladybug. You're gettin' my good shirt all wet," he scolded, half-heartedly. He kissed the top of her head and then rubbed her back until she stopped crying. "Tell me, baby girl, who all you got at that prison?"

She shifted against him. "Amanda?"

He was answered by a soft sniffle and a snore. "Well, fuck." he mumbled. Merle slid out from under her, slowly lowering his sleeping daughter down on the couch, careful not to wake her. He stuck a pillow under her head and covered her with a blanket. "Guess we'll have that talk in the mornin'."

Merle Dixon stretched out on his bed. He'd meant for his baby girl to sleep here but he didn't want to wake her. It'd been a long damn day and he was bone-tired himself. He wanted to catch a few z's before his turn on the wall.

Amanda woke up alone and disoriented. She was lying on a couch in a dimly-lit room with a lumpy pillow under her head and a worn blanket tucked under her chin. Daddy's house, she smiled, remembering where she was. When she was a child she would cover her daddy with a blanket and put a pillow under his head when he passed out on the couch, or in a chair, or sometimes, even on the floor. There was an oil lamp, flame burning low, on a table by the front door. Merle was gone. She slipped her feet back into her boots and wished she had something other than this stupid dress to wear.

Opening the front door, she peeked out to see a deserted street, no lights of any kind shone from the windows. Woodbury at night wasn't even a shadow of the happy, bright place she experienced in the daylight. Amanda stepped out into the cool night air closing the door behind her. Walking softly wasn't an easy task in the impractical high-heeled boots she had to wear. She stuck to the shadows, a habit developed since the world went to shit, and headed toward the front gates of the town. She thought she heard voices in that vicinity.

"Don't you know there's a curfew, bitch?" A chilling voice, dripping with hatred stopped her in her tracks.

Amanda reached for the knife in her boot but it was too late. Crowley grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked her painfully against him, his own knife at her throat. "Don't even think about screaming, bitch, you'll be dead before the sound leaves your mouth." She tried to struggle but the blade bit into to the soft skin just under her jaw. He dragged her into the alley and pulled her through a metal door, kicking it shut behind him. The room was dark except for a small candle in the center of a round table that stood in the middle of the room.

Crowley shoved her in one of the two chairs that sat around the table. Still holding her by her hair, he pulled her head back painfully exposing her pale neck. He put his mouth to her ear and said, "You're too pretty to be Dixon's girl. Betcha your ma was a whore and didn't know who your daddy was...just saddled that piece of trash with her bastard."

She wanted to head butt him, like before, but he gripped her hair too tight. Laughing harshly, he said, "Ain't gonna work again, sweetheart," and he licked the side of her face from her chin to her ear. Amanda shuddered in disgust.

"Now, we need to have a little talk," he said. "Seems the Governor doesn't believe your story. Said he heard you say the name 'Daryl.' That's Dixon's little brother, ain't it?"

She didn't answer and Crowley jerked her head back farther. "Ain't no way a little cunt like you could survive all by herself, Dixon or not. Make it easy on yourself. You tell me what I wanna know and I'll be nice." He licked the other side of her face. "Where'd you come from and how many's in your group?"

"Go to hell," she spat.

Crowley just laughed, "Don't matter one way or another to me. I like it rough." He slid the tip of the knife down the neckline of her dress to rest between her cleavage. His knuckles grazed the soft mounds. "Mmmm, nice," he said squeezing one hard, cold metal and jagged nails digging into the tender flesh. She forced herself not to make a sound. He sucked her ear into his mouth, "C'mon, little girl, talk to me." She tried to pull away and he bit her earlobe hard.

Tears sprang to her eyes but she refused to give him the satisfaction of crying. Her voice trembled as she said defiantly, "My daddy will kill you, if I don't kill you first!"

"You ain't going be in any shape to do nothing, bitch, unless you cooperate." He let go of her hair long enough to pull a zip tie out of his pocket and quickly bound her wrists behind her back. "Now, that's better. I can use both hands."

"Fuck you!" Amanda screamed as she kicked out and hit him in the shin with the sharp heel of her boot.

"Stupid fuckin' bitch!" Crowley yelled, backhanding her across the face. He ripped off her boots and a small knife fell to the floor between them. He picked it up and grinned. "Guess you won't be needing this." He chuckled as he dropped it into his front pocket.

She glared at him defiantly. "You know, you're a dead man, don't you?"

"Don't know when to give up, do ya?"

"Dixons don't give up."

The man just shook his head and laughed. "You're a tough one, ain't ya." He pushed her legs apart and knelt between them, leaning forward, he licked the tiny stream of blood that trickled from her lip. "It's been awhile since we had some new pussy around here," he said, lips brushing against her cheek. Pulling off his bandana, he tied it securely around her mouth. A truly terrifying smile spread across his face as he wrapped one hand in her hair and shoved the hem of her dress up with the other. "Lot of the fellas already calling dibs on ya." He dragged his knife along her inner thigh until it came to rest against her panties. "But the Governor said..." Crowley pushed the silky fabric aside with the cold sharp tip of his blade. His breaths came faster as his fingers found their way into her soft, warm center. "Goddamn tight pussy," he grunted. Amanda whimpered and struggled against him. "Governor said I could keep ya if I got the information he wanted." He thrust his fingers in harder, finally forcing a cry from her lips. Pleased with himself, he smiled and grabbed her chin, biting her lower lip, sucking more blood out of the cut. "And believe me, little cunt, I intend to do just that."

A very special thank you goes out to Siarh for her endless patience, helpful tips, and honest opinions.