"You are fucking, crazy, Merle," Daryl snorted, arm casually draped across the seat back of their newly acquired black F250. It was a sweet ride. He was surprised his older brother even let him drive but the other Dixon seemed content to enjoy the trip.

Getting the new vehicle was a pain in the ass, almost more trouble than it was worth. The battery was dead so Merle had come back to pull the one out of their original truck which was hopelessly stuck in the mud. He made Daryl lug the fucking thing the half mile back. They made quick work of putting in the new battery. The keys were still in the ignition but the owner was long gone and one turn, the F250 roared to life. It was fucking awesome.

After transferring the supplies from the piece shit in the ditch to the dream truck and covering them with a tarp, both men were soaked to the skin from the pelting rain; but they were finally on the road again.

Merle laughed at his baby brother, "I ain't crazy, Darylina! I'm just tryin' to make up for bein' such a shitty daddy. Just wait 'til ya see the look on Ladybug's face. It'll be worth it."

"I can think of better ways to make it up to Possum. Already been too much trouble, is all I'm sayin'," Daryl insisted, especially since he was the one that had to do all the dirty work.

"And you ain't thinkin' it through, Baby Bro. Besides ya ain't a daddy so I don't need advice from you on how to make my girl happy." The surprise for his daughter was perfect. He couldn't wait to see her reaction. She was going through some serious shit now and he felt like she could use some cheering up.

"If you say so, Merle." Daryl said, dubiously, glancing in over his shoulder at the box sitting on the narrow back seat of the extended cab. Merle also got a little something for Rowan. Maybe he should have picked up a present for Beth. He wasn't good at this relationship shit. What if he got her the wrong thing? Would that be worse than getting nothing at all? Probably not. Merle would be showering Rowan and Possum, even Judith, with gifts and he'd be standing there empty-handed like an idiot. He could imagine the disappointment on Beth's face. Fuck! He should have thought of that earlier. They were on the homestretch and planned to be at the prison a few hours after dark. He didn't know if he'd get another chance to find something for Beth.

Merle smiled to himself. He couldn't wait to get back. He was tired of sleeping in the truck. He missed Rowan and how her body fit perfectly with his when he curled around her on the bunk. She was soft and warm and smelled a hell of a lot better than his baby brother. She was fuckin' carrying his baby and she looked so goddamn beautiful when she smiled at him that he almost got choked up. What a pussy he'd become, but, fuck, if he wasn't happier than he'd ever been. She gave him a high like no drug ever did.

And Ladybug. Merle was worried sick about her. He didn't know how to make things better or even easier for her. He could try to make it safe. Or so he thought. Didn't catch sight of the fuckin' Governor. He thought about forcing a resident to tell them what they knew but the mother fucker kept his plans to himself and his inner circle which Dixon was sure was out with him, wherever he was. An uneasy feeling settled in the pit of his stomach. He didn't like thinking about where the man was since he wasn't in Woodbury. He knew from experience that meant the man was up to no good.

"Fuck!" Merle yelled, as his head hit the top of the cab. Daryl had taken the truck off-road and they were flying across the middle of an overgrown field in the direction of a large farmhouse situated just at the top of a slight rise. "Ya coulda used the fuckin' driveway, asshole!" he bitched at his brother who was grinning like the redneck he was when he answered.

"Why? Paved roads are for pussies! 'Sides, I wanted to see what this baby could do," he laughed patted the dash with his left hand.

"Well give me a warnin' next time, ya jackass. Ya 'bout broke my goddamn neck," Merle grunted, rubbing his head and turning it side to side, feeling out the damage.

"Ya gettin' too old, ya Pussy," Daryl taunted. "Maybe we can find ya a wheelchair here."

"Fuck off."

Daryl grinned, skidding to a stop at the front porch. He managed to run over a lone walker in the process. "Hot damn!"

The Dixon brothers jumped out of the vehicle and within minutes, they determined the house walker-free. They began collecting anything and everything they thought they could use.

Daryl met Merle in the living room after cleaning out the second floor. "Maybe I ought to give this to Carl."

Merle looked over at the eight inch hunting knife his brother had balanced in his hands. The older Dixon chuckled. "Not unless you have a death wish, baby brother."

"What are you talking about, Merle?" He looked up to see if his brother was joking but sometimes with Merle it was hard to tell. He had a damn good poker face.

"That boy only wants one thing from you and it sure as hell ain't no damn knife." When he saw the puzzled look on his baby brother's face Merle shook his head. Goddamn it, the boy was dense when it came to people so he had mercy on him and spelled it out. "He wants your woman." He smiled as his words absorbed into Daryl's thick skull.

"What?" he stopped to considered Merle's words. "Beth?"

"Bingo! And giving him that knife is like giving him an invitation to stick it between your ribs. With you outta the picture, there ain't no one standin' in his way." Merle's face was dead serious.

"Pft," Daryl snorted. His brother was crazy. Carl just has a crush on her, that's all. The boy was too young to be thinking about girls other than that. Hell, when he was twelve, all he thought about was…Fuck! Surely Carl couldn't believe he had a chance with Beth. Damn Merle for putting that thought in his head. "You're an asshole."

His brother laughed. "And you're too easy, Darylina," he said throwing a trash bag full of loot into the back of the truck. Merle retied one end of the tarp over the supplies while Daryl grabbed the other end.

Both Dixons froze at the same time. Their eyes met over the bed of the truck. The distinct sound of a vehicle, heading in the general direction of their location interrupted their friendly brotherly bonding.

"Fuck, Merle!" Daryl said. They were out in the open with no cover. Anybody passing by could see them. The fact that they hadn't seen a single living soul in the past three days led to their carelessness.

The sound was getting closer. "We shoulda fuckin' parked around the back," his brother growled, grabbing additional weapons from the cab and running back into the farmhouse.

From their vantage point on the second floor Merle and Daryl watched as a dirty white Ford Excursion drove by the house then turned sharply onto the long drive.

Carl meandered through the lowest floor of the prison. It was dark and damp and down there and he couldn't even tell what time of day it was but he didn't mind. He wasn't scared of anything anymore. Well, that was entirely true. He was scared of losing his family and he considered the whole group his family, except for Daryl Dixon. He still had grudging respect for the man's skills and since the group had arrived at the prison, Daryl had freely shared his knowledge with the younger Grimes. The hunter had never treated him as a child. However, Carl didn't think he would ever forgive the man for stealing Beth away from him.

He hoped that his words to the beautiful blonde would sink in and she would realize that Daryl wasn't such a prize after all. Women like polite, well-groomed men with good manners and he had none of those qualities. He could be an ass sometimes too and when he broke Beth's heart, Carl would be there to pick up the pieces while she wondered what she saw in Daryl after all.

Although, in all honesty, as mad as he was, Carl still missed his friend. He missed hunting with him, cleaning game, and the regular man-to-man talks they used to have. Truth be told, Daryl hadn't spent much time with him since his brother Merle came to the prison and even less time when Daryl hooked up with Beth.

A rustle up ahead interrupted the boy's moping. He stopped to listen. There was definitely something moving and it didn't sound like a walker to him. Carl thought he heard soft voices but he wasn't sure; he knew running water could play tricks the mind and in few of the places he passed, water had been trickling down the walls since the rain started. It wouldn't hurt to check it out though. After all, Carl dispatched one stray walker since entering the 'tombs' as T-dog had called this place. He was ashamed of himself for almost forgetting the man who gave his life to save Carol but it had been a long time since the walkers took him down…the same day Carl's mother died.

He angrily wiped a tear away. He was too old to cry. He had to be strong. He had to do his part to protect the rest of the group. One little mistake could be fatal. He could take care of this by himself and prove to Beth and everyone one else that he wasn't a little kid anymore.

"Thanks man," Martinez leaned back inside the Bronco and blew a lopsided ring of smoke out the window. Damn that was good. He couldn't remember the last time he had a cigarette. He had quit long before the dead rose.

Shupert nodded and blew his own perfect smoke ring.

Martinez grinned. "Asshole."

The large man chuckled. "So now what?"

"Not sure." Martinez had relayed the entire story of how he came to be at the prison with Dixon.

Shupert confirmed Travis' story. They were looking for two fugitives, a male and a female. They didn't steal anything. They only thing they did wrong was want to leave Woodbury. "You could come back," he suggested. "The man would have a hero's welcome for you."

Martinez shook his head. "Don't want to as long as that psycho is still alive."

Shupert shrugged and blew a puff of smoke out the window. The rain had slowed down to a drizzle.

"Besides, Shup, I gotta a woman that I'm not leaving behind." Not now, not after she chose him over that prick Grimes. Not after she touched him in the shower like she did last night, or was that this morning? He had so little sleep since the Dixons left he couldn't tell one day from the next. And since Shup was out here taking direct orders from the Governor that meant the Dixons hadn't killed him yet.

"Bring her."

"Can't, man." He doubted Amanda would ever step foot in Woodbury again even if the Governor was dead. Martinez paused a moment before telling his friend, "It's Merle's daughter."

"Why the fuck her?"

"Don't know, Shup." Maybe he did. He smiled. "When I saw her up in that tree taunting you and breaking your arrows in half, I knew she was something special."

Shupert snorted then laughed. "You're one crazy mother fucker."

"I know," he laughed a little with his friend, then in a more serious tone said, "She's pregnant."

Shupert raised an eyebrow. "Doc Stevens can take care of her."

"It's not mine," Martinez said, taking a long drag from his cigarette, slowly blowing the smoke out the passenger's side window.

He raised the other eyebrow. "Crowley?"

"Nope," he said, flicking his spent butt to the ground. "The Governor. They put a bag over her head. Crowley did all the talking, and the bastard, well…She doesn't even fuckin' know it. Just me, Crowley, and the man himself." And Crowley was dead. He didn't know why he told Shupert. Martinez had planned to carry that secret with him to his grave but the burden of carrying it weighed heavy on him and maybe sharing it lightened load.

"Holy shit." Shupert shook his head. "Fuck, man, that's messed up."

Caesar closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the seat. "The Gov wanted me to stick with Dixon, let him know where Dixon went and if his seed 'took'." Martinez barely controlled a shudder of disgust. "Then I was supposed to get back to him, with her, if it did."

"You're backing out." It was really a statement more than a question.

Martinez opened his eyes and turned to the big man. "Got no choice, man. I might love her."

"You gonna tell her who the daddy is?"

"Hell no, it would kill her. She's barely hanging on as it." He was doing his best to protect Amanda; she was so fragile. He hated to have a secret between them but he didn't see anyway around it right now...maybe he could tell her after the baby was born.

"If the man finds out, you know he won't stop until he finds her." He'd been one of the Governor's soldiers long enough to know that that bit of information would derail the man's plans to find the two fugitives or Michonne. Not only would the man have another child but it would be the cherry on top of his revenge for Merle Dixon.

"You gonna tell him, Shupert?" Caesar's question took on a dangerous tone. He wouldn't hesitate to do what he had to do to protect Amanda even if it meant taking out his friend.

"Fuck no, man. I wouldn't do that to you." He pulled out another cigarette for himself and offered one to Caesar. "Penny's dead."

"Fucking hell," Caesar said, as Shupert lit his cigarette, snapping the lighter closed loudly. If the Governor had not already gone over the edge, the death of his only daughter would have sent him there. "Who put her down?"

"Remember that bitch Merle brought in with Andrea; Michonne was her name?"

He nodded.

The big man went on, "She came back and put a sword through the girl's head and then stabbed him in the eye."

"Fuck, man. You serious?" Now that his Penny was dead, Martinez knew the Governor would stop at nothing to get to Amanda if knew about her pregnacy.

Shupert watched the rain run in rivulets down the windshield. "The man went bat shit crazy. Since Dixon and you took out all our good men, he's been using women and children as soldiers," he said, indicating the corpse of Travis lying a few feet away from the truck with a wave of his hand. "Sent them out after that bitch. She killed them all, heads sliced clean off."

"You don't need that shit, Shup. Come back with me. Leave now and he'll never be able to find you," urged Martinez. They could use another gun at the prison.

He shook his head with regret. "Can't leave the poor folks who depend on him to keep them safe."

Martinez snorted. "He ain't the one keeping 'em safe. You are."

"That's why I can't leave," he replied solemnly.

"I really hate to hear that." He really did. Shupert was a good guy but a soldier like him, not a leader. He wondered if the citizens of Woodbury had someone who could step up as leader in the event of the Governor's imminent demise. The only one he knew was that blonde bitch he was sleeping with and that was only if she would ever see the man for the monster he was.

"You gonna kill me, Martinez?"

"Not now, but if the man suddenly shows up at the prison with his army, I won't hesitate," he promised his friend.

"Fair enough."

The walkie-talkie between them crackled and the Governor's voice broke through the silence. "Shupert, come in."

The big man closed his eyes for a second before picking up, "Shupert here."

"We got 'em. Jackson thought he saw them slip through the fence at a prison about 10 miles off the highway. The West Georgia Correctional Facility. Meet me there. Hold on, I'm going to put Davis on for directions."

"Yes sir."

Caesar was already getting out when Shupert grabbed him by the arm. "Get in. I'll take you as far as I can. It'll be faster."

Caesar paused for a second then nodded, sliding back into the seat, wanting to believe that Shupert really was the friend he thought he was.

"Shupert, this is Davis. Ready for the directions?"

"Go ahead, Davis."

Special thanks to Siarh for editing.

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Happy reading!