DISCLAIMER: I do not own any part of The Walking Dead. This is for entertainment purposes only.

A/N: I put a poll up on my page for those of you who are interested. Just curious what y'all are thinking. And for those of you who read Prison of War, I'm still thinking about possibly making a sequel down the road. Just thought I would throw that out there. I love reviews! You guys make me smile!

On My Own.

"So, where are you from?"

Amy had yet again decided to greet Daryl the next morning, following him around asking questions. She was leaning against the hood of his truck as he grabbed his crossbow from the cab and slammed the door shut for good measure. "Around."

His one word response puzzled her for a minute but she glanced down at the crossbow in his hands and seemed to perk up. "That's neat. I've never seen one up close before. You hunt?"

Daryl shot a glare at her but she still wasn't quite catching on. "Used to. Been a while since."

"My dad used to hunt. I kind of always thought it was cruel. But I guess you have to eat…" Amy followed him as he walked towards the group with his crossbow now slung over his back. "Are you going out?"

Daryl stopped and turned on his heels, making Amy stop abruptly and almost smacking into him. "Do you ever shut up?" He finally snapped.

"Geez, you don't have to be so pissy about it," Amy scrunched her face. She let out an exaggerated sigh as she stalked off to Andrea. Daryl noticed his short outburst caught Glenn's attention as he was staring at him.

"What? Got somethin' to say?" Daryl shot at him.

"No, nothing," Glenn shook his head. He seemed like a nervous wreck anytime someone spoke directly to him. Daryl noticed this especially when he or Merle said anything.

Daryl shut everyone else out and sat down on an old log by the main campsite's fire pit. He examined the crossbow, shifting it around in his hands and getting a good look at each individual bolt. It had been quite a few years since he'd used the thing.

There was talk about heading into Atlanta to seek out information if possible and to scavenge supplies. If the world had truly ended, they would have to loot as many places as possible for the necessities to live. And if someone could have passed that memo out to everyone sooner, they would have grabbed more things before fleeing their homes.

Of course Daryl had offered to go. He had nothing better to do and if he kept sitting around like he was, he'd surely go insane. He needed to get up on his feet and do something productive. He needed something to help keep his mind busy.

"Alright. So we got Glenn, T-Dog, Jacqui, Andrea, and Morales. You said you were up for going, Daryl?" Shane adjusted his belt as he propped his foot up on another log.

"Hey, whoa whoa. Let's hold on a minute," Merle came up from behind Daryl. "What exactly we talkin' 'bout?"

"We're going into the city to look for supplies," Andrea replied. "And help, if there is any."

"Well, count me in," Merle volunteered.

"Your brother already offered and I think it's best we keep some man power here at camp," Shane spoke up.

"Daryl? He can stay here. Won't kill him."

Shane shrugged and walked away to leave them all to it. It was obvious he wasn't going to stand by and try to sort things out. He'd just wait until everything fell into place on its own. The others who had volunteered took off and seemed to huddle in discussion.

"What the hell're you doin'?" Daryl got back on his feet and looked to Merle.

"I'm goin' to Atlanta. You can stay here and play nice with everyone. You was always more o' a people person anyways." Merle grinned, "Maybe ye can help with the laundry."

Daryl just completely ignored Merle and walked away from him. He could tell he was still high—he still had that look to him. And he was drawing the last straw with him. If Merle wanted to go so damn bad, then so be it. Daryl would just find something else to do. Maybe he could go out and hunt for a day or so. He could brush up on his skills and it'd keep his mind occupied.

But then Daryl overheard someone raising their voice. He noticed everyone seemed to ignore it and that only made him that much more curious. Then he saw it. Ed had a hold on Carol's arm, yanking her towards him and yelling in her face. He could tell the grip he had on her arm was tight from where he was standing and for whatever reason, he clenched his fists. It wasn't any of his business but if everyone else was just going to completely disregard this situation, he'd do something about it.

"Hey," Daryl approached the two, locking his glare on Ed. He grasped Ed's arm and pulled his grip off of Carol's arm as she backed up out of reach, tears streaming down her face. Daryl noticed Sophia had her head just barely peaking out of their tent watching from the distance with fear in her eyes. That alone was enough to set Daryl off.

"Who the hell are you? Thinkin' you can just come on over here and get in my business," Ed began, slightly giving Daryl a shove. "That's my wife. I'll do what I damn please."

"You won't be layin' a hand on her if you know what's good for ya," Daryl took a step forward to get in his face. "She's your wife, not a piece of property. You shouldn't be treatin' her like that and your daughter doesn't need this shit in her life."

"Daryl, it's okay… Just let it go." Carol's voice was soft, almost a whisper.

"No, it's not right," Daryl shot back at Carol. He turned back to Ed, "You got a problem with something, then be a man about it. I don't wanna see you layin' another hand on her or Sophia. Got it?"

Ed took a step forward now, completely closing in any gap that existed before and glared back at him. He took a drag of the lit cigarette in his hand and blew the smoke into Daryl's face with a grin. "I ain't gotta listen to your punk ass. Looks like you got enough problems of your own. Why don't ya take care of that and mind your own business?"

Daryl drew his fist back but before he could follow through with the punch, he felt a grip on his arm holding him back. He turned to see Shane had a hold of his right arm as he tried to shake him off. Being held back made him feel threatened and he was tempted to lash out and hit Shane with his left fist. He didn't realize he was following through with that until he felt someone else grab his other arm and prevented him from hitting Shane.

"You need to calm down, man. Everything's under control. No need to start throwing punches," Shane reaffirmed him, keeping his grip on his right arm.

"Just let it blow over," T-Dog's voice came from his other side. But Daryl was pissed. If there was something he hated, it was being held back or held down. He felt threatened when he didn't have control of his arms and it only made him that much angrier.

"Let me go!" Daryl tried to shake them, pulling his arms back as hard as he could. He struggled for a moment before Shane and T-Dog let go of him at the same time, making him stumble back. Daryl made sure to shoot them a look of hate before he stormed off back towards where his and Merle's tent was set up. He definitely needed to get away from these people, sooner rather than later.

The few who were planning on going into Atlanta were getting set up now, preparing to leave. Daryl almost had the urge to talk Merle out of going so that he could go but he knew it'd be a lost cause. It wouldn't even be worth trying.

Daryl walked a little ways into the woods with his crossbow in hand. He figured it nothing else he'd take a short walk. It didn't take long for the feel of the woods to come back to him. It was the one place he felt at home when he was younger. He practically lived outdoors back in the day.

It was only a couple minutes later until Daryl could hear heavy footsteps coming up behind him. He knew it was Merle before he even turned around to face him. And when he did turn to face him, he immediately knew it wasn't going to be good. Merle looked pissed.

"Merle—" Daryl lowered the crossbow to his side, watching his brother's every move as he even took a step back before Merle stopped just in front of him. Daryl could still see the camp from where he stood so he wasn't too far away.

Merle grabbed him by his shirt and pulled him closer, "What'd ye do with it?"

"Do with what?" Daryl leaned back, unsure of what to do. Normally, Merle didn't scare him. But there was something in his eyes this time that just screamed at him. He just froze up. He didn't even bother trying to shove his grip off of him.

"Ye know damn well what!" Merle raised his voice.

It clicked then. Merle was apparently so fucking trashed that he'd lost his drugs. Whatever he was even on anymore was beyond Daryl. He used to try and make him quit, used to take them from him. But nothing ever seemed to work and he gave up on that years ago as well.

"I didn't touch your damn drugs," Daryl replied, keeping his voice rather calm. But that wasn't good enough because Merle threw an uppercut to his face which caused him to stumble back and drop his crossbow. Here we go…

Daryl regained his posture just as Merle was already coming at him again. Daryl was able to grab Merle's fist with the next punch that he threw but Merle was already a step ahead of him, slamming his knee into his stomach. Daryl tried backing up as he let go of Merle's fist, watching him carefully. Merle threw a punch with his left fist, Daryl managing to just barely avoid it, then getting slammed by Merle's right fist. The second blow to the head screwed with his vision for a moment until everything cleared up.

It was evident that Merle wasn't going to back down until he was satisfied and Daryl knew the only chance he truly stood was if he could get away from him and keep his distance. But he really didn't even have that luck on his side because just as he threw a punch back in return, nailing Merle in the face, Merle just came back with a punch to his ribs. Daryl slightly doubled over as Merle grabbed him by his shirt and threw him to the ground, hard. He was lucky that he was just able to catch himself from face planting it.

Daryl scrambled to try and get back to his feet, knowing damn well Merle would beat the living shit out of him if he was cornered on the ground. But just as he was about to his feet, Merle kicked him straight in the side nailing him directly in the ribs. The force of the kick knocked the wind out of him as he was sent over onto his back. The pain shot through his side as he could see Merle's boot coming at him again. He managed to roll to the side and just barely avoided it. He landed on his back again before Merle was hovering him, grabbing him just under the chin and forcing him to look back at him.

"You mess with my stuff again an' see what happens, boy." Merle's voice was low as he spoke and he threw one last punch to his face before Daryl could hear his footsteps fade in the distance.

Daryl sighed in relief as he just stayed there on his back. He lifted his shirt just enough to examine his side and ran his fingers over the red outline from Merle's boot to check for anything broken. He couldn't feel anything out of place, but damn did it hurt. He knew his lip was split as he could feel it and the little bit of blood that accompanied it. He resorted to taking short shallow breaths for a moment before he forced himself back up on his feet slightly swaying.

He drug his feet back to where he dropped his crossbow and held his side as he bent down to pick it up, gritting his teeth from the shooting pain. He was glad it didn't end any worse. If Merle would have landed another kick or two with the same force behind it to his side, he knew that would have broken a few ribs with no problem. So yeah, he was lucky.

"Are you okay?—"

Daryl was thrown off by the sound of a female voice talking to him as he glanced over and spotted Carol not too far. Shit, how long had she been there? That's just great.

"I'm fine," Daryl muttered. It was all he could muster up at the time. He couldn't even sound threatening, which made him feel downright pathetic.

"I just wanted to come thank you… For talking to Ed," Carol paused. Her eyes were glued to Daryl, her gaze switching back and forth from his face to his hand holding his side. "Are you sure you don't want—"

"I'm fine," Daryl repeated, raising his voice. He took his hand back, wiped the blood from his lip, and stood up completely straight proving to her and himself that he was fine before he headed back towards camp. Carol must have finally gotten the message because she went back to camp as well, headed back for her tent.

By the time Daryl had walked back through the trees and reached his and Merle's spot, he felt even more relieved. Merle was gone. And when he glanced over at the others, he noticed the ones who had volunteered were gone as well. They must have left for Atlanta. Halle-fucking-lujah.

Daryl crawled into the tent with his crossbow still in his hands and hit the ground, exhausted. His body ached and his side constantly throbbed, feeling worse with each breath he took. He liked to just stick to taking as short and shallow of breaths as possible but he knew he couldn't keep doing that. He'd had rib injuries before and he was already well aware of the risk of getting pneumonia if he didn't take a deep breath every now and then to allow his lungs to fully expand.

Daryl couldn't help but cuss Merle out in his head. Words couldn't even begin to touch the anger he felt towards him in that moment. He left Elena to die; he didn't bother trying to get Leah. Merle was always a fucking loose cannon, especially with the drugs. Daryl had been the one to take care of him growing up. Anytime Merle was trashed, Daryl was there to help him out. Whenever Merle had come home from another fight, Daryl was there to help him out. And this was the thanks he got in return every fucking time. Merle was hardly ever there for him, so why did he feel the need to support him? As far as Daryl was concerned, Merle could just rot in Atlanta with the walkers. He'd most likely do something stupid anyway, possibly even get himself killed out of pure stupidity.

No, he didn't want Merle dead. He would never wish that. Merle was his brother after all. That's what it came down to in the end. He was family. Merle was all he had left. Merle would get better. Daryl had gotten him to that point before. He'd eventually run out of whatever he was on and after the crash, he would get better. That's all there is to it.

Daryl had parked his truck along the side street that faced the school. He was leaning against the passenger side door waiting until he could spot Leah among all the chaos of the kids getting out. It was a surprise, really. Far as Leah was concerned, her mom was picking her up. And Leah certainly was surprised.

"Daryl!" Her face lit up when she saw him across the street. She ran over and threw her arms around him in a hug. "What are you doing here?"

"Picking you up from school. What's it look like?" Daryl ruffled her hair. He opened the door and she hopped in closing the door behind her. Daryl passed in front of the truck and hopped in on the driver's side. He glanced over at Leah and noticed she was still grinning. "What?"

"Nothing." Leah put her seatbelt on and focused on the windshield. Daryl could tell she was fibbing but he didn't say anything. A grin had to be a good thing, so if that was the case, he wasn't too worried about it. He wouldn't pry. "Where's mom?"

"She had a meeting, had to stay after. She called to let me know so I could come get ya." Daryl explained as he turned the key in the ignition.

"Oh... Well, I'm glad she called you. I hate riding the bus. And being with you is 110 times better."

Daryl laughed, "You don't say?" He pulled the truck out onto the road and started to drive. It made him a little nervous with all of the kids running around. Some parents were obviously careless since they weren't paying any attention. Whose idea was it to put K through eighth grade in one school anyways? "Did you have a good day?"

"Mhmm," Leah nodded her head for emphasis. "I got a 100 on my spelling test."

"Really now?" Daryl glanced over at her then back to the road. "That's great. Before ya know it, you'll be teaching me how to spell."

Leah laughed, "Yeah, right. Because you don't already know how to spell everything." Daryl shrugged. "How was your day?"

"Can't complain. Got off work this morning at six. Got some sleep. Went over to Merle's to help him with his bike." Daryl paused. "Now I'm with you." He reached over and poked her arm, making her smile.

"You don't talk about him much," Leah stated.

"Who? Merle?" Daryl raised an eyebrow. "S'not much to talk about."

Leah didn't say anymore about the topic. Usually she was beyond curious and wanted to know everything there was, pestering him until he finally caved. Which she could always get him to cave. In all reality, she had him wrapped around her finger.

It was quiet for a couple minutes, the radio humming in the background. Leah stared out the window with her book bag down at her feet. And for a moment, Daryl thought about what it would be like to have his own kid.

"Mom said that you're like our angel."

Daryl slowed down for a red light and blinked a few times before looking over at Leah. "What?"

"She saw your vest. The one you're wearing right now. She said you're like our angel. With the wings and stuff." Leah explained.

Daryl wasn't sure what to say to that. Leah was good at throwing him off. He wasn't even sure what to think. He was far from an angel. He was fairly certain there was already a spot reserved in Hell for him. And then he found himself taking a walk down memory lane. It was the only thing he could think at the moment.

"It was a present from my Me-Maw. She had actually gotten Merle the same one, 'cept she made an adjustment on mine. She sewed the wings on herself. Told me I was an angel compared to Merle..." Daryl laughed now that he remembered. Compared to Merle, he was an angel. He never saw the walls of a prison, never touched any drugs in his life. He wasn't that big of a drinker. And he had only picked up smoking for a short while but dropped it soon after. He just figured he could use the money for other things that were of more concern. Maybe that was another reason he found himself chewing on his thumb and various things from time to time. He had more of an oral fixation than he realized from smoking.

"Then you must be an angel," Leah poked him back. "Mom said grandmas are never wrong."

Daryl reached over and ruffled her hair again receiving a giggle in response.

And end with a cute little flashback to lighten up the chapter. :)

Just as a fair warning, I'm dreading the next couple chapters or so. I already feel like they're going to really drag on and I don't want that. So please don't give up on this story yet for those of you who are reading! :/ If I could technically skip them, I would. Oops? Ha.