Author Note: Hi anybody who is reading! (if anyone is reading!). Here is chapter Two - I have decided to make this a very short story of maybe around 3-5 chapters. Although, let's not expect it to get any cheerier.

I really, really, really, really would love to hear any comments you have on this...so if you read please leave a little review. Constructive criticism welcomed, general niceties even more so! I will beg for reviews.

Song of the chapter: Willy Mason - The World that I Wanted

Disclaimer: I still own nothing, other then the little thoughts that run around in my head.

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Chapter Two

The setting sun was casting an orange hue onto the scene before him. Staring from the rear window, Rick kept his eyes trained on the figure standing atop of one of the overturned work trucks. He never took his eyes off the man shifting his weight from one foot to the other seemingly swaying in the windless evening. He could see that Daryl didn't have his crossbow anymore having lost it in the chaos of dozens of walkers and his figure looked so much smaller without it. He looked so much less sure without it. Rick could make out Daryl's arms that were hung limply by his side slowly tapping on the outside on his thighs as he slowly turned full circle to look at the throbbing mass encircling him.

Rick realised with a start that the fidgeting, as he had come to realise over the last two years, meant that Daryl was nervous. Apparently, even the seemingly unmoving man that had faced so many demons, both before and after the dead started to rise, got nervous in the face of death. Rick felt shame wash over him and tears once again sting his eyes as the realisation of what he had done dawned upon him; he was letting his best friend die to save his own skin. He'd allowed Daryl to put Rick's own life above his own and didn't even try to change his mind. Not really. He knows the man inside out, more than he expects anyone had his entire life, he knows how little he thinks of himself but he gave up before he ever really tried to argue the hunters worth.

Family. That was it. That was what Daryl had used as a final argument. One simple word to sum up why Daryl should be allowed to die and Rick had let him get away with using his Achilles heel as a trump card. Why had Rick not used that very word as the way to convince him that it was exactly why he shouldn't have discarded his own life so willingly? Didn't he realise that in saving his family he was also ripping out its heart?

Rick dropped his eyes for a second to rub the back of his hands over his eyelids to try and shake the constant throb behind his eyes, just a second, and when he looked up again Daryl was gone from the ever-shrinking scene. His heart leapt to his throat as he raised up slightly, bringing himself forward so his nose was almost up against the glass. Straining his eyes to focus at such a distance, he frantically searched for any sign of the hunter but couldn't find anything. There was no movement from the herd of the un-dead, all still crowding around the sideways vehicle in a frenzy, there was no sudden swell of movement in one direction to indicate his closest friend had managed to make a run for it. He felt bile rise and he brought his hand to his mouth as he attempted to swallow it back down. He was gone. Daryl was gone. The last glimmer of hope that they could somehow all get out of this evaporated as quickly as Daryl had.

Rick cursed himself silently. Not only had he allowed this to happen but he hadn't even been able to witness Daryl's last moments on this Earth. He couldn't give the others the warped closure of knowing how it had happened. Had he put the gun to his own head to save himself the pain of being ripped apart? Had one of those monsters got a hold of him and dragged him into the baying crowd? Or had Daryl given life one last 'fuck you' and gone out the only way he had known to live; fighting. A small smile played on Rick's stubble covered lips for an instant. He knew exactly what had happened.

The car suddenly screeched to a halt, causing the three bodies inside to lurch forward. Rick's breath was uneven as he turn his attention away from the scene behind them onto Glenn in the drivers seat.

"Shit," Glenn exclaimed, running a hand through his sweat-damp hair as he swung around in his seat to face the others. "I can't do this, I can't just leave him. Can you still see him?"

Rick sagged in the seat. The others still had hope. He was going to have to snatch the last chance of a happy ending away from them.

Glenn didn't see the change in the man as his eyes searched past Rick and through the window behind his shoulder, trying desperately to see anything other than a mass of walkers.

"If he managed to get away, to get to higher ground, we could go back and get him," Glenn's voice was pleading, as if saying the words out loud was all he needed to do to make them come true. "He would have realised he had a chance as soon as we had the car. It's Daryl, he would have made it somewhere safe. We have the car now. We take down the fence and drive through them all. Shit, I can't see him."

"Rick, can you see him?" Maggie enquired, craning her neck to try and get a look out of the window. Not seeming bothered with receiving no reply, she brought herself up on her knees to desperately try and get some kind of better view out into the distance. "We can get him. We have to be able to get him now."

It was only when Rick heard Maggie reach and open her door to get a better look that he heard himself speak.

"He's gone." The lump in his throat, which he could only assume was his beating heart, made the words sound strangled. Forced.

"What?" Maggie's body stilled as she stopped her movement out of the car.

"He was there. He was on top of a truck. I could see him. He didn't have his crossbow, it was just him." Rick's voice caught as he saw both sets of eyes dawn, acknowledgement of the words he hadn't yet spoken already making itself known on their features. "He was there, right there, but now he's gone. The walkers are still there. They didn't move away but Daryl's gone...he's gone."

A momentary silence was shattered by a quiet sob escaping Maggie's lips, which she vaguely tried to keep in with her fingers that encased her mouth. Glenn tore his once-expectant eyes, now laced with a mixture of shame, anger and grief, from Rick and lent over Maggie to pull the door shut. Silently, his hands gripped the wheel once again, knuckles turning instantly white as the car started moving. Each of the occupants willed the vehicle to move as quickly as it could so they could get as far away from this place as possible. Every one of them held tears in their eyes, silently crying for a man who would have never believed he was worthy of such emotion.

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The silence was thick within the car, hanging like a thick blanket that was suffocating the living inside.

Rick's thoughts tumbled, almost as freely as the silent tears that littered his cheeks, around his bruised head, taking him back to memories that had shaped his relationship with the man he had come to trust more than any other. From the moment Rick had learnt that the dangerous, racist Merle Dixon had a brother he had instantly formed an opinion of the man, one that initially didn't disappoint. He expected to find a mini-Merle, for him to be rash, hot-headed and violent with a motto of 'act now, don't think at all'. There were moments, including a bunch of dead squirrels being launched at his head, where he thought this to be true, and from what he heard from the group it was especially so when he had been around his older brother. But slowly Daryl had started showing a different side to himself. At first it was small things that made Rick look twice at the hunter, that made him see who he really was.

There was the respect Rick felt when he received the subtle nod from the man when discussing rescuing Glenn from the Vatos that showed a sense of loyalty and honouring a debt he felt needed to be repaid, whether he agreed with the plan of action or even cared for those in need. There was the moment he was elbow deep in walker guts to see if it had devoured a little girl, the time when he dragged himself up a ravine after falling and impaling himself for the smallest sign she was still alive, or when he held back her mother as Rick put a bullet into the already-dead child's head that showed he would do anything, anything, for something, or someone, he cared about. There was the moment that Rick had first seen the scars that littered his torso, and the panic in the injured man's eyes that others were seeing the horror of his upbringing, that made Rick feel sick with disgust at whoever had inflicted them but also understand all the anger, all the distrust, all the distance that the hunter carried with him. It made Rick realise that the man was a true survivor. There was the moment he took the gun out of Rick's hand when he wasn't able to put Dale out of his misery that showed an ability to help carry the burden that was living in this world. There were so many moments over the months in which Daryl evolved from just a simple hot-headed redneck into a trusted friend, a loyal protector and an important part of everyone's lives.

But Rick could pinpoint the exact moment Daryl became more than that. He closed his eyes and thought back to the moment Daryl Dixon became his back-up, his support, and most of all his greatest friend.

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It had been six weeks since the farm had been lost and the group had been moving from one makeshift camp to the next trying to stay out of harms way. They were living each day to simply survive to the next and this chilly evening they had found an abandoned church on the outskirts of a small town. Most of the group were laid down in the pews, covered in any blankets or jackets they could find for heat. One figure sat by a small fire methodically sharpening the end of a homemade bolt with his knife.

Rick slowly approached the hunter and sat down beside him, leaving enough space between the two that Daryl would feel comfortable and not as though his personal space was being threatened. Over the past couple of weeks they had taken to sitting in silence around the fire while the others slept, both knowing they only needed one of the them on watch at a time but neither wanting to leave the other alone in the darkness.

Most nights they didn't talk, or if they did it was limited to short conversations about their next steps. Most nights they were both lost in their own thoughts about the world they lived in or the one they had left behind. But tonight was different, and Rick would never know why Daryl had chosen this night to talk.

"I don't blame ya, y'know." It wasn't a question. Just a simple statement.

The quizzical look thrown from Rick caused him to carry on.

"For any of it." Daryl cleared his throat, softly, "Sophia, Shane...Merle. All ya done through this is your best for all of us."

A grunted laugh, almost a scoff but without the conviction left Rick's lips as he stood from his perch, "My best doesn't seem to be very good anymore."

"Ya can cut that bullshit! Yeah, we've lost people but this group here," Daryl gestured with the unfinished bolt in this hand at the figures sleeping by the fire, "We're all alive and I say we have ya ta thank for that."

"How can you say that?" Rick's voiced was quiet but it was undoubtedly strong. " I lost that little girl. I killed my best friend. I left your brother handcuffed to a roof as I fled a walker-infested building!"

The bolt left Daryl's hands when he threw it to the floor as he stood up to face the deputy sheriff. Glancing quickly to the other to make sure no one had woken he looked up at Rick, holding unbroken eye contact for the first time Rick has ever seen. He had never realised his eyes were so emotive until now.

"Ah, hell." Daryl's voice was little more than a whisper as he continued, "Sophia was a kid, she ain't to know what she was doing. She was scared and she ran, but ya followed her. Ya took out two walkers trying to protect her but she just got lost on her way back to us. It was horrible what happened to her, but you can't have done no more.

"And Shane..." Daryl finally broke the eye contact, not knowing how to phrase his next thought, but bringing his blue eyes back up before he started to speak again, "Y'know I agreed with him a lot, but not how he did things. I think he thought he was doing good, y'know, I think he thought he was the good guy doing only what he had to do to keep what he cared about safe. But it never was his to care for. That man was a complete asshole and he gave ya no choice. Ya did what ya had ta do. He made it so. It was him or you. Him or ya family. Anyone who blames you for that is an idiot."

Daryl's gaze briefly flickered in the direction of Lori, and Rick didn't miss it. The hunter dropped back to his position at the fire and picked up the bolt again continuing his work. Another few seconds and Rick was sat next to him again, bringing his Colt Python into his hands and letting it rest heavily in his palm.

"About Merle..." Rick's chest lowered as he let out a long-awaited breath

"Jeez. Don't." Daryl raised one hand quickly to cut Rick off. "Merle deserved everything he got. You don't need to tell me he could be 'difficult', I know how dangerous he could be. I understood as soon as you told me that desperate measures were needed with him to get the rest of those people out safe. Sure as hell I wanted to kill ya then, I was angry, but I understood. Plus, he ain't dead. He's too stubborn for that dying shit."

Rick smiled quickly as the other man's conviction before returning his attention back to the thoughts that weighed heavily on his mind.

"I wish the others could see it like this. I can see it in their eyes, they don't trust me. They are scared of me. All I've ever done is try to help us survive, together."

"Give 'em time. They will." Daryl paused momentarily, " Granted, the 'Ricktatorship' talk may have freaked 'em out a bit, but they'll come round."

"Really?" Rick's voiced raised as disbelief drenched every word, "My wife, who is pregnant with either mine or my ex-partner's child, won't talk to me. My son, who was forced to shoot someone who he loved, can barely look at me. Carol blames me for losing her daughter, I can see it in the way she looks through me now. And after the CDC, after Shane, I can see them all question me. Everyone but you. I never asked for any of this. I can't lead a group that hates me, that doesn't trust me. I can't do this alone."

His breathing was heavy and his gaze never once left the flickering of the flames in front of him. It felt so good to say these worries out loud. He had been so busy trying to be a leader to the group that he hadn't been able to voice his gnawing thoughts for fear of seeming weak, for fear of them thinking he wasn't able to be strong for them all. All this time he has felt he hadn't been able to let his guard down and the guilt, the worry, the shame had slowly crept their way around his neck, as if they were slowly choking him until it would be too late and he wouldn't be able to scream for help. He could slowly feel the grip around his neck loosen and he sucked in a deep breath to steady his breathing.

A strong hand gently took hold of his shoulder and Rick was surprised to see it belonged to Daryl. The man didn't touch if he could help it. Rick's eyes met the blue eyes once again and he immediately felt a strength that had left him a long time ago surge through his body.

"Ya not in this alone no more." And as quickly as it was placed there the hand dropped away from Rick's shoulder, going back to its work once again.

They sat in silence for minutes, Rick taking in everything that had just been said and finding himself glancing over at the hunter with a newfound affection.

"You know, I think this is the most I've heard you say since I met you." Rick glanced sideways.

"I talk when something needs saying. Ya needed telling." This time he never looked up at the other man, as though the previous lowering of emotional barriers had never happened. "All this moping about was pissing me off."

Another moment of silence before a small laugh floated through the night air.

"Ricktatorship?" Rick chuckled quietly.

"Ya like it?" A smirk flashed across Daryl's face, lit up by the flames in front of them. "Came up with it all by myself."

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A bump in the road and a change of speed brought Rick out of his memory. He looked ahead to see the ominous shadows of the prison looming in front of them and he smacked his tongue against sandpaper-dry mouth. Glenn had slowed the car down as he hesitated about bringing them to their destination. They all knew what was about to happen, what news they had to deliver to the rest of the group and they all knew the grief their family was about to feel. It was the same grief that sat heavily, crushingly so, on their own chests.

Glenn drew in a deep breath as he brought the car to the gates, not even batting an eyelid at the walkers slowly pressing themselves against the windows, and Carl began to open the wooden entrance. Glenn quickly glanced back at Rick and his face was contorted in a grimace, his lips downturned and his brow furrowed, before focussing again on getting them safely in the gate. Maggie's head was propped against the window, her hands balled into the tear-drenched collar of her jacket. Her deep breathing could almost fool you into thinking she was asleep except the frequent shudders that shook he entire frame. Her gaze was distant and unfocussed even as they drew close to their loved ones.

Rick saw Carl look into the car with a smile that quickly faded as soon as he set eyes on his father. The young boy's eyes scanned the car's passengers quickly, a look at horror tracing over his features quickly, before turning his attention back to the gate and allowing the car to pull to a stop in the safety of the yard. The engine was cut and the three just sat there, delaying the inevitable until they could no longer hide from it.

As Rick stepped carefully onto the ground his thoughts went quickly to the last time they had driven back to the prison without Daryl. Then they could at least hold onto the fact that the man was still very much alive and had chosen to stay out in the world with his brother. At the time it had hurt, it had felt like a betrayal, and Rick remember that he had found himself thinking then that he could only imagine that losing him to death wouldn't have been as bitter a pill to swallow.

As his friends, his family, all slowly made their way to them he looked across at Maggie and Glenn. The regret etched so clearly on their faces almost brought him to his knees but he could see something else there. They silently pleaded with him to be the one to break the news, to land the blow to the people he cared for so deeply. He leaned heavily on the bonnet, steadying himself, and looked up at the faces staring at him. He didn't even have to say anything, he realised. The wandering eyes had already searched for the missing fourth member of the group. They had already seen the looks on the three returning faces, seen the eyes of people who had obviously just had an unwanted memory burned into the very fibre of their being. Rick saw each of them react in turn. Michonne turned away from the group as Hershel's aged features deepened in sorrow. He gathered Beth into his arms and led her to Maggie and Glenn to embrace, Maggie all but falling to the floor under the gentle comfort of her family. Carl's eyes dropped to the floor and his fists clenched in anger before he took off towards a guard tower. Carol's gaze simply fell to the sleeping Judith in her arms as she cradled her tightly, her head shaking from side to side as her face finally crumpled into a mass of sobs.

Rick gratefully realised he didn't have to utter the words out loud and instead hung his head, bringing his chin to his chest and squeezing his eyes tight. Around him he could hear the family Daryl had fought so hard to protect breaking, and his knees buckled as he realised the hunter wasn't able to protect them from this. He couldn't protect them from anything anymore.

No. Death was not an easier pill to swallow.

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Once again, I hope you enjoyed reading. I appreciate any reviews.